#it was such a good and fun show but this piece took me too long

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Obligatory ONE TIME fanart for a show I watched to take a break from rewatching Gravity Falls 🙏

[meazalykov]

world champions

salma paralluelo x orienteer!reader (requested)

part two to this fic

summary: you're a world champion, and so is she.

authors note: sorry this request took so long 🥲 had to reorganize the request list so I prioritized older ones first, which is this one so here you gooo!

you stand at the start line, surrounded by the dense wilderness of norway, breathing in the crisp scent of pine. 

this is it—the orienteering world championship. every race, every map, every training run leads to here. nerves flutter in your stomach, but they feel good, grounding. your hands grip the compass and map, senses on high alert as you glance over the first checkpoint route. 

this is more than a test of physical stamina; it’s mental, too, a challenge that requires sharp wits, intuition, and endless focus.

though, there’s salma. 

a little smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you remember her words from that morning. 

“you’re gonna be incredible, baby. like, imagine yourself when you’ll be referred to as y/n l/n, world champion” she’d said, her voice low, serious.

“i mean, you’re always incredible to me. today, everyone else gets to see it too.” she'd tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, eyes soft, proud. 

it was that look of hers—the one that always felt like a warm embrace, like a promise that she was with you. 

now, the whistle blows, and all thoughts of salma, of anything beyond the trees and hills ahead, fade into focus. you spring forward, your legs carrying you over uneven ground, every step quick and precise as you weave through branches and brush, feet barely touching the earth. 

you keep one eye on your map, following each contour line as it rises and falls, marking ridges, streams, hidden dips in the land that only you know how to navigate as your brown colored shoes hit the ground. 

each checkpoint passes, one after another, with your muscles beginning to burn in that familiar, almost comforting way. you’re lost to the rhythm of it: breath in, leap over that log, breath out, slide down the slope, watch the compass, navigate the next turn.

 

time blurs as you move, every sense trained on the land, on the feeling of the map in your hand, the forest air cooling the sweat on your face. 

finally, you reach the last checkpoint, heart pounding as you sprint toward the finish line. faint cheers grow louder as you near the clearing, the crowd growing closer, shapes blending into faces. 

among them, you see her. salma. her gaze locks on you, her expression an echo of every race you’ve run, every late-night training session and early-morning start. you see the pride there, fierce and beautiful, and a surge of energy courses through you, carrying you those final meters across the line.

the crowd erupts, applause filling the air, and you pause, taking a moment to catch your breath, the reality of the win settling in. you’ve done it. 

you’re the world champion. 

salma is beaming, her eyes bright and just a little teary as she pushes through the crowd to reach you. the two of you meet in the middle, and she throws her arms around you, pulling you close. 

“i knew you’d do it,” she whispers, her voice thick with pride.

 

“you’re amazing, mi amor.”

you laugh, the sound breathless and joyous. 

“i... i still can’t believe it,” you admit, pulling back just enough to see her face. 

“i couldn’t have done this without you, you know?”

“don’t give me too much credit. this was all you,” she says, grinning. 

though, there’s a sadness in her eyes, a reminder of the goodbyes yet to come. she squeezes your hand, and you know what’s coming next.

“you’re leaving soon,” you say quietly, trying to keep your voice steady.

she nods, glancing at her watch with a resigned sigh. 

“i’ve got to get to the airport in an hour,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb gently over your hand. 

“australia está esperando.”

you bite back the ache in your chest, managing a small smile. 

“have fun at the world cup– show the world what you’re made of.”

salma chuckles softly, the sound both warm and a little bittersweet. 

“don’t worry. i’ll bring everything i’ve got.” she leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“text me as soon as you’re done here. i want to know everything, okay?”

“of course,” you say, savoring the feel of her, of this moment, one last time. 

“and, salma?” you meet her eyes, hoping she sees just how much you mean it. 

“you’re gonna be incredible, too.”

the press events and post-race interviews stretch on for hours, but finally, you’re alone. as soon as you’re free, you pull out your phone, firing off a message to salma: 

i did it!!

moments later, her reply pings back. 

like i said earlier, i am so proud, my love!!! you fucking did it!!!

it’s like she’s here with you, her pride and excitement wrapped around you, making you feel like the win is just a little sweeter.

a week passes by, filled with interviews, team meetings, and that inevitable lull after the high of victory. you keep up with salma through video calls, her face lit up on your screen every night as she talks about the intensity of training, the pressure of the world cup building around her. 

you hear the exhaustion in her voice sometimes, see the strain in her shoulders, but her smile is always there, unbreakable. she tells you stories about her teammates, about the way the stadium feels during practice because of the australian winter.

when spain reaches the quarterfinals, you know. you have to be there, to support her in the same way she’s always supported you.

after booking the ticket, you keep your plans a secret, not wanting to distract her. you arrive in australia just in time for the match against the netherlands, slipping into the stands, heart racing with anticipation as you wait for her to take the field. 

when the game starts, you can barely sit still, every pass, every tackle making your pulse race. then, as the ball lands at her feet, she’s off, a blur of determination and skill, weaving through defenders with that same focus you’d seen in yourself on that championship course.

she scores, and the stadium erupts, but nothing compares to the pride filling you as you leap to your feet, cheering at the top of your lungs, lost in the moment.

it’s after the game, in the thick of celebration and noise, that you let her spot you. as she glances up at the stands, her eyes land on yours, going wide with surprise before filling with the kind of joy that only she can express. she laughs, a shocked, delighted sound, and rushes over as soon as she can.

“how… how did you get here?” she asks, half-breathless, half-laughing, as you lean in for a hug.

“oh, you know,” you say, shrugging with a mischievous grin. 

“i went through security and got on a plane, sat down for 18 hours– and got a ride here!”

“shut up,” she says, smacking your arm lightly, her face breaking into a grin. 

“seriously, though, i thought you were stuck with press things back home. how did you manage this?”

you shrug, meeting her gaze with all the sincerity in your heart. 

“seeing you here? cheering for you? that’s worth any missed interview. i couldn’t miss seeing that goal you scored!”

her smile softens, her fingers interlacing with yours. 

“you’re really something, you know that?” she whispers, leaning close, her forehead resting against yours. 

“you’re the best.”

the world cup final arrives. the tension in the air is palpable, every moment stretching thin as spain faces england. 

you can barely breathe as you watch her on the field, each play intense, each shot precise. it’s a nail-biting game, every moment balanced on a razor’s edge.

finally, the final whistle sounds, and spain has done it—they’ve won the world cup. you’re on your feet in an instant, cheering, the pure joy overwhelming as you watch salma celebrate with her teammates. 

tears prick your eyes, your chest swelling with pride as you watch her lift the trophy high, her face lit up in pure happiness.

as the crowd is still cheering in excitement, she’s called to the front to receive the best young player award. cameras flash, capturing the moment as she holds up the award, her expression somewhere between awe and humbleness– yet triumph is in her eyes. you can barely contain your pride, your smile wide and unwavering as you watch her.

your girlfriend is a world champion, just like you were. nothing can take that away from neither of you. 

[ragingbookdragon]

It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?

He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.

“No.”

“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”

“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”

“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”

Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”

“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.

It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”

Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”

Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.

“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”

He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.

“Quit that.”

“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”

“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”

“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”

“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”

“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”

“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”

Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”

Price simply watches him.

“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”

It's another long moment before Price speaks.

“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”

“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”

Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.

“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”

As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”

He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

[kaiser1ns]

#. FURIN HIGH SCHOOL LOVE CLUB

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. takiishi chika, umemiya hajime, endo yamato

fluff. little stories between you and the three scariest boys in their first years of high school.

TAKIISHI CHIKA is a child of the flame, a raging and unquenchable fire, the little spark that came out after having fun in another fight with Umemiya Hajime, in which again the redhead was always the winner. Over and over again, Umemiya was bothering Takiishi to fight to show he could be the winner too, and right now when they walked out of Furin's graphite corridors he kept talking to him.

"If I win, you gotta join me." but the other boy did not hear his words, "And you will acknowledge my goals." He was already getting bored because it was always the same — he fights with Umemiya, wins, and goes home. This happened several times every day, and today he just wanted, as strange as it sounds, to spend his time with someone else without fighting. "Hey, hey Takiishi! Are you listening to me? The rooftop is fre–" the white-haired boy stopped walking when he saw some girl approaching, not towards him but towards Takiishi. 

She was very, very beautiful, with her smile being so warm and radiant, and her eyes seemed to shine not from sunlight, but from her soul. Then he looked at his opponent and how his pace towards her quickened slightly, he reached out and took the bag and threw it over his shoulder, and with the other hand he grabbed hers as they left the school grounds. Now it made a lot more sense why Umemiya was being ignored. It was you, the girl from the school close to theirs as he had listened to Endo talking about some girl Takiishi was hanging out with or dating, he wasn't quite sure about the information but could see it now. Well, it couldn't be helped, he will rest to have more power for the next challenge. 

"Let's put it off until tomorrow then!"

UMEMIYA HAJIME is a wild child, he's always in trouble or is the reason causing it, but that doesn't stop him because he's having fun and testing how long he can take someone else's fists, while you can't take it all. He was grinning even though he was bruised all over, the dried-up blood barely coming off as you held the cotton to his face. "Umemiya, you seriously should stop bothering Takiishi... I can't be there for you every time after you two fight." 

You took a new piece of cotton and wet it with rubbing alcohol as you carefully cleaned the blood from his nose. It happened a little or in this case a lot every single day, you don't even study here to know that he will always seek trouble. "But he is so strong! You should have seen him too, the way he–" You quickly shut him up by shoving the cookie, that you originally both for yourself, into his mouth as he munched on it. His face was almost clean and you went to get some towels from your kitchen. "Wefe afe you foing?" he was talking with a full mouth but you understood what he was trying to say. 

And as soon as you came back to the bathroom you saw that he was only in his underwear. Your eyes widened, heat rising to your cheeks, you stopped moving and the towels fell to the ground. "Idiot, lock the door next time." you left the bathroom again, blushing furiously as you saw yours in the nearby mirror. First, he comes here unannounced, secondly, he eats from your snacks, and now he is half naked. Just who he thinks he is? Someone who can just go to you because he is hurt, someone who will hold your hand when walking you to school, or hug you tight when there are loud thunderstorms, or someone you have deeply fallen in love with. It didn't matter much because Umemiya Hajime is a wild child, and you liked every second of the wild nature.

ENDO YAMATO is a strange child, but in a good way. Somehow he always knew what the two people he cared for needed, even without saying a word. And on the rare occasions when he wasn't following Takiishi he was with you. It's like he can read you, even when you haven’t seen him in days. Today was no different. You were standing at the school entrance, watching the rain pour down, realizing too late that you’d forgotten your umbrella. Just as you were about to wait and stay inside the building, he appeared with a cheeky grin, holding up an umbrella in front of you.

“Don’t want you turning into the Little Mermaid now~��� Endo teased, the playfulness in his voice making you roll your eyes, but you smiled anyway. You linked arms with him, sharing the small umbrella as the two of you began walking toward your house. The rain beat down around you, but with him, it felt safe—warm even. His carefree attitude made everything seem lighter, even the heavy clouds above you.  When you finally reached home, you both quickly dried off and changed. You handed Endo a spare set of clothes, which he accepted with his usual smile. But just as you were about to relax, he began pulling chocolate bars out of his jacket's pockets—one after another, different kinds from your favorite brands.

“I know it’s that time of the month,” he said with a wink, leaving the chocolates on the table as he now stood next to you, the towel in his hand as he dried his hair. How did he always know exactly what you needed? You immediately wrapped your arms around him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Endo just chuckled softly, pulling you a little closer. “I always got you.”

taglist :: @maruflix @heartkaji @stunie @17020 @kiurona @meidiary @nyxypoo @kazuhaiku

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[lumiolivier]

Another Man's Treasure

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 2339

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

It's Mihawk's week to have you all to himself. You have your traditions. However, that doesn't mean they can't be so rudely interrupted.

A/N: So, yeah...You guys seem to keep liking these things. As long as you do, I'm just going to have to keep cranking them out. At least until you tell me you're sick of them.

Tags: @tavsianus @canyouhearthecoyotes @cheese-it-jr

“YN…” Mihawk liked his alone time.  But he liked it with you much more.  And there was one thing he loved with you more than anything else in the world.  However, he couldn’t seem to find you.  It was his week.  It was his turn.  And yet…Where could you possibly be?

You weren’t intentionally hiding.  You were just dragged out against your will.  An average Tuesday around the castle.  But it also meant Perona having her claws in you.  Granted, you loved Perona.  She was a sweetheart.  But of all times for her to drag you away, now was not the time.  It was the start of Mihawk’s week.  You two had a tradition.  And Perona knew it all too well.  But you also knew that dear, sweet Perona was an agent of chaos, no matter whose week it was.  It didn’t matter whose week it was.  It was always Perona’s week.

“You do know he’s going to kill you, right?” You sat still while Perona had your hands practically pinned down.  Because if you weren’t Buggy’s doll, you were hers.  And she wanted to try her hand at acrylics.  And your hands happened to be available. 

“Who, Mihawk?” Perona scoffed, “Please.  Look at my cute little face.  Like he could hate me for any reason.  He can’t be mad at me, YN.  I’m me.”

“Someone thinks awfully highly of herself,” you teased her.

“It’s not me being conceded,” Perona assured you, “It’s just fact.  Mihawk can’t be mad at me.  And if he is, it’s not for long.”

“Damn,” you let her have that one, “Good for you, Perona.”

“And I know he’s going to thank me,” Perona grinned, “I know it’s his week and you better be putting those nails to good use.”

“Perona!”

“You act like I don’t know what goes on behind those closed doors,” she rolled her eyes, “You and Mihawk are the worst.  I hear that headboard slamming into the wall.”

“Perona!” Immediately, your cheeks got hot.

“What?” she squeaked, “I’m just saying.  I’m proud of you!  No need to be such a prude.”

“I’m not…!” You wanted to strangle her.  But by some act of the divine, you keep your freshly manicured hands to yourself.  Miraculously.  You had to admit, though.  Perona did a great job for it being her first time, “Thank you, Perona…”

“You’re very welcome, YN,” Perona gave you a little smirk, “Now, those better have Mihawk’s blood on them by the end of the night.”

“Perona!”

“YN!”

“There you are, Darling,” Mihawk walked into Perona’s room, his face scrunching up, “Perona, what the hell were you doing in here?”

“Ask your lady friend,” Perona threw you to the sharks, “She’s the one who got what I did.”

“Perona gave me a mani,” You showed off your new black and silver nails…that Perona wanted blood on, “I think they worked out nicely.”

“Of course, they did,” Mihawk put your hands up to his lips, “They’re on your beautiful hands, treasure.  I’d expect nothing less.  Now, come with me.  You and I have important business to attend to.”

“Lambskin or latex, protection’s the best!” Perona called after you.

“Perona…” Mihawk scolded her.  But only for a brief moment.  She was right.  Mihawk couldn’t be mad at Perona for long.  You were impressed.

“You two have fun…” Perona shot you a wink.

“Don’t you listen to a word she says,” Mihawk took you away down the hall. You smelled something sweet, yet a touch earthy, “Perona doesn’t know what she’s talking about.  Besides, you know vbetter, don’t you?”

“Of course,” you stood on your toes and kissed Mihawk’s cheek, “We don’t fuck on the first night.  You’re much more of a gentleman than that.”

“Obviously.” Mihawk led you through his bedroom and into his bathroom covered in beautiful black marble and mother of pearl.  The steam filled the air and you knew what you needed to do.  But Mihawk got a little closer, already sliding your shirt off your shoulder.  He purred in your ear, “Shall I unwrap my perfect little present?”

“Yes, sir.” You happily insisted.  Bathtime with Mihawk was one of your favorite things in the world.  You’d get to soak your achy muscles with Mihawk’s chest on your back (and let’s be honest, his lips all over your neck and schoulders).  He ate up skin to skin contact with you more than anything.  And…well…look at him.  Mihawk was a chiseled god.  You weren’t going to say no to that.

As he helped you into his giant bathtub, he soon followed you in and made you comfortable.  Everything was already there.  A bottle of wine (As Mihawk told you, it was up to you whether or not you took it.), pillowy bubbles, and water at the perfect temperature.  Not that he didn’t love having you with him in the bathtub, but he also had an ulterior motive.  He wasn’t going to let you get into his satin sheets without making sure you were clean first.  Even if he had to do it himself.  Not that you’d ever tell him no.  You both loved the quiet time.  You loved the closeness, the warmth.  You loved how he loved you.  How he showed you just how much he loved you.  The soft, gentle touches.  You were the only girl in the world in Mihawk’s eyes.  And in that moment, nothing else mattered.  You loved Crocodile.  You loved Buggy.  But for this week, you loved Mihawk.  And Mihawk alone.  Unless someone asked nicely.  Nothing could ruin this for either of you.

“OH, HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWKKKKKEYYYYYYYYYYYESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” a man’s voice sang through the halls.  One that made Mihawk immediately tense up.  It wasn’t Crocodile.  It wasn’t Buggy.

“Mihawk?” You looked up at him, a little concerned, “What’s going on?”

“It’s alright, darling,” Mihawk assured you, idly running his fingers down your skin, “If we just stay quiet, he’ll go away.”

“Who is it?” you whispered.

“He’s…” Mihawk sighed out, “Complicated.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that,” Mihawk held you a little tighter, “One of my ghosts coming back to haunt me.”

“But that’s Perona.”

“No, no,” Mihawk shook his head, “Before Perona.  Well before Perona.  He was…I’ll admit.  He was fun for a night or two.  But…”

“FOUND YOOOOOOOOOUUU!” That same man from the hall stumbled into the bathroom.  Into the sanctuary you shared with Mihawk.  Where you were both still very much naked.

“One of us sobered up,” Mihawk rolled his eyes and threw back the rest of his glass of wine, “What the hell do you want?  And who even let you in?”

“Buggy did,” that man rolled into the bathtub with the two of you.  And it took him a minute to realize you were even there.  Once he did, though…That’s when you realized what Mihawk saw in him.  Because a man with that level of charm was deadly, “Oh…Hello…A woman?  Really, Hawkeyes?”

“I’m only going to say this once,” Mihawk did his best to keep his cool, but it grew more and more difficult by the second, “Get.  The fuck.  Out of my bathroom.”

“Look at you…” the man cradled your cheek in his palm, no doubt sending Mihawk into an internal rage, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“YN,” You tried not to swoon, but…Between the eyes, the face, the scars over his eye…You couldn’t help yourself.

“YN…” And then…That smile hit you.  And you were done.  Granted, you knew whose bed you’d be sleeping in for the week, but…This one made a case for himself, “What is that…South Blue?”

“Mmhm…”

“A pretty little southern girl…” he smirked, “Good for you, Mihawk.”

“Yes, yes, I’m very lucky,” Mihawk growled, “Now, get the fuck out of here, Shanks!”

“Alright, alright,” he rolled out of the bathtub, his clothes soaking wet, “So, should I wait in the bedroom, then?”

“If it’s a guest room,” Mihawk scoffed, “I am not sleeping with you, Shanks.”

“Aww, come on…” he slurred, “You know you want to…”

“No,” Mihawk grabbed a towel for you, handing it off with an apologetic look in his eyes, “Why don’t you go to our room?  I’ll handle this.”

“Ok.” You wrapped yourself up in your towel and started walking off to the bedroom.  Never did you expect to meet any of the Cross Guild’s exes, let alone under these circumstances.  Let alone Mihawk’s.  At least you knew Mihawk had taste.  But there was something more.  You didn’t like that look in his eyes.  Just because he didn’t say something didn’t mean something didn’t happen with them.  You’d never see him so scary.  And yet, he seemed so defeated.

After you were dried off, you put on a black silky robe and made yourself comfortable on the bed.  Although, the angry and colorful language you heard down the hall wasn’t exactly the comfort you were looking for.  But then, it got quiet.  Scarily quiet.  You weren’t entirely sure if it was because it was over or Mihawk needed to hide a body.  But before too long, one word echoed through the castle.  It could be heard for miles.   You had never heard Mihawk so angry.  Then again, you were also involved.

“BUGGY!”

You weren’t sure what was going to happen next.  But things went back to their scary quiet again.  Before you knew it, Buggy’s head zoomed past your door.  Just his head.  Nothing else.  It just blurred by.  Along with Buggy’s yelling accompanying his head’s flight.  You being the curious type couldn’t help but peek out at the carnage.  No blood, so you took that as a win.  That meant Mihawk kept the swords in their sheaths.  However, the new black eye coming through Buggy’s makeup was not nearly as victorious.

“You ok, Buggy?” You picked his head up from the floor.  What could you say?  You took pity on the guy.

“No, I’m not ok!” he squeaked, “My body’s missing.!  Your boyfriend just fucking decked me!”

“What happened?” Because you had a feeling that, even though it still broke your heart to see Buggy get hurt, he likely had it coming.

“Apparently, when we have company,” Buggy rolled his eyes, “I’m not supposed to answer the door.  I’m not supposed to let them in.  Oh, no.  We can’t have that.  Mr. Broody Pants barely wants us in his castle.  God forbid we have anyone else come over.  And before SOMEONE was boinking Shanks, that same SOMEONE seems to forget we have history, too.”

“Goddammit, Buggy…” you had been around the Cross Guild long enough.  You knew how they ticked.  You also appreciated Crocodile staying out of the mess.  This was purely a hissy fit between Mihawk and Buggy.  And unfortunately, you had to be the referee between them.  You had to be the one to call the fight.  And on tonight of all special nights.  Which sucked even more, “Did you know Mihawk and Shanks had any history before you let him in?”

“Of course, I did,” Buggy scoffed, “I know enough about everyone in this castle to keep myself safe.”

And if that didn’t make your heart ache just a little more, “Even me…?”

“Sorry, doll,” Buggy nestled his head in your shoulder, “An unfortunate nature of the beast.”

“You really think I’d do something so stupid, Buggy?” you started to understand where Mihawk was coming from, “You really think I would betray you?  You think I would be the one holding the bloody knife that came out of your back?  You think I’m like that to where you’d feel the need to have something over my head?”

“Well…” It was then, Buggy knew just how much he gutted you.  How much he hurt you.  And he knew he wouldn’t be able to backtrack his way out of it.

“No,” you put your foot down, “You said what you said.  You meant what you said.  You don’t realize it, Buggy, but you and Mihawk and Crocodile have-”

“Ahem…”

“And Perona…” you didn’t see her floating around, but you knew she was there.  You knew she was listening, “You’ve all been like a family to me.  And I don’t know about you, but I don’t fuck family over.  I can’t believe you’d do something like that…To Mihawk and Crocodile?  Yes.  Of course, I can see that.  All day.  I didn’t think you’d bring me into that, too.  I thought we were special.”

“And we are,” Buggy insisted, his eyes pleading, “YN…Baby girl…”

“Don’t you fucking baby girl me,” you were not happy.  And you had every right to be not happy.  It was then, you decided to take a page out of Mihawk’s playbook.  And you dropkicked Buggy’s head from one end of the hall to the other.

Although, as Mihawk stuck his head out of the guest room he had tucked Shanks into for the evening (because he wasn’t heartless.  Shanks was wasted and needed a place to crash.), he was shocked to see Buggy fly by again, “YN…?”

“What?” You snarled, already fired up from what Buggy had said.

“YN…” Mihawk’s voice took on a much more authoritative tone, “You know better.”

“I’m not in the mood, Mihawk,” you stood your ground, not letting anyone belittle your feelings right now.  You knew you had every single right to be as hurt as you were. 

“Hey…” Mihawk wrapped his arms around you and let you shake in his embrace, “What happened?”

“Buggy just pissed me off…” You admitted.

“Me, too,” Mihawk scooped you up into his arms and gently kissed your forehead, “How about I bring you back to my room and we can make it ours for the evening?  Sound good to you?”

You just nodded, your head rested in Mihawk’s shoulder. 

“Good girl,” Mihawk carried you back to bed and put you down as delicate as a newborn baby, “By the way, darling…”

“What?” You started to come down from your fit of rage.  Mihawk had that effect on you.

And he simply smiled, “Wonderful kick.”

“Thank you…” And you knew the night could only get better from there.

[greenflowerceo]

hii im suuper late to my own week ik (i'll post the rest of the days from time to time, college applications were a pain </3 but i've got most of it down

This piece is a redraw of my very first post ! This has been a wip since the start of the year so my art style unsurprisingly changed a bunch as i tweaked the lines and colors. it's not the best but it's looking as good as it can be!

as for the zine, people are free to draw up pieces for the week up until the end of september and we can compile it all together! it's not really the usual zine format but who knows.. we can maybe try to figure out a way to formally start a more structured zine project for these two

Anyway! I've decided to dedicate my greenflower week posts to my headcanons I've made up for them from the past 4 years.. I figured you guys could take a peek into my brain since I haven't really been good at that unless you catch me in a vc :") there's a buncha hcs and old ass art i never posted finally unearthing under the cut if you wanna take a peek

So, first thing: Body headcanons..

i took super long getting what i want with this waay back when I started posting cause I was still figuring out a lot with my art. i couldn't get in good details/features that would properly differentiate them or make them fun to draw. I wasn't striving to be really innovative with the designs or anything, I just wanted them to feel like characters I like looking at and thinking about

finally, i'm somewhat able to settle on these as of right now! It will most likely update as the time passes and my art changes, but this is what I got!

basically the main idea is that i wanted Lloyd to be bulkier but sharper. grew up fast and has all these edges, but then you get to know him and he's just a big ol dork. Mostly wears loose-fitting clothes that hides his figure, but he's quite built underneath

Brad's a lil taller and pretty lanky. my art style may not be able to show that properly but lloyd can snap him in half <3 he also seems hella chill but that's probably cause he got balls of steel after living through a million ninjago invasions

This thing below is an old outfit concept I have for a project that I've been working on. does not reflect my current headcanons with his physical appearance but i do like his clothes

I think he loves his role as the green ninja, saving the world and such. it came with lots of baggage and reflection but i do promise that he enjoys it for the most part. I think him wearing green is kind of like wearing work clothes so he tends to avoid it on days when he's free to keep from being too ready to jump into ninja mode

i do tend to keep him in green though cause the fandom sure does love their color-coded ninja

anyway .. that's about most of what i've got for this that looks good enough to post, so here's a bunch of other doodles/sketches, both old and new ToT

oh and a quick comic too cause why not

one more: bonus greenflower yuri

thanks for coming to read this far :) there'll be more soon

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Would you consider a request for teenage Suguru and Reader having meet-cutes when he attends missions? She's an amateur photographer who can see Curses, and is desperately trying to catch one on camera. He keeps finding her in dangerous places, but she's really persistent with it, even when he's telling her off 💀😶‍🌫️

Snapshots and Sorcery

A/N: Hi anon! Sorry this took so long. Thank you for such a cute and unique idea! I had fun writing this fic. Also I know that in JJK, Nanami specifically says cursed spirits don't show up in photos but let's ignore that and have this be minorly au-ish. Pairing: Teen! Suguru x Fem!Reader Warnings: None! Cute and fluffy. Word Count: 3.8k

Geto Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Taglist

The first time Suguru laid eyes on you, it was at a run-down museum that had shuttered closed years ago. The museum was already doing poorly long before it closed, unable to bring in enough revenue, until the bank had seized its assets, and the poor curator had hung himself from the neck of the apatosaurus model in the dinosaur wing.

It was rumored the apatosaurus was haunted, roaring and coming to life at night, thrashing around, and reducing the other exhibits to pieces. Sometimes, the occasional high school student would drop by and peek in through the windows on a dare, then hearing the eerie noises coming from inside the building, make a break for it. The ones that stayed too long were never seen again. 

This is why Geto is here now, creeping stealthily through the museum, the eerie look of the shattered exhibits casting distorted shadows across the length of the corridors as he surveyed for the cause. Although he had been told the curse would most likely be haunting the dinosaur wing, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of another presence nearby, emanating a tinge of cursed energy, but not enough for him to believe it could cause him harm. Just as he’d entered the museum, he’d seen a quick flash of silver making a dash towards the back of the atrium towards the birds exhibit. 

The displays looked uncanny, the taxidermied birds all out of place inside the glass displays, the ones that remained intact staring at him with unseeing, glassy eyes. It was unsettling, then as he rounded a corner, he saw another flash and breaks into a run. The sound of frantic footsteps fills his ears. Worried about losing his quarry, he quickly summons one of his curses, the manta ray one, and lets it loose, the creature quickly flying down the corridor. A shriek followed by muffled shouting fills the narrow space as Geto hurries to catch up.

Whatever it was got caught under the curse, wriggling like a mouse beneath a carpet. Cautiously, Geto calls off the curse and is surprised to see a human underneath. Defiantly, you lift your face to him, ready to fight to the death. For a second, your appearance throws Geto off—a beautiful face, followed by a lovely, feminine body. 

“You’re not a curse.” 

You scoff, fixing sharp eyes on him. “Well aren’t you a genius?” you ask sourly, sizing him up. Despite your irritation, you can’t help but notice the appeal of your assailant, the tall, broad youth with his hair up in a bun. Amethyst eyes focus on you and he seems temporarily at a loss of what to do next. 

“What are you doing here?” Geto demands, acutely aware of how this could throw off his mission. No one had mentioned a civilian being present. You scowl and cross your arms over your chest, and that’s when he notices a strap dangling from your arm, and hanging from it, the source of the flashes of silver he’d been seeing; a fancy-looking point-and-shoot camera. 

“None of your business,” you say stubbornly and Geto scoffs. 

“It is my business if you’re going to cause trouble for me. What’re you carrying that around for anyway?” He gestures to the camera.

“Creepy, allegedly-haunted museum. Thought it would make for a good art study.” Your words were too crafted and came too easily, an evasive quality to them.

“Oh, right, and I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” Geto carefully studies you. Just enough cursed energy, but not enough to be a sorcerer. 

“Well, why are you here?” You shoot his question back to him. “And what kinda uniform is that? I’ve never seen a student wearing that uniform around here before.”

Geto is about to reply, but he’s cut off as he senses a rapid movement of energy coming from the opposite side of the building. Whatever the curse was, it appeared to have scented him, and he had no time to waste chit-chatting.

“Look, I have something to take care of,” he says, urgency creeping into his voice. “If you know what’s good for you, please get out of the museum.”

“Why? It’s a free country. I can-” You stop as an unnatural, hair-raising shriek is heard, echoing from the opposite end of the bird exhibit. You shoot a look at Geto and both of you go tearing off in the opposite direction. 

“I’m Geto Suguru,” he says as you both run, hearing heavy footsteps chasing after them. You manage to give him your name as both of you hurtle out of the birds wing and turn into the entomology section. The curse, thrown temporarily off track, pauses and goes in another direction.

“Look,” Geto says in a whisper, “You need to get out of here. It’s dangerous. I-”

“Then why are you staying? Isn’t it dangerous for you too?” Geto looks at you curiously and something in his brain clicks. 

“You can see them, can’t you?” He asks, and for a moment, you’re startled, looking at him with wide eyes. 

“Yes,” you admit after a beat. “Oh, God! Finally! Someone who can see them too!”

“What’s with the camera?”

“No one believes me when I tell them there are…things. So I was trying to catch one on film.”

Geto looks disbelievingly at you, then shakes his head. “Trust me, it’s not worth your life trying to get a picture of a curse. Now please get out of here so that I can exorcise it.”

“Exorcise? What are you, some sort of priest?”

“A sorcerer,” he admits.

“But this might be my only chance, I-”

“Trust me, it won’t be. There are curses everywhere. But this one is particularly powerful and nasty. Better luck with something less vicious.”

“But I-” You gasp as the curse suddenly makes an appearance, crashing through another entrance at the far end of the exhibit. It was truly grotesque, like a decaying dinosaur carcass come to life, with no skin on its body, eyes red and wild. 

Geto immediately springs into action, calling forth another curse from his arsenal. You can’t tear your eyes away from the scene, your heart hammering in your chest as the handsome youth you had known for all of five minutes goes charging into the fray. The most strange and curious creatures came forth as he summoned them, a small agile human compared to the monstrous dinosaur he was fighting. You attempted to take a picture but with all the movement, each shot was blurred.

You’re praying nothing happens to Geto, then finally, 2 of his curses distract the dinosaur long enough for him to begin the exorcism. With a roar that shook the whole museum, Geto begins to suck the curse into his palm. You watch in wide-eyed fascination, the camera forgotten in your hands as the behemoth swirls into black mist, then becomes encapsulated into a black sphere contained neatly in Geto’s palm. Silence falls through the room, and with a shaky breath, you approach Geto. 

“That was pretty neat,” you say, trying not to tremble. Geto looks at you, then at the orb sitting in his palm like a huge black pearl. 

“Look,” he says sympathetically. “I can understand why you want to photograph a curse. But I’m also telling you it’s dangerous and you could get hurt. You could even die. Haven’t the reports of the missing high school students scared you enough to not want to see one ever?”

You shake your head no. “That’s not going to stop me. I need to prove I’m not crazy. Everyone thinks I’m a freak.”

“I know you’re not crazy. Isn’t that enough?” When you remain silent, he huffs in frustration. “Look, I know it sounds bleak, but trust me. It’s better to live knowing there’s someone who believes you, than dying trying to prove to everyone else that doesn’t.”  

He pats your shoulder, a friendly gesture no doubt, but it sends a current of heat through your body, making you blush. You hoped the lack of lighting in the museum would hide your reaction to him.

The both of you walk together towards the entrance in silence, your heart hammering as you get outside and you see his face in the light. A handsome face, clearly on the brink of manhood, looks down at you with a stern expression.

“Well. Take care of yourself. And no more chasing curses. I hope we don’t meet again. At least, not under such grim circumstances.”

Before you could respond, he was walking away, vanishing into the night.

The days that follow are spent combing through the camera, but all photos of the curse were a waste, too blurry to be salvaged. However, there were several of Geto, and you can’t stop from poring over his face, remembering the way he’d moved and quickly contained the curse, effectively saving your life in the process. You hated to admit it, but you were smitten with him.

He had called himself a sorcerer. You wished you had asked for his phone number before he’d vanished. Partly because you wanted to ask him more questions, but also because you’d never had someone in your life who you could talk to about curses, as he’d called them. He knew you weren’t crazy. That thought gave you so much hope, that there was someone who believed you, who saw the terrible things you saw.

It had taken months for you to work out the curse’s location in the museum. You wondered if you managed to find another one…would he be there?

With that, you start an internet search, looking up haunted locale and areas reporting missing people within Tokyo. 

»•» 📷 «•« “Not you again!”

Geto lets out an exasperated sigh as he sees you lingering near the entrance of an old, ruined temple, tucked away in an isolated, mountainous region outside of the city. 

You grin, trying not to let on how eager you are to see him, almost skipping over to him as he rolls his eyes. Admittedly, it had been a chance to go to this location, but you couldn’t be more pleased that your guess was correct. 

“You have a death wish, don’t you?” 

“So do you if you work as a sorcerer,” you bite back, now next to him. Your trusted camera hangs from your arm and he groans at the sight.

“You still haven’t given up the idea of catching one of these things on camera?” he asks, irritated.

“Nope! And I figured, with a sorcerer by my side, I might actually capture a picture, and leave the place alive.”

Geto rolls his eyes at your persistence. “You are not following me in there.” 

“Oh please. Like that’ll stop me.”

“This curse is too dangerous.”

“Do you just say that for all the curses you handle?” you ask in a bored tone. 

“No. You just happen to be at places where the really dangerous ones nest. Are you like a magnet or something? Just…pulled in even against better judgment?”

“Then what does that make you?”

The defiant way you say it makes him snort. “I’m not here out of morbid fascination. I’m here because this is my job.”

He says the words with a touch of finality and turns to walk into the temple, then yells out in dismay as you run past him. He catches up to you quickly, grabbing hold of your wrist and making your heart pound in your chest which had nothing to do with the exertion from running.

“Don’t make me drag you out of here. I’ll place one of my curses near the entrance to watch you so that you can’t get in.”

When you continue to pout he sighs. “You really want a picture huh?”

You nod enthusiastically. “I really do.”

And I want to see you again. 

The words form in your mind, unbidden. “Isn’t there any way you can tell me if a curse is dangerous or not? All I want is the one picture.”

“And you’d stop putting yourself in danger?”

“Yes! Promise!”

Geto tsks impatiently, wanting to finish his mission as quickly as possible, then relents as you continue looking at him like a puppy.

“Fine,” he says indignantly pulling his mobile phone from his pocket. “What’s your number?”

You blink. “You’re asking for my number?” You try not to sound breathless.

“Yes.” There’s a bite of impatience in his voice. “C’mon, hurry up I haven’t got all day.”

You quickly recite your number, and he saves it, sending you a text to confirm. Your face is a little too pink when you get his text, but you look at him neutrally as he heads inside.

“Please don’t follow me,” he says and there is a tinge of concern in his voice.

“Scout’s honor,” you say, striking the gesture with your fingers, and he throws you a glance over his shoulder that could’ve suggested amusement before being swallowed by the temple entrance. 

Almost a month passes by before you see him again.

Geto was always busy and away on some mission or another. The last few curses had all been classified as a grade 2 or higher, so you hadn’t had an opportunity to take a picture just yet.

However, of late, he’d been texting you after getting back to his dorm room from missions, asking about your day and how you were doing. Used to being the weird girl, isolated, misunderstood, because you could see cursed spirits, you had never experienced this kind of amity before. You’d text him late into the night, waiting up for him sometimes until he texted first.

One night, you were restless. It had been weeks since you last saw him, and when he texted you, confirming he was back in the city, you boldly asked if he wanted to go into the shopping district with you. You didn’t need anything, but there was a weird emptiness inside you, a need to see him again, to convince yourself he was real, this person who finally understood the frustration you’d experienced your whole life. He was sympathetic to you, telling you that this was a classic age-old problem between sorcerers and regular humans. 

“We’re kind of like the trash cans of society,” he says jokingly, sipping his milk tea as the both of you wandered through the streets, waiting at the signal light to cross. “We get rid of all the garbage that festers from normal humans, yet people always turn up their noses at us.”

You listen to him in fascination, quietly sipping your own tea. “I wish I could be a student at your high school,” you murmur. Geto’s expression changes slightly, as though he’s weighing what he should say next. The bright lights of the shopping district float around you as wait for his next words. 

“I understand why you’d feel that way. But trust me you don’t.”

“Trust me I do. At least no one will think I’m the weird girl. No one will doubt me if I say I see something, because you can see it too.”

“Yes, but it’s also mission after mission. Death. Risking your life. You saw what happened at the museum.”

“But your life is so cool! You said you can control the curses you absorb right?” You falter at the look on his face, displeasure falling over it like a veil.

“Do you know how I absorb those curses?” he asks quietly, all traces of geniality disappearing from his voice. The unexpected harshness catches you off guard. Swallowing, you venture a guess.

“You put them into those spheres right?”

“That’s to contain them. Do you know what happens after that?” Geto looks like his milk tea was suddenly replaced by sludge. You meekly shake your head no, his demeanor starting to frighten you a little bit. “I swallow them. I literally eat them. Do you know what it’s like, eating a cursed spirit?” He pushes on, not bothered to hear your response. 

“It tastes like a rag that’s been used to wipe up shit and vomit. And I do this over and over again because it’s what’s expected of me. I’ve never been allowed to make a choice that doesn’t surround jujutsu. I can’t leave, because what would happen to humanity, the non-jujutsu humans?” All the bitter feelings he’s been bottling up come spilling out. He couldn’t believe that you wanted his life, especially not after seeing the kinds of situations he’s put into regularly.

No one understood him, not even at school, because curse absorption was such a rare ability. Even if he tried to put it into words, he knew how everyone would react; like it was his duty to continue to do it even if he hated it, treated like some sort of heroic martyr for protecting the human race. For once, he’d love to be you, able to see cursed spirits, but having zero obligation to do anything about it. The appeal of the milk tea dissipates, and he throws it into a trash can, disgust lining his face as his feelings about sorcery start bubbling up.

“I can never think of having a normal life. Going into something other than sorcery, or to just have a selfish moment where if I don’t want to take on a cursed spirit, I can say no and walk away.” He starts walking faster and you’re almost sprinting to keep up with him.

“Geto!”

“You don’t understand how lucky you are! I’d pick being the class weirdo any day over having to absorb a cursed spirit.”

You hurry behind him, trailing in his wake, worrying you have ruined everything. “Geto please- I didn’t mean-”

“I’d love to be normal! To go on a date, maybe hold hands, maybe even kiss a girl if I get lucky! Where’s the time for that? If I’m absorbing cursed spirits all the time? I know what it tastes like! Who would want to be with me? Who would want to kiss me?” 

You’ve both walked a reasonable distance from the main shops onto a waterfront shopping strip. It was quieter here, a pleasant breeze flowing through the night air as Geto heatedly walked towards the railing, you scurrying behind him. You manage to catch hold of his hand and to your relief, he doesn’t pull away.

“Geto.” Your heart aches for him. “I’m sorry I brought it up,” you mumble, wishing he’d turn around and look at you. He peers over the railing at the water, watching little lily pads float on the surface.

The silence between you both is deafening. Treading carefully, you try to talk to him again, keeping your voice gentle. “Geto, before I met you, do you know what my life was like? With everyone thinking I was a liar? Or that I was making up things to get attention?” 

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue. 

“I had no one. Everything changed when I met you. I felt like…someone finally gets it. And it’s not just me who can see those awful things. They really exist, and there are lots of people who can see them. It made me feel…a little less alone.” 

He turns to look at you, his expression doubtful and your heart skips a beat as you realize you're still holding his hand, the tension between you both blossoming like springtime wildflowers. 

“You said you wanted…to hold hands. To kiss someone.” You draw closer. “What would you do…If I said…I want to do those things with you?”

His eyes widen as you get closer but he doesn’t push away. “I’d ask you if you were sure because you might be making a mistake.”

You shake your head. “I’m positive I’m not making a mistake.”

His hand, the one you’re holding onto tightens around your smaller one and pulls you against him. You inhale, his skin smelling wonderful and his chest so big and broad and warm. 

“Geto…” Your voice is lost amidst the tangle of nerves and rush of excitement, both hearts hammering in their chests. Shy inexperience made both of you blush before you raised your head, and Geto’s tips downwards, and your lips met gently, a subtle brush against the other before breaking away. You giggle awkwardly, unable to stop and Geto also grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. 

“Um…that was nice,” he murmurs, not looking at you and chuckling, unsure what to say. 

“Was that a good first kiss?” 

“Oh!” Geto now laughs too but still doesn’t pull away, instead, maintains proximity with you, and brushes some loose hair away from your face. “Uh, yeah. It was…like how I imagined it.”

Silence falls between you both, not an uncomfortable one, but the kind where both kissers are considering if they should change topics or kiss again to make sure the first one wasn’t imagined. 

Geto’s eyes suddenly widen as he sees something floating near your head. He pulls you close to him, then huffs as he sees a harmless flyhead, then with a jolt of realization, he taps your shoulder.

“Flyhead curse! It’s harmless! Take your picture now!”

“What?” you look over your shoulder and see the creepy-looking gremlin of a creature then gasp. “I don’t have my camera!”

“Phone! Quick!” Without hesitating, Geto reaches out and grabs the flyhead which struggles and buzzes angrily but is too weak to try escaping. It squirms and tries to sink its little teeth into Geto’s fist and he shakes it angrily. 

“Hurry up!”

With hands trembling in excitement, you pull out your phone and quickly snap a crystal-clear picture the the ugly critter. It makes a low grumbling noise and Geto throws it away into the air. It mutters angrily at him before zooming away.

“Shouldn’t you have exorcized that?” you ask, looking in awe at the photo on your phone. 

“Nah. It’s pretty harmless. Chances are it’ll get squished by a lower-rank sorcerer by daybreak.”

Your cheeks are red with happiness, triumph glittering in your eyes. “I can’t believe it, I actually got a picture of it…” You rake a hand through your hair.

Geto silently watches your outburst of enthusiasm, a smile tugging his lips. “So what’s more exciting - you finally catching a curse on camera, or the fact that you just had your first kiss and it was with me?” His voice is soft and teasing and you roll your eyes but fail to control the dusting of pink in your face.

“I think I need to experience it again before I can decide.”

“Is that right?” Suguru smirks before pulling you closer to him. “Let’s see if we can help you make a decision.”

You grin widely before your lips touch again, and you knew it had never been a question from the start. 

@estarlias @daswanj @actuallysaiyan @whatshernameis

@byul9158 @mirrors-musings @Mangiswig

@that-goth-bisexual @connorsui @jadedjane @darkstarlight82

@soft--cherry @galactict3a @hunnie-lily

[augiewrites]

"bartender" - dallas winston

request: Hi! I love your work and was wondering if you could do one for Dally from the outsiders where he's helping bartend for Buck to earn a couple bucks and Curtis!Reader is just sitting at the bar teasing him about it.

pairing: dallas winston x curtis!reader

word count: 618

a/n: i can't tell if i'm writing dally too ooc, but i was aiming more for shithead vibes than meanie vibes

Dally was too aware of Y/N Curtis sitting all by her lonesome at the end of the bar. She was wearing a nice dress and more makeup than usual, but Dallas hadn’t seen her speak to anyone since arriving. She looked good—a fact that Dally would never admit out loud.

“Ain’t it past your bedtime?” He asked, sitting a fresh beer in front of her. The bottle she ordered at the beginning of the night had been long finished, the label picked clean and laying in a little pile on the bar.

“Aren’t you the one always telling me ‘sleep is for the weak’?” She smirked at him, taking a long drink from the bottle, “Just taking a page out of your book.”

He leaned against the bar, “Your brothers know you’re here?”

“What they don’t know won’t kill them,” she rolled her eyes, “I deserve to have a little fun too.”

“Being all depressing by yourself isn’t exactly what I’d call fun.”

Y/N glared at him as he moved to take another patron’s order. After a few short minutes, he returned to his spot across from her and gave her an expectant look.

They stared each other down for a few seconds before Y/N rolled her eyes at him, looking away.

Dallas opened his mouth to tell her to either stop being a sad sack or go home when she cut him off, still not meeting his gaze.

“I was supposed to meet up with Scott Davis, but he never showed.”

“Davis? That guy’s a fuckin bum!”

She finally looked up at him, anger flaring behind her eyes, “Well it’s not like I wanna marry him or anything! You’re not exactly fit to be lecturing me on who to hang out with.”

“Oh, I think I’m perfectly fit, dollface.”

She rolled away the anger in her eyes and sent him a teasing smile, “I guess it takes a bum to know one.”

He glared at her, but only half heartedly, flicking a small piece of ice at her forehead.

“Yup—that right there. Bum behavior.”

“I guess it takes a bum to know one,” he mocked her, “at least I have a job.”

“Not sure if you’re gonna make six figures by over-serving people and being mean to lonely girls at the bar.” Y/N finished her drink and slid the empty bottle across the bar.

Dallas continued glaring, “Y’know, you’re a mean drunk, lady.”

Y/N laughed, and Dallas couldn’t help the smirk pulling at his lips.

“Two beers is hardly enough to be drunk.”

“Alright, then. You’re just mean,” Dallas popped the cap off another beer and sat it in front of Y/N. “Gonna start correcting people when they go on about how ‘Y/N Curtis is just such a nice girl’”, he shook his head, “if only they knew.”

Y/N scoffed, “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that.”

“Yeah, right, with your whole ‘Saint Curtis’ act—helpin’ old ladies cross the street and tutoring dumbass kids.”

“Devil in disguise I guess,” the pair smirked at each other, holding the gaze for much longer than they should have.

Y/N cleared her throat, looking around the bar, “Shouldn’t you be doing your job?”

He took the bottle from her grasp before finishing it off in one last swig, “Shouldn’t you be going home?”

She scoffed and started collecting her things, standing up from the bar stool. “That towel,” she pointed to the dish rag tossed over his shoulder, “makes you look stupid, by the way.”

Dally removed the towel to swat at her, “Go home, stupid.”

Y/N moved toward the door, sending Dally one last smile, “Go back to work, bum.”

[a-writer]

Dancing around - Azriel x reader

I'll never get over the fact that Nesta and Az danced together in Hewn City which means that it is canon that Az actually knows how to dance so... here goes nothing:) Also took some things from scenes in ACOSF and changed it up a bit!:) enjoy<3

Warnings: no actual smut but a lot of smutty talking and thoughts.

"You don't have to do anything you don't wish to. But Elain mentioned that you have particular skill on the dance floor. Skill that once won you the hand of a duke in a single waltz." Rhys said as his eyes fixed upon Nesta.

Yes, sending her to dance with Eris was risky. But they didn't really have more options right now. Cassian wasn't looking too happy about that.

"Over my dead fucking body" He exploded. "Why can't (Y/N) do it?! She's a good fucking dancer, that's for sure."

"Thanks for the compliment, Cass." You smiled at him, his eyes full of hope for you to take his side. "But I'm with Rhys on this one. If I thought it was going to work I would do it, trust me... But Eris has known me for years, he knows I despise him. He's not going to buy the act and you know it. Plus, it will be fun to see Nesta toying with him." You gave her a wink while Cassian groaned.

"You want me to dance with Eris?" Nesta looked at you, but it was Rhys who answered.

"I want you to seduce him. Not into bed, but to make him realize what he might attain once he understands that we have no plans to break this alliance. To weigh the benefits more strongly than the risks."

"I'm sure you will do just fine, Nesta. I can show you all the dances so that you'll be prepared." You looked at her with bright eyes. Dancing lessons, always so fun.

"Nesta hasn't agreed to anything." Cassian snapped. "Even one dance with that prick is too much-"

"I'll do it." Nesta cut in, looking at you.

"Good" You smirked at her. "We start tomorrow."

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

The Winter Solstice celebration was in full swing, people drinking and dancing to the beautiful music. With Rhysand and Feyre in the throne, you were sandwiched between Cassian and Azriel, the former glaring daggers at Eris' back while he danced with Nesta and the latter monitoring everything, his left wing resting lightly on your back.

"Fuck." Cassian growled. "I can't stand and watch this." He stormed off towards Mor, who was hiding behind a pillar on the other side of the throne.

"How long do you think will take them to realize?" A slow smile crept on your lips as you looked at Az.

"Realize what, Azriel?" Your innocent eyes met his cold stare. Everyone knew that they were mates. Everyone but Cassian and Nesta, apparently. And Eris, luckily.

"You look beautiful, (Y/N)." The sudden change of subject almost gave you whiplash. "As always."

His eyes roamed down your body, covered in a Night Court black dress that hugged every curve of your body. A small strip went around your neck and back, securing two pieces of fabric covering your breasts diagonally, forming a triangle that showed the tan skin of your torso, from the middle of your breasts until the top of your navel. A tight skirt was attached to it and your back was left exposed, your hair tied up in a tight ponytail that flowed down to the top of your ass. It seemed like time had stopped while Azriel's eyes covered your entire body. Finally returning to your face, his stare found your eyes and suddenly you felt a blush staining your cheeks.

"Uh..." You coughed, trying not to think too much about that stare. "Thanks, Az. You cleaned up nice, too." Winking at him, you turned to look straight once again.

Cleaning up nice wasn't enough to describe him. Az was... Az. His eyes, his body, his hair... All of him made you think the dirtiest thoughts ever. Like how his lips would feel against your skin, how having him look at you with that intensity in his eyes would feel while he was moving inside of you- Stop.

You needed to stop. You coughed again and felt Azriel looking at you again, a smirk covering his lips. Okey, maybe your smell had given away what your thoughts had been about, but he didn't know that you were thinking about him, did he?

Before you could overreact, he leaned towards you, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. You could feel goosebumps erupt all over your skin as he whispered. "Would you like to dance with me?"

You turned, your faces so close that your noses were almost touching, and you could see the amusement glinting in his eyes. Without breaking the eye contact, he lifted a hand in between your bodies and you took it, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"Sure, Az." Your voice was higher than you'd intended, but still you plastered a cool smile on your face and lead the way to the dance floor.

A new song began just as you were settling down in a circle of couples. You could spy a glint of red hair on your peripheral vision, and you knew that Eris and Nesta were still going. Good. She seemed like she was having fun, after all.

The music began and both of you bowed, presenting yourselves to one another. He offered one of his hands and you gladly took it, taking one step closer to him. His other hand snaked across your waist and settled on your back. It was cold compared to your burning skin, and you could feel a shiver running up your back. Trying to suppress it, you forced yourself to look up at Azriel, a small sigh leaving your lips.

He was handsome, beautiful. The kind of person who turned heads wherever he went. A small pang of jealousy filled your chest at that thought and you shoved it down. It was ridiculous. You and Az were nothing, even though your chemistry was something else, that was for sure.

Azriel began moving, leading both of you graciously across the dance floor.

"I'm always surprised to see how good of a dancer you are." You were looking at his shoulder, trying to calm down the raging fire burning your insides.

"You'll be surprised to know how good I am at many things, (Y/N)." You could feel his smile as he said the words, and it was clear that he was aware of your body. Of the goosebumps, of your galloping heart and of the sweet, imperceptible to everyone but him smell of your arousal.

You tilted your head back, looking him in the eye, and the color stained your cheeks as you already found him looking at you. And then you felt it too. His slightly dilated pupils, his tongue swipping on his bottom lip and... His smell. It was just a slight change, you wouldn't even have noticed it if it weren't for the way he was looking at you. But there it was. Something muskier, rougher. Darker.

"You could show me, you know." The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

You were always teasing Azriel, making jokes, giving him shit for always being so mysterious. But this felt different. It seemed like the whole room vanished and you were the only ones dancing around. His hand tightened on our back, bringing your body impossibly closer to him. You could feel his heart through your own chest, and a knowing smirk creeped over your face as you realized that it was beating as fast as yours. Azriel leaned once more, his mouth caressing your ear.

"I've been waiting to show you for a long, long time, (Y/N)." His voice was deeper, and you had a hard time suppressing a moan.

He moved away and you almost whined until you realized that the dance was over. You were about to grab his hand again and demand to know more about what he just said when Cassian appeared.

"Az, I need you to go dance with Nesta, please." He signaled with his head towards the throne. "Eris is talking with Rhys and I need to know what's going on."

"Sure, brother."

Cassian sprinted towards Mor once more and you were observing your High Lord and High Lady. Rhys wore a cool smile, just like Feyre, but you could sense the worry in her eyes. You didn't even see Azriel moving until the front of his body was flushed against your back, his hands possessively gripping your hips.

"Tonight is the night I'll show you everything that I'm good at." He lowered his head, pressing a quick kiss just below your ear. "And I'll show you everything I've been dying to do to you."

Your eyes almost rolled back into your head and you were about to become jelly in his hands, but you managed to turn around quickly, grabbing one of his hands before he could slip away.

"Make it a promise, Shadowsinger."

Azriel smiled and winked at you, before he went to find Nesta as the next dance began.

[moonsaver]

hi hi double yandere anon again -- thought i'd put this in a separate ask :] this is only if you wanna write it, but normal sunday with a yandere reader is giving me some great thoughts. like, reader flipping the script on him, usually so composed and with everything in control, and sunday has to deal with being entirely at their mercy. idk having usual character dynamics reversed is always fun to me, so! again tysm and have a great day!! :}

Hello anon! Since both of these inbox messagws are from you, hope you dont mind that i coupled them lol. Sorry it took so long for me to respond. Im glad to know you liked that piece!

Anyways, this is a very interesting dynamic in my opinion..

Sunday x yan!reader.....

Listen. You might actually be able to convince him to a degree. Lets be for real, this man is probably STARVED for some good loving. But like almost all hsr characters, he'd be unnerved by it at first. The most repulsive situation isn't the fact you're obsessed with him, but rather that he doesn't have control over this situation. You, somehow, do.

Sunday himself is a bit.. intense in my opinion. He's had his fair share of suitors, but most likely not many or any lovers at all. He's isolated to a degree, and doesn't feel like he's desperate for love.

But when yan!reader shows up, proclaims having oh so much love for sunday.. it turns the cogs in his head a bit.

Our dear yan actually has a good chance of winning Sunday over, depending on how you might present yourself inititally. It's like when you finally get a taste of something you didn't want, but realise you've needed almost your entire life.

He's reluctant, as.. minorly expected? But not for the reasons he should be. It's the control factor that's holding him back. His secondary concern is actually more logical – he doesn't know you. And it does unnerve him slightly when you give him the tip of the iceberg of how much you might know.

But, somehow, someway, if you manage to render Sunday unable to defend himself, or kidnap him, or strip him of his reliable abilities?

Boy he is freaking. Out.

He's speaking with a strained voice, his eyes almost blown wide open, his breathing is heavy, slow and shallow, as he desperately tries to stay calm, but every alarm in his head is about to burst from the signals at the loss of control. He's like a rabid dog that's shown a glass of water. Almost snarls at you. Hates hates hates this situation so much, and it's not too soon before he settles quietly with a glare, his mind working relentlessly to weave out of your trap.

But it's a strange pull. He protests and threatens you when you even try doing something – even if its harmless and he would allow you to outside of this situation. But then you wear him down, and you're so gentle with him. You kiss his face and hold him so close and warmly, you listen and even understand his ideals when he talks about them to gauge your personality. This feels as though it's the first time someone truly sees him – scary as it might be, to lay bare all your self, but the very fact you can love him so well makes him.. delirious.

Oh, but he still despises you (for the lack of a stronger word) because of the control aspect. However, instead of planning a heavy punishment for your crime of kidnapping him after he finds a way out.. he may form other methods of payback.

[heaartzzforcupidzz]

A/N: okayyy this is from the poll everyone! https://www.tumblr.com/heaartzforcupid/745456435020873728/vote-for-which-ones-next-breeding-catnap-x

“Breedings and marks.” (Modern AU)

relationship(s): catnap x bunny!

reader x Dogday

warning(s): smut, mentions of kids,

Catnap = breeding

Dogday = marks

you guys had been dating for a year and 36 days. you all were trying to get into the groove of this .. poly relationship. they didn’t love eachother but they loved you. so they made it work, all for you.

you all had been walking around the store when this wolf came up to you. you smiled softly as he began to ask for your number and casually flirt with you. The wolf didn’t even notice them both, actually. Catnap picked up on it before Dogday. but when Dogday did pick up on it, his mood was quite sour to. Catnaps tail gripped the inside of your thigh, before he grabbed your hand and took you away to the bathroom. while Dogday looked at the guy and before he could even blink, he got punched in his face by the golden dog.

Catnap had been roughly fucking into you as his tail held your legs up and you laid on the spacious counter. his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt. he groaned each time his length squeezed itself into your velvety walls. it felt like his cock was in a sauna but oh, so good - it was like heaven to him. the more his cock pumped into you, the more he thought of how you’d carry his kittens. his eyes looked into yours before he whispered “can’t wait to see you swell with my kids, Midnight..~” he whimpered, helplessly as he dumped load after load inside you.

you were walking inside the store again, thighs squeezed tightly as you swayed. Catnap was walking behind you, proudly as Dogday was pouty that you guys had, had ‘fun’ without him. you had quickly got everything you would need for dinner and went to the cash register, embarrassed of your actions. Dogday did not let you pay as he gave the cashier the money you owed. you smiled softly, he was too sweet for this world.

when you guys had made it home, you had helped take everything out of the car before rushing to your guys shared bathroom. you got undressed, showing your perky nipples and plump ass. you got in the shower and began to bathe yourself of the icky lavender scent left on you and your cunt. about 10 minutes later, Dogday bursted inside, his vanilla scent bursting in with him. you could make out him moving a bunch before you heard his collar clink to the ground.

Before long, he was climbing in the shower with you. he pinned you against the wall and slid his musky thick cock inside. you took a gasp as he thrusted himself to the hilt, his eyes shut tightly. you both panted. he controlled himself better then you though and grinned, as he seen you so overwhelmed. the sharp teeth he had looking almost devilish as he began to fuck into you ruthlessly. the loud clapping noises could be heard from downstairs or even upstairs. the white goo that connected you both was mesmerizing. white, stretchy, and glossy. the deep harsh sounds of his balls slapping against your ass was enough to have you crying out for him. his dick was just too much for your tight pussy. he couldn’t hold back anymore, he was about to cum! he looked at your pretty unmarked freckled skin and he opened his jaws, biting. you yelled loudly as he sucked the piece of flesh as his hips kept moving. you moaned in ecstasy and abit of pain. - which made it, oh, so thrilling. he came deep inside your womb before softly pulling out. when you regained your senses, you rushed him out, aggravated that you had to bath yourself again.

“have fun without me, Midnight?” you blushed as you had recalled your shenanigans with Dogday. Catnap had began to mimic your moans before you had hit him with a wooden spatula right on his dome. “oh, shut up, you stupid cat.” Catnap chuckled, rubbing his head before he sat at the dinner table across from Dogday. They both began to do their own thing. Catnap scrolling on his phone while Dogday watched people throw balls at their dogs on the tv. you smiled at your two boys as you were ready to make them dinner.

you finally had made dinner when there was a knock on the door. you looked at Catnap and Dogday who were just as confused as you. you opened the door to see the wolf from earlier. you smiled and waved before you realized his eye was bruised. you quickly asked what happened before you put two and two together and realized it was Dogday. you offered to pay for the medical bill but the white fuzzy wolf told you it was fine and that you had dropped your ring and he just wanted to give it to you.

you smiled at the sweet wolf as you watched him leave. you then looked back at Dogday and Catnap, who were looking anywhere but you. let’s just say, you gave them both a lecture of a lifetime and no pussy until the next day.

what? you just couldn’t help it when it came to your boys.

A/N; Hihi, yes I am still doing requests.. more should be out by tmr everyone ❤️

TAGS: @2faced-fairy @alyssalololol

[beforeimdeceased]

I’m actually in LOVE with crybaby!!! It’s so good😫😫😫

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT8, FINAL PART!

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you weren’t you anymore.

a/n: it’s so over…thank you all for the love you’ve shown crybaby! i’m happy to say i’m actually proud of something i’ve written, for the first time in a long time. thank you for reading and for all your comments and support! tags: @skylerwhitwyo

you’re a crisis of my faith

masterlist.

you weren’t you anymore. you weren’t you when abby opened the door to find you and ellie tangled together in an illicit affair. you weren’t you when you looked into her eyes, saw the pain and agony, and asked her if she didn’t mind closing the door. that you were busy doing something.

you weren’t you because you didn’t chase after her when she left. because you didn’t apologize, you just went on as you were. forgetting. you went on forgetting all the way home in her car. melting the pain away, filling the silence with meaningless conversation she was too upset to engage in. knuckles white while she gripped the steering wheel.

you’re not yourself.

at first it was fun to let go with ellie. she liked that you didn’t care anymore. that you could joke around with each other. that she didn’t have to walk on eggshells with you. or atleast, that’s how she felt. until she was missing you on tour one night.

alone in a bar, waiting for dina and jesse, she came across someone that looked as doe eyed as you used to be. her heart started to sink when she skipped over.

another bar, years ago. when you’d caught her after another show in which she’d made a mistake. you came to her with flowers from a fan and a note. “hey ellie this is—“

“fuck i’m such a fucking idiot.” she blurts. you sigh, anticipating a string of curses and insults, but she sees the note and the flowers. “what’s this?”

“it’s a note from a fan, she didn’t get to catch you before you ran off.”

she holds her hand out and you place the piece of paper in it. standing as you hold the flowers. watching her read it.

this is the first concert i’ve been to in a while and i just want to say thank you so much. i struggle a lot with social anxiety and big crowds and stuff but i really wanted to see you. i’ve been a fan since i found your guy’s cover of take on me on soundcloud and it struck a deep chord within me. you’re amazing, you know that, but i just wanted to tell you that. just in case you forget.

— your biggest fan

you hand her the flowers, pretending not to see her tears. pretending not to feel teary eyed yourself. because you’d never seen her sad cry. you’ve seen her angry cry plenty of times, but never fix her face into a frown and let the strains of tears overflow. you look away as sadness fills the space between you.

“you’re ellie williams right?” the doe eyed girl brings her back to the present. she nods. “in the flesh.”

it only took a couple drinks and ellie’s charms to lure her away from the crowded area. nestled in the corner of the bar, ellie latching her mouth onto the girls neck. imagining your body in place of hers. pretending her moans were yours. wishing that she was you.

she’d felt dirty after she finished, a feeling that was entirely new to her. you both weren’t obligated to only be with each other after that night in the bathroom, but she couldn’t get you out of her mind. maybe it was because the girl reminded her of you? then she remembered that you weren’t like that anymore. that you had completely changed.

when tour ended and the group returned home, you took it upon yourself to throw a party. the old you would have gone for a small get together at your house, with the three of them and donuts, but the new you was leaning towards some club soirée.

you were excited to show everyone more of the new you. a new style to match your new personality. a new way of living to replace your old one. completely killing the girl you’d been before.

you met them at dina and jesse’s place, ensuring you’d be there the second they got off the tour bus. excitedly rushing over to give them a hug, and ellie an awkward handshake. they look you up and down, taking in your changed appearance with concern. “new clothes?” jesse speaks up.

“new me.” you shrug, helping them carry their bags up.

when everything is settled in, they all grab a seat on the couch. you slump into their loveseat, sighing. “so there’s this party...”

dina shakes her head. “no no absolutely not. i love you, but god we’re exhausted. no party tonight.”

“it’s tomorrow. it’s your welcome back party.” the corner of your mouth twitches. “i want to sleep for atleast a week.” dina huffs. “i need to go shower right now actually.” she gets up, placing a kiss on your forehead when she passes by. jesse does the same, following behind her.

you don’t take offense to it. this might’ve hurt you a little bit in the past, feeling stupid for planning a party when it’d make sense that they want to rest. now, you didn’t care. you could party by yourself. you could party with ellie.

you look over at her, and she looks like a wounded stray. like she’s guilty of something she didn’t do. you get up and join her in place of the lovebirds. a wide smile on your face. “are you gonna come to the party?”

she breathes. “maybe. i don’t know yet.”

it’s silent for a beat. you pull out your phone and she remembers the day she took it. the agony in your voice when you were asking for it back. the day she made you cry. she shakes away the thought.

“how about we play a game?”

the peace you were experiencing in the moment felt foreign. it’s been years since you had a chance to have quality time with ellie. without her ruining it, ofcourse. it was almost like those first few weeks back when you met. playing all the board games lodged in the bookshelf of jesse’s parent’s place. before him and dina had moved in together.

these were those very same games. monopoly, sorry, connect four, and more. you settled on connect floor, crisscrossing your legs on the floor. she joins you, getting comfortable.

“i’ll keep score!” you offer, going to your phone’s notes. before you can do much about it, you realize that it’s shutting off because the battery is low. you lodge it into your back pocket and shrug, grabbing an empty envelope off of the couples counter. “my phones dead, i’ll just write it.”

then you’re making a t chart, and ellie feels as if all the air is being kicked out of her lungs. your handwriting is the same as the one that was on that letter.

but that can’t be true, right? this is the same fan who’s been writing her for years. this is handwriting that’s been on signs held up at shows. the handwriting on a small cluster of loyal groupie’s handmade tshirts.

but surely she’d have noticed this before. you’d written in front of her before, right? memories were fuzzily being put back together in the moment. your unfiltered and unconditional love for her. your kindness that you’d extended even when she was mean to you. even when she was cruel.

even when you’d had enough of the tear filled nights and decided you needed time away. you still asked how ellie was, she could hear it on the other side of the fucking phone. when you were talking to dina and jesse. when you were communicating love through them to her.

you called all those rehab centers to get her help, that’s how jesse had found one so fast. you left her meds on the table for her the next morning, not dina. it was your voice telling her she’d had enough. it was you, being brave enough to take her verbal lashings because you knew if she didn’t take it out on you, she would take it out on herself.

it was you, it was always you. she was remembering now.

“ellie?”

you look away from the paper to find her crying. crying because the you that was always there, had slipped between her nimble fingers. had melted into the cracks of hatred. she was crying because she realized why she was feeling out of sorts. she hadn’t gotten a letter this week.

a letter from—well, you.

she wanted to yell at you. to scream at you. to call you stupid for staying around when you know how she is. she wanted to curse herself for getting you to let your guard down with a fake apology, and fucking it up all over again. for pushing you past your breaking point.

“i don’t wanna play anymore.” she felt disgusting. she felt like she was going to be sick. “ellie what’s the matter—“

she’s hyperventilating now, watching as you slowly slide towards her. extending your arms while you try to catch her in a hug. she thought back to the days she called you useless. called you pathetic. called you a crybaby.

you hold her, and it’s the first time she’s ever truly felt held. the first time she’s in your arms and she’s sober. the first time she’s in your arms and she feels sorry. truly, terribly sorry.

you pull her in closer to you, turning her onto her side so you can rub your thumb across her cheek. wiping some of her tears away. she begins to cry even harder, but you don’t push her away. even when your pants are soaked and snotty. you let her lay there, and cry into you.

[therealcocoshady]

Could you do a request where lily is 5 or 6 and she gets really emotional because her dad is going on tour and he looks at her kinda confused as to why she is upset as she is and she’s like “I don’t want to lose my best friend”🥺

Please don’t go

Author’s Note : Hi ❤️. Thank you for your request ! I hope you enjoy it 🥰.

Side note : this happens before Reader gets pregnant with the twins.

Four weeks. It was one of the shortest tours he’d ever done, with only a few dates planned and a lot of days dedicated to resting but it still seemed too long a time to spend away from home. The last time Marshall had gone on tour was three years ago, when Lily was two. Now, she had just turned five and it was the most time he would spend away from her ever since he’d married you and adopted her. He hated being away from you and you knew it. You spent the couple of days prior to his departure together, enjoying some family time and helping him pack his bags. You were in the bedroom while he was checking his bag for the last time.

- Babe, didn’t I put my jewelry in the bag yesterday ? He asked.

- Yep, you replied. Small wooden box.

- It’s there but there are pieces missing, he groaned. My nugget bracelet ? My rope chain ? They were there weren’t they ?

- I put them in there myself, you said. Have you checked thoroughly ?

- Babe, it’s a small box and I’m not dumb, he sighed. Look !

He showed you the box and you immediately noticed that the pieces were, indeed, missing. He was already an ogre about his departure, stressed out and neurotic about the packing and you knew that this would make things even worse. You spent the day searching the whole house for the jewelry, but to no avail. You tried suggesting that it wasn’t dramatic, that it had to be home, but he insisted he couldn’t perform without them. When it came to performing, he was all about traditions, habits and superstitions.

- Fuck, he groaned. We’ve searched everywhere.

- Not everywhere, you said suddenly.

- Mmmh ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

- There’s one room we haven’t checked, you explained.

He looked at you and sighed. Indeed, you had not checked Lily’s room. It didn’t make much sense for the jewelry to be in her room, but it had to be somewhere. Marshall went upstairs and knocked on the door before entering.

- hey bug, he said. Are you having fun ?

- Do you want to play with me ? she asked.

- I can’t, sweetie. I’m still packing, he explained. Speaking of which… have you seen my gold jewelry ?

- Which jewelry ? She asked innocently.

- My gold bracelet and my chain, he said patiently.

- No, I haven’t, she said in a small voice.

He looked at his daughter, who was looking away. She was a good kid. Too good, most of the time, which meant that she was a terrible liar. Her gaze focused upon her bed, avoiding his stare.

- Lily, he warned. Are you telling the truth ?

- Yes, she said even though he could see she was lying through her teeth.

- Lily, I’m giving you one last chance, he sighed. Did you take my stuff ?

- Yes, she whispered as she looked down.

- Where did you put it ? He asked.

- Under my pillow…

He looked and, indeed, found his jewelry under her pillow. He grabbed it and looked at her before sighing.

- Do you have an idea of the time Mommy and I lost while we looked all around the house ? He groaned. I’m leaving on Monday, I don’t have time for this !

- I’m sorry, Daddy, she said as tears welled up in her eyes.

- Why did you do this ? He sighed. You know lying and stealing isn’t ok. We raised you better than this !

- Because I’m going to miss you ! She cried.

Before he knew it, his little girl was sobbing and hiccuping, with tears streaming down her face and her voice breaking. She was obviously distressed and it broke his heart. He put the jewelry on the nightstand and kneeled besides her before pulling her to him.

- I’m sorry, Daddy, she hiccuped.

- Shhhh, he said as he stroked her head. Breathe, sweetie.

It took a couple of minutes for her to calm down. When she finally did, he looked at her and wiped her tears with his thumbs.

- Did you really think that stealing my stuff would prevent me from leaving ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

- You said you couldn’t leave without, she said apologetically. I don’t want you to leave…

- I have no choice, he sighed. I have to work.

- But I’ll miss you, she whined.

- I’ll miss you too, baby, he assured her. I’ll miss Mom and your sisters as well. And Winky too. But I can’t cancel work, you know ?

- Ok, she sniffled. Am I grounded ?

- I should ground you, he nodded. Because I know you know better than to steal and lie. But I understand that you’re sad.

She nodded and he kissed her forehead. She wrapped her small arms around his neck and hugged him as tight as she could.

- I would have been sad if I’d had to leave without my jewelry, you know ? He explained.

- I’m sorry, she mumbled. I won’t do it again. I didn’t want to steal. I just didn’t want you to leave.

- I know, he said softly as he kissed her forehead. I don’t like leaving you either. But this jewelry makes it easier for me when I’m away. Like a good luck charm, you know ?

- Yes ? She asked.

- Yeah, he explained. I wear my wedding ring all the time because it reminds me of Mommy. And I have my bracelet to remind me that I can do a good job.

- And the chains ? She asked.

- A friend gave it to me, he said with a smile. And it remind me of someone really special, too.

- Who ? She asked. Your friend ?

- No, he chuckled as he grabbed the chain to show her. See these ? They’re teeth marks. Yours, actually.

- Mine ? She asked with a raised eyebrow.

- Yeah, he said with a smile. When you were little, you always played with it and, sometimes, you would put it in your mouth. So now, every time I wear it, it makes me think of you. That’s why I need it with me.

- So you don’t forget me ?

- I could never forget you, sweetie, he chuckled. But yes, the chains remind me of you. And that, even when I’m far away, I have a piece of you with me.

- I love you, Daddy, she said emotionally as she hugged him again.

They stayed like this for a minute. He was going to miss his baby girl and he was gutted that he couldn’t take the both of you on tour with him. The two of you had even studied the logistics and envisioned pulling Lily out of preschool, but you simply had too much work to do for Shady Records, especially now that you were trying for a baby. You hoped to get pregnant within the year and, being a workaholic, you were already trying to get work done before going on maternity leave.

Now that he had found his jewelry, his mind was at ease and he allowed himself to spend some time playing with Lily. At dinner, you were joined by his eldest daughters, so that he could spend some time with everyone before leaving the next day. At one point, the conversation shifted to the plans while Marshall would be gone and Lily’s mood started to get grim again. She was looking down at her plate, sulking.

- Are you excited for the sleepover with your friends next weekend, Lily ? Hailie asked.

- No, the little one pouted.

- Come on, it’s going to be fun ! Alaina said as she tried to cheer her up.

- I don’t care, Lily whined.

- What’s up, sweetheart ? Marshall asked. All your friends will be here.

- You won’t be here, Daddy ! She pouted. You’re my best friend, but you’ll be gone…

The comment made his heart melt. He went to her and hugged her tight.

- I’ll miss you so much, he said. But it’s only one month. And then, I’ll be back just in time for summer vacation and we’ll spend plenty of time together, I promise !

- Ok, she sniffled.

- You know, when we were your age, Dad was on the road a lot too, Hailie pointed.

- And I was gone for much, much longer, Marshall recalled. So, you know, one month is not that long. And you’re going to have fun, with Mom and your sisters. I promise I’ll be back before you know it.

Lily nodded and hugged him again, not letting go. Everyone melted at the sight of the embrace and Alaina joked at how good Lily had it. Obviously, being the youngest, she didn’t realize it, but she had it far easier than her eldest sisters. It also helped that Marshall was more mellow. When it was time to go to bed, he swore to her that he’d wake her up to say goodbye. He kept his promise and, around 5AM the next day, he went to her bedroom. She was fast asleep and he stared at her for a minute, thinking of how much he would miss home. Before she woke up, he took off the silver chain necklace he wore almost everyday and placed it under her pillow, so that she’d have something of his, hoping it would make her smile when she’d find it.

- Good morning baby, he whispered as he shook her shoulder.

- Good morning Daddy, she yawned.

Her eyes were still closed, and she sleeplily reached for his hand. He stroked her cheek and smiled.

- I have to go, bug, but I wanted to say goodbye, he said softly. You take care of Winky and Mom for me, alright ?

- Yes, she promised. I’m going to miss you.

- I’m going to miss you too, sweetie, he said. I’ll call tonight, ok ?

- Ok, she said before hugging him.

He held her in his arms for a while, humming some soft lullaby and she fell back asleep. He tucked her in again and went to find you in the kitchen while you prepared coffee for him. You were also sleepy, exhausted by his last attempt to get you pregnant before his tour. He hugged you from behind and you gave in to his touch as he placed a loving hand on your stomach.

- Did you wake her up ? You asked.

- Yeah, I said goodbye, he nodded. She went back to sleep, though. As should you.

- I’m not letting you go until I absolutely have too, you yawned as you nuzzled his neck.

- I’ll miss you girls, he said. And that little guy, too.

- Winky ? You asked.

- Nope, the baby, he said as he stroked your stomach. It worked this time. I know it. I’m sure.

- Oh yeah ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. I guess we’ll know by the time you come home.

[su8arandspite]

Show Me

Summary: When Steve and Robin bail on you, you’re left alone with Eddie for the first time and you want him to teach you how to play the guitar. But you find it hard to focus. Or, alternatively, the one in which you find out why Eddie Munson keeps handcuffs in his bedroom and what those stains on his mattress really are.

eddie munson x afab!reader, steve harrington x afab!reader (implied)

Warnings and content: 18+ mdni, smut, mentions of the ud, canon-compliant brief gore, eddie lives!post st4, alcohol and drug use, use of restraints, squirting, limited physical descriptions of reader (though I think I inferred long hair), no use of y/n, reader loves journey bc me too

A/N: i was absolutely drunk when i wrote this ngl. it’s shameless filth, and i am not sorry. this is my first good faith effort to write in second person, so y/n is used only sparingly. inspired by the fun, spicy lil details in eddie’s room. this was originally a steve x reader x eddie threesome piece but it was simply too long, so who knows, part 2??

Word count: 9.6k

divider cr: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

It was a Saturday night tradition. After a particularly mind-numbing shift at Family Video, you, Steve, and Robin were always in desperate need of some fun. Really, it was a miracle that Keith even let the three of you work the same shift, given the especially sloppy work you produced when presented with the distractions of your best friends. As much as you loathed Keith, you supposed you might as well use his apparent –albeit inappropriate– fondness for you to your advantage. After the first time Eddie called the store during your combined shifts, the routine formed easily: the second that the last customer left and the door was locked, the three of you piled into Steve’s BMW to meet Eddie at his trailer for a well-deserved joint or some shots of tequila, maybe a bit of both if the day was particularly unbearable.

Tonight, though, your friends seemed to have other ideas. It was Robin who first broke the routine. She burst into the store with a guilty grin and a rushed explanation about the maybe-date she had with Vicki. And, okay, you could admit that you were happy for her. The excited rush in her voice and dusting of pink in her cheeks made it hard to be too mad at Robin. Beaming, she nudged you in the arm:

“Besides, who wouldn’t want a night alone with Eddie and this dingus?”

You turned to glance at Steve, hiding the flush this brought to your cheeks. A sinking feeling settled deep within your belly as you caught sight of the giggly girl leaning her torso against the checkout counter. She batted her eyelashes at Steve, twirling her hair around her finger. You hadn’t needed to hear them to know that Steve was asking her out on another date that you were uncertain he even actually wanted to go on. For someone who claimed to hate it, Steve sure did seem to have quite a bit of mindless sex. Not that you wanted to think about Steve’s sex life, or him with his shirt off or– No. You pushed away the image before it could fully form in your mind.

“Whatever,” Turning back to Robin, you rolled your eyes. “Now, are you gonna help me restock the shelves, or should we risk leaving it for Steve?”

Chuckling, she nodded and followed you to the stockroom to grab the carts filled with the new arrivals. Both of you took one and wheeled it off to different parts of the store. You hummed to yourself as you lugged the heavy container towards the next genre. It was in the middle of your whispered rendition of “Lights” that Steve finally made his way over to help you.

He shot you a grin as he gripped the cart, taking it from you. You eyed him skeptically, raising an eyebrow:

“Someone looks happy,” you teased. “Did my tip to recommend Pretty in Pink get you a date again?”

Steve’s warm laughter filled the store over the radio playing through the loudspeakers. “That obvious, huh?”

You shrugged. Casually, you tell him: “There’s this little quirk to your lips that gives you away.”

Steve stared at you for a brief moment, surprised, but averted his gaze before you turned your torso back to him and grabbed another VHS. Shifting his weight, Steve rubbed his hand over his chin.

“Don’t worry, kid,” said Steve, unable to avoid a grin at the nickname. He gave you The Karate Kid Part II to put in the new release section. “I promise I’ll still drive you to Munson’s, okay?”

“Wait,” You paused, whirring back to gape at him. “What do you mean, ‘drive’ me? Steve, please tell me you’re not bailing, too!”

Steve broke out into a sheepish grin. You tossed your hands up in exasperation. While you busied herself with visibly pouting, you missed the knowing smirk that Steve gave in response.

You blinked at him. Robin, you understood; she’d been dancing around taking this plunge with Vicki for ages, but Steve…? Well, you didn’t know why that bothered you, but you suddenly found yourself filled with jealousy towards the stranger with her forced Valley Girl accent and ugly purple top. Unwilling to admit that, you instead focused on the other idea stirring your nerves. Robin wasn’t coming to smoke that night, nor was Steve. That just left you... And Eddie. It would be the first Saturday Smoke Nights without all four of you there. 

The thought made your tummy flip. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie– in fact, he had quickly become one of your closest friends. Still, something about the idea of spending time truly alone with him for the first time since, well, since the Upside Down, sent your heart aflutter. 

You thought about canceling the whole thing until everyone was free. Except, when you floated the idea to him, Steve wasn’t having any of it. 

“Maybe I should just call it a night, then,” you shrugged.

“No,” he shook his head firmly. “I’m driving you.”

Steve shot an odd look your way as he pushed the cart of tapes to be reshelved towards the Action section. You followed closely behind him, holding two tapes at a time and replacing them on the shelves.

That was how you found yourself sitting on Eddie’s bed while he deliberated over the two movies you had swiped from Family Video to watch that night— Airplane! or Teen Wolf. Not that you could care less; it was only a matter of time before you and Eddie weren’t sober enough to really care.

After a moment, Eddie looked up from the VHS cases with a brow quirked. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “How do you expect me to choose between two such riveting pieces of cinema?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, we had to pick something that Keith wouldn’t notice went missing.” 

Eddie shrugged. “Werewolves it is, then.”

While Eddie held up the selected tape and carried it over to the VCR player, you rose to your feet. You adjusted your skirt as you stood, pulling the plaid material a little further down over your thighs. The white tank top that you had put on before work looked more see-through than you remembered it being without the oversized green vest of your employee uniform over it. With that shedded in the passenger seat of Steve’s car, the lacy black bra which you threw on that morning popped against the white.

“Hey, Eds,” you called out. ”You got any popcorn?”

Eddie spared you a glance, a finger suspended in the air over the play button. His breath hitched at the sight of you. He wondered if you knew how good you looked or if you meant to waste it on the renters at work. Or him, for that matter. Swallowing thickly, he told you about the Jiffy Pop he had waiting for you on the stove, and stared after you once your figure disappeared from sight.

When you returned to Eddie’s bedroom, snacks and drinks in hand, he was oddly quiet. You paused for a moment, your eyes scanning his face for signs of what was going on in that head of his. You bent to set the popcorn bowl on the floor by his feet and handed Eddie a beer. The tension in the room was palpable. It pushed you to plop yourself down in the space next to him. You watched the opening credits rolling on Eddie’s shitty TV as you settled into this new position, criss-crossing your legs. 

Your palms slapped against your thighs as you rallied his attention. “Okay,” you said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get wasted.”

Eddie snickered. “Okay, princess,” he cooed. “As you wish.”

A delicious calm washed over your body as your high set in. The beer was shitty and slightly warm from not being in the trailer’s refrigerator long enough, but it was the best you two could scrounge up in Hawkins. It warmed you up and, more to the point, got the job done anyways. By the time you had a couple beers and half a joint in your system, the movie was over, and you felt more comfortable being alone with Eddie. 

Your fingers ghosted over the tops of the cases as you sifted through Eddie’s cassette collection. It took a while for you to find something familiar. You waited until Eddie was in the bathroom to switch the stereo to Journey so that he couldn’t protest the change.

You spun around the room, strumming your fingers in the air against an invisible guitar. It was in the midst of this little solo act that Eddie returned. He leaned against the doorframe so as not to disturb you, a small grin overtaking him. Eddie’s eyes flickered to your hips subconsciously as the movement swished your mini skirt upwards; the sight gave him just enough of a show to stir up tantalizing thoughts about the soft skin of your upper thighs and up until they disappeared under your panties. His impure thoughts brought a dopey smile to his face. It was then that you noticed his presence.

Upon realizing that you had been caught, your cheeks heated. A small squeak passed your lips. You stopped dancing abruptly, hair falling like a curtain over your face. 

“Please,” said Eddie. “Don’t stop on my account.” 

Suddenly shy, you shrugged. “Shit, you scared me! But,” Your lips curled into a demure smile, “I thought you were the rockstar, Eds. Wouldn’t wanna steal your limelight”

He shrugged, “I don’t mind sharing, angel.”

You hummed. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you blurted out unfiltered thoughts:

“You know, your hair’s almost as awesome as Steve Perry’s.”

Not this again. Eddie cocked an eyebrow, “Almost?”

You shrugged, a coy smile playing over your lips. “Just a little less silky.”

Pushing your hair away from your face, you narrowed your eyes at him. You sauntered over to the bed and collapsed yourself down onto it. Your eyes flickered from his hands to his tongue as he pushed it out to wet his lips. Getting comfortable, you shifted on the bed, tucking your legs up further underneath yourself. Your hands rested patiently over your thighs as you tilted your head. 

“Hey, Eddie,” you said. “Will you teach me how to play guitar? I mean, how else am I gonna become a rockstar?”

His lips quirked up at this. “Sure,” Eddie nodded. “Most songs are three simple chords, anyways.” He lifted his hands to strum at an invisible guitar of his own. You couldn’t quite focus on his explanation with his hands moving like that.

 “Okay, teach. I’m all ears,” you looked up at him with wide eyes, leaning forward with your elbows against your thighs and chin resting in your palms.

Eddie marched over to the wall where his guitar hung in its place of honor. He slung the strap over his shoulder, grabbed a stray guitar pick from the desk and placed it between his lips, before taking center stage in the middle of the room.

“Now,” Eddie began. “First, you’ve just gotta learn three simple chords: D, C, and G.”

He positioned his fingers, one at a time, over the strings in the correct position. The tip of his tongue poked out between his teeth in concentration. Even as crossfaded as you both were, Eddie wanted to impress you. After all, it wasn’t every day that he had a beautiful girl sitting on his bed, and he planned to milk the moment for all it was worth. So, he did his best to look cool and, if he was lucky, maybe you would ask him to teach you again. Eddie slowed the chord down to illustrate the correct posture. He played each of the three a few times then in succession.

“Then, when you put them all together, eventually, you get a little something like this–” Eddie strummed the iconic guitar solo of “Don’t Stop Believin’.” He thanked God for the liquid courage that allowed him to play Journey for you, like he hadn’t memorized the song just because he knew you were into them. Thank Ozzy for alcohol and weed or whatever it was that kept you from pointing out that Journey wasn’t exactly metal enough for Eddie’s usual taste.

And you meant to pay attention, you really did, but your brain turned into mush at the sight of Eddie truly in his element. You could think of nothing but the quick pace of his fingers. The thick rings he wore just on the cusp of his knuckles demanded attention. You bet they would feel cool against your skin, flushed and chest heaving, while he— pay attention. You swallowed around your cottony throat. White heat snaked up your spine as your mind wandered to thoughts of what else those skilled fingers of his could do. You shifted slightly in your seat. The room suddenly felt stuffy enough to run your mouth dry.

The sound of Eddie’s voice calling your name pulled you from her reverie. “Hmm?” Your eyes drifted slowly up to his face. “Are you even listening to me?”

You blinked your eyelashes up at him. WIth a faint smile, you tilted your cheek to rest against your shoulder. “Sorry,” you muttered. “Uh, can you show me that last one again? D, wasn’t it?”

“C, actually,” he corrected. “‘S something on your mind?”

“Oh, uh, I–“

You failed to think of an excuse, but you certainly couldn’t tell him what you were really thinking. Instead, you opened and closed your jaw, unsure.

Eddie let his hands fall to his sides. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “What’s a matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

The burst of warmth this brought to your cheeks gave him confidence. Eddie gently shrugged his guitar from around his shoulders and set it aside. You could only watch, eyes wide, as he strode your way.

He moved to sit beside you with his hands laid flat against the bed to support him, one on each side of you like a lanky cage, and his tall stature leaning over you. Eddie’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips. As he leaned forward, the guitar pick which he wore around his neck swung forwards to tap against the exposed skin of your shoulder.

When you didn’t respond, Eddie continued: “You wanna know what I think?”

With Eddie so close, you struggled to think of anything at all. The weed mixed with Eddie’s cologne— since when did he wear that?— and made your head swim even faster. You barely registered the words as they left your lips, “What’s that?”

Eddie sucked his teeth, a low rumble of a chuckle rippling through his chest as he leaned in to drop his lips to your ear. His hair tickled the skin of your neck. Gooseflesh rippled over you as his hot breath met your ear, “I think you’d rather watch”

You swallowed thickly. There was little time to compose yourself, though you tried, as Eddie leaned back against his palms, flattening them to give himself a better view. The expectant way in which he looked at you made you melt like putty under his hot, hungry gaze. Eddie reveled in the way you averted your eyes, embarrassed, and knowing you’d been caught. His big brown eyes gleamed. 

Lamely, you shoved at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“That’s not a no.”

“I–“

You went to call him an asshole but lost your train of thought entirely. The quip died in your throat as a flash of something shiny in your peripheral vision caught your eye. It was your turn to smile devilishly at him as you realized what it was. 

Eddie frowned at the dip of the bed as you rose to your feet and stepped away from him. His gaze followed your saunter as you tiptoed over a copy of Heavy Metal magazine and a pile of cassette tapes to stop before the wall.

You lifted up the silver object with one finger. Turning to the boy, your lip curled devilishly into a knowing smirk. Eddie knew he should have been embarrassed or something, probably needed to come up with some plausible excuse for why he kept handcuffs in his bedroom. Maybe you would buy it if he said he was trying a hand at being an amateur magician? No, that was lame. He wanted to be a cop? Yeah, right! He certainly couldn’t tell you that he liked to use his hands in bed and, sometimes, he wanted to be the only one doing that. Could he?

“You know,” you lifted your eyes from the cuffs to meet Eddie’s. “My big brother’s a cop.”

The way that you twirled them around in circles stirred up something within Eddie. This, along with the plump pout of your lips, left Eddie suddenly very turned on. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he said lamely.

“Well, then, Eddie, baby, you should know that he also taught me a little trick about how to get out of them.” You pulled at each loop of the cuffs until the chain was taut. “Do you want me to show you how?”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to stare and squirm. The suggestive tone to your voice rendered him speechless. He nodded dumbly. Your lips curved upwards devilishly. Mimicking his tone from earlier, you teased: “Cat got your tongue?

“Put ‘em on for me?”

Eddie swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. He rose to his feet at your command. Your hands brushed as he took the restraints from the end of your finger. You blinked up at him expectantly as you pushed your wrists together in front of yourself. The cuffs bound your wrists as one with a resounding click. Eddie took a step back to admire his work. You looked so damn pretty with your hands all bound up for him, your wide eyes the icing on the cake.

“Wait,” Eddie shook his head. He gripped your wrists in one hand, stilling them before you had a chance to show him your trick. “Keep them on”

The mere sight of you in his cuffs made Eddie’s cock stir within his jeans.

“Perfect,” he muttered. The remark was more to himself than anything. It made you dizzy nonetheless.

Eddie didn’t know where his newfound confidence came from–the weed, maybe, or the shine in your eyes as you looked at him– but it was welcomed either way. Playful banter and a flair for the dramatics were his bread and butter, sure, but this? Flirting with you and unabashedly ogling you in his cuffs was something Eddie never saw happening outside of his perverted fantasies. Whatever pushed him to do it, he was chuffed that he had the courage to say what he did next.

His thumb and forefinger pinched your chin, lifting it upwards to force your gaze upon him. “You didn’t really want me to show you how to play the guitar, did you?” he clicked his tongue. “No, you wanted me to teach you what my fingers can do to you”

Then his thumb pushed at your mouth, tapping against your pillowy lower lip. He applied gentle pressure to it, just enough not to push its way inside. “Is that what you want, angel?” A whine rumbled deep within you. You could only nod dumbly in response. Eddie clicked his tongue, head shaking. “Sorry, what was that? Can’t hear you”

“Yes.” That was all the confirmation Eddie needed. He pressed his thumb firmly so that it opened your mouth for him. Your tongue lapped at the intruder, teasingly, as you sucked him in. Eddie all but melted at the sensation and his cock responded similarly, his dirty thoughts racing with desire for that mouth of yours.

He jerked his head towards the bed. “Sit.” You obeyed readily and sat on the end of his mattress, legs dangling off the edge, and spread your knees wide for him. 

Eddie bunched your skirt up with his fists and flipped it upwards on your hips. This gave him an eyeful of skimpy lacy panties that the skirt hardly covered to begin with. Christ. A whine escaped him at the filthy sight. He pushed your thighs as wide apart as he could by the knee. His hands ghosted over your skin from the knee up to the thickest parts of your thigh. He grabbed at the fleshy part of leg just below your ass.

He pushed aside your panties with his thumb to expose your wetness to him. A slow, shaky exhale escaped him as he dragged his finger through the slick and back up to rub sloppy circles against your clit. This made your breath hitch in your throat. Your mouth hung open with the silent whine threading to spill out. 

Eddie’s Cheshire Cat grin only grew as he stretched his long fingers out to hook into the fabric of your underwear, keeping as much contact as he could with your clit, until he managed to yank them down your thighs and around the left ankle. Swiftly, and so smoothly that you didn’t even notice, he tucked the lacy material in the front pocket of his jeans. For later.

“Kiss me,” your voice sounded like a true angel whispering to him. His nickname for you had never felt more apt.

Eddie’s fingers never ceased on your clit as he dipped his head down to press his lips against your cheek. He mumbled a slew of praises and compliments against your skin as he mapped a trail along your jawbone to your neck, pausing to suckle a deep hickey on the jugular and ghost against your clavicle. Only when his name passed your saccharine lips did he give you what you wanted and press his mouth hungrily to yours.

As you melted into his touch, you breathed a happy sigh against him. You kissed every last inch of nerves and desire away into his waiting mouth. Eddie swallowed it readily. His mind buzzed with the hazy static of lust and illicit substances until he could no longer hear Steve Perry’s voice thrumming in the background. He thought maybe his heart was going to take flight. Deep unfiltered want drove Eddie as he added a second and third finger to your clit and increased the pace. He blinked through heavy lids as you twitched involuntarily at the sheer pleasure.

From the moment he laid eyes on you, Eddie was a hopeless fool for you. You were exactly the beautiful, smart, warm breath of air that he needed. His heart ached for you with each brush of your hands as you both reached for a kernel of popcorn from the same bowl during movie nights with your friends. That had been enough for him up until now; Eddie would take as much or as little of you as you wanted to offer him. Even if tonight turned out to be just another one of his elaborate fantasies, he’d die a happy man—he seemed to have more and more vivid images of you in all your sunny glory as of late, the filthy thoughts flooding his mind in the quiet moments when he was truly alone and his hand wandered on its own accord towards the waistband of his underwear. He had it bad for you, and Eddie didn’t want it any other way.

Though you couldn’t reach your hands up to card through his hair as you so desperately wanted to, you caught his attention just the same with nothing but those sweet lips of yours. He chased after your touch as you pulled away from the kiss, head shaking just faintly. The buck of your hips against him spoke for you.

Only, instead of taking your lead, his touch left you altogether. Eddie stared at you with heavy-lidded eyes, awestruck. His fingers drew shapes over your clavicle, inching over to your shoulder. The band of your bra strap snapped as he lifted it and let it flick back into place. Eddie hooked his finger under it once more but made no further moves.

“Can I?”

“Please,” you nodded.

Eddie pushed the straps off your shoulders, taking the tank top down with them. Gently, he propped you up enough to get the fabric up and over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him. With the dip of his head, Eddie leaned down to kiss the swell of your breasts just above the lace of the bra you wore, as he reached behind you to unclasp it once and for all. Before you knew it, that too was long forgotten. You laid bare on Eddie’s mattress, covered only with your skirt that was still bunched up around your hips.

He cupped your face in his hands. Your stomach flipped at the thrill of feeling your own arousal against your cheek. His voice and his grip forced your eyes on his.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled. “A goddamn vision.”

There was an unmistakable fondness in his voice that made you feel warm inside with an emotion you couldn’t name. It only grew as he snaked one hand down your stomach and towards your core again, the other kneading your breast.

Ripples of pleasure rolled through you as he returned his thumb to its rightful place against your clit and pinched your nipples, rolling each between his fingers one at a time. You whimpered, hips bucking, and craving more and more of him.

The grin on his lips only grew at your silent begging. He lifted his hand, spitting on his fingertips, before bringing it back down to your dripping sex. It made an obscene sound as he gathered some of your arousal for good measure, toying with your entrance.

Slowly, Eddie pushed the very tip of his middle finger inside of you. His ring finger soon followed, and he twisted his wrist so that his palm now faced the ceiling. You writhed under him, craving more, but were unable to find it; his other hand gripped harshly at your hip to keep you in place. Only once he had you good and still did he push his fingers deeper. The thick rings he wore were cool against the fluttering heat of your body. He curled his fingers deliciously upwards. They only just brushed against your most pleasurable spot at first, leaving you just out of reach, teased.

You babbled at him. The sound of your own voice begging sounded far away, “Eddie, Eds, please”

Who was he to refuse you? “Well,” Eddie tutted. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Eddie knelt with his thighs pushed up against the mattress. He was close enough that your Achilles’ tendon brushed over the tattered denim of his jeans. But you wanted him closer yet. He still felt so very far away. Just as you mustered the core strength to pull yourself up without the aid of your hands, he moved his free hand from your hips to splay over your lower stomach, just above the pubic bone. It forced you back against the mattress, dumbfounded. You were fully at his mercy as he worked to fuck his fingers into you. They pushed slowly inside of you, down to the base and out again at a snail’s pace. He pushed them in faster, this time, only to the knuckle and curling them.

The added pressure of his hand on your stomach coupled with the speed of his movements ensured that every move hit you in a way that left you breathless. Eddie seemed to know your body like it was his, quickly finding the spongy area inside you that made your mind empty save the pleasure he was giving you. It was an electric spark that spread from your very core and threatened to burn you to pieces. You gasped at the sensation– a weak little sound that faded out into silent cries of pleasure.

And oh was that just the thing Eddie had been needing to hear all night. His own breath quickened as he doubled his efforts. The pace at which he thrusted his fingers was brutal and delicious. You mewled, unable to form a coherent thought that didn’t include Eddie and his magic fingers.

Each curl of his fingers caused the exposed skin under his tattoos to flex, and it looked so hot. Your eyes were drawn to the way his veins popped with the movement, and the sight nearly had you drooling. Every one of your senses was overwhelmed with him: his touch was unlike anything you could have anticipated, the shaky, aroused breaths that escaped him and the pornographic squelching sound of his fingertips each time he thrusted them into you made you dizzy, and you turned your head to whine into the mattress and breathed in his scent like it was pure oxygen. Eddie was everything. 

Your toes curled and your legs began to shake. “Eddie, ‘m gonna– fuckk, I–“

“Yeah?” He tutted. “Let go, sweetheart.”

His soothing voice and unrelenting cadence made it difficult for you to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. The tugging warmth of your orgasm that had been building surged until it was all-encompassing; intense pleasure slammed you all at once. Every ounce of tension left your body as you came around his fingers.

Eddie kept his fingers tapped against just the right spot as you rode out your orgasm. He lazily rubbed the heel of his hand against your very sensitive clit. Unable to help himself, he palmed at his erection with the other as he watched you come undone. 

You’d had orgasms before, but never anything remotely like what Eddie was doing to you. The familiar knot in your stomach was there as it built, but it was accompanied by something else— another type of pressure that was foreign to you. He left you no time to dwell on it, because you were coming before you could even really process it. When you finally did, it was a release unlike any other.

You hardly noticed it at first, but once you started to return to your senses, you felt something wet between your thighs that hadn’t been there before. Leaning up, you tried to get a glance at it. Your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed, as you saw what a mess you’d made. The bedsheets and—oh, God— Eddie’s forearm and parts of his pants were soaked. 

When you managed to look at him again, locking eyes, he was smug. There was no sign of disgust or surprise anywhere. He looked proud, almost.

“Eddie,” you said, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what… I’ve never done that before.”

Only you weren’t entirely sure what it was that Eddie had done to you, just that it was the most intense euphoria in the world.

He smiled at you in a way that made it hard for you to feel insecure. Like you were a work of art; his masterpiece, even. Eddie rubbed his clean hand against your cheek, gently stroking your skin with his thumb.

“It’s okay, angel,” he reassured you. “You’ve never squirted before?“

You hesitated. The term sounded vaguely familiar to you, like maybe you’d once heard your girlfriends whispering about it, but you didn’t think it was real. Hell, no other boy you’d ever been with had even come close to making you orgasm at all, so this was entirely uncharted territory. It left you wondering where the hell Eddie fucking Munson had been hiding those skills all this time.

“No,” you shook your head. “But it felt really good.”

“I’m glad,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the blooming hickey he sucked on your neck earlier. “Just wanna make you feel so good. Such a good girl.”

He breathed in your scent like he was trying to commit it to memory. Eddie stayed with his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck for only a moment. He was leaning back up all too soon.

Finally, Eddie pulled his fingers from you and held them up to the light. His lips curved as he admired the way your slick glistened, thick as he separated his index and middle fingers. A deep hum left him as he lifted his hand to his waiting mouth and licked them clean. 

“You taste so fuckin’ amazing,” he groaned.

“Yeah?” You asked, though your head still swam with the haze of your orgasm.

“Think it might be my new favorite dessert,” he confirmed.

Your heart flipped. Though you assumed he was only teasing, Eddie knew just what to say to render you speechless. You couldn’t get enough.

Eddie lowered himself onto the mattress next to you. As he propped himself up by the elbow, he brushed some hair from your face. His umber eyes were dark with lust-blown pupils.

Though your cheeks still burned, you grinned mischievously as a memory creeped up on you. It was probably something you should have forgotten, what with everything you had all been through since March of 1986, but you could still hear Eddie clear as day in your mind, see his doe eyes widen as he glanced nervously at you over Robin’s shoulder:

“Those stains are, uh… I don’t know what those stains are”

Gently, you nudged Eddie to get his attention, as if there were anywhere or anything else in the world that it would be.

“So,” you locked eyes with him. “That’s what those stains are, huh?”

Eddie chuckled. It was a full belly laugh that had his shoulders shaking in amusement. He shook his head fondly at you.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what the stains are.”

Well, that and bong water, —mostly the latter— but he thought it sounded more impressive if you thought of him as some sort of sex god.

You hummed in recognition. 

Eddie smiled at you. He gripped the hem of his shirt in his fingers and toyed with it, chewing on his lower lip. 

“You know,” he said. “I’m feelin’ a little overdressed here, don’t ya think?”

“You are entirely overdressed.”

You’re unable to fight off a smile. Eddie sat up again and reached to pull his shirt up and over his head. It fell in a heap beside the mattress. As he started on his belt, you let your eyes take in the marvelous sight of him.

His skin was pale and his long torso seemed to go on forever. The black ink of his tattoos and healed scars popped against his flesh, the largest of which spanned across his stomach, just over the naval, and blended into the beginnings of his happy trail.

Eddie and you had never discussed that fateful night in the Upside Down. It was easier that way than to admit  your nightmares were still mostly plagued by the overwhelming fear you’d felt as you and Dustin carried his limp body back to the base camp in that stolen RV and in the weeks you spent nursing him back from the brink of death. Eddie’s heart slowed to a pace so imperceptible he swore it had stopped and, for the briefest of moments, he was on the other side. He knew he should have died that day and that, really, he supposed a part of him had. 

Perhaps for the first time since then, Eddie didn’t feel nervous or hesitant to reveal himself, scars and all, to someone else. Because it was you, after all. You, who had cursed at him through teary eyes for his monumentally stupid need to play hero and had somehow managed to remain calm enough to stem the bleeding, then scoured through the vehicle for something to sew him up with. It had been you who shooed Dustin out of the room, at least enough to shield the boy from the gruesome sight of your shaky hands as they crudely stitched him back together well enough to last until Steve and Robin and the others returned to regroup. He knew then, even in his weakest state, that he was in trouble because the flutter of your eyelashes made his sluggish heart ache.  As he looked at you now, your eyes blinking up at him, Eddie realized he never stood a fighting chance when it came to you. He supposed it was impossible not to fall in love with you, the angel who had saved his life, as he drifted in and out of consciousness. And every moment since then. He had called you his angel ever since.

You kissed a trail from the scars by his chest, down his tummy, and the one that disappeared under his boxer briefs. His skin was warm but erupted into goosebumps at your touch. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat as you craned your neck further down to peck an open-mouthed kiss where the head of his aching cock strained against the fabric.

Suddenly, he’s stopping you. Eddie’s hands cupped your cheeks, gently pushing your face away from him. The flash of hurt in your eyes must have been clear because he immediately softened his gaze, stroking your face lovingly with his thumbs.

“What’s wrong?” Confused, you glanced from the tent in his groin back to his eyes. “Do you not want to?”

“No!” Eddie cut you off, maybe a little too quickly and too loudly. He cleared his throat to recover, playing it off as a cough. “No, believe me, I really do. Fuck, if I’m bein’ honest, angel, I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you in that boathouse. But, right now, I just really want to taste you. It’s a need, actually”

Eddie wasn’t done with you yet. No, tonight, he wasn’t letting up until he made his sweet little angel come against his lips, clenching around his fingers, and, finally, around his cock. Only then, after he took everything you had to give, would Eddie allow himself to come.

This confession rendered you speechless. A meek oh was all you could make out. Though he smiled down at you, a hunger swirled in his eyes that had you feeling he wanted to swallow you whole, and God, you wished that he would. 

Even so, he made no further moves to act on it. His hands itched as he slid them from your face, down your chest and waist, before gripping at your thighs. He tilted his head, blinking expectantly at you. 

“So, uh, can I? Eat you out?”

“Fuck, yes,” you nodded. “I’d be offended if you didn’t, now.”

Eddie didn’t waste another second. He pressed himself down against the mattress, lowering his face closer to the apex of your thighs, and tightened his grip on your flesh, swiftly yanking you closer to his waiting lips. They were wet and warm as he peppered kiss after kiss up the insides of both your upper thighs, nipping at the soft skin there. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you wiggled your hips to chase his touch.

His breath hit your sopping core as he let out a quiet chuckle. Eddie nudged his nose foreword, just barely brushing it against the hood of your clit, dragging it down to your wetness.

He hummed, “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“Eddie, I swear to–“

Your empty threat dissolved as he relented. Eddie shifted his grip to spread your lips open for him, thighs now caged in the crooks of his elbows. It’s when he wrapped his lips around your clitoris that the shock of pleasure shot through your spine and took the words from you. He sighed into your core and let himself push closer to it, almost smothering himself. 

Eddie intermittently flitted his tongue out as he suckled at your clit. His mouth worked at the perfect rhythm and if you’d had the presence of mind to listen past the hammering of your heart in your chest, you would have been able to make out the tune he was humming; ‘Open Arms’ was surely for your benefit. 

With his arms wrapped tightly around your hips, you had no choice but to ignore the urge to buck your hips against him. You got only what Eddie gave you, and good God, would you take every last ounce of pleasure hungrily.

After what could have been minutes, hours, or mere seconds —you couldn’t tell— Eddie broke his lips’ seal from your clit and let his nose take their place against it as he breathed out. He’s only off of you long enough to let out a low rumbling chuckle, asking: “Hm, what was that, angel?” 

But you’re unable to answer him, because Eddie’s reattaching his lips to you and sucking with more intention than before. You couldn’t remember what you were saying even if you wanted to. Your mind was wiped of everything outside of him. Eddie Eddie Eddie. Your thoughts were a chorus of his name and him only. Eddie!

You had little presence of mind left to be embarrassed about it, as your second orgasm snuck up faster than the first. You were already close, barely able to contain your whines and sweet sighs any longer. Eddie seemed to sense this, and shifted his right hand from his death grip on your thighs—which would surely bruise, you noted with a twinge of excitement—and prodded two of his fingers at your entrance.

He licked lazily at your clit between words, remarking, “Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

He plunged his fingers inside finally, curving them again to find the spot he’d discovered earlier. His lips had only just returned to their rightful spot around your clit when your release hit you.

 Eddie didn't let up on his suckling until you were still again, a broken sound falling from your lips. You pushed at his head as best as your restraints allowed, trying to wriggle away from the overstimulation. “‘S too much, Eds,” you pleaded.

He pulled himself away with a wet smack of his lips. Eddie wiped your arousal from his face with the back of his hand, though not without sucking it clean off his fingers. The grin he gives you is a delicate mix of devilish and heavenly.

Eddie crawled up the bed, long, alabaster torso towering over you as he planted his knees at either side of you. His fingers fanned out over your face and cupped your cheeks.

“You okay?” His eyes softened.

“More than okay,” you assured with a breathy giggle.

“Good,” Eddie said.

You could barely think. Not with your body still humming from your earth-shattering orgasm and not with Eddie’s big Bambi eyes blinking at you with such softness and deep affection. It made you feel like you were being seen for the very first time. 

He couldn’t help the smile on his lips as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips. It was gentler than before and he tasted of your slick, a fact that elicited a soft groan from your chest. Eddie swallowed it up. His guitar-calloused thumb stroked your cheek as he titled his head to deepen the kiss. It was passionate, sensual, and every brush of his tongue against yours stoked the butterflies in your tummy. There was a certain sweetness behind it, too, that you weren’t used to. The type of need that Eddie was oozing ran far deeper than lust alone.

It was Eddie who broke the kiss, panting to catch his breath and nuzzling his nose against your cheek. His cheeks swelled as he broke out into the fondest of smiles. You softened under the weight of his heady gaze.

Your entire body ached for him. Eddie may have been content to focus on your pleasure all night long, but you thought you might die if you didn’t get the privilege of returning that favor. 

Growing impatient, you were desperate to make Eddie feel good. You straddled Eddie as smoothly as you could, settling yourself in his lap. You locked eyes with him and kept your gaze steady as you pressed your dripping core harder into his erection, slowly dragging it for friction as much as his grip would allow. A low growl came from him as he blinked up at you with his wide chocolate eyes. A greedy hand grabbed at your ass, as the other lifted your wrists to his face. Eddie pecked soft kisses to your knuckles, the heel of your palm, and just above the metal cuffs. He pulled back just enough to see you properly, still stroking your hands with his.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he told you. Eddie’s smile never wavered. It had been a joke, but he meant it; part of him wouldn’t mind if you ripped his lovesick little heart from his chest and never bothered to give it back. He would let you with a smile.

He was painfully hard; you could feel it with every rock of your hips against his. The deep ache within him felt like your own, like every throb of his cock was your heartbeat.

“Eddie,” you whined. “Baby, please, I wanna make you feel good now”

Something inside his head short-circuited at the filthy words leaving your sweet, vanilla-scented lips. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered to himself. With a heavy swallow, Eddie nodded. He gripped your hips tightly.

His thumb drew mindless shapes against your skin. “Think you can handle more?”

“Mhmm,” a breathy moan escaped you at the feeling of his cock twitching beneath you.

“Tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

You gave a single nod, “Yes. I will– just, please, Eddie, I want you to fuck me.”

Eddie planted a searing kiss to your lips. He pulled you from his lap and set you down on the bed next to him. You watched with awe as he finally pulled his boxer briefs off and kicked them away. A rush of want swam around your head and in your core as you took in the heavenly sight of his nude form for the first time. 

You truly weren’t prepared for just how perfect he was. The tip of his dick was a needy red, painfully erect, and dripping with pre-come; the length curved to the left and was just the right girth.

The kiss he pressed to your lips once he’d fully stepped out of his jeans was sweet and short. He kicked the fabric aside and leaned further into you, gently using the force of the kiss to guide you back against the mattress. Eddie’s left hand pushed your cuffed wrists over your head, where he wanted them, while he pumped himself a few times with his right.

“Ready, angel?” He asked. 

This time, Eddie accepts the slow nod you give him. He tapped his tip against your swollen clit, lips curling devilishly at the whine that escaped you. Tease. Eddie gave you very little time to feel sorry for yourself before giving you what you needed.

With one slow, measured movement of his hips, Eddie thrusted fully forward. He planted his palms against the mattress to hold himself up and get better control. His breathing was shallow and ragged, eyes squeezing shut, at the feeling of your pussy adjusting and stretching to accommodate the curve of him. The stretch was a sweet ache, and you’d never felt so full. If you’d thought Eddie was everywhere before, he was the only thing now.

His hips pistoned into you at an unrelenting pace. After so long of ignoring his own need, Eddie chased any relief he could get. And this, burying himself balls-deep inside you, was better than any drug in existence; it made him feel like a virgin all over again. A string of expletives left his lips that would have confused you if you had enough presence of mind to pay attention.

Eddie lifted your hips further up, twisting just so to ensure every pump slammed into you at just the right spot. It knocked the breath out of you until your lungs burned with every gasp and whine. The curve of his cock was made for you, made to fit right against your g-spot with every pass. 

You thought of running your fingers through his hair. But, of course, when you pulled at the handcuffs, you were unable to get at him. A deep chuckle rumbled in Eddie’s chest that stoked a fire within you and reminded you exactly why you had plucked them from their hook in the first place.

Your third orgasm loomed at a rate that must have been some sort of record. Eddie had you too cock drunk to care, though. It was like you were floating and a lucid part of your brain wondered if the heat of your pleasure had set you ablaze and you were watching yourself from above. 

Eddie lifted himself away from you enough to get a good look at every inch of you— your plush lips parted in pleasure, brows furrowed, eyes glistening and pupils blown wide, the bounce of your breasts in time with his thrusts, the way his hand looked as he splayed it wide over your lower stomach, meeting just over where his cock hit your walls. He did his best to commit every last detail to memory.

His thrusts became sloppier, nearly stuttering, with the way your walls tightened. 

“You close?” He managed, but it wasn’t much of a question. “Come on, good girl, come f’r me, just one more. That’s it”

As if your words summoned it, you spasmed and contracted around him with your third and final orgasm. Your back arched clear off the mattress like a woman possessed, weak and held up largely by Eddie’s tight grip and where he was still fucking into you. The squeeze of your cunt around him was too much, and Eddie let out a guttural groan of your name as he came. His come was warm and foreign inside you.

Eddie collapsed onto you, the last of his strength he had been using to keep both of you upright finally giving out. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, panting into your sweaty skin until he caught his breath again. 

“Well,” he muttered. “Fuck. That was… fuck.” You chuckled in response and Eddie lifted his heavy head, not willing to miss a single second of it. “Yeah,” you agreed.

Eddie slowly leaned down to your bound wrists, pressing a kiss to the sore skin. 

“Here,” he helped you slowly sit upright in the bed. He pressed one last peck to your temple, then finally peeled himself away from you and his damp bed sheets. Eddie glanced around his room, ready to retrieve the key and free you, when your sweet voice pulled him back to you.

“So,” a playful smile spreaded over your lips. “You still wanna see that trick?”

Eddie hummed. He turned back to you, pulling his boxers back up to rest lowly on his hips with his eyes locked on you. His heart skittered as you blinked up at him.

“Ta-da!” you lifted your now-empty wrist to show off.

Your trick was impressive. Sure enough, you had freed your wrists from the bounds and the second cuff dangled from the chain, tapping against your forearm. If anything, it only made Eddie’s heart swell with the knowledge that you could have gotten yourself out of it at any time but you hadn’t, for him.

“Color me impressed,” he said.

Chuckling, you leaned in to him. Eddie keened, melting against the gentle touch of your newly-freed fingers against his face. Slowly, you pressed your lips to Eddie’s. The kiss was lazy, slow, and heavy. Your lungs burned as she breathed him in.

The unmistakable glow of headlights shined through the curtains as someone pulled up to the new Munson trailer. It was enough to break the delicate bubble of you and Eddie’s post-coital bliss.

Eddie grumbled, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. You lifted yourself to pull the fabric aside, taking a peek at who had pulled up. Panic inched up your spine as you recognized the car. 

“Shit,” you whispered. “Shit, Eds, it’s Steve.”

The headlights cut off, and you sprang to action. In your haste, you hadn’t paid any attention to where your clothing ended up. Your knees nearly buckled under your weight as you stood. With burning cheeks, you hushed Eddie’s cackle and could practically see his self-satisfied smirk without turning to look at him.

With Steve only moments away from catching you in far too compromising a position, you yanked your shirt as far down your hips as it would go and decided that would have to do; you couldn’t see your panties anywhere and you had no time to hunt them. Eddie, who seemed to have no trouble redressing himself, tossed your tank top to you. It was just over your head as you heard three telltale raps at the door to the trailer. 

Eddie’s long legs allowed him to rush ahead of you and lead the way to answer the door. His grin didn’t dull one bit.

“Relax, angel,” he assured you. “It’s just Steve.”

You really weren’t sure if that made you feel any better or it was somehow worse. Eddie’s touch burned as he slung an arm around your shoulders and you weren’t able to think about it any longer. 

“Harrington!” Eddie beamed at the younger man as he stepped inside the trailer.

Steve offered him an odd look at the uncharacteristically chipper tone but pushed past the pair of you and continued his beeline to the kitchen. He grumbled under his breath as he yanked open the fridge. Steve snatched the last cold beer and slammed it shut after himself.

You shared a brief glance with Eddie. Raising an eyebrow, you asked:

“I take it your date went well?”

Steve groaned again. Even his hair looked sad, drooping, as he shook his head. He opened the can and took a heavy swig. It told you everything you needed to know about his latest failed attempt at romance.

“That bad, huh?”

Eddie’s laugh is maybe a little louder than he meant for it to be, but there was no malice in his voice. Only then, as he set his beer down on the counter, did Steve properly look at you and Eddie for the first time since he arrived. It took him longer than it should have to notice something was off. When he eventually did, though, Steve’s jaw lowered. He blinked at his friends a few times as if he had somehow imagined it. 

You were worse for wear. Where you had it neatly styled when he dropped you off, your hair was tousled and messy, tank top askew on your torso. The thin fabric did little to hide your pert nipples from his sight and, holy shit, was that a hickey? Your lips were kiss-bitten and swollen, a matching set to Eddie’s, complete with spit and the gloss of your vanilla lip sheen. But all of that was nothing compared to when his gaze lowered towards your thighs. Steve struggled to look away, though he knew he should, but he was mesmerized with the sight of Eddie’s cum dripping down your thigh.

Only then, when he could still clearly see the single handcuff clasped around your wrist with its counterpart dangling at your side, did Steve say anything.

“It smells like sex in here.”

When no one responded, Steve trudged on:

“Were you two just– oh!”

Steve’s chocolate eyes widened slowly with the realization. 

You glanced over to lock eyes with Eddie. He barked out another laugh, his dimples popping with amusement.

“Sorry, Stevie,” he teased. “You just missed the show.”

Your fist didn’t even budge him as you smacked Eddie square in the chest for his lewd comment. He gently caught your wrist and snaked your fingers around his to hold your hand.

“Wait,” Steve flitted his eyes between you and Eddie. He called your name softly. “Is this why you didn’t want me to drive you here?”

“No!” You shook your head. “No, I just, uh, didn’t want you to feel like you had to or anything.”

Steve knit his eyebrows. “You’re never a burden, kid.”

Steve’s pretty face pinkened as he took in your disheveled appearance once more. You pulled uselessly at your skirt, as if it might grow longer. He hadn’t noticed he was staring until you squirmed under the heat of his gaze.

Eddie slung his arm around your shoulders easily, pulling you close. Cocking an eyebrow, he called, “Aw, Harrington, you’re just jealous I got to her first.”

“Wait, what?” You glanced between the two boys, brow furrowing.

The glances they shared conveyed some secret conversation you didn’t understand. You raised your brows, asking one of them to clue you in on their little secret.

Steve didn’t deny it when Eddie spoke for him:

“He thinks you’re pretty,” he batted his eyelashes at you, teasing.

“Fuck off, Eddie,” Steve whined. He turned to you, dipping his chin shyly. “But I, uh, yeah.”

It was just a fact. You were beautiful, and Steve didn’t see why he should have to pretend that was a secret.

Your stomach flipped. 

“Okay, well,” you stepped out of Eddie’s grasp and towards Steve. You picked his beer up from the counter and drank from it. Gently, you squeezed his shoulder and grinned. “Thanks for the ride, Steve.”

Steve’s pretty face darkened to scarlet, sparkly eyes blinking rapidly. He swallowed thickly and muttered out a weak response. You had them both watching your every movement as you carried the beer towards the living room.

“Now,” you called over your shoulder. “Who wants to watch a movie?”

You smirked into the beer as the boys scrambled to race each other to the couch, arguing amongst themselves about who got to sit next to you. Mentally, you decided you needed to thank Robin for ditching you tonight.

[irisintheafterglow]

hii iris!! being one of my fav writers, i was wondering if it would be okay to please request you write something halloween related between Satoru and reader while they're in a lowkey relationship and instructors at jujutsu tech? maybe he drags reader and the students on some night of shenanigans? up to u, i just love how u write and i feel you'd kill this hehe

thank u so much! have an awesome day!

life's no fun without a good scare

summary: you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: fluff and crack and crack and fluff, established relationship, swearing (a lot of it, you'll see why lol), mentions of eating, angst if you squint, co-parenting megumi AND his friends!!

note: AAAA hi!! thank you so much for the love omg :')) i hope you like this, i definitely enjoyed writing it even though i did get a tad carried away lol. GOD this was so fun to write, thank you for suggesting it

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3 thank you for your support!!

“I’m going to eat so much candy, I’ll throw up.”

“What’re those tubs over there?”

“They’re for waterboarding Itadori,” Megumi deadpans without hesitation, clearly misrepresenting the apple bobbing game just ahead. You state his name warningly, like he was six years old again, and he mutters a half-hearted apology under his breath. “Maybe we switch out the victim for our esteemed teacher, instead.” You cover a snort with an unsuccessful cough. Even though you’d practically raised him, his jabs at Satoru never lost their humor. 

“Your suggestion will be taken into careful consideration,” you say, “though it will become more of a possibility if he continues to run on Satoru-time.” Nobara hums in agreement, kicking a stray piece of hay with her toe while you continue to progress through the general admission line to the pumpkin patch. Your fashionably-late boyfriend had sent you a very cryptic text at noon, instructing you to “pack up the kids and take them to the following address.” When you replied with a chain of question marks, he sent an infuriatingly unserious GIF that had you pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What time did he tell you?”

“5:00.” You check your phone preemptively, already anticipating the followup question. 

“And what time is it now?”

“5:20,” you sigh, sliding your card across the shelf of the ticket booth and receiving four orange wristbands in return. After slipping them onto the wrists of your three unofficial children, Itadori and Nobara immediately disappear into the crowd; Megumi, however, stays plastered to your shoulder and makes his distaste for the bustling festival known. You scan nearby groups of people for a tall idiot with white hair with no luck. If Satoru still showed up, he would have to pay for admission himself. “Let’s grab a table and find me a bottle of soju–”

“Barely twenty minutes and you’re already drinking? Since when did Shoko replace my lovely partner?” Satoru’s sing-song voice calls out from behind you, like he’d been standing with you the entire time. Despite your attempts to remain irritated at him, you can’t resist when he turns you around, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Hi, gorgeous. What took you so long?”

“I assumed you were running late, like you always do,” you argue futilely, the world melting away when you catch his eyes over the rims of his sunglasses. “Is this not too overwhelming for you? Having so many energy signatures in one place?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you with a confident wave of his hand. “After all, I have your energy to ground me.” Your legs start to feel a bit gelatinous when you hear a very obvious throat clearing itself and suddenly remember that Megumi is still standing there. “Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my dear student?”

“Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my questionable teacher?” You burst out laughing and your boyfriend’s jaw drops in indignance, gearing up to say something just as childish. On instinct, you cover his mouth with your hand, recoiling in disgust when his tongue darts out to lick your palm. “Gross. I’m gonna find my friends.” 

“Don’t do anything dumb!” The boy waves his hand dismissively and you roll your eyes. In a different universe where he actually was the child of you and Satoru, he had his father’s sass gene. 

“He’s used to this by now, isn’t he?” Satoru chuckles and it reverberates against your body, making your head spin in lovesick circles.

“I’d imagine so, seeing as we did raise him like this,” you answer, letting him start to guide you toward whatever stand interests him first, his arm draped over your shoulders. “Do you think Yuuji and Nobara have figured it out?”

“If Megs hasn’t told them, then definitely not,” he states with utmost certainty, looking over one of the games with all the concentration of a hunting tiger. In the middle of the stall was a large pool of water, and swirling around in it were small, colorful bowls in the shape of blooming flowers. The goal, you guessed, was to land a small ball in a certain color and get a corresponding prize from the lineup hanging overhead. It was truly an enticing array of stuffed animals, too, from wolves and monkeys to dinosaurs and little princess dolls. “Which one do you want?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” 

“Choose a prize and I’ll get it for you, guaranteed.” 

“Guaranteed? You do know these are designed to scam you, right?”

“And I am designed to do whatever you want, so take your pick.” After a moment of consideration, you point to a stuffie of a black cat wearing a pumpkin costume. “Cute choice.”

“It reminds me of Megs.” He laughs and pulls his arm back, stretching his neck from side to side and handing a few dollars to the game attendant. It was all for show and completely unnecessary, and he knew that; he also knew that his over-the-top shenanigans always made you laugh after a stressful week. Whether you knew it or not, he’d noticed you were increasingly overwhelmed by all the work from the previous days, specifically regarding training his students while he was off on an assignment. Along with completing your own missions, you were supervising the three first years and guiding them through boring paperwork, which he knew made you feel like shit. It’s why he suggested you go to the festival in the first place, to get your mind off of work and spend time with you. And, he’d be damned if he didn’t get you that fuzzy little cat on his first try. 

“Watch the master at work, sweetheart,” is the last thing he says before carefully tossing the first of three balls toward the only purple bowl in the pool. He’s the tiniest bit off, though, and he curses under his breath as it ricochets against the edge and into the water. “That was a practice shot.”

“Sure, baby, sure,” you giggle, stifling your amusement into a fist. His tongue peeks out the side of his mouth in absentminded focus and you’re sure he’s found the perfect arc when the voice of one of his students cheers from behind you. 

“You’ve got this!” Despite their well wishes, Yuuji and Nobara accidentally timed their cheers at the precise moment his fingers let go of the ball, messing up his aim even worse than the first time. They deflate in embarrassment and Megumi’s face turns red from trying not to laugh. The usual deadly aura radiating off of him increases tenfold and it makes you shiver despite the warm autumn air. “T-Third time’s the charm, sir!”

“Fucking hell, why do I even bother–”

“Satoru, that’s cheating,” you whisper, sensing him imbuing the tiniest amount of Cursed Energy into the last ball to easily manipulate its trajectory. “I can just buy the thing online; you don’t need to be doing all of this.”

“I can buy you anything online, but I also want to prove that I’m better than everyone else,” he mutters much too seriously than the situation required. “Plus, once I win that damn cat, it’ll have a nice story to go behind it.” 

“Your ego truly knows no bounds.”

“You know you love it.”

A minute later, you’re walking away from the game with the fuzzy cat in your arms and Satoru’s arrogant smirk by your side. The rest of the night is spent watching him drag his students into various inflatable obstacle courses and tumbling down the slide after they push him over the edge. In spite of all the excitement, you have to drag them to a picnic table to sit and eat; even then, the three students challenge their teacher to a funnel cake eating contest. To no one’s surprise, Yuuji wins by a landslide. 

Satoru pays for everything, of course. When someone wanders over to a game booth, he pays for their game every single time and continues to pay until they win a prize. By the end of the night, all five of you have at least one prize in your possession and Satoru’s bank account is barely affected. 

Before the fair closes, you propose a game of hide and seek in the gigantic corn maze. You and the three students would get a five minute head start, and then Satoru would enter and race to find you before you reached the other side. The first years’ eyes shine with excitement when you tell them they can use techniques as long as they don’t make a mess. You consider throwing a veil over the entire thing, just to make sure Megumi’s dogs don’t start any rumors of hellhounds in the area. 

“If the kids can use theirs, then you’re not allowed to use your technique,” Satoru concludes and you make a noise of indignation while you gameplan by the entrance of the maze. “Don’t start with me; that’s totally fair!”

“I don’t understand how that’s fair in any way,” you argue up at his ridiculously confident smirk. You wanted to slap him and make out with him at the same time, none of which would have been appropriate in present company. 

“You make portals, sweetheart. If we’re making the maze a no-fly zone and I run into one of your doorways, I’m gonna be in there for the rest of time.”

“I’ll just make simple doors!” 

“The last time you said that, I was stuck on a mountain for three hours,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, completely forgetting the three pairs of eyes watching this entire conversation. Sweetheart? Since when did he call anyone sweetheart? Nobara and Yuuji knew that you both were friends from high school, but the bickering seemed suspiciously akin to that of an old married couple. They glance at their spiky haired friend for confirmation of their theories, but he avoids their gaze and continues munching on pumpkin spice popcorn. “Alright, five minutes on the clock. Don’t let me catch you,” he smiles wickedly and you all but shove the three students into the maze. 

In a blink, Megumi summons his dogs and sends them to look for the exit. As you sprint down straightaways, Nobara intermittently sticks a few nails into the walls, essentially creating security sensors that will trigger if Satoru passes by it. It also helps establish what paths you’ve already explored and where you need to go next. In what feels like seconds, five minutes is gone and your heart drops as you see a black veil descend over the maze. The atmosphere of the maze feels electric, like wind before a storm, and you nervously laugh and urge the students to move faster. 

“So, are we ever going to talk about you and Gojo?” 

“That’s what you’re focused on right now?” You shoot back in amusement and Nobara shrugs, sending another nail into the corn with a strike of her hammer. “I don’t think this is the proper place to have this conversation!”

“So, are you two actually dating? Megumi won’t say anything, but he’s a terrible liar when we ask if he knows something!”

“I think the latter shooting ominous strikes of lightning into the air is a more pressing issue!”

“Lightning strikes which, I’ll add, are increasingly getting closer!” Yuuji’s voice rises to a panicked yelp and you curse in disbelief as your group slams into another dead end, giggling from sheer fear and swatting the students to find another way. All the while, blasts of pure Cursed Energy fly upward like fireworks, illuminating the field in terrifying shades of blue and red. “Any status on the nails?”

“He just passed the third one closest to us,” Nobara reports, face slowly losing color as the most powerful sorcerer in the world hunts you down. “You can’t send Nue to stall him?”

“You think a bird is going to stop Gojo Satoru?” 

“Well, your damn dogs haven’t come back yet and we’re running out of options–” The back-and-forth is cut short by a faint howl coming from the back right corner of the maze, just a few hundred yards away. One of the dogs appears from the floor, hooking a sharp right turn that has you four stumbling to catch up to it. The howls continue, as do the strikes of lightning, while you follow the dog to what you assume is the exit. “The nails haven’t picked up his energy signature in a while,” Nobara informs you in slight relief while the howling grows closer with every step. Yuuji’s mouth breaks into a victorious grin, but you and Megumi aren’t convinced. 

“Does that mean we lost him? Or did he get lost?” 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” you mutter low enough for only Megumi to hear and he nods in agreement. “I don’t feel him anywhere.” 

“That cracking behind us is just the corn, right?” Yuuji’s voice becomes uncertain and the static in the air only becomes more palpable. You’re so close to the exit and you can tell he’s getting nearer, but something in your gut tells you that you can beat him. But, Nobara’s realization makes your blood run cold. 

“Wait, I don’t sense any of my nails anymore–” 

“Found you.”

Your throats rip a collectively brutal screech as Satoru’s voice seems to come from directly behind you, and you glance backward to only see a pair of knife-sharp blue eyes staring through the black corridor of the maze. Colorful curses of fear babble from the mouths of the students and you slam your feet even harder into the ground as you sprint for the exit. The bright lights of the pumpkin sign were in sight; you just had to make it a little farther. 

“Elephant, elephant, elephant!” Yuuji’s suggestion comes out as incoherent yelps and he tries to fire off black flashes to no avail. Megumi looks at him like he’d grown four new limbs. 

“What?!”

“Summon the fucking elephant, Fushiguro!” A nail rockets away behind you only to be immediately sent back, embedding itself in the husk by your feet. 

“I hate to break it to you, but the elephant isn’t going to do anything when–”

“When I’m already right behind you,” he whispers directly into your ear and you scream as his footsteps line up with yours and his arms snake under your legs, lifting you off the ground like you weighed no more than a cotton ball. He disappears with you into darkness, firing off a single precise attack that cuts the lights of the entire exit so that the path is pitch black. Somehow, you end up outside of the maze while the three students continue to panic inside and he gently sets you on your feet. His menacing aura disappears in a blink and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his arms holding you close by your waist. “I found you,” he says with a smile. 

“You did. I know you always do, eventually.”

“Mhmm. Did you have fun?”

“Honestly, that was the most terrifying experience of my entire existence,” you laugh, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging him even closer. He chuckles warmly, ironically just as quiet as the fearful bickering of your students in the maze. You barely feel any sweat on his forehead against your shoulder and you can’t even imagine how messy you looked after running for your life. “I look like shit, don’t I?”

“You’ve never looked prettier,” he murmurs, pulling away briefly to press a kiss to your cheek. “We should probably go grab the kids.” You hum absentmindedly, vaguely making out the voices of Megumi and Yuuji trying to figure out which way to go. 

“Stay here a little longer. Let them think you’ve taken me away to your scary vampire lair, or something.”

“As you wish, sweetheart. I'll be your scary vampire anytime.”

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