#i can’t stop hearing the kids voices in my head which is the whole reason i have the loops
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i lost my loop earbuds on monday and have been steadily losing my mind throughout the week and today my coteacher last-minute changed almost EVERY DETAIL of our plans and then unexpectedly had me drive back by myself using a route i’ve never driven before. i just got home, attempted to do the dishes, touched wet food, screamed and threw my phone, immediately felt childish and silly and ridiculous for reacting that way, and then rush ordered new loop earbuds. #autisticteacherthings
#i can’t stop hearing the kids voices in my head which is the whole reason i have the loops#i’m sitting in my closet trying not to cry bc nothing is wrong except the ✨sensory hell✨ that i can’t get out of#it feels so silly bc i’ll act normal All Day and feel fine but then the second i’m alone i have such sudden meltdowns#and the kids were K5 so they kept grabbing my hand or yelling or chanting and now i’m so overwhelmed
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when I say I love your mind (I wanna steal your heart)
huge thank you to @evansboyfriend and @beefcakekinard for alllll the help, you're the best <3
prompt: Halloween - couples costumes rated: G tags: fluff, established relationship word count: 1.8k
[also on ao3]
“So maybe vampires? Classic.” Buck suggests, hoping they’ll finally settle on something. But one look at Tommy’s face tells him it’s another no.
“I don’t know. It’s kinda basic.” His boyfriend says, and, okay, Buck can see that.
“Yeah, okay.” Buck hums, taking a second to come up with something else, as he and Tommy walk through the park, taking the long way to Tommy’s car. It’s a late evening, the moon illuminating their path, Tommy’s hand warm in his. They’re just finishing up date night, and at the end of their dinner the subject of Halloween was brought up – which is what they’ve been on for the last fifteen minutes. “So I guess ghosts or zombies or, I don’t know, clowns or pirates are also a no?”
“Uh, they might be a maybe?” Tommy shrugs, but clearly he’s not very into it.
“What about superheroes? Ooh, you could be Superman. You kinda look like him anyway.” He says, bringing their clasped hands to kiss Tommy’s knuckles. “My own personal hero.” He whispers, and Tommy laughs. Buck’s sure if it wasn’t dark, he’d see a faint blush in his cheeks.
“And what would that make you, Wonder Woman?” There’s a skeptical but amused tone in his voice.
“Maybe.” He shrugs and Tommy doesn’t even need to say anything for Buck to know he’s not a fan. “Okay, so Batman and Robin.”
“Hm, that’s one to think about.” Tommy responds. Buck takes that as a win, but they could do something more fun.
“Luke and Leia.” He says just because maybe Star Wars will be something to agree on – though, on the other hand, that might just spiral into another disagreement they’ve had before about those movies in general, so maybe better to leave it alone. Buck loves Tommy so much, but his Star Wars opinions are… not good. He can look past that, though. No one can be perfect.
“They’re siblings. We’re not doing a sibling couples’ costume, Evan.” He says decisively, shaking his head. Bossy, for someone who can’t decide on a costume. Buck rolls his eyes, kinda fond but kinda annoyed.
“So Leia and Han Solo. Oh, or Han and Luke? To put a bit of a spin on it?”
“Uh-” Tommy makes a face – to his credit, he does try to hide it – and Buck sighs in frustration. He doesn’t even want to hear the reason for the no. He pauses, trying to think of something else, the silence always pleasant between them. Whether they talk for hours, or are silent together, in Tommy’s company every second is the most comfortable and enjoyable. Buck just feels like he can be fully himself, and lean into his silliest side.
“We could be Venom and Eddie Brock.” He says, mostly joking, the image that popped into his head so ridiculous he laughs.
“Hm. And how would that work, exactly? One of us in regular clothes and the other in costume as Venom?”
“Yeah. You as Eddie, and I dressed in all black, on your back.” He gives Tommy a shit-eating grin when he glances at him disbelievingly. “You know, like when Venom pops out of Eddie’s back?”
“And, what, I’d carry you on my back the whole night?” He laughs, but Buck just nods. “Sweetheart, I’m strong, but I’m not that strong. Best I could do is a few minutes.” He sounds almost apologetic, and Buck needs to kiss him about it, so he presses a quick kiss to his lips, stopping them briefly.
“I know, I’m kidding.” He whispers, resuming walking. “Would be cool, though.”
“It would.” Tommy admits. Silence falls over them again, as the gears in Buck’s brain keep turning, going through every movie he can remember ever seeing, or any fun and cool couples they could realistically dress up as.
“Beauty and the Beast? I could do a yellow suit. And you can be my Beast.” Buck leans closer to Tommy, his chin brushing Tommy’s shoulder as they walk, almost at the car now. He whispers, “You already are.”
“That’s a leap from Venom.” A laugh escapes Tommy. “I don’t know. It’d be cute, but I thought you wanted scary.”
“True. We could make it scary.” He says, but then another idea pops into his head. “Oh, how about the Addams family? You know, to keep the spooky vibe.” Buck bumps his shoulder into Tommy’s.
“Well, I do love the Addams family.” Tommy nods. “Who exactly, though?”
“The best couple ever, of course. Morticia and Gomez.” He says, and watches Tommy’s face for his reaction. “And you hate it.” He sighs, and rolls his eyes, starting to get a tiny bit annoyed. It’s like the fiftieth costume he suggested, Tommy has to like something.
“No, I love it, really, but, you know, if we’re doing a couple, maybe it could be a gay couple instead?” Tommy suggests, pulling Buck a little closer to him. Well, that was the idea at first, before Buck spiraled where he is now, because someone kept shutting down his ideas. At least now he gets why some of those were a no from Tommy, because Buck thinks some were really fun.
“Yeah, sure. If we could agree on any.” He shoots Tommy a pointed look.
“Okay, any other ideas?” Tommy asks, a hint of fond amusement on his face. It’s not funny, though, they need to figure it out quickly, Halloween is right around the corner.
“Salt and pepper shakers.” He throws out. “Or ketchup and mustard.”
“Are you serious?” Tommy raises his eyebrow, giving him his signature ‘Evan’ look, version exasperated. Buck just shrugs, trying to hide a smile, the thought of his boyfriend having specific smiles and looks reserved for him making his heart swell.
“I’m running out of ideas, Tommy. Oh!” He exclaims, a new random idea popping into his head. “Tom and Jerry! Get it?” He grins, looks at his boyfriend expectantly, and sees a tired but very fond and amused smile. “Tom-my.” He drags out the first syllable, just to get his point across.
“Yeah, baby, I get it. You’re adorable, but no.” He says, and then chuckles when Buck pouts.
“How about the emotions from Inside Out?” He grumbles, the movie popping into his head randomly – probably because he and Tommy watched it with Jee on their latest babysitting duty. They did a whole Pixar marathon. “You can be boredom.”
“Oh, really?” Tommy gives him one of his looks, and, damn, Buck almost melts under his gaze, even when he’s annoyed with him. He loves him so fucking much. “You calling me boring?” He tugs at Buck’s hand, stopping them and bringing him closer, so they’re face to face, his hands settling on Buck’s hips, Buck’s landing on his huge arms, now covered by a jacket. There’s an amused smirk on Tommy’s face. “I thought I was cool?”
“Nah, you’re not. You hide it well, but I know now that you’re just a huge dork. And very, very boring.” Buck teases, trying and failing to say it with a straight face, a smile breaking through. “And I love you anyway.”
“I love you, too, Evan.” Tommy says, his smile forming into that fond, loving ‘Evan’ smile that Buck can never resist kissing off. So he does. He kisses Tommy once, twice, the kisses soft and chaste, both smiling into each other’s lips. He’s about to go in for a third, intending on deepening it, but Tommy pulls away, face a bit more serious. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Buck frowns, not wanting or needing any apologies, genuinely wondering if he missed anything.
“For being such a pain about this whole costume thing.” Tommy explains, and Buck wants to laugh. Yeah, okay, he was a little annoyed, but it’s just a little teasing, bickering, about Halloween costumes of all things. He can take the most ridiculous things seriously, but this? Nothing to get overly upset about. He’s about to say all that, but then Tommy continues, “I don’t know, maybe Halloween is just not my thing. I’ve never really been too into it.” He shrugs, a flicker of something wistful crossing his face, but it’s gone too quickly to decipher. “But it matters to you, and I love you, and I want you to be happy. So, I’m done being a party pooper, let’s do a costume. Next idea, no complaints, I promise. Whatever you want.” He says so sincerely, but there’s a hint of a ‘I hope I’m not gonna regret this’ in his eyes. Buck grins, a random, brand new idea showing up.
“Woody and Buzz? From Toy Story.” he clarifies, as if that wasn’t obvious – and clearly it was, from the look he gets. “What? You said gay couple.”
“I don’t think they were. And I thought you wanted scary- but fine, okay.” Tommy sighs, that fond look back on his face. “I said whatever you want. You wanna be the cowboy or the astronaut?”
“Hm.” Buck takes a second to think – and realizes that, actually, there’s an even better, easier idea. “Or we could just be cowboys.” He shrugs, and then he can feel his eyes go wide as the full picture pops into place.
“Zombie cowboys.” He says, at the same time as Tommy, though Tommy’s sounds more like a question.
“You know me so well.” Buck beams, leaning in for another kiss. “Let’s be scary cowboy zombies. See, was that so hard?”
“You’re the one with a thousand ideas for a second. I didn’t even say no to everything at first, you just went through so many it was hard to keep up. I’m pretty sure you said cowboy back at the restaurant, too, and I didn’t even get a chance to say anything.” Tommy points out, pulling away from Buck, grabbing his hand again and starting to walk, his truck already visible in the distance.
“Not my fault my brain works like that.” Buck says mock-defensively.
“I know, honey, I love your wonderful brain.” Tommy smiles, lets go of Buck’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist, presses a quick kiss to his cheek. “And I love you, my silly zombie cowboy.”
“Halloween is gonna be so much fun.” Buck is smiling widely, excited like a kid for his first Christmas – or, his first Halloween, more like. It’s seemingly no big deal, but also it’s his first Halloween with Tommy, and he’s excited – he’s excited for all the firsts with Tommy. He can’t wait to do everything and anything with him. “Are you gonna come by the station?”
“Of course, if I can. Gotta see how scary you’re gonna make it.”
“Wanna bet I can scare you?” He asks, just as they near the car.
“In the haunted house for children?” Tommy raises his eyebrows. “Sure, you can try. What are we betting on?”
“I have a few ideas.” Buck grins wickedly, crowding Tommy against the car.
“Oh, really? Well, I’m all ears.” Tommy grins, his arms wrapping around Buck’s neck, pulling him closer. Buck smiles into Tommy’s lips, kissing him, quick but lingering.
“Well, why don’t we go home and I can show you what I have in mind?”
[read on ao3]
#bucktommywinterfest#wikiangela writes#bucktommy#bucktommy ficlet#bucktommy fic#halloween fic#911 fic#my writing#evan buckley#bucktommy fanfic#tommy kinard#911 fanfic#evan x tommy#buck x tommy#tevan#kinley#read on ao3#dailykinley#fluff#bucktommy fluff
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₊˚⊹ᰔ Deal (Mathew Lillard!William Afton x fem!reader)
tags: public sex, m receiving, praise, riding, unprotected sex, threatening??
my notes: not really sure about this one, I might delete it later, idk yet :,) also eng isn’t my first language
“Hello? Mr. "I can't work nights?” Steve's hoarse voice asks, a beaming smile on his face as he talks to his potential victim.
It's always that fucking phone with wires. He'll never get off it. Most, if not all, questions are resolved through this damn phone.
Every time you enter this office, you see Raglan chatting sweetly on the phone, talking about jobs, vacancies, answering customer questions. And then his dark eyes rest on you, briefly studying your face before settling on your body. It's unpleasant feeling, as if you're exposed in front of him like meat on a plate when he already has a fork and a knife in his hands. There Steve lets out a laugh, takes the phone away from his ear and whispers softly to you: "you know what to do, honey." Embarrassment merges with arousal, which you can’t calm down in any way.
It always happens, it has already become a little tradition that at first you hated and denied. You were sick of yourself. But what happened? What made you like it? You started asking for more, you started coming to this damn office yourself, staring at the floor, obediently waiting for the cherished words.
"Yes, it absolutely is. Why? Have you had a change of heart?" Raglan asks with undisguised interest, clarifying Mike's intentions. He didn't even expect him to call back. This is just pure luck, Mike himself fell into his hands, so it's even better.
Every day, the same office, the same time, the same desk, the same Steve Raglan.
You're praying that sloppy sounds of you taking Steve's cock in your mouth don't reach Mike on the other end of the line, you're already ashamed enough. You try to be careful not to get his pants and floor dirty, but Steve doesn't care. His hand rests on your hair, stroking you like a little pet, an obedient pet.
Of course, you'll be obedient. You have made a deal after all.
"Let me give you a little backstory." he lowers his gaze to take a good look at you and spreads his legs wider. His cock penetrates deeper, he presses on your head, which causes an unpleasant feeling of tickling in your throat. You look at him, fluttering your eyelashes quickly as a sign that you're short of air. Fingers dig into his pants, crumpling the fabric. Steve raises his eyebrows, faking surprise, oh, what a pity. He's too rude, and you're too gentle, how cute. "Breathe through your nose or you forgotten you have one?" Steve lowered his voice.
"Can you repeat it again? I didn't hear you." Schmidt clarifies on the phone. You stop moving your head, afraid that Mike will hear something.
Steve sighs and adjusts his glasses, looking away from you. He starts explaining something again and you almost calm down, but he jerks his hips, allowing his dick to fully penetrate your throat, which makes you moan softly.
"This place was huge in the 80s with the kids." he smirks. Fortunately, Mike cannot see the face of his career counselor right now, because it’s definitely distorted by sarcasm and mockery. "This place been shut down for years. The only reason they haven’t given it the old wrecking ball treatment is the owners a bit of a… well, he’s kind of a sentimental guy, I guess. Just can’t bring himself to let it go yet." he chuckles. "Yeah…"
Steve's cock throbs in your mouth as you try to inhale through your nose. It's too much, you're slowly suffocating as now the whole situation is controlled by Raglan's hand, which is holding you by the hair. It hurts so bad, but then why you feel the warmth between your legs?
"Had some trouble with break-ins over the years. Drunks and vagrants, mostly. Not ideal…" it's surprising the way he do it, so calmly talking to someone on the phone while roughly fucking your throat. Although at times his tone is interrupted by quiet sighs. "Security systems dated, but fully functional. Floodlights on the outside, cameras inside and outside. Fair warning: the electricity is a bit… iffy." he’s all shining with joy while telling Mike about the pizzeria.
When you pull on his pants, tears come to your eyes and your throat hurts unbearably, Steve removes his hand from your hair. You release his shaft from your mouth with a popping sound that sounds very loud in such silence. Raglan smiles, looking at you contentedly, your chin is covered with saliva, cum on your lips, youre so beautiful, sweet. You’re lucky he's in a good mood today.
"Anything happens, there is a breaker in the main office, just flip it." he continues, but now looking at you, which makes it feel like he’s having a conversation with you. You exhale, wrapping your hand around his cock, moving up and down, he slowly pumps into your fist. His hand caresses your cheek, finger runs over your lips, smearing his cum, and it makes you smile a little. There's nothing to smile about, though. But you can't hold back the slight feeling of euphoria from such a gentle Steve, feeling yourself… Special? His touch is tender and his gaze has softened, he smiles while you continue to work with your hand. "Uhm, I guess that’s about it. You know, the rest is pretty easy. Just keep your eyes on the monitors and keep people out. Piece of cake." you lean closer, tucking your hair behind ear and running your tongue over his leaking tip. "Fuck, baby." he exhales, slightly squeezing the receiver of the old phone.
"Mr. Raglan?" Mike's puzzled voice. Your heart skipped a beat, like Schmidt's, but not Steve’s. Mike frowned, holding the phone closer to his ear. Did he hear correctly or….? From the very beginning of the conversation, he suspected something was wrong. Yeah, Steve's really weird.
Your innocent lick on his cock brought man to an instant orgasm. He was already on the verge from face fucking you, but the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive tip brought him to the limit. Putting the phone away a little further, he covered his cock with his hand until the spurts of cum laid on your face. He let out a barely heard groan, his glasses fogged up.
"I said it’s a piece of cake." Steve repeats, clearly not interested in continuing dialogue with Mike. "So, I'll catch you on the flip side… hopefully." not waiting for an answer, he hangs up.
What a good day, what an easy prey, how fortunate.
He’s in such a wonderful mood, light idea of rewarding you appears in his head. Why not?
"Come here, baby," he points to his knees with his finger, and you get up like a zombie, immediately pressing your legs together because of the uncomfortable feeling of soaked panties. Of course you're wet, this isn't the first time you are. But this will be the first time your problem will be taken care of. "you've been such a good girl, why don't I return the favor?"
Steve spreads your legs and sits you on his knee, hands holding you in place when you try move. It's not that you don't like it, you're actually losing your mind, but you feel too awkward knowing that you're in a public place. And the fact that he can feel your throbbing pussy against his knee doesn’t make situation better.
"What would you like, honey? My tongue or fingers?" he looks up at you, moving you so that your wet underwear rubs against the fabric of his pants. Your clit is stimulated, but in the most painful and torturous way, causing shallow sighs. You put both hands on his shoulders and squeeze his shirt as you throw head back.
"Please…" you're almost crying. "please, your… oh…" one more move and you'll cum. "cock, your cock, Steve, please!"
"Hush," he squeezes your thigh. "you know our little rule, don't you? Or should i remind you?"
"William," you're correcting your mistake. "William." He grunts with satisfaction.
"That's it." Afton's hands wander over your body, caressing you in right places. "Tell me honestly, you’re going to scream?" at first you don't even understand what he's asking.
He kisses your neck, continuing to slowly bounce you up and down on his knee. Thanks to you, a dark wet spot already appeared on his pants. His beard tickles your skin and his tongue leaves a wet trail on it.
"Yeah," you come to your senses, finally understanding what he meant.
William breaks into a smile. Of course, you'll scream, not just scream, but break your voice and cry, he knows that. His cock is hardening again. Afton loosens his tie, leaving it hanging around his neck. He'll definitely find a good use for it, already did. He makes you get off his lap and you look down, blushing. God, you couldn't be that wet?.. It's humiliating, so embarrassing.
William pulls your panties down to your ankles, and you step over them, remaining only in a skirt and shirt. You don't know what to do. This is the first time something as it happens, you've never gone far than just a blowjob. He pulls off your skirt as well, causing it to fall along with your underwear. He pushes the clothes aside with his foot, then sits you on top of him again. William’s eyes don’t leave yours, his hand reaches down, you feel a finger at your wet entrance.
Your lips part to let out a loud moan and William steals it with a kiss. You can't make any noise. He pushes his hips up, pressing the head of his cock against your pussy. He mumbles something into your mouth, holds you tightly in one position, you’re unable to move. His tongue roughly explores your mouth. William feels your breath on him and smiles. Then his hands grope your butt and he pushes you down, slowly lowering you onto his cock.
He moans in unison with you, but quietly, working hours aren’t over yet. However, you can't hold back the loud whimpering, feeling full. It doesn't seem very pleasant at first. Afton closes his eyes, thrusting fully.
"Be quiet." another warning. "You're taking my cock so well," he praises. "don't try to pull away," his hands go up to your back. "you have no right to do that, you know that." a careful but extremely unnecessary reminder. At least, definitely not at the moment when you're having sex with him, you don't want to think about a deal. About consequences if you’ll break it.
Every touch gives you a pleasant tingling sensation and you start to enjoy it more with every second. You move on top of him, trying to find the right angle, pressing your chest against his. You don't want to look at his face, into his eyes, because even through the glasses you can see that he's devouring you with his eyes. It's embarrassing. But it gets worse when he runs his tongue over your nipple through your shirt, leaving a wet spot on your clothes. William lightly bites the sensitive skin, while squeezing your other nipple with his fingers, a hiss leaves your lips. It hurts, but it turns you on even more. His chest heaves, he tries to restrain himself from jerking his hips up and ruin your cunt the way you deserve. Your warm walls squeeze his cock too tightly as you tremble from too much attention to your nipples.
"Now move up and down," William points out. "and don't forget about hips."
He knows you've never tried this pose. Of course, he knows everything about you. He likes to be closer to his prey.
Your fingers on his shoulders tighten, you begin to move according to his words. You don't forget about your hips, as he demanded. And then something pleasant begins to spread through the body. An enveloping feeling that radiates to every nerve. His cock feels much different than it did a few minutes ago. Everything inside is burning and throbbing, your body needs more. You want to move faster, you can barely contain your moans. William puts his shoulder up, which is what you're using to shut yourself. You mumble, unable to make a sound, whine, but you continue to bounce on him.
"Good girl," his words break you. "such a tight pussy." your teeth are digging into him painfully, soaking the man's shirt with saliva.
Afton starts moving with you, now holding you tightly. It's like you're nothing more than a rag doll in his hands. Your body becomes so weak and sluggish, eyes roll back in bliss. His cock goes in and out of your pussy with an incredibly perverted sound that echoes throughout the office. Drops of sweat run down his forehead and down your back, but it feels like lava that burns to the bone.
"I-… I feel so good…" your speaking so slurred, because it's hard to talk with his clothes in your mouth, but you're so pleased that you can't control yourself. "William!"
You can't help but moan in surprise when he gets up from his chair, holding your ass, his cock still inside. It even hurts. William lays you on his desk, takes off his glasses and puts them next to a sign with his fake name on it. You dare to look at his face. He's just as horny as you are. Without glasses, he looks a little different, grey strands stuck to his sweaty forehead, hair slightly messy.
William puts his tie in your mouth, you almost choke. Afton leans down, brushes his lips against your collarbone, so sensually. In response, you wiggle your hips, trying to get him to move. William is grinning at you, at your pleading eyes. He begins to hammer in your pussy. You cry out as loud as you can, but fortunately, the tie shuts you up, leaving only indistinct "please." His hands squeeze your ass until it bruise as he thrusts into you.
William stretches you out just fine, thrusting into your cunt fast, which makes it seem like desk under you is about to break. You're afraid of accidentally hitting his glasses, you don't want unnecessary sounds. William is so damn tensed up, you realize that in all this time he has never broken eye contact with you. His cock reaches deeper when you just thought it was impossible and tears flow from your eyes. William smears two fingers with his saliva and lays them to your clit, your pussy clench around him. His fingers move sweetly and slowly, pressing on your bundle of nerves that it drives you crazy. Your legs are wobbly, blood is boiling.
"Do you want me to cum inside you, baby?" the question isnt scary at all, because your brain doesn't work. Your red, tear-stained face responds him. You just nod frantically, trying to say yes, but tie doesn't let. William smiles, runs the pad of his thumb over your clit. "Your cunt clenching around me like that, begging me to fill you up. Damn perfect."
He leans closer to your face. Poor thing, he wants to end your sweet torments, to give you what you crave. Clenching your tie between your teeth, you arch and cry, unconsciously moving your pelvis towards him. William's legs bend slightly as his thrusts become more chaotic. He keeps fucking into you, groaning softly. William wants to say so much dirty things to you, but he can't. He can't be loud, he can't be heard, no need to ruin his reputation. Let others continue to think that he's a good father, an amazing career counselor, an ideal person who helps others. And you… and you're just his little assistant, who brings coffee to his office. Let everyone think so.
Warm liquid filling you, and at first you don't even realize what it is as you cum. His fingers caress your clit with gentle circle movements while you try to bring your legs together, but eventually wrap them around him, only driving him deeper into yourself. William is unable to hold back heavy sighs, still continuing to thrust, until he sees that his cum is already flowing out of you down to the floor. Your tired eyes and his tie in your mouth, all covered with your saliva, cause him an evil smile. This day couldn't be better, today everything is going too well.
"You did so well, Y/n," he breathes with relief, running his fingers over your face and taking the tie out of your mouth. "you extended your little sister's life by one more day. By the way, tell her hi from mr. Raglan."
#fnaf william afton#fnaf x reader#william afton smut#steve raglan x reader#william afton x reader#dilf william#fnaf smut#william afton#fnaf x y/n
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In Your Fantasy
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x (F) Reader
Word Count: ~5300
Warnings: semi-public sex (like...very low-key), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PIV sex. 18+ only ~
This took me forever to finish because I started it before my stupid tonsillectomy and I was totally useless throughout most of the recovery. Also, it's been absolutely ages since I wrote a Jake x Reader fic so I'm not sure how I feel about it...I really enjoyed writing this regardless of my trepidation though. I loved the idea of falling in love with him at work and him being so cheeky...hope you enjoy it too <3
P.S. also ages ago, I wrote a Josh x Reader fic that also took place in a library which you can read here. Links on my desktop masterlist aren't active for some reason...but I found it using a certain tag lmao. If you know, you know.
---
You were finishing up fixing the order of some art books in the back of the library when you felt Jake come up behind you. “Wanna hear something kind of crazy?” he whispered in your ear, his chin nearly on your shoulder, his hair brushing against yours. Without even seeing him, the closeness and warmth of his body and the low, husky whisper sent a tingle up your spine–he certainly added a level of intrigue to working in a library.
“Always,” you said, slipping the last book into the correct spot. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon–you’d thought it’d actually be busier given the rain that kept bucketing down outside, creating an even cozier atmosphere, but maybe people just wanted to stay home with their books instead. That was fine by you. You liked it when it was nearly dead silent throughout the building and Jake was there to occasionally break through, his voice a river through your thoughts and his subtle touches all shockwaves to your heart.
When you turned around to face him, Jake looked like he was holding back a hilarious joke or something, eyes all eager and a grin tight on his lips like he was bursting at the seams. “So I just went to the bathroom and guess what I heard?” he went on, raising his eyebrows.
You scrunched up your nose, already worried. This wasn’t what you were expecting when he’d said ‘something crazy.’ What sort of craziness happened in libraries anyway? “There are a lot of things I can think of. Is this a gross story?”
Jake chuckled. “It depends on your definition of ‘gross.’ Okay,” he said, looking around to make sure you two were still alone in the section. Then he looked into your eyes again and lowered his voice even more to tell you, “There were people fucking in there.”
You scoffed, offended on behalf of the library–the sacred, beautiful space where people went to relax and read, not deal with lewd conduct. That wasn’t crazy, that was just offensive! “What, like two guys?” you questioned, tilting your head, a little irked at Jake finding this all so funny.
“No, a guy and a girl.”
“Ugh. That’s even worse. Women shouldn’t have to deal with getting laid in a men’s bathroom,” you said, then were momentarily distracting yourself with yet another out of place book on the shelf. “I’d never do that. I can’t believe someone else is. I mean, kids go here.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Jake said slowly. He leaned against the bookshelf and looked at you pointedly, his dark eyes even darker in the dim light. “Then again–”
Before he could finish, you had another thought. “Wait, Jake–did you say anything to them?”
“No. What could I say? I just high-tailed it out of there as soon as I heard.”
You sighed. The whole thing would be far more redeemable if your boyfriend had at least tried to throw out some warning words to the perpetrators. “You should have told them to stop. I would have.”
“I’m sure they finished soon after I left.” He smirked. “It sounded like they were pretty close.”
You groaned quietly and turned away, preferring to find another thing to busy yourself with now. “Gross. They should be banned.”
Jake followed along right at your side as you whisked through the rest of the art section and back to the cart you needed to empty. “I didn’t see who they were, so no chance of that.” At the cart, he put his hands on it, keeping it in place. “I actually thought you’d find it sort of amusing, Y/N.”
You leaned over, almost close enough to touch your noses together. “You’re such a guy. Only a guy would think it’s amusing and not disgusting.”
“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re just a little stuffy,” Jake replied, tilting his head up as if he were challenging you. “Although maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, considering we’ve never done anything like that.”
You scoffed again and leaned back, surprised and still a little irritated, but also genuinely curious. “Oh, so you want to fuck around in a public place? That’s something I didn’t know about you.”
Jake’s challenging stance turned crestfallen, and he lifted one of your hands to press a kiss to. “Forget I said anything about it. I mean, I suppose you’re right–it is kind of gross.” He kept your hand clasped in his for a few seconds as he said, “But I’d never make love to you in a public bathroom. I’d hope you know me better than that.”
You looked over your shoulder at the sound of a man clearing his throat, settling down into a chair with a newspaper. He wasn’t paying any attention to you or Jake, but you gave the cart a push anyway, cajoling Jake off it so you could navigate to where you needed to go next.
“It’s really the fact that it’s the bathroom that makes it so gross,” you whispered as Jake kept following you. You couldn’t deny you’d had some secret fantasies about getting it on in the library–after all, it was where you and Jake had met and where you continued to spend the most time together. But none of your fantasies included the restrooms in the hall, or the utility closet or that little corridor tucked away across from the restrooms where the vending machines were. Too grody, too cramped, too obvious.
“At least our bathrooms are clean.” Jake parked himself right next to you once you were in the biography section, and when you stepped away from the cart, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place. “But if I’m being really honest, I have thought about us, well, fooling around here. I think it’s quite surprising we never have.”
“Jake,” you said in an attempt to protest, but his sweet, pretty face and ticklish touch on your waist made you giggle, and his confession that echoed your own secret thoughts lit a little spark. “We work here!”
“So? All the more reason. It’s always been our special place.” Jake smiled as he got even closer to kiss you; you kissed him back, looping your arms over his shoulders. He was smiling even bigger when you both broke away and he said, “You know, it’s just me closing tonight. You should stay after with me.”
“God, and do what?” you replied, but, despite yourself, you were growing more intrigued.
“Well, don’t you think the study rooms here are nice and cozy?” Jake questioned, still latching himself to your side as you started to put more books away. “There aren’t any cameras in any of them either. No one would know.”
You looked up at him from your crouched position, sliding a book into place. “Someone would know. Someone would find out somehow.” You were quickly finding even more perfectly good reasons in your mind not to do this, to not even really toy with the idea, but the more you thought about it, the more you thought, why not? Could the risk make it more fun? Even just the new, ill-fitting, sort of scandalous environment?
Besides, Jake really did look hot today. He looked hot every day, but the second you’d seen him after he’d come into work earlier, he’d lit a fire in your belly that was more intense than usual. His hair had the perfect level of slight messiness and the relaxed black button-down shirt was perhaps one or two buttons shy of being overtly inappropriate for work; the smooth tan skin of his chest exposed and acting as a lovely backdrop to the long silver chain dangling, the pendant hitting his sternum. You could imagine tugging on that chain, grasping the pendant in your palm, to pull him closer while he pressed you against one of those thick wooden tables. You’d run your fingers through his hair and kiss him in the frozen silence, and maybe no one would ever know after all.
“I can practically hear the wheels turning,” Jake remarked, tapping your forehead once you were standing again. “You know you want to.”
You let out an inadvertent nervous giggle and rolled your eyes. “Yes, I’m thinking about it.”
Jake stepped closer, pressing you back against the cart of books. “I’d love to hear some of those thoughts,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.
“You’re lucky it’s dead here today,” you said, keeping your voice a whisper despite the, indeed, dead library around you. You rested your arms over his shoulders, twisting a strand of his hair between your fingers; Jake just kept looking at you with that sweet, silently begging gaze until you giggled, relenting. “Okay. I was, um…thinking about you pushing me down on one of those big tables.”
Jake’s eyebrows rose. “What else?”
“Well…” you began, looking down at his dark jeans rubbing against your skirt. “You’re giving me some more ideas now.” You lifted one foot off the floor to rub your calf over his, the delicate material of your tights creating subtle but scintillating friction against his denim.
Jake ran the tip of his nose up your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Same here.”
Just as you were closing your eyes and allowing yourself to let your environment fall away around you, to forget about all the risk of being caught right there, and just as Jake’s hand was sliding down between your legs, a person’s incredibly soft–thanks to the clever carpeting job–footsteps headed your way yanked you right out of the moment.
Jake, too. He shot back and cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and looked in the direction of the footsteps; you did too, and soon enough an older woman with her nose already in an open book trotted past the shelves.
“See?” you whispered, gesturing at the passer-by who was already out of view. “It’s so easy to get caught.”
“Please, that lady didn’t notice a thing. Alright,” Jake said before he stole one last hurried kiss. “I should let you keep doing your job and I should carry on with mine. But will you stay after with me tonight?”
You pursed your lips as you looked at him, considering, but it wasn’t long before you said, “Alright, Jake. I’ll stay after and we can play out your little fantasy.”
“It’s your fantasy too, baby doll,” Jake said with a wink before he half-turned, beginning to step away. “I think we’ve established that.”
-
There wasn’t a whole lot to keep your mind occupied as the afternoon carried on. The rain kept coming down, hammering hard against the roof and windows, and the sky outside was pure gray, all flat and blank. It reminded you of your first day working here, as a matter of fact–that morning in the previous late October, when autumn’s chill was officially in the air. A fine layer of frost had even been on the ground that morning; your shoes had crunched over it on the short walk to your car and you’d had to use your defroster once you turned the key, your anxiety peaking as you had to wait even longer to start the new job.
How could such a quiet, peaceful place encite so much anxiety anyway? You remembered wondering that very question as you walked over the sidewalk to the library entrance for the first time since being hired, the concrete slick with that morning frost and the beginnings of a gentle rainfall. And just when you’d been settling in and getting comfortable, Jake had showed up and introduced himself, all casual and easy like he didn’t know he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.
Thankfully, Jake was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. It didn’t take long before his beauty and charm stopped intimidating you and instead just made you feel all light and full of joy–you were simply happy to chat with him whenever you both could spare a few minutes. Those few minutes steadily turned into shared breaks; then, shared lunches where you’d sit out back on the one picnic table when the weather permitted. Then he started bringing you special treats sometimes, things he knew you liked because he actually listened about what you liked, and then after that he started bringing you whole lunches packed with love and care that you’d never experienced before.
So, after all that, was it really such a big deal to make love inside the place in which you fell in love?
None of your other coworkers even seemed to notice that you were staying later than planned this evening. But, just to be safe, you also made a point to hide out in the kid’s section when closing time crept up, busying yourself with cleaning up stray crayons and markers and then browsing through some of the newer picture book additions when you were done with that.
When you were sliding one picture book back onto the shelf and reaching for another, you noticed the part of the library beyond the kid’s section dim; you stood up and walked out into the main area, and there Jake was behind the checkout counters flipping switches.
“Despite almost always being the one to close,” he said, flipping another switch. “I still sometimes forget which lights actually get turned off and which ones stay on.”
A path of yellow light led the way past the checkout and reception, past the few rows of public use desktop computers. Jake held your hand as you both stepped through the library, your heartbeat speeding up a bit with nervous yet delightful anticipation; a few more steps and you were further into the very back of the library, just about there. Four study rooms were staggered just beyond the teen reading section, two on the left and two on the right with a wall of windows in between.
Jake opened the door to the last study room on the right. A large window was in there too, soaking in the deep sunset that was resting beyond the grass outside and the trees, and the mostly-bare branches of all the trees were throwing shadows across the library grounds. Then Jake flipped the light on, making it all disappear.
“Oh no,” you said, reaching behind him to flip it off again. “It’s sort of magical with the light off. Look at that sunset.”
Jake followed your gaze out the window to the wash of deep blue painted across the sky, nighttime so early in autumn that only a slight sliver of golden-orange remained just on the horizon. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and had left a lingering mist on the ground, its faint haze trailing along just outside the windows–the whole scene was so much more peaceful than what was going on inside your head. You couldn’t shake the possibility of getting caught even though Jake was right about there being no cameras back here, and there was no one else around, not even any of the custodial staff, and not a soul out there in the fog. Just you and Jake in the little dark study room, his hand still warm around your own.
Your thoughts started to drift away, making space for your mind to comprehend the shadowed image of Jake before you as he gently turned you to face him. He smiled with the slightest bit of white teeth gleaming between his full lips, and you instinctively smiled back, pulled under his charm again. So, now effortlessly charmed and put at ease, you wrapped him in your arms and pulled him close, caressing his shoulder blade with one hand and the slight curve of his waist with the other as both of your smiles disappeared into a kiss.
“You were making me crazy all day,” he remarked between the kisses that accelerated with both of your lips parted and the wet meeting of tongues.
“Really? You kept it well-hidden.” Of course Jake did–you never doubted his affection and passion for you, but he kept everything so private. It was one of the many things you liked about him. You cupped the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails just the way he liked it, and kissed him again.
“God, your ass in this skirt,” Jake said, voice a little rough, and he reached down to grab you there. “The way your hips move.” He licked his bottom lip as he took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face. “So unbelievably pretty.”
You held the side of his face. “You are too, Jakey.” He really was, and even in the dark–perhaps especially in the dark, actually. The shadows enveloped him in even more mystery than normal, but you could still so plainly see the angles of his face and the smoothness of his skin in the faint, distant glow of the lingering sunset. Jake smiled at the sound of that little nickname coming from you, then disappeared as he pressed his lips to yours again and pushed you back against the table just like in your little fantasy.
You felt the warmth of his hand travel around your hip then slide down over your skirt; you kissed him harder and spread your legs a little wider when his fingers skated effortlessly up your thigh over your tights. Jake purred against your mouth as he traced the seam of those tights, and subsequently the crotch of your panties beneath, with one fingertip, and your own hands hurried down his body with much less grace to squeeze his ass and feel the hardness between his legs as reciprocity.
Before you could do much more than that, he was pushing your skirt up all the way with one hand and continuing to use the other to tease you. Your breath caught in your throat as you were finding yourself trying to stay silent despite the library being completely empty; Jake carried on with longer, deeper touches over the crotch of your panties and tights. The steady back and forth of his fingers over the two thin layers of fabric sent a delightful tingle of pleasure up your spine but you couldn’t forget his either–you kept that one hand of your own on his crotch too, gently squeezing his erection through his pants.
Jake huffed softly and kissed you again; you clutched his arm with your other hand, squeezing his bicep. Maybe other people didn’t mind getting caught–maybe there really was some sort of thrill to it. Maybe other people actually sometimes wanted others to witness their most intimate moments but you didn’t. You couldn’t imagine doing this with the lights on in the middle of the day, with the soft noises of people beyond the walls and the risk of someone catching a glimpse from opening the door or from outside the windows. You were perfectly happy with having Jake all to yourself in the shadowed little square study room, his skin so perfectly warm, his kiss so perfectly molded to yours.
“Was this part of your fantasy?” Jake questioned as he slowly sank to his knees, keeping your skirt bunched up over your hips with both hands now. But it was obvious what he was doing, so you took their place to keep it out of the way while his hands squeezed your thighs as he pressed his face between your legs.
The scant sharpness of his teeth over your crotch made you gasp. “Maybe,” you answered, thighs quivering against the table behind you.
“Oh, come on,” Jake beckoned, looking up at you with a sweet but slightly mischievous gaze, his eyebrows raised just enough to display teasing curiosity.
“Seems like you already know,” you replied, stifling a giggle at him struggling to get your tights down from beneath your skirt.
“I don’t know how you wear these things,” he remarked, which made you actually let out a laugh.
“Just rip them for fuck’s sake,” you instructed, eager now, already wet for him. “They’re not expensive.”
Jake didn’t hesitate. “If you insist,” he said as he grabbed a fistful of black nylon in each hand and ripped the tights right open, then quickly pulled your panties to the side next, giving you no time to think at all anymore. Whatever words your mind may have found merely turned to shaky breaths as you watched Jake’s face disappear between your legs again.
He gave a little hum just as he went straight in, the bridge of his nose rubbing up against your clit while he dove his tongue into your center like he really did want to eat up all the arousal that had been conjured up just for him. Your fingers found his hair again, knuckles curling to tug the long strands while your nails scratched his scalp again and he let out a little pleased sound, almost like a gratified laugh, and dug his own blunt nails into your inner thigh as he kept you spread open.
One word finally emerged from your lips–Jake’s name, simply spoken in a soft tone as the ministration of his tongue and lips had you squirming and quivering even harder, your heels digging into the carpet below as you slightly struggled to stay upright. The repeated flicks of tongue over your clit disappeared for a brief moment, then slowed to one long drag of his tongue over your center just to start that quick pace again. Sighs and whimpers were dragged out of you with each lick; when Jake slipped two fingers in, the slow but easy stretch made you tremble and clench your fingers into his hair even harder.
“You’re so tight,” he commented when he pulled back just enough for you to look down again and see your own wetness glistening on his lips and chin. You could feel it too, how much tighter you were clenching around his fingers as he gently thrust them and teased, curling them and now rubbing your clit with his thumb.
“You’re so good,” you told him breathlessly, closing your eyes again when the sensations had you arching your back. You hissed and bit your lip when Jake’s mouth found you again, his tongue teasing your clit more while he slid his fingers in deeper.
You had thought it would take more of a conscious effort to relax in this space and just let go, but it was easy, so easy–you just let your body respond to Jake with each tremble and moan and gasp and tug at his hair until your legs were outright shaking. Panting, the peak rising deep inside, you pulled him closer and he obliged, sucking on your clit as his fingers curled and gently tugged deep inside you too as if he was literally trying to pull you right to the edge you were already rapidly careening to.
His name from your lips once more wasn’t a soft little sigh; it was a sharp, long whine that seemed to boom in the little study room. Your ferocity surprised you even more when the overstimulation came on so soon and you yanked his head back with one hand and shoved him away with the other, your hand gripping his shoulder. Panting, eyes still shut, you could feel how much wetter you were with his saliva and the rush of your orgasm, the fluid soaking your panties that were pulled to the side and even the very inside of your thighs.
Jake pressing a kiss to your thigh made you look down but he was getting up on his feet now; your gaze followed the steady movement of his rise and then you were whisked away into blissful darkness again when he closed in and kissed you–close-lipped because he was so polite. But you parted yours and slid your tongue over his and gripped his waist tight for a moment before hastily getting those buttons on his shirt undone, fingers trailing all the way down to get his pants undone next.
He tentatively pushed you back onto the table a bit more so your feet were off the floor, legs still spread wide around him and dangling when he pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to reveal that heated hardness. His cock leaked just a bit as he stroked it once, looking at you, and a blip of that old insecurity born from adoration and fascination stroked your brain, because Jake was just so beautiful and his beauty was so much more stark in contrast to the plain white walls behind him.
“That was intense,” Jake said with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips as he slid the head of his cock all through your wet center, making a point to rub longer and harder over your clit. As he slid in, taking your breath away entirely, he sighed too and you watched his shoulders drop and his chest flush and he asked, so casually, “Is your fantasy being fulfilled?”
Even with the impact of Jake’s cock filling you so perfectly, you had to laugh. “You're a fantasy, Jake,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, to make the head of his cock hit so deep inside you that you gasped again as if you weren’t expecting the feeling. “What about–” You had to pause when Jake gave his first thrust. “What about your fantasy? This was all your idea.”
“It was a shared idea,” he reminded you with the cutest little smile. How could anyone be so sexy and adorable at the same time, especially during the actual act of sex, especially when that sex was taking place inside a public library? But he was, and you kept your eyes on him as he steadily sped up with his hips and his hands explored your body over your clothes, one squeezing your breast through your shirt and the other smoothing down your waist, your hip, traveling around your thigh.
“Oh god,” you chirped when Jake’s fingers made contact with your still-sensitive clit; but he was gentle, clearly deliberately being slow with the little circles he was making. With your arms still a loop around his shoulders, you sank your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and held him there for a minute before the soft pink of his chest became too tempting not to touch.
“Fuck yeah, that feels amazing,” Jake said in that deliciously hazy, husky voice after you slipped your hands past his open shirt to toy with his nipples. Bringing more attention to him put your lingering overstimulation in the background–you continued to tease with one hand while the other skated over the other side of his chest, feeling his warm, soft skin, up to his neck. You caressed him there, your fingers lightly touching the tender skin along his throat and then up to his ear, and Jake moaned softly and tilted his head to try and get more contact.
That was fine by you. You lightly scratched behind his ear like he was a cat and he sort of purred like one anyway, making you giggle; Jake giggled too and surged forward, picking up his pace as he whisked you away with another series of kisses that were deep but just sloppy enough for your mutual moans to be voiced.
But, also to your surprise, Jake began to voice more thoughts between increasingly ragged breaths: “Remember when we first met?” he asked, his fingers over your clit sliding down to get slick again from your own arousal. “That was–fuck, that was such a good day.”
“It was,” you agreed, playing with one of his earrings as your other hand squeezed his pec. “I’m lucky I even got the job here. For a lot of reasons.” You stole another lingering kiss before adding, “You’re the biggest reason.”
Jake smiled. The sunset that had been just barely clinging to life when you’d both began was gone now–the only illumination was coming from a parking lot light that was too far away from the windows to see, but the pale yellow glow was scant enough to see that alluring, mystical beauty that your boyfriend possessed. Just looking at his face was enough to make you come again.
But Jake’s skilled fingers and the heat, weight and stretch of his cock still thrusting into you certainly helped. You buried your face against his neck now that you had access to all of him; a thick sob was muffled as you tightened and spasmed around him, and you heard him let out a quiet “wow” as the second orgasm rolled through you.
His fingers on your clit, thankfully, moved away. He gripped your thigh again instead; his pace was now messy and fierce, and you had to fight to stay in place not only from the harsh movements and how the table you were sitting on was skidding a bit across the floor, but also from that second round of intense bodily excitement.
“God,” you huffed, stifling another laugh. Apparently it didn't matter where you were–if you were with Jake, he just gave you the giggles. “You’re really going for it.”
Jake cradled the back of your head, messing with your hair a bit. “And I’m–hmm–almost there.”
You kissed him softly and sweetly, from his collarbone and up his neck to his ear. “Good boy,” you whispered there, giving his ear a nibble. Jake moaned wordlessly in response and gave one last deep, solid thrust that jostled you backwards and made the table creak, then he went slack over you, his whole upper body all loose and so hot that warmth was radiating through his shirt.
When Jake lifted his head, you leaned back and waved the back of your hand over your forehead with a silly “whew” motion; Jake laughed and nodded, then slowly pulled out. He collapsed forward again, resting his head on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him once more.
“Well, we’ve done it once. Do we ever need to do it again?” you asked, petting his back.
“Like, um, sex?” Jake asked, mumbling against your chest. “Or sex in the library?”
“In the library, duh,” you said with a chuckle, and kissed him when he lifted himself up and looked at you.
“Where else should we do it?” Jake replied, his tone and little smile making it obvious he was kidding–finally. You were glad to have played out this little fantasy and do something new and a little risky, but you’d be even more glad to just go back to the way things were. Nothing wrong with a classic.
“Our bed, definitely,” you said, and Jake smiled and nodded again; you began working on buttoning up his shirt. “Our couch. The floor. Maybe the shower.”
“Maybe?”
“Last time we tried the shower, you nearly cracked your head open,” you reminded him, lifting a hand to cup his jaw. “And nearly broke your perfect teeth.”
Jake’s smile grew wider. “That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”
“I’d never forgive that stupid shower.”
Jake patted his hands from your shoulders down the length of your body, stopping at your ankles. “Well, babe, we’re both in one piece now, aren’t we? Time to close up?”
“Definitely. The custodians are probably going to be here any minute.”
“Oh my.” Jake held your hand to bring you off the table. “That would have been quite the show for them.”
“No more shows,” you said as you both put the finishing touches on getting yourselves decent before Jake opened the door. “I should be the only one looking at you when we fuck.”
---
If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can let me know here or DM me :)
Tagging: @kissingsun @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @milojames16 @mindastreamofcolours @wetkleenex-gvf @itsafullmoon @heckingfrick @peaceloveunitygvf @musicspeaks @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta
#cumsluts only#in honor of my old gvf mutuals RIP#Jake kiszka#Jake gvf#Jake kiszka x reader#gvf#greta van fleet#gvf fanfiction#Jake fic#gvf smut
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Birthday boy | Gojo Satoru
My little drabble for Satoru’s bday! Just a short little fluff fest for my favorite man <3
“Toru, wake up it’s your birthday!” you roll over to shake him awake, he was a surprisingly heavy sleeper when he wanted to be, “the kids are definitely gonna have things prepared over at the school. They’ll be really upset if you’re latee”
He groans slowly waking up and rubbing his eyes, “if it’s my birthday shouldn’t we do whatever I want today?” Satoru sweeps you into his arms and wraps around you like a koala, “let’s just stay in hmm?” his lips trail to your shoulder peppering it with kisses before nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. He’s so childish but you love him, not even trying to escape. If Satoru really put his mind to something, there was no way of stopping him.
So you let him hold you, tangled limbs under the covers and his bigger frame enveloping you whole. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. In fact you wished you could stay wrapped up in him forever, that he’d never have to leave to save the world, but of course that would never happen. It wasn’t often he had days off so you let yourself indulge in his love, always gone in the morning before you wake up— you wanted to sleep in too.
For someone that was so feared and idolized, Satoru was surprisingly very domestic. When he had the time he liked doing things around the house with you. Helping you clean, cook, the laundry, all the little things made him feel alive. Made you alive. He loved just doing nothing with you too, just laying in bed like this. He could feel your heart beat against his chest and the soft heat of your skin against his. Like a cat rubbing against a heater, you made the harsh cold of life feel so warm.
“Utahime and Nanami are really gonna beat your ass this time Toru~” your little giggles when he squeezed you tighter was all he needed. The soft pads of your fingers dragging up and down the muscles in his arm, he didn’t want anything else. He pressed his nose to the nape of your neck taking in the calming scent of your shampoo.
“Know they can’t touch me baby,” his voice reverberated against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. It was true and everyone knew it, an unfathomably big ego and the skill to back it up— Gojo Satoru was a dangerous man for many reasons. Sometimes you thought about how funny it’d be for his enemies to see him like this, so soft and peaceful at your side.
On your night stand you could hear the quiet buzz against the wood. You assumed it was probably the birthday group chat asking about where you were. When you reached out to text back his arm was already draping over you to get to it first. Stupidly long limbs, he tended to get things for and before you a lot. Satoru quickly unlocked it with his face ID you suggested he put in and opened up your camera to snap a picture of you both. His eyes were still a bit heavy with sleep but he wore his signature cocky grin all the same while you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment.
He sent off the picture and added a short message before tossing your phone to the opposite bottom corner of the bed and immediately resumed his clingy position, “Satoru! What did you just say?” you squirmed in his hold to no avail, his smile still evident against your skin.
“Don’t worry honeyyy, just gave us more time,” unable to hold back your sigh, you sank back against him with a pout, “don’t give me that look, know it’s cuz’ I love you right?” he turned you in his arms so you could look at him face to face and put on his best puppy dog eyes. Annoyingly, you felt your features soften and pressed your lips against his for a sweet kiss.
“I know Toru, love you too. To be honest I missed this.” the sun was peering in through the blinds and reflecting off his hair to sparkle just like snow, you’d always said he was the pretty one in the relationship which he would always adamantly deny, going on and on about your beauty.
Sunshine and slow mornings never felt so good. Although you would never fully understand the world he comes from, you knew from the moment he was born a bounty had been placed on his head. With every passing birthday being another year the world remained forever dictated by his existence, a burden that you couldn’t fathom in the slightest. Yet here he was, not as the strongest, not as the savior for mankind, simply as the man you loved. The man who’d give up everything for you.
“Happy birthday Satoru.”
I miss you everyday
Bonus meanwhile…..
“I’m gonna kill that stupid little stuck up son of a-“
“Utahime, the children are here,” MeiMei tapped her on the shoulder, a sly smile on her face from watching the younger women’s rage, “you best keep your vocabulary in check.”
“Aww sensei looks so happy though!” Yuuji smiled looking at the picture. He was seemingly the only one to think so optimistically about the smug faced strongest.
“I’m gonna eat his cake without him if he keeps this up.” Nobara had already taken a slice.
“I don’t know how that blindfolded idiot ever ended up with such an intelligent woman…..” Fushiguro stood in the corner, watching the chaos his teacher caused knowing he was the only one enjoying peace and quiet at home.
#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen manga#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk season 2#gojo x you#gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader
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Yuuji/Sukuna x Reader
A/N: I have so many ideas in my head and I am planning on making a poll for people to pick which one comes out first, I just cant decide for myself!!!
Summ: Bit of a blindfold type of prank in bed where big ol’ Sukuna convinces Yuuji to do something w a blindfold >:)
A little bit of guilt tripping, but thats okay because its them :)
“Look, idiot. Blindfold.” Says Sukuna to Yuuji, while you’re wandering around the store somewhere.
“What am I gonna do with that?” Y
“You know what, we talked about it a long while ago.” S
“Oh, come on, Sukuna! I’m not letting you out for any reason.” Yuuji practically yells throughout the whole store.
You heard it, of course. But you chucked it off to Sukuna trying to manipulate Yuuji to let him out.
“I was a god of my time, all the women I had, all my concubines..
Tell you what, kid. We do this, and I stay quiet for a month.” S
Shit, that was something Yuuji couldn’t deny.. A whole month without this scratchy annoying ass voice? Sure thing, but, what would you think about it he thought to himself.
“We don’t tell her, that is what the blindfold would be for, idiot.” Sukuna interrupts Yuuji’s train of thoughts, trying his best to convince him more than he has already.
“Fine..” He. Gave. In.
“Uh, hey baby?” Y
“Yes, love?” Y/N
He’s starting to stutter, Sukuna berates him for that.
“Uhm.. I wanted to ask, would you want to try a blindfold during sex with me?” Yuuji shuffles in his seat, the blindfold making one of his pockets stuffy and tight.
“Why though? Can’t we just turn the lights off like normal?” Y/N
“Well… I just thought it would be fun to try…” He says, looking away. He knew how to push your buttons, how to guilt trip you into these things, of course, only when Sukuna pled him for them.
“Okay, okay, fine! We can try it, but please, don’t do anything weird, baby.” You also gave in.
Now, you’re laying in bed. Yuuji atop of you, kneading and touching all the right spots he learned make you hot all over while the blindfold makes you see nothing but pitch black.
He’s always so tender, so soft with your touches and you love it so much.
He kisses down to your stomach, hands sliding all over your thighs until he reaches the spot he wants to love the most at this time. Leaning down, he gets stopped by Sukuna’s scratchy voice in his head again, the moment ruined for him completely.
“Put your hand near her pussy, I want to try somethin’.” S
“Oh, for fuck sakes, Sukuna, can’t you let me enjoy this at least?” Y
“You can enjoy fucking her first orgasm into her later, now do it.” S
With a small sigh, hoping you don’t hear it, he puts his hand up to your pussy, watching what Sukuna will try to do to you. He’s cautious, scared even, what if Sukuna doesn’t do what he promised?
He can’t lie, but he feels relieved when Sukuna’s big mouth appears on his own hand, diving its tongue right into you. It’s so lewd, so hot, he feels his pants tighten so much more.
You squirm and moan as the tongue laps you up, sucking and licking you inside out. You figure the blindfold just made Yuuji more aroused, that he likes it. All the thoughts left your mind when you felt a small breeze of wind on your stomach, like a breath. With the stimulation going to your pussy, you chalk it up to some air coming in through the window.
The coil in your stomach snaps and you come all over Yuuji’s hand, Sukuna makes sure to enjoy all of it, overstimulating you in the process which makes you almost scream that it’s too much.
Yuuji hears Sukuna scoff in his head, calling your stamina low.
Comes the moment where Yuuji finally gets the chance to indulge you for a moment while he can. A slow moan leaving both of you as his dick slides into you slowly, both of you savoring the experience.
He starts off slow, getting into a faster rythm as he feels his own orgasm approaching along with yours, the heavenly moans of his name make him want to pound into you like a rabid animal.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby!”
Both of you chant in unision as you get close to your orgasms.
You think this is gonna be the end of it when you both come holding eachother in your arms, but unfortunately no.
After coming down from your orgasm, your hand reaches up to the blindfold to take it off once and for all, but a big strong hand grasps your wrist, almost like telling you not to take the blindfold off.
You feel more hands starting to touch you, grasping and kneading your body roughly, it feels weird, like there’s more than two hands…
Wait, one hand is at your wrist, and theres three more all over you, exploring your whole body.
“Y-Yuuji, what’s happening?” You ask with a shakey and concerned tone.
Nothing in responce but silence. With a futile attempt of seeing what is going on, you reach up with your free hand only for it to get gripped by another hand. Two others left to explore your body more.
Yuuji’s watching, he sees everything, seeing you so scared because of.. him. It breaks his heart that something so selfish made you so scared of him, without realising it’s not even him at all, but Sukuna.
One of Sukuna’s hands grabs your boob, the mouth on it sucking your nipple, biting it. It makes you moan out. Sukuna takes the chance and swiftly slides one of his cocks into you again and it brings a satisfying yelp out of you.
To calm your nerves, he starts fucking you matching Yuuji’s original rythm. Planning on doing everything his way when you’re at least a bit more comfortable.
As you do calm according to the plan, he starts gathering all your cum and slick around his shaft and uses it as lube for his second cock and your ass. He plays with the rim, watching your expression go from almost concerned to scared when you feel his two fingers switch to a huge cock, prodding at you.
Fuck, you want to scream but just can’t, the thought of trying something like this once.
The stretch you feel as he finally pushes both cocks in at the same time makes you cum. You can’t lie, you want him to move, but you know he is wating for you to adjust to everything he is giving you right now.
“M-Move, please..” a huge smirk appears on his face as he hears you submissively ask that of him so nicely. Almost like he starts to care a bit, he moves, but slowly. And that’s all because of Yuuji begging his ass off for Sukuna to take it easy on you. If it wasn’t for Yuuji, sukuna would have tore you apart, ruined you.
Sukuna tries to indule and savor you just like Yuuji would for a second, until he decides that fuck it, it’s his chance to savor you in his own way.
He thrusts into you hard, so hard that it brings the air out of you completely, accompanied with a loud moan of pain and pleasure. The way he rocks into you so carelesly makes tears drop from the corners of your eyes, soaking into the blindfold.
“Fucking hell, Yuuji, this shits’ amazing.” Sukuna says to Yuuji just to tease him, tuning out Yuuji’s absolute beratement and angry words to him.
Your pain quickly switched to immense pleasure, loud moans slipping out at every thrust so you just fell limp, your hands falling at your sides. That gave Sukuna a chance to use his other hands to lick and feel all over your body once again and fuck you into oblivion even harder, as he now had the ability to hold onto your hips with more hands.
You came 4 times that night. Awaking with a fucked out Yuuji on top of you, his whole face stained with tears.
As you looked at him, you immediately knew Sukuna took over. But to his credit, that was possibly the best sex you had ever experienced in your whole life.
#smut#jujutsu kaisen#yuji itadori#itadori yuuji#yuji x reader#yuji headcanons#sukuna#jujutsu smut#anime smut#jjk yuuji#yuuji x you#x reader#reader insert#sukuna x reader
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HAYYYY BFF CAN YOU DO SOME RAFE ANGST LIKE BREAK MY HEART MAKE HIM CHEAT OR SOMETHING I NEED IT PLSSSSSS.
Things had been rocky since you guys came back from Guadeloupe. Rafe had been so focused on figuring out what to do about the cross and taking over Ward’s business. He had also gone to meet up with Barry, which you weren’t happy about and made that very clear.
Somehow, you managed to talk him into a dinner with you, just to take a break from everything that’s going on. It was the first time in a year that things felt normal between you two. Ever since last summer with everything that happened with Peterkin and his whole drug addiction. That was one thing you were grateful that came out of all of this, was he stopped with the drugs.
The normalcy was slowing down the longer you sat at the table at the country club. Rafe was 15 minutes late and you starting to give up. You had stuck by him through everything; dropping out of college, his drug addiction, everything with Peterkin. Hell, you even went with him to Guadeloupe and yet, he can’t even show up to one date with his girlfriend?
Another 15 minutes had passed when you decided to throw down a 20 onto the table before leaving and heading over to Tanny Hill. Pulling up to the house, you let out a scoff at seeing a few hundred people on the property. Your lip quivered as you leaned your head back onto the head rest. You were hoping he would have had some kind of reasoning on why he was half an hour late but here he was, throwing a party.
Taking a deep breath, you shook your head before getting out of the car. All you wanted to do was yell at everyone in this place but you were saving all of your anger for Rafe. Shoving your way up the stairs and ignoring all the remarks from everyone, you spotted a familiar face sitting on the couch on the balcony.
“Of course you’re here,” You snapped, stopping in front of Barry, who looked up at you with a smirk, “Where is he?”
“If it ain’t Mrs Country Club.” He laughed, “Was wondering when you were gonna show up here.”
“Where is he?” You asked once again, patience wearing thin with him. Barry let out a chuckle as he motioned to the bedroom behind him.
You just weren’t prepared to see Rafe with his up some girls skirt.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!?”
The two pulled away at the out burst and looked over at you. Rafe’s heart dropped at the look on your face and he could see your lip start to quiver. You recognized her from the country club. She was a bar tender and she went to college with you before she dropped out. Rafe followed after you as you rushed out of the room.
He called after you but all you cared about was getting away from the house. Away from him.
“(Y/n)!” Rafe grabbed hold of your arm as you stopped in front of your car and turned you to face him. Tears had welled up in your eyes and he brushed the ones that fell away with his thumb, “I can explain.”
You cut him off with a dry laugh, rolling your eyes at him, “Explain what? You were too busy with your new friends and your new play thing that you forgot about your girlfriend? Forgot about me?”
Your voice broke as you looked up him, “You forgot about me, Rafe. The one person who has been by your side for everything. And I mean, everything. All for…people who don’t care about you?”
“I didn’t forget about you, baby,” he denied shaking his head, “I just got too caught up here and with everything going on…”
You let out a sigh, pulling your head out of his hands and took a step back, “That’s just a longer way of saying you forgot, Rafe. I can’t do this anymore.”
Rafe slowly started to panic. He knew you could only take so much more before you would snap. The fucked up thing was, he could hear you talking to Barry out on the balcony but didn’t care to pull away from the girl. He didn’t know why he took the girl into the room with him. Hell, he didn’t even know why he threw the party. He just never expected to have you try and end things.
“C-can’t do what?,” He asked, taking a step towards you but stopped when you took a step back, “Are you- are you breaking up with me?”
“I love you, Rafe. So much. And you know I do. I jus- I just, you forgot about me and when I came looking, hoping that you had a real reason for bailing on dinner, I come here and find you with a bartender. Do you think she’d stick by your side through all of this? Would have lied to the police about the day on the tarmac? Or stuck by when you with your drug addiction?”
“I’m tired, Rafe. Tired of constantly looking over my shoulder all the time, tired of worrying if your coming home at the end of the day,” You explained, opening your car door, “I’m sorry, Rafe.”
#outer banks#drew starkey#rafe cameron#drew starkey imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks imagines#rafe obx#obx#outer banks imagine#obx rafe#outerbanks rafe#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagines#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#obx imagines#obx imagine#obx angst
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EP 4 was just mostly talking and conversations, but there was so much depth THAT I MUST TALK ABOUT IT.
I could literally feel the anguish exuding out of Sally trying to teach Percy to swim
Ngl i was a lil skeptical about azrien’s acting but hearing that scream changed everything
“Hey, you still sleeping?” “Yes” she’s so relatable i love it
i thought we were going to wait until the zebra truck scene for the trauma bonding but we got some of it now which is cool and also makes me wonder whether they’re going to take it to a whole level in the zebra truck scene
I kinda like how annabeth knows so much about grover their dynamic in the show is just so chef’s kiss
I dont know if the whole “thalia made me earn it” thing is canon but its an interesting spin on their dynamic
Grover is such a mood pls shoutout to grover (this episode focused a lil more on percy and annabeth’s dynamic)
Its interesting how they changed frederick chase in the show. In the book frederick never wanted annabeth but in the show frederick loved annabeth. It makes more sense now that percy asks her to go back especially in the books, that was very controversial to have annabeth seem like she was overexaggerating about what she went through with them
i was waiting for them to introduce the searcher pan stuff i almost thought they’d erased it, thankfully they brought it up
ANNABETH’S FACE WHEN THE COP CALLED HER A “LITTLE GIRL” LEAH YOU’RE A ROCKSTAR
Medusa>>>>echidna in the show IM SORRY ECHIDNA WOULDN’T STOP TALKING
The architect in annabeth is coming out i hope she explicitly talks about it later on
I don’t think the writers knew what to do with grover when percy and annabeth were talking so they just made annabeth a little unnecessarily rude for some reason?? At least its better than the movies, where annabeth and grover just WALK AWAY from hermes and percy
i didnt expect the random posh voice it threw me off but it was so funny
OK but can someone help me with this? Percy in this scene says “i have a gift” to annabeth? Could someone pls explain? What gift?
Last episode i was cringing at the screen at percy for the “can’t we just call your mom?” This episode i was cringing at the screen for annabeth’s “you wanna say hi to your dad :))))” these kids have no sense of touchy subjects do they
you’ve done so much more to me in the past few days than poseidon has done in my whole life. If i have to stick with somebody, i—“ “be careful, you were about to call me a friend” THIS DIALOGUE IS SO PRECIOUS ITS WORTH A BILLION DOLLARS
Im suspicious about the percabething this series is doing so far, i feel like its too early, its giving me a feeling that there’s going to be some big angst thats going to happen later on to break the world
When Percy fell, i was genuinely thinking he was going to give annabeth a hug lol (“wow annabeth no you are my friend!!” Something like that)
alexa play jump and fall by ts
I love that they’re expanding the consequences that came with sending medusa’s head to olympus, and how it negatively impacted annabeth, which will probably turn angsty later on
Also, percy looks half dead
The plan to push annabeth into the stairs was executed so smoothly wow
i like they are exploring the very concerning side of percy too, the part of him thats like “im the useless one im ready to die no probs” ALSO THALIA PARALLELS THEY’RE DEF GONNA TOUCH ON THAT NEXT EPISODE
i like how the water grabbed percy like a little tunnel
Its so funny how the nereid says poseidon’s name and percy just starts struggling more like “HELL NO”
THE PARALLELS OF THE START OF THE EPISODE OF PERCY TELLING SALLY TO BREATHE AND THE END OF THE EPISODE OF NEREID TELLING PERCY TO BREATHE
What the heck is that throne thing? Why is percy turning golden? What is happening? HUGGGGGG!! (Too early, as i said), oh look ares—OMG ITS ARES!!
#Rip pink poodle hopefully u come later on#percabeth#percy jackson#pjo fandom#annabeth chase#rick riordan#heroes of olympus#pjo#pjo tv series#pjo tv show#percy jackon and the olympians#percy x annabeth#annabeth percy jackson#percy and annabeth#percy series#percy pjo#annabeth#riordanverse#grover underwood#walker scobell#leah sava jeffries#aryan simhadri#tag for me to see later on
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the power of love, part 13 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)
Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 14
(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)
Steve POV
When Steve’s finished slumping forward and retching, he’s so through with everything.
“You did good with the lightning, kid.” Hopper scrapes Steve’s hair from his face. He’s still got an arm about him, pretty much all that’s stopping Steve collapsing onto the dirt. “Let’s hope we don’t need it again, huh?”
Steve sniffs, takes the kleenex Hopper offers and dabs his lips. As his super-fast breaths finally slow, his brain kicks off:
I got superpowers! Henderson’s gonna flip! Shame about the glitches, what with the blacking out and puking my guts out. The sound of a rushing river distracts him. He’s been hearing it, on and off, for hours.
He kneels a little more upright. Hopper gives him some space, passes him some water. “How far exactly have you travelled from Hawkins since the accident at Lover’s Lake?”
The accident? Oh yeah. I died. Twice.
Steve hasn’t told anyone about his second joyride into the afterlife in the Soviet base. Somehow, being an idiot as a kid is way easier to share. A damp breeze rattles through the trees, slapping him back to the present.
“Steve?” prompts Hopper.
“I… uh, I played basketball all over the state.” Even after drinking, his voice is a croaky mess. “Swim meets, too. Been a few times to Indianapolis. I was okay.”
Hopper scratches his stubbly jaw, looking almost as bushed as Steve feels. “How okay?”
“To be honest, I was kicked off the starting squad after a couple of the more distant games. Crappy performances, and I got humiliatingly sick on the bus.” It all makes sense now. “I survived.”
“Fine. You’re a tough guy. You’re gonna have to tough your way through this journey. I can’t leave you behind.”
“Eleven survived in the woods for—”
“At that stage, she didn’t have half the US army on her back.” He pats Steve, powerful enough to rock him. “She’d gotten experience with her powers, too.”
Steve can’t fathom if he’s feeling slightly patronised or dead relieved. All he really wants is to lie somewhere quiet and sleep for a year. Instead, he must drag himself to his feet—or, in the event, he lets Hopper do the dragging. He can’t help asking, though:
“Chief, can you hear running water? Like, loud.”
And getting louder. Niagara loud, in fact.
“No. Why? Can you?”
“Oh… um, maybe not.”
Okay. It’s totally in my head. Why aren’t I panicking harder?
When they reach the Humvee, Robin and Eddie are no longer at each other’s throats. On the contrary, they’re huddled in some deep and meaningful chat. As one, they slam Steve with stricken bunny-rabbit stares, which make him want to laugh so goddamn loud.
During the torturous drive, he sleeps, and his mind drifts back to the Soviet base. He’s caught in that furious red tide, which roars through his aching head. It’s echoed by a caressing whisper: You’ll know when it’s time to go home.
“Yeah, I got it. Shut the fuck up.”
“Rude! Wasn’t saying anything.”
“Huh?” He lifts his cheek from Robin’s shoulder. Her worried, tear-stained eyes overshadow the amusement ruffling her lips. Jesus, I’m breaking my friends! “Dreaming. Sorry.”
He gingerly rolls his shoulders. The side in the sling twinges miserably, and yet… Now he knows he’s gotta ditch the whole bunch of them, the fug of sickness is clearing. He feels better. Much better, in fact.
He keeps the news tight.
If he plays poorly, they won’t expect him to sneak away, right? Though, the plan pitches him another problem—when he does escape, how can he stop Robin and Eddie coming after him? Eddie, particularly, would be in beyond deep shit if he got taken.
Inevitably, the Humvee gets stuck again. When Hopper asks Steve to take the wheel, Steve grabs up a green army notebook he’d spotted in the footwell, a stubby pencil also. He scribbles fast, between revving the engine.
“Eddie, I love you. Please don’t follow me. Steve x”
I love you.
Wtf?
When he’d blundered down that path with Nance, he’d been licking the scars two-and-a-half years’ later. With Robin, of course, things turned out different.
Then Eddie Munson happened.
To be fair, knowing Eddie as he did now, he doesn’t actually believe Eddie would vomit on the note. Maybe only cackle a while. Either way, Steve would no way in hell obey a love letter, telling him not to follow, from anybody he cared about.
Given recent form, he doesn’t think Eddie would either.
He scrunches the note into his pocket then scribbles furiously at ‘take two’:
“Eddie, DON’T FOLLOW ME. You make me sick. Steve.”
Jesus, that’s hopeless. You make me sick? He doesn’t mean that, apart from… It’s sorta true. Steve detests it, however, longs to try again. He’s out of time.
He stuffs the second note into Eddie’s pack, as Hopper opens the door. “We’re gonna have to walk from here. Think you can make it?”
“Dunno,” says Steve. For purely tactical reasons. Likewise, he doesn’t volunteer to carry many supplies.
As they trudge their way through the trees, his chances to run aren’t happening. Everybody’s way quieter than usual—edgy, like during that drive in the RV before they faced down Vecna. When he tries subtly falling behind, they all jump to help him. Even worse, they reach the liaison spot way sooner than he expects. Thankfully, for Steve, the car isn’t there.
“Where the hell are they?” Hopper gets out a compass to check they’re in the right spot.
“Because compasses are so accurate near Hawkins,” gripes Steve, his pulse thudding madly. It really is now or never, and why the hell hasn’t he got a better plan?
“We’re far enough out that the gates shouldn’t make a difference, right?” Eddie says.
How do we know? How do we know that Vecna hasn’t swallowed Hawkins whole, while we’re running away pissing ourselves yellow?
Steve bites this back. It’s not like he wants them coming with him. He sits down on the verge, presses his face to his bent knees. Soon as he dares, he gets up again.
“Where you going?” asks Robin, clambering up also.
“I need to pee,” says Steve. Eddie’s on his feet too. Steve can’t look him in the eye, and the words nearly choke him. “I don’t need a babysitter. Shoo!”
He walks back into the forest, upping his pace as soon as the trees obscure him. It’s gonna be a long trek, he’s hardly got any supplies, and he’s got a weird sense that, no, he isn’t gonna get through this time. He follows the sound of the water, because it seems obvious that he should.
And he feels more torn apart than ever.
The tug back to Hawkins is overwhelming, but the tug back toward Robin and Eddie? It’s like somebody has wound a thread around his heart, attached it to the pair of them. As he strides farther away, the thread snares tight, like that rope around his wrist did.
He’s annoyed—if not exactly surprised—to hear somebody thrashing through the forest behind him. Robin yells, “Steve! Steeeeeve!”
He finally locates a small stream, which seems to be the source of the supernaturally loud torrent. He skids down the bank, landing in about three inches of water, and crouches low.
Go by, Robin. Dammit, turn back.
She tumbles into the stream a yard off, landing on her ass with a loud splash and a louder squeak.
“Uuuuugh!” She takes the hand he offers, and they scramble to their feet together. “Steve, what the hell are you doing?”
“What the hell are you doing?”
She flicks pond scum from her legs and grimaces spectacularly. “Stopping you being an IDIOT! And since when were you not sick? God, I was so worried! Were you faking?”
“You know I wasn’t. I got… fixed.”
“Fixed? Like, HOW?”
He urgently presses a finger to his lips. “Sssssh! Keep your voice down! Look, I don’t know exactly, and I can’t go back. Hopper will make me get in that car.”
“He can’t force you.” Her glare is louder than her voice was.
“Whatever. He and El need to go. You and Eddie need to go.”
“You heard what Hopper said. They’ll torture you for information—they could kill you.”
“Been there, done that, Robin.”
“This isn't funny.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Steve sighs hard, belatedly noticing the stream has breached his sneakers. “All I do know is that I feel more myself already, turning around.” Following the water. “Also, Hop’s right—El can’t defeat Vecna with the military gunning for her. I don’t know exactly what I can do yet, but I have to try, whatever it is. So, please, Robin. Go back. Tell the others you couldn’t find me.”
“Eddie won’t leave without—”
“Which is why I gotta move! Take care, all right?”
He wants to hug her so bad. Instead, he sloshes away.
“Ugh, slow down!”
“Seriously?” He turns about suddenly. She nearly smashes into him and takes the opportunity to get right in his face.
“I am so mad with you! You made me run after you, my butt is drenched, and now you’re making me walk along a horrible ditch, all the way back to Hawkins?”
“It’s the quickest route.” He doesn’t know how he knows, only that he does. He turns around, wades onwards. The damp never bothered me anyway…
“Then why don’t we follow the bank, Steve?”
She has a point. “Oh. Okay.” They clamber up the sides, start following the stream from above. It’s as slippery as the riverbed and overgrown with treacherously tangly weeds.
“Eeeeeew! When this is over,” says Robin, “I am never, ever venturing into the totally-not-great outdoors again.”
“You don’t have to do any of this, Robin.”
Her latest scowl is more jokey—and fond—than he figures he deserves. “Shut up, Dingus. You know I do.”
Part 14
tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)
(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 14
#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steve harrington whump#steddie#steddie fanfic#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson#stobin fanfic#platonic stobin#stobin
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Farscape Rewatch - Different Destinations, 3x05
I think DD is the single most depressing, bleakest episode of Farscape and one I find hardest to watch and rewatch; it makes me cry. There are more heartbreaking episodes out there, true. Episodes I ended up sobbing in more than I do here (DMD for one). But the reason DD is so profoundly bleak is that the message, the meaning of the story seems to be: there is no point in trying, anything you do makes it worse and there is nothing you can do to make it right.
Because the whole situation is ultimately no one’s fault? Or everyone. I suppose, if you want to really attenuate the blame, you can blame John, because he wanted Stark to be comforted. Stark is, after all, now near catatonic in his loss of Zhaan. I think his initial composure was just shock and it wore off and he descended into this. Here he is imitating Zhaan’s words and gestures, as if he’s turning himself into a facsimile in grief.
I think that part of the reason that John wants to comfort Stark is because John is, despite everything, despite the fact that it has been beaten out of him until there is only narrow scope, is innately kind. But another part is that I think John recognizes a certain kinship, with insanity in Stark, and with loss of love driving one mad. It’s further and twisted but there and I think John has a certain ‘here but for the grace of God go I reaction. I love the scene with D’Argo, Aeryn, John and Stark, where Aeryn, frustrated, turns to D’Argo if he is feeling lonely because he and she are the only ones not hearing voices in their head.
Or I am thinking of a later scene in ‘Meltdown’ when John tells Stark that Aeryn ‘is my Zhaan.’
But yeah, to give borderline insane, grieving, and very powerful energy being a vid which is half peace treaty, true, but half last battle? Bad idea. But no one in their right (or even wrong mind) would expect a tear in time created by Stark. We can’t blame John for it any more than we can blame Stark for creating the tear, or D’Argo and Aeryn fighting when they got there (they are attacked) etc etc. And John almost did fix everything right, if that nurse didn’t shoot the general at the last minute. I understand her, but I just want to shake her and yell ‘stupid woman.’
The is one of the episodes I get mildly frustrated with the crew playing ‘pin the blame on John’ game, even though they don’t do it overly much, and it’s frustration talking, not genuine blame.. It. Is. Not. His. Fault. UGH. Stop. I know, I know, emotional masochist. Still, come on.
I love the surreal scene of Scorpius playing the harmonica, in cowboy boots with ‘Andy’ on them. And I love Stark’s kindness, even in the midst of his own grief and madness, towards the little girl, Citrina. I never realized before that when he hugs her, once she said she never cried when her father died, he is crying instead and for her. Another transfer of sorts.
He is so gentle throughout, in a way death is his mileau.
But the show, in its consistent bleakness, does not allow a comfort of a peaceful death or life after or anything but bleakness. It refuses even crumbs of comfort.
Or Aeryn, amazing Aeryn, learning that the PK hero Deacon was still a hero, just a very different one, and that underneath the propaganda myths is truth of honor, and the past where PKs were not yet perverted but were defenders of truth and justice. And having to send this kid to die and it ending up meaning nothing in the scheme of things, except another burden for her. She has more optimism in the beginning of this episode than John (who is utterly bleak in his worldview and yet somehow it still goes below his nonexistent expectations, still breaks his heart.)
I love D’Argo’s moment of bonding with the kid, as well. But he is not as distraught at the end because ultimately, both he and Aeryn are tougher, soldiers from birth by nature and nurture and culture and blood. Unless it’s the death of a few very specific people, they can function on, stiff upper lip, no wound on them as bad as John’s, who is despite it all, just a talented amateur.
And so we end the episode with John utterly hollow, broken, sitting there just sifting sand through his fingers, because yes, they minimized the damage but the nurses were slaughtered anyway, the same nurses who would have been saved if they never went through. And I love that, as always, it is Aeryn who is there for him at his lowest, who is there to answer his hopelessly decent person’s ‘What was the point? [of the murders]’ with her PK-nihilistic ‘There probably was no point.’
The Universe is cruel and even trying to help ends up worse and how far has John come (been broken) from the idealist of the beginning, and how much further into darkness and despair he still has to travel. I think he is so shattered because he never gets truly used to the cruelty of the Universe. I wonder if it’s because he’s had a safe, proper childhood. It makes him fight because of his burning sense of injustice, but it also makes him vulnerable the way Aeryn and D’Argo, who are soldiers by birth, culture and breeding, or even Chiana and Zhaan never are.
I love that at his lowest moment in this ep, in this season so far, Aeryn is there for him (I remember years ago on Farscape boards someone pointed out that her name, ‘Aeryn Sun’ is really ‘air and sun,’ two essentials for living. Because that is what she is to John. I have no idea if the makers thought of it, but how incredibly appropriate.)
And the fact that John tried to go back, to fix it, or to save them and die trying is…GUH. I love Crichton so much. Of course, I really don’t see how it’s his fault (not even not leaving the guns, they couldn’t leave future technology), so it’s just his enormous sense of responsibility (just as that is what made him talk to Nurse and tell her they were leaving, as if he wanted to be focal point for blame later).
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The Devil's In The Details
Anyways, another week, another unsolicited Chiara fic that no one asked for, but that I was all too ready and willing to provide. And I actually remembered to post it here and on AO3, since apparently Christmas miracles do exist Below the cut, if anyone wants it :)
In Chiara’s defense, she’s unfamiliar with Hell’s Kitchen because she only just moved to the city and hasn’t exactly had the time to go exploring outside of Queens. Not with track practice, this whole hero sidegig, and now being recruited for the academic decathlon team since Peter has flaked on the trip to nationals. She’s busy, but hey – two of those three after school activities are going to look really good on her transcript in a few years.
If she lives that long, that is.
Because she’s just been kicked in the stomach and sent crashing through a skylight into an abandoned warehouse. Looking up at the night sky above her, her lungs refuse to expand as she wheezes and gasps, the wind knocked firmly out of her. What an introduction to this part of the city.
A figure jumps down through the shattered skylight, and glass crunches as it lands next to her on the cold, hard ground.
“What the hell are you doing here?” a gruff voice demands.
If she could breathe, Chiara would probably crack some joke asking if that pun was intended or not. As it is, though, she uses what little strength she has to push herself onto her side, coming face to face with –
The devil.
Thank God Chiara’s new suit covers her hands, because the broken glass on the ground can’t cut her palms as she attempts to scramble backwards, her breaths now coming in short gasps for a different reason.
This is basically her worst nightmare. This is everything the nuns at her old school warned her about when she would get lectured for playing pranks, for talking back, for any little sign of blasphemy or sacrilege. And all that plays through Chiara’s head again and again on a constant loop is the last straw: stealing that Communion wine with the older kids and drinking it behind the school, returning later, drunk as skunks; her mom having to come get her because the nuns politely requested that Chiara not be re-enrolled next year, and, if possible, they would like to stop dealing with her now; the lecture on the car ride home, with the devastating ‘Right now, you look just like your father’ line, which felt devastating, considering that it was the first and last time her mom had ever given her any clue as to who that might be –
“Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee,” Chiara gasps on instinct.
The devil stops stalking forward, but his shadow looms over her. He turns his head so that his ear is cocked towards her, as if to hear her better. “What?”
“B-blessed art thou among w-women,” Chiara continues, her voice wobbling. If she weren’t so scared and if she could catch her breath, she could probably use her powers to escape. But she’s so focused on trying to correctly recite the prayer that she hasn’t said in months that the thought doesn’t even occur to her. “And – and blessed is the –”
“Ah, a burglar with Catholic guilt,” the devil interrupts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s new.”
“ – fruit of thy –” Chiara’s words sputter to a stop. “Burglar?”
Silence hangs between them, neither of them sure of the other’s meaning.
Chiara’s brain finally clears enough that the words hit her, and she huffs out a sigh. “Jesus Christ. Why does everyone always think I’m the bad guy? My new suit was supposed to fix that –”
“I’m sure the suit is fine,” the devil interrupts. Which, as far as being the King of Hell goes, is a pretty nice thing for him to say to someone who he’s come to collect. “But hanging around on top of rooftops in the middle of the night doesn’t really help your case.”
Lots of things haven’t really helped Chiara’s case. She got kicked out of Catholic school, and rightfully so. Still, she didn’t expect following a lead on Roxxon to be the thing that triggered Satan himself from coming to snatch her right out of the world.
“To be fair,” she says, trying to sound braver than she feels. “You also would have had to be on the rooftop in order to know that.” She gives the devil a onceover and does the thing she’s best at – she makes a sarcastic comment to save face. “Like some sort of overgrown gargoyle.” All the accusations sort of remind her of that play that she’s having to read for English – I saw Goody Proctor with the Devil! But how would Abigail have known that if she hadn’t also been at the Devil’s Sacrament?
To her surprise, he laughs. The fallen angel actually laughs at her joke. “Not everyone is a fan of this getup. But it keeps people intimidated.”
Getup? That almost makes it sound like –
“Huh?”
The devil tilts his head. “My suit. It scares a lot of people. Keeps them in line.”
Chiara gawks at him, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Suit? So you’re . . .” She’s not sure what he is, exactly. “Like me?”
“Enhanced?” the devil clarifies. “I would guess so, based on –” He makes a vague gesture, as if that explains it all. “ – everything.”
Okay. So this is someone like Chiara, running around in a suit trying to stop crime. Not Satan. Good to know. (Although, if she’s being honest, she feels a little goofy now for the way that she freaked out.)
“So who are you, exactly?” the guy in the devil costume asks. “Haven’t noticed you around here before.”
“Eclipse,” Chiara replies smoothly. “I operate over in Queens.”
The devil guy lets out a low whistle. “You’re out of your jurisdiction.”
“Yeah. And I won’t be making that mistake again.” From beneath her domino mask, she raises an eyebrow. With the hood that Mr. Stark has added to her new suit – “To hide that hair, since the purple is going to give you away” – she doubts that the devil guy can see her do it, with her face all cast in shadow. “This is clearly your turf. But who are you?”
“My turf?” The word choice makes a smile tug at the edge of his lips. “Who says that?”
“Me.”
“You’re not from here,” the guy guesses, tilting his head. “You live in Queens but you’re from . . . Somewhere upstate, probably. Near the Canadian border?”
Chiara tilts her own head in question. This guy might not be Satan, but he knows entirely too much about her. “Is your thing mindreading, or something?”
Devil guy chuckles. “No. I’m just observant. And your accent and word choice don’t exactly hide anything.”
Instead of getting offended or confirming the guy’s theory, Chiara repeats her earlier question. “Who are you?”
A pause. For dramatic effect, maybe. And then: “Daredevil.”
“Ah. Well, that explains the costume.” She shrugs. “You’ve got a whole aesthetic going on. I can respect that.”
She kind of expects him to make a comment about her suit, but he doesn’t. And, if she’s being honest, Chiara is a little disappointed by that. She’s only had it for a few days, but it’s a big step up from the homemade one that she was running around in when she started this whole thing.
“Anyways –” Chiara sighs at the same time that Daredevil asks, “What are you doing in Hell’s Kitchen?” Maybe it’s Chiara’s imagination, but it sounds like there’s a hint of a smile in the guy’s voice when he adds, “Since you’re not a burglar, that is.”
Now that it’s clear that Daredevil isn’t the literal devil and that he’s not going to crack open the ground and drag her down to the depths of Hell, Chiara abandons her position on the ground amid the broken glass in order to stand, facing him hero to hero. (Even if she does have to look up at him because he’s taller, but that’s not the point.)
“Following a lead,” she answers. Then, after a pause, “On Roxxon.”
“Roxxon?” Daredevil’s cowl may hide his face, but the eyebrow raise punctuating his question is obvious. “But you’re only . . . What? Thirteen?”
“I’m fifteen.”
Daredevil shakes his head. “Okay, well you’re still young. Which means that you have no business going after Roxxon. It’s too dangerous.”
Chiara scoffs, crossing her arms. “I have all the business going after Roxxon. They’re an environmental threat.”
“How are you going to stop them?”
Great question. One that Chiara would also love the answer to. Unfortunately, she hasn’t exactly figured that part out yet. She just knows that she needs proof that it’s Roxxon that’s causing weird things to happen to the animals living in the back lot of the gas station, and she knows that she needs answers about how they might be behind it.
“Take my advice, kid,” Daredevil says. “Enjoy being a kid. Don’t go getting mixed up in stuff like this that you don’t understand and accidentally end your time early.”
Chaira rolls her eyes. “There won’t be much for me to enjoy if companies like Roxxon poison and destroy the earth before then.”
Or if the people with those glowing weapons that Peter encountered take over the world, or burn it to the ground, she doesn’t add. There are a lot of ways that the world could come crashing down, and those are just the threats of the week.
Daredevil draws in a deep breath before pushing a hard sigh through his nose. He seems like he’s trying to hold back from raising his voice at her, saying something he might regret. Considering that this conversation started with him kicking Chiara through a skylight and scaring the crap out of her, it’s pretty thoughtful of him, all things considered.
“Whoever you were following is now in my territory,” he points out, his voice firm but not angry. “They’re my problem now.”
“But that’s not –”
A red covered hand is held up to stop her. “Leave this to the grownups.” Then, almost as an afterthought he adds, “Because if I hear that you’re back in Hell’s Kitchen chasing down threats you don’t understand, I’ll haul you back to Queens myself.”
Chiara pouts. “You aren’t the boss of me.”
“You’re fifteen,” Daredevil deadpans. Probably because of Chiara’s word choice, which isn’t really helping her case. “You’ve got better things to do. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
“What are you, my guidance counselor?”
“Watch it,” the other hero warns. He plants his hands on his hips, looking like a disappointed father. “I’m trying to help you out, kid. You don’t need to go getting mixed up with Roxxon. Trust me on that one.”
A protest dies on Chiara’s lips. If she keeps arguing, she’ll probably be stuck here all night feeling like she’s talking to a brick wall. She might as well get off the hook while she can, let this guy think he’s won. Besides, if this guy operates in Hell’s Kitchen, he’ll have no clue what Chiara is up to over in Queens. She’ll just have to stay away from his turf, operate on the downlow.
“Fine,” she sighs. “But when bioluminescent raccoons take over the world, don’t come crying to me.”
There’s a slightly baffled pause, like Daredevil is trying to figure out if she’s being serious or not. He must decide that he doesn’t want to follow that line of questioning, because he only nods.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.
“Good.” Chiara sniffs. “Well . . . Bye now.”
Before Daredevil can protest, she sinks into the shadows, disappearing as she takes her leave, trying to flee the scene before she has to deal with any more lectures. As she navigates her way out of Hell’s Kitchen and back towards Queens, she has only one thought on her mind – she won’t be coming back here any time soon. Not if she can help it, anyway.
#me for no reason: WHAT IF I WROTE --#oc chiara st claire#my writing#marvel oc#matt murdock#marvel fic
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Tsunami 9-1-1 fic recs
This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)
You're Gonna Be Okay, Kid by abow123456 - Not Rated
The anniversary of the tsunami brings back memories for Buck, who gets some new ink to commemorate it for all the right reasons. It also leads to some long overdue confessions and closure for a group of survivors.
in the middle of a city with a million strangers by zimnokurw - Not Rated
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Buck’s attention once again goes to the brunet Firefighter who saved Kyle. The man seems pissed and worried. He talks with someone on the phone and tries to keep his voice quiet, but he still managed to yell through the whisper. “¡Por el amor de Dios! My son is out there, somewhere.” he explains through gritted teeth to whoever is on the other side of the phone call. It’s an angry whisper. He runs a hand through his hair, sighing and trying to calm down, before continuing. “And this whole time I thought he was safe.” it’s not really the man’s fault, but Buck can understand his thinking. He gets why the man is so worried, even though he isn’t a father himself, and he unconsciously rubs Chris’ back with his right palm. “I should’ve been looking for him right now.” the Latino raises his voice a bit, most likely not even aware of that, while he emphasizes two last words of his sentence, and his voice wakes Christopher up. or; buck meets a lost boy at the santa monica pier, takes care of him during the tsunami, and then reunites him with his hot-ass latino firefighter dad at the va hospital.
Evan Buckley vs. The Ocean by gardenrose - Not Rated
The day Evan Buckley gets back from deployment, he heads out for a relaxing day at the pier. There, he runs into someone from his past and has to keep both of them and others safe when a devastating tsunami hits. 'He doesn’t waste time, plunging back into the ice cold water and swimming frantically towards where Chris is desperately holding onto a light pole. Buck gets to where he’s about five feet away before he has to stop, the current too strong to keep going. “Let go Chris!” Buck says, and the kid shakes his head frantically. Buck’s heart goes out to him - they’re both fucking terrified and the worst of it isn’t over. “I’ll catch you!” He yells, reaching his arm out to Chris. “Trust me!” Chris squeezes his eyes shut and lets go of the pole.'
Kindness: What Connects Us by FandomLife54 - Rated T
Still off balance, Buck slams his left heel onto the roof, heaving forward to catch the collar of that yellow shirt. And there’s no conscious decision making here. It’s all instinct, and he’s grateful for it. If he’d given his overzealous mind the chance to consider another way, he would have missed his shot. Instead, his arms hurl the boy into the hands of another survivor... And his right foot misses the edge. OR Buck catches Chris before he rolls off the firetruck, and it's him who falls back into the retreating waters of the tsunami. Unconscious and seriously injured, he's unaware that his team has been searching for him, never giving up as the days pass.
come out to the sea, my love by allyasavedtheday - Rated T
“Bobby,” Maddie exclaims. “It’s Buck.” Eddie’s head shoots up, hand immediately going to his own radio. Did something happen? Is it another clot? Did Christopher call 911? Is Buck on the floor bleeding out while his son watches- “He and Christopher were on the pier.” There’s one dizzying moment where Eddie’s vision completely whites out and he loses all control of his limbs but then a strong hand is gripping his arm and he manages to pull himself together enough to focus on Bobby’s face. “Maddie, how do you know that?” Bobby asks and he sounds calm but Eddie can hear the tension hidden in his voice. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. “A girl with a drone called 911- she sent me the footage and-“ Maddie lets out a hitching breath. “They’re stranded on top of the 136’s ladder truck.” * Tsunami au in which the 118 find out about Buck and Chris being stranded on top of the ladder truck and come to rescue them before they get separated.
So he did. by Maximoff_Wanda - Rated G
Eddie looked up at Bobby and saw the same fear Eddie was feeling reflected in his Captain’s eyes. “What did you just say?” Bobby’s normal composure was slipping, not enough that anyone besides Eddie, Hen, or Chim could see it, but Eddie knew that Bobby was just as nervous as Eddie was. The man from before answered. “Yeah, his name was Buck. He said that the two of them were on the pier when the wave first hit. He uh, he had a weird mark above his left eye, a scar or something. He had a pink shirt on and his kid was wearing a yellow striped shirt, I think?” “The son was named Christopher. Buck had me sit with him while he helped people onto the truck.” Forget the truck bombing. This was the most scared Eddie had ever been. Or: what if Eddie found out earlier that Buck and Christopher were on the pier and Buck was able to find Chris after losing him?
Scratch and Burn by JessicaMDawn - Rated T
Christopher scratches Buck during the tsunami, but the rest of the debris hurts a lot more and Buck thinks nothing of it. The next day, however, Buck experiences a lot of changes that he doesn't know how to handle. Luckily, Eddie is there to help him through it.
Lights Will Guide by SadieYuki - Rated T
When caught in a disaster, sometimes even the smallest thing can happen differently and it changes everything. A what-if fic where Buck is able to reach Christopher right after he falls off the ladder truck and they find themselves in a different situation.
Call It What You Will - Fate? Destiny? (A Tsunami) by abow123456 - Rated M
Evan Buckley's day of relaxation is cut short when a tsunami hits the beach he was relaxing at. He has to fight to keep himself and a lost little boy safe from the water, as well as anyone else he finds. After, he meets the boys father and family, and it causes a snowball effect of good things for him, for once.
i feel like i could die and that'd be ok by InsertUserNameHerePlease - Rated T
He woke up drowning. It wasn’t the first time and it’d probably not be the last. The sensation of suspension surrounded by water was as familiar as an old friend. ---- Chris didn't fall into the water on the day of the Tsunami but Buck did.
Going Under, But I'm Not Giving Up by Signsofsam - Rated G
Buck is about to answer, about to tell Chris that he intends to always come back, but something in the distance, at the end of the pier, catches his eye.
There’s a wall of water heading their way.
This was supposed to be a nice day.
All Buck wanted was a nice day out with Chris. All he wants now is to get them back to Eddie.
Kindness: What Connects Us by FandomLife54 - Rated T
Still off balance, Buck slams his left heel onto the roof, heaving forward to catch the collar of that yellow shirt. And there’s no conscious decision making here. It’s all instinct, and he’s grateful for it. If he’d given his overzealous mind the chance to consider another way, he would have missed his shot. Instead, his arms hurl the boy into the hands of another survivor... And his right foot misses the edge. OR Buck catches Chris before he rolls off the firetruck, and it's him who falls back into the retreating waters of the tsunami. Unconscious and seriously injured, he's unaware that his team has been searching for him, never giving up as the days pass.
the mortifying ordeal of being known by Polish_Amber - Rated G
The thing was, the 118 was full of gossips.
Eddie had been at the station less than a week before Hen and Chim wrangled details about his “hot young thing” from him (“Buck is only 4 years younger than me, he is not a ‘hot young thing’!” Eddie complained.)
And Bobby was open about his worries for his son’s lack of direction and the secrets he appears to be keeping (“I just wish I could help Evan find the thing that gives him purpose,” Bobby lamented.)
It just made it all the more ridiculous (and horrifying) when Eddie realizes he’s been dating his Captain’s son this whole time (“Defiling his baby,” Chimney cackled, because he clearly wanted Eddie murdered.)
Or, the AU where miscommunication abounds as Eddie seeks advice about his new relationship, Bobby despairs over his adopted son's career prospects and his refusal to talk about it, and Evan Buckley-Nash juggles training at the fire academy, building a family with his new boyfriend, and trying to work out how to tell his overprotective dad that he's already chosen the life he wants, actually.
It takes a goddamn tsunami, of all things, to get the story straight.
#veryace recs#9 1 1 fic#9 1 1 fandom#eddie diaz#even buck buckley#even buckley#118 firefam#christopher diaz#ao3 fic recs#fanfic recs#ao3#9-1-1 tsunami
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TTNBD BLOG PART FIVE
Covers chapters five and six of Though the Night Be Dark
These two chapters were originally supposed to be one, but I split them so I could keep the posting going faster and because the scenes shook out into two neater separate sections. But I’m doing the commentary together because my brain still has them linked.
CHAPTER FIVE: HOMECOMING
Back at it again with the Abberline POV. I started using his perspective for situational observations in TTEOE and got a little addicted to it tbh… I love a good outsider POV. Something about a character who has no idea the true gravity of the situation seeing bits and pieces of the main character’s story- delicious.
Nice day for a funeral. I’ve actually never been to a funeral in the wintertime, but Abberline’s observations about death seeming more natural during the colder months are in line with my own thoughts. When the earth is slumbering, and the trees are feigning death until spring, death itself seems less absurd, if not any less saddening.
I had a ball writing Francis Midford in this scene. As we know, she’s usually very calm, bordering on cold- a level-headed somewhat stern woman who isn’t at all prone to wild displays of emotion. However, all bets are off when one has lost a child. They say it’s the worst kind of grief a person can experience. I think that warrants an outburst or two.
Of course, it’s not Abberline’s fault, what happened to Edward- and Francis knows that too- but anger is natural, of course, and I just like a good shocking slap across the face moment. Too bad it was at Abberline’s expense. He blames himself, even though he shouldn’t, and Francis’s whole freak-out certainly hasn’t helped. Thankfully, Lizzy is much more reasonable. Probably because she knows a little bit more about the situation than her mother does, though she’s not ready to share that information with anyone just yet- except maybe Sybil.
Poor Abberline will have to remain in the dark for a little while longer, it seems.
Back to the boys- coming ‘home’. It’s not really home anymore. I don’t think Ciel ever had a home, at least not one that was a place. He thinks it himself- that Sebastian is more of a home to him than anyone or anywhere or anything else. They’re two halves of a whole.
Sebastian reverting back to butler mode and taking care of everything when he can sense that Ciel is uncomfortable or overwhelmed has been checked off the sebaciel bingo- I have a running mental list of tropes and lines that I want to write for them, and this was one of them.
I’ve read some really great fics where their dynamic is so much more hostile and yet equally as romantic- I might try my hand at it some day. I know the way I write Sebastian and Ciel may seem out of character to some, but I really can’t stop, and I won’t apologise for it! I trust my gut and if I can hear the words in the character’s voice, I’ll write them. I can’t resist the idea that Sebastian is only really capable of genuine love and tenderness when it comes to Ciel and no one else 🥹
Time for my favourite scene in this chapter! It’s Benjamin the paper boy! Have you ever seen Newsies? The Disney musical about newsboys in 1890’s New York? You should, it’s a cute little story about kids unionizing to fight the corporate man and get better pay for their work *insert long rambling talk about socialism and how I love it so much*. ANYWAY, I needed a minor character for plot reasons, and a newsboy seemed like a perfect fit. And it gave me an excuse to write Sebastian and Ciel interacting with a kid, which I love, for some reason.
(source)
I had to learn about how money worked in Victorian England. Well, I didn’t have to, I could have just bullshitted the few lines about them bribing the kid, but I wanted to have a tangible sense of how much money was actually worth and how the pound breaks down into shillings, sovereigns and guineas etc. I hope all the values work out and make sense because Holy Shit is this the most insane way to break down money. It hurt my head just thinking about it. Not to sound American (I’m not even American) but I’ll stick the good old 21st century 100 cent dollar, thank you very much 🤣
More cutesy stuff in the hotel- I’m writing this in April, four months after the chapter was written, and reading it back for the first time in quite a while is fun. I was giggling at my own writing lol. I love these two so much. It’s a problem.
Poor Lizzy!!! Thinking Ciel died for nothing when he didn’t actually die at all. Imagine basing your entire grieving process on a lie. Oof. It’s gonna be one Hell of a shock for her when she finds out she’s spent the last four years operating on false assumptions.
Thankfully, she has Sybil, who has some secrets and false assumptions of her own.
And last but not least, the meeting of the Evil Dudes. These scenes are so hard to write because I don’t want to describe characters too vividly or put names to any of them, it’s like building a model plane or something, you have to be very intentional and delicate about what pieces (words) you use and where you put them. All of writing is like that, to an extent, except for those moments when it flows super smoothly, but even then you have to be deliberate with your editing. Writing is hard work! I love it so much, though.
CHAPTER SIX: DESPERATE TIMES
Let’s talk briefly about Frederick Abberline!
A portrait of Frederick Abberline, 1885. (Wikipedia)
Fredderick Abberline, as you may or may not have known, was a real historical figure! He was born in 1843, which would make him about fifty-seven at the time of TTNBD. That’s not how I picture him at all, of course, because in the Kuroshitsuji anime he’s depicted as a much younger man than he would have been at the time, as he often is in film and television shows.
I choose to keep a slightly aged version of the anime Abberline in mind when writing, but I like to think of him as having some variation of the facial hair that he does in the picture above- such an undeniably Victorian mustache. And I think with his promotion he wouldn’t want people to think of him as being so young, and he has such a little boy face without it 😌😆
Abberline is of course most famous for his work as the lead detective on the Jack the Ripper case, which is why he’s usually featured as a character in television shows/movies about the Ripper. Though the Ripper was never caught, Abberline was known to have many theories in his time on the case, including the idea that the killer might actually be a woman. *side-eyes Madame Red* 👀
The real Fredderick Abberline was married twice in his lifetime- he married his first wife, Martha Mackness, in March of 1868, though she died of tuberculosis two months after the wedding. Then, in 1876, he married Emma Beament. They were married for over fifty years until his death in 1929 at age 86. Emma died three months after he did, and was buried with him at Wimborne Road Cemetery, in Bournemouth, England. They never had any children.
His grave is marked by a headstone erected in 2007, and I think it’d be neat to visit his grave some day, if I ever get the chance to go to the United Kingdom (it’s at the top of my list of places I want to go).
I’ve referenced Abberline’s personal life a couple of times- he mentioned Emma in his diary entry back in chapter one, and it’s walked about how he likes to spend mornings with her on the weekend. Obviously, not much is known about the details of the real man’s personal relationships, but I like to think he and his wife loved each other very much, because there’s no evidence to the contrary and it hurts no one for me to believe that. Abberline works hard and he’s a good guy, he deserves happiness.
Quite rude, then, for someone to make him get up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday to solve a murder. Even worse, Alois and Claude are here! So we get some more wonderful outsider observations from Abberline, and he of course can’t help but compare their dynamic to Ciel and Sebastian’s, which means I get to vicariously get to wax poetic about my thoughts on the matter.
Meanwhile, Sebastian and Ciel are perched on a rooftop, quite literally eavesdropping. Imagine their surprise when a young lord shows up- with his demon butler in tow.
Ciel: That bitch stole our look!
Sebastian: We wore it better.
😂😆
Unfortunately, Ciel decided he was going to follow Claude and Alois around- but he isn’t as good at staying hidden as Sebastian is- he doesn’t have the experience, and I personally think he doesn’t have the same affinity with the shadows that Sebastian does- so Claude catches his scent rather quickly.
And Claude is a thirsty hoe. It makes my skin crawl, writing the things he thinks about Ciel. But that will make his inevitable demise all the more satisfying, I hope. I took his obsession with Ciel straight from the anime and just cranked it up to ten. I don’t know if everyone reading this story has seen season two- I know a lot of people don’t like the liberties it took with canon. Alois and Claude are characters completely made for the anime, and I think that makes them perfect to muck around with. There’s so much less established canon for them, I can just chop and screw and remix it however I want. It’s a fic writer’s dream.
After finishing To the End of Everything, and describing Ciel’s grave, I realised that as a member of the nobility, it’s more likely he would have been buried in a mausoleum, a stone building with niches in the walls for the caskets of the dead, where members of one family are interred. But I had the idea for Ciel’s tombstone and the engraving on it from the time I first decided to write TTEOE, so I wouldn’t change it even if I could.
And maybe an in-universe reason for it was that Ciel had decided to do things differently, maybe putting in his will for him to be buried like that was a final act of rebellion. And in the end, there was no body there anyway. Humans and they death rituals, putting markers on empty graves. I find it fascinating.
Changing topics: one thing that I hade to get used to was Sebastian calling Ciel by his first name. you’ll notice he doesn’t do it super often. He can’t call Ciel my lord or sir anymore. I mean he could, but that would be worse in my mind. He’s not really Ciel’s servant anymore. But I have Sebastian use Ciel’s name sparingly. Partially because it still feels a little weird and because I find it WAY more likely that Sebastian would be hitting Ciel with the terms of endearment, which you’ll notice I have him to constantly. A: because he loves Ciel and is stupid about it and B: because even though Ciel is used to it, and even likes it, it probably does still annoy him Just A Little, and that’s also too tempting for Sebastian to pass up.
Sebastian is no stranger to committing crimes in service of Ciel’s investigations- now he’s going around stealing records from the government, which is probably the least of his illegal actions. The Public Record Office is a real place, and in 1900 it was indeed located in Chancery Lane, in London. It was established in 1838 to house and catalogue all kinds of court/government archives, documents, things like that. I don’t think it had any archive specifically for newspapers, but let’s just all collectively pretend it did.
“I can’t believe I married a criminal” will forever be one of my favourite lines to ever have written. Ciel’s romantic side is very suppressed, but it’s there, so the times when I get to make him verbally reference Sebastian as his lover, husband, mate- those are particularly sweet to me. Even if he does immediately follow up by calling Sebastian a dog and a scoundrel, which, to be fair, are also accurate things to call him.
Writing a sex scene is the most intensive part of the craft for me. The thing I spoke about earlier, about being surgical and methodical in word choice and grammar- that’s dialled up to eleven when I’m writing a sex scene. So sometimes I fade to black. Although, that can be nice too- leaving things to the imagination. Also, it means I have the option to come back some day and write them out huehuehue 😏😌😉
I have never attended a séance. I was raised in a rather conservative Christian household (and look at me now) and I was always taught never to mess with that stuff, that it might invite evil into one’s life. Due to personal experiences among other things, I still have a belief in the spiritual aspect of existence- maybe not demons and ghosts per se (though I do have stories of ghost encounters in my past), but that there is such a thing as the soul, and life beyond death, and forces beyond what we humans can fully comprehend or control.
Though I’ve left behind almost all the beliefs I was raised with, at least one remains: I don’t fuck with séances or Ouija boards or anything that could accidentally bring something bad into my space. You would never catch me in a horror movie scenario, is what I’m saying 😆
However, the realm of fiction is fair game. Especially for the sake of the narrative.
Séances in film always seem to be done slightly differently- usually there’s a table, and a candle or something- I kind of just set up my own scenario.
Someone asked me why Lizzy and Sybil didn’t just try to summon Edward’s spirit right away- to be completely honest, it’s mostly because it didn’t occur to me 😅. But I also think that Lizzy wasn’t ready to confront whatever truths he might have to tell her- or that the grief was still so fresh, she wouldn’t have been able to bear seeing him- or not seeing him, if it hadn’t have worked for whatever reason.
Instead, I chose to tug on a different heartstring entirely and chose to have them summon Tanaka. Tanaka is beyond old, and I think after Ciel died and the manor burnt down, he finally allowed himself to put down the burden of being a steward to the house of Phantomhive. He deserved a rest. I think his death would have been painless- he probably went in his sleep. The Midfords would have taken good care of him.
And of course, he would be against what Lizzy is doing. Not angry with her, but worried- he would want her to move on, to put everything behind her and live a normal, happy life. But she doesn’t really have a choice at this juncture- desperate times and desperate measures and all that. I knew from the beginning that Tanaka wasn’t going to be alive in this story, but I still wanted to give him a cameo, however bittersweet it may have been.
I do hope the séance scene was sufficiently eerie- I don’t really write horror, or anything that’s meant to be all that scary, but I did try to give this scene a little bit of a spook factor. One of the ways I try to do that is by limiting descriptions of things until the moment after they happen, and
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As a way to control the pace and rhythm of the scene. Prose is like a rollercoaster, or a run on a treadmill. You must have moments when your heart rate spikes and in between periods to cool off. I try to do that- I’m not sure how well I always achieve it, but that’s the idea.
One of my favourite things I like reading in readers’ comments are the reactions to the revelation of new information, i.e. that Sybil’s mother was a witch. The burden of being the writer is knowing things ahead of time, and not getting to discover them at the same moment your audience does. Coming up with the idea and executing it is its own reward, but sometimes I wish I could read my own writing like it was something I’d never seen before. That would be so cool. So know that as a reader, the best thing you can do is comment your reactions on stuff because it’s the closest that authors can come to that feeling!
Lizzy and Sybil trying to summon Ciel and not being able to because he isn’t dead was another idea I had right from the inception of this story. Since Ciel is a demon, however, and is therefore connected somehow to hell, or the afterlife, or the supernatural world in general, I imagine the séance would have some sort of pull on him, which is why the interjection of him waking up in bed feeling like someone was calling his name.
Lizzy and Sybil complete each other- they have the idea of summoning Sebastian at the same moment, and even if they hadn’t, one of them will always end up enabling the other. Heaven help anyone who gets in their way, they just won’t be stopped 😆 😆 Even if it does eventually get them in over their heads. But that’s another chapter for another blog.
See you next time!
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Scarf 8/4/17
(This recording is when I was woken up in the middle of the night. I would start having pains or the feeling of someone having sex with me, which was as weird and invasive as it sounds. It also happened to Steel.
(Throughout this you can hear the jangles of keys tied to a scarf as responses, though mostly I would see the words she was saying in my head, or pictures. I had been receiving transmissions like this for 11 months. I had also thrown absolutely everything out of my apartment that could be used as a swinging thing for psychic communication: necklaces, pendulums, belly dancing belts, and rosaries, which is why I tied keys onto a scarf.)
Feel the roots, feel the breath, hear the still small voice of the spirit and all will be as it should be. Feel the roots, field breath, here they still small voice of the spirit and I will be as it should be. Feel the roots, feel the breath, hear a still small voice of the spirit and all will be as it should be. (This is a prayer against evil that is considered ultimately protective that a theologian taught me. I always said it before calling in any of the three witches to speak with psychically.)
Blondrichclosetwitch.
Blondrichclosetwitch. Blondrichclosetwitch.
I told you I wasn’t doing this anymore. It’s four in the morning. It’s 410, it’s 4:12. You are like in my stomach. What? What? What? What do you want? You’ve got to stop. Blond. I told you yesterday listen to me. I’m not joking around. Blond.
Blond I wasn’t kidding.. I’m not kidding about us being done. Do you understand? I can’t do this. I can’t do this. You need… You need to leave me alone. I’ll go back to the Bulgarian and she’ll get you back out.
But you can’t Be invading my space. This is fucked up. I don’t know exactly what you did,…..
What?
You need to undo whatever you did, Blond. Did you do that thing to my body that made my hips… And my lower back?
You did? Are you doing the thing to my body right now?
Blond you can’t be waking me up in the middle of the night! You can’t.
(A light flickers.)
Did you make that lightbulb just do that? You did. Do something else. (Challenging her angrily) do something else. Do something else!
See you’re not that impressive.
I don’t know what you think it’s gonna happen here. We’re still done. And I’m still getting you out, and once you’re out, you’re out. do you understand? So you should stop. And go peacefully.
Or this can get ugly, do you want this to get ugly?
(A long pause)
Like I said, you’ve had sex with me for the last time. We’re done. Go use Lauren for that or whomever. I don’t care. The amount of fucked up shit that you did…
(Upset) The stories you put in my head about Stella being tortured? About her pulling the miscarriage out of you? About feeding her? About her being scared on Halloween cause she didn’t have a costume?
When I show that to the public, do you know what they’re gonna think of you?
Do you know how much I hate you right now? Do you know how much I hate you? With every bone. With my heart and my soul.
I don’t care how much I loved you back then, I don’t care how much I tried to save you every single time in this last year.
Right now listening to all of the shit you put me through… All the fucked up shit… Because you were angry about something that happened to us in the past.
That you don’t have the courage to just talk to me about like normal people do.
And the shit you told me as the Tarot Reader about you being 10 years old, and being able to see the future since you were 12?
That was you. But instead you’ve been taking it out on me my whole life, is that accurate? Is that accurate Blond?
Is my life a mess because you’ve been doing the stuff that you said that the Tarot Reader did… Did you do those spells Blond? Yes?
And the reason that I’m talking through keys on a scarf right now is because you don’t have the nerve to face me, you think you’re just gonna keep punishing me? This doesn’t go on. This doesn’t go on.
You need to get some balls, girl. You should’ve learned something from me by now. Can you die, blonde? Cause you know what? I can’t.
That one and that one won’t let me die.
That’s why I’m here right?
And you were who in the past? Were you the devil or were you Judas? You were Judas? You were the one who betrayed… Judas’ Kiss.
You kissed Jesus and that’s how they took him away. Were you also Delilah?
And so you betrayed Samson and cut off all his hair.
I’m going to remind you of this one more time. (She starts to read an old version of psalm 91. )
At least you gave me back God.
You are not welcome, Blond. I forbid you I forbid you and any demonic presence from (pats her upper body) my body, and this house. Do you understand me? You are forbidden. this is a house of angels. You are darkness, Blond. and until you go to God, do you understand me? Until you go to God, you are not welcome. You are not welcome in my energy field, you are not welcome in my auric field, you are not welcome in any of my fields.
You are forbidden from my mind, my body, and my soul I am protected. And whatever little bit of your damage that you managed to momentarily put on me, and me, whatever, take with you. Take it, and leave me alone. Whatever you want to do to yourself, do to yourself, Blond. But I said it to you before and I’ll say it to you again: I am not yours. I am not yours. and if I have to do whatever I have to do, I will.
Do not come back, do not wake me up again do not come into my mind, my dreams again. My hands, my legs. Nothing. Nothing Blond.
And stop fucking with my work.
Cause you’ve caused a fuck load of trouble girl and you’re about to get it.
Now it is time for you to go. Goodbye.
(We hear jingles. She takes apart the keys from the scarf vehemently. )
(End tape)
Anger 8/4/17
That was why…We couldn’t be together. Because it hinged on your mental health. Because it was so touch and go, and he wouldn’t dare. It was so dependent, you were so dependent on him. And he wouldn’t do anything to endanger it. He was so careful with you, and you know it. You know he was. And so he jumped whenever… He wouldn’t do anything wrong. And we suffered. I suffered. I didn’t get anything. And you know it. I never got him to spend the night with me in five years. So what’s this… it just got worse. You knew that the whole time, you knew what this really was about… It wasn’t so much that you were like this bipolar depressive, it was that I was… The love of your life. From a different lifetime. (Sadly laughs)
how the fuck do you pull off something this calculated? And fool someone like Jakk?
How does he not know this? How do you live such a double life Blond? Oh right you’ve been doing this the whole time, like, you were having affairs while you were living with him anyway, and lying to his face. Dude, it’s fucking time to come clean. Five years of this shit……..five years.
And you think I would have anything, anything to do with you? Really? Why? Because you were able to fool me? Because you’re good at fucking me? Who the fuck cares. Do you know what? That means nothing in comparison to honesty and compassion. And real love. I think that you are… I want you gone. The only thing I want for you… I want you gone. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. You ruined my life. I don’t want to have these stupid conversations with you anymore, I want you gone.
(End tape)
Are you a spirit? 8/6/17
(My body is a cage by arcade fire starts to play. She laughs. )
//(insinuates the jingling)
(Sighs)
Okay. who isthis?
Is this a spirit?
It’s a spirit.
//
It’s a spirit. //
Are you a New spirit? Are you an old spirit?
//
You’re an old spirit. How long have you been with me. You’re an old spirit.
//are you.../ do you pretend to be people?///
Is this Blondrichclosetwitch? Is this Blondrichclosetwitch?
were you going to try and trick me and get me to think that this was a spirit? /
yeah we’ve been through this a little too much to like (sighs) you and i have been going at this too long for this tohave this just be a spirit.
I mean i respect steel, i do. And i do agree that ;like at some times spirits do do things but the bulgarian knew what she was talking about. /
I’m not doing this with you.
i’m getting out of this. I’m going to let the world know what you’ve done.
It’s going to be ugly. When the world hears those tapes, blond, and you know i will..have fun masturbating to that ok? your memories of me. ///////
( mocking her) Aw…….oh are you doing it right now? Are you? Did i get you a little excited? //yeah?
/ did i?
Oh plus i’m Wearing this shirt/ it always did do it for you didn’t it.
I know it’s rough.
Plus there’s a little bit of light. (evenflow)
so have a nice night. You didn’t tell me what i needed to know. Anything else?
hmm? That’s not for YOU. not for you.
Sorry. Sorry. Mm mm. Mmm mmm. Oh. this?
Oh i couldn’t. /
sorry. No youve been a very bad girl. You’ve been a very bad girl, Blond.
*Very very* bad girl, Blond.
Very very bad.
See i cut my bangs.
Time for you to go. You’re giving me a headache. And no i’m not having sex with you.
(End tape.)
Baby, hold up, I can kill your migraine
Look at my finger: that is a glacier, hits like a laser...
Takin' trips with all them ki's, car keys got B's (Uh)
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-Come with me-
A fic within the AU of Into the Pit, the worldly place where you cannot tell which part of yourself is real, and which is from the other side. The other side within that one place, The ball pit. You had felt something drag you here, but who?
It’s been at least 3-4 weeks since you started working as a night guard or daycare worker 2.0 at Fazbear’s Pizzaplex. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Just kids sliding down or climbing out the slide to the daycare, Karens yelling at you for dumb reasons, Boss not paying you, All the usual.
It wasn’t weird that you heard random kids screaming in the middle of the night. That’s usually caused by the moon day care attendant or just some nightmares.
..Until today, Something went wrong.
You’ve been chilling, chatting with your best bud, Jeremy F, during break time. You’ve been laughing until you hear a worried voice call out to the two. It looked like a 20-30-year-old lady, almost horridly worried about something.
“Please help me, I can’t find my baby girl!” The mother cried out towards you two. You’ve already head counted every kid before parents came so her daughter shouldn’t be that hard of a find. “We’ll find her, where did you last see her?” You spoke to the mother, with jeremy having a confused yet worried look on his face.
“I saw her last when she slid down into the ball pit! I never saw her come out there ever since! It’s been 3 hours & I think she disappeared within that ball pit!” The mother responded, pointing towards the daycare’s Ball pit. You almost wanted to laugh your ass off. Was she high or drunk? Jeremy walked past you & patted the mothers shoulder. “We’ll be able to find you, I reassure you.”
While you & jeremy finally leave the mother to go check the ball pit, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Jeremy elbowed your side, glaring at you, “Dude, you can stop laughing now. We gotta find the girl” “Oh cmon, Jeremy. How can someone disappear in a ball pit that can go as high as below my knees? It sounds like somekind of fanasty shit. How could you believe her?” You responded, before stepping into the ballpit.
Jeremy & you walked around the ball pit, searching for the kid which felt like a whole year. You looked a jeremy, sighing, “I don’t think she’s here, Jere-”. Before you could finish your sentence, you felt like you were being dragged into the ball pit, falling deeply into the void of the pit. “-MY!”
Jeremy flinched, turning around to go find you, but the only thing he found, was the sunglasses that he’s given you. .
“Y/N?- . . .Y/N!?”
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Uncle Eddie {S.H.}
✰ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Steve being needlessly hostile towards Eddie for some reason
✰ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Steve Harrington x adopted Munson!fem!reader
✰ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1307 words
✰ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve gets nervous on date night since Uncle Eddie is watching his kids. In short, Steve needs to smoke some weed.
Steve had finished getting ready for your night tonight and was playing with his daughter until Eddie got there.
“Daddy?” You little girl asked in the sweetest little voice that always makes Steve want to do anything for her.
Steve stopped what he was doing and looked at the six year old. “Yes princess? Need anything?”
The little girl shook her head and put her hand on Steve’s. “Can we go to Uncle Eddie’s? I don’t think he’ll have fun here.” She said. “I have a bag packed already!”
It didn't take long before Steve was in your bathroom and he had his arms wrapped around you as you put earrings in.
“Hey Steve, You excited?” You asked as he buried his face in your neck.
He stayed quiet for a bit before answering quietly. “Talie-”
You groaned at that. “Steve. You need to stop spoiling her.”
He got off of you and looked slightly offended. “You’re one to talk! You do the same for Theo.”
“Theo is a growing boy and I’m working on not spoiling him. He turns ten this summer, I’m trying,” You responded quickly.
“Talie wants to go to Eddie’s,” He informed, hoping you’d say yet for Natalia’s sake.
You rolled your eyes. “Okay, only if you’re fine with it.”
He smiled widely and ran out. You could hear him yelling for your son to get a bag to take to Eddie’s. You shook your head and smiled to yourself, finally finished getting ready.
. . .
Your kids were excitedly chattering to each other in the back seat the whole drive to Eddie’s. Steve kept smiling at you and, as he pulled up to Eddie’s, realized what he had done for his daughter.
You saw his smile fading and squeezed his arm. “It’s okay Steve,” You told him.
He nodded and stopped the car. “Okay kids. Out.” He told them.
The two kids got out excitedly with their back packs on their backs, full of things to do.
You knocked on the door and waited for Eddie to answer.
“Kids, you know the drill.”
They nodded. “No screaming, running, fighting, or touching things that aren’t ours at Uncle Eddie’s,” They recited.
Steve smiled. “Close enough. The end should be ‘anywhere’ but it’s fine.”
Eddie answered with the biggest smile. “My family! My favorite niece and nephew are here!” He greeted happily.
Theo frowned at the statement. “We’re your only niece and nephew.”
“Which is why you’re my favorite. I’m happy to have you kids here,” Eddie told Theo, ruffling his hair.
The kids went into Eddie’s place and immediately sat on the couch excitedly. Eddie was about to go with them when Steve stopped him.
“Okay, Eddie, before we go. Talie and Theo go to bed at 8 every night and no later. Theo is very friendly but Talie loves being left alone. Also they both-” Steve spouted off nervously before being cut off by Eddie.
“Steve. I got this. I’ve watched kids before.” He reminded Steve. “Hang out with your wife and be grateful that she married you. I wish that my sister had higher standards but we can’t all get what we want,” He teased.
Steve was not amused.
“Ha ha. Fucking hilarious.” He grumbled, crossing his arms.
“Talie and Theo love their Uncle Eddie,” He said happily.
Steve glared at Eddie at that.
“Relax Steve. Eddie’s grown up a lot since high school.” You assured your husband. “Don’t worry.”
Eddie pointed and nodded at you. “Yeah Steve. Relax. I have we... medicine in my room if you need it.” He corrected since he knew the kids were in the background.
“No.” Steve responded flatly. “And Eddie?” He asked, before turning around.
“Hm?”
“Don’t kill my kids,” Steve told him.
Eddie opened his mouth in fake shock. “But that’s the best part!”
It was your turn to glare at your brother for that one. “Try again.”
“I mean...” Eddie started slowly. “I won’t sacrifice your kids to the metal gods.”
You chuckled and shook your head before giving him a hug. “Love you bro. I know you’re gonna be fine,” You complimented.
. . .
You and Steve parked in a random spot on the beach, opened his trunk, and stared at the sunset while you ate. It was beautiful.
Until Steve started getting nervous again.
“Do you have any quarters?” He asked in the middle of your conversation. “We should call Eddie and there’s a phone over there.”
You stared in shock for a few moments before reacting. “Steve!”
“What?” He asked, genuinely confused as to why you’re upset.
You put your stuff down and started picking at your nails. “This is the first night we've had to ourselves in months. Are you going to spend it worrying?” You asked, looking up at your husband. “Remember what happened last time you worried?”
“That was not my fault!” He defended quickly.
“I would say it is! My eyebrows got burned off,” You reminded Steve.
“That was one time!” He responded incredulously.
“Here, here. Let’s calm down.” You said calmly. “Deep breaths. It’s date night.” You said, rubbing his arm.
Steve relaxed and started rubbing the carpet of the trunk. “Yeah. Date night. We’re at the beach. All is-” Steve cut himself off. “Found a quarter!” He exclaimed, holding it up triumphantly.
You watched as he walked to the nearest payphone, getting up to catch up to him. “Do you not trust my brother?” You asked.
“Can’t hear you, too far away.” He yelled, punching in Eddie’s number.
“Steven Harrington!” You yelled back. “Get back over here!”
Steve hung up the phone and he looked a little scared. He put the phone back and started walking back to you. “Eddie didn’t answer. We need to go home.”
“Steve...” You groaned as he grabbed you hand and practically ran to the car.
. . .
Meanwhile Eddie was sitting on the ground in front of his couch with Theo next to him, learning how to play the guitar, and Talie doing his hair behind him, humming along to Part of Your World.
“Yeah Theo, you got it,” Eddie encouraged.
Theo looked up at Eddie, clearly proud of himself. “Really?”
Eddie nodded. “Yeah, here. You just need’a... that’a kid! You got it!” He said happily after he readjusted Theo’s fingers on the neck.
Theo made the same expression Eddie made just moments ago. “Thanks Uncle Eddie.”
“No prob-” Eddie was cut off by a hard yank on his hair from his niece. “Talie, darling, dear, beloved... You’re pulling my hair,” He informed her calmly.
Talie took the comb out and pet his head. “Sorry. Your hair is just so tangly.”
Eddie turned around and gave her a soft look. “It’s okay, just-” Eddie cut himself off with a groan when Steve entered the house in a panic.
“Where are my kids Munson? Are they hurt?” He asked, calming down a little when he saw Theo and Talie sitting down with him just fine.
Eddie just glared at Steve as you walked up behind him sheepishly. “What are you talking about? They’re fine, as you can see.” He said, gesturing to the two kids.
“The phone.” Steve tried. “You didn’t answer.”
Eddie shrugged. “Talie’s doing my hair. It would’ve been rude to move.” The six year old only nodded in response, she didn’t want her favorite person in the whole world to get in trouble.
“What can I say Steve. The kids love their Uncle Eddie.” You told him, motioning for the kids to get their things.
Theo hopped up happily. “Yeah! I got a tattoo!” He told you and Steve excitedly, showing you two the bats on his forearm that Eddie drew with sharpie.
“You what?” Steve asked, trying to keep his cool in front of his kid.
“Theo!” Eddie exclaimed. “Kids say the darnedest things,” He laughed nervously.
“Munson!”
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