#maybe they try to go back to the mall to save the rest of the people there

[tonycries]

FIVE! - C.K.

Synopsis. Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader 

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, unprotected, bréeding, Choso with rings + a tongue piercing, creampíe, mentioned kids, cúmplay, he goes feraI, oraI (fem receiving), Itadori family shenanigans (mild spoilers for unc-kuna), overstím, fíngering, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Will I ever write a Choso fic without the Itadori family? No absolutely not.

4:37PM.

“Ooo, Cho can we check that place out?”

And, listen, just because Choso would give you the moon right along with his heart doesn’t exactly mean he’s jumping with joy when he follows your gaze to that gaudy little shop tucked away in a corner of the mall. Flashing a loud, glittering sign reading, “FORTUNES: FIND YOUR FUTURE!”

Traitorous memories flash through his mind with each step you drag him closer. Of all those fortune shops he’d frequented years ago, trying to figure out whether you’d say yes to a date - before even thinking of actually asking you. 

He won’t ask anything, Choso reassures, stepping through the heady, curtained doorway. Probably not anything, he’s musing, pulling out his wallet to pay for your session. Well, maybe some things, he concludes, eyeing the sprightly old woman that takes a seat opposite you two, peering down at her dramatically large glass ball on the table. 

But that doesn’t mean he’ll-

“Babies.”

“Huh?”

“Yes.” the woman gives a solemn nod. “Five of them.”

Both of you let out a squawk of surprise, much to the amusement of the fortune teller. And Choso can feel his palms getting sweaty against your own as he manages to croak out a low, disbelieving, “Five?”

All but toppling out of his seat in suspense as she takes a moment to scrutinize her orb once more. And, surely glass balls can glitch, right? Mix up fortunes or something? Because while he knows you’ll be by his side in this life and every other one after - kids were a whole other responsibility that neither of you had talked about, yet.

At least, that’s what Choso was trying to convince himself right before the woman lets out a thoughtful hum, “Well, you-” pointing a wisened, accusing finger right in his flushed face. “-want more - about eight - but, of course, your future wife says no.” Gesturing to your giggling figure, “Honestly, young man, learn to keep it in your pants, the poor dear!”

Shit, he was going to run away, do something to end up on the national news - and judging by the way you squeeze his hand, you could tell, too. 

Subconsciously, Choso’s eyes scan the wall for any hidden cameras, wondering what type of strange prank this was. It had happened once four years ago - and just-so-happened to be what made him give up and finally ask you out - but, hey, it made for a pretty great first date story, right?

Finding none, he sighs, barely opening his mouth to ask before she plows on, “And of course there’s only so many your uncle can piggyback at once, right? No matter how much that grump says he doesn’t like it.”

Right.

Of course.

Oh god, he thinks he could faint. 

Choso doesn’t dare say anything for the rest of the session, nor does he look directly in your eyes. Save for that one time to admire your delighted laugh when the fortune teller prattles on about how your kids will “fight his needy self for your attention.”

Not until the two of you are stepping back out into the too-bright mall, your fingers intertwined with his, voice sweet in his ear as you continue with your forgotten mission to find the good brownie mix for the family dinner tonight. 

“Eyes like yours and hair like mine.” You sigh, repeating what you’d heard mere minutes ago. Hooking a finger subtly into his belt loop, smirking, “Sooo, five, huh? You’re this worked up over that?”

“N-no.” Choso replies hastily, but the heavy gulp he takes is a dead giveaway he can’t stop thinking about tiny combinations of the two of you running around. Face too-hot, hands jittery, brows furrowed as he decides for the second time in his life that, yeah he’s never stepping foot inside a fortune shop again. 

You notice - of course, you do. 

Especially when he pulls you into the nearest changing stall, knuckle-deep inside your drenched panties, rings cool against your cunt, lips kissing at your throat. Ignoring your teasing complaints about “getting late”, despite how you’re letting him have his way. 

He feels the vibration of your voice under his hot tongue, laughing - even when he gives your pretty clit a little pinch. “Five.”

And through it all, he can’t help but think - hypothetically, of course, that he hopes they all have your laugh.

---

7:16PM.

Honestly, the one thing that made the Itadori residence more of a home to Choso was having you there. Even when you’re standing with him outside the front door, letting out a sigh as you glare at your sad excuse for brownies.

“Ugh, Cho, we totally burnt them.” you grumble up at your boyfriend. “Your dad is gonna hate it and Sukuna’s gonna make fun of me and-”

“Sukuna can try.” Choso hits the doorbell once more, sure that the ruckus inside was too loud to even think over. “And he probably will.” Before turning back to your adorable pout, and ah he can’t stop himself from cupping your face, smoothing over that furrow in your brow. He leans in to give your lips a chaste peck, “But, he’s still gonna steal some. N’ dad’ll love it, and you already know gramps is gonna sneak in some even though his doctor told him not to.” He’s getting out through kisses, pulling your giggling face closer to his. “And we’ll be lucky to get any before Itadori inhales them.”

He ends his little speech with a slow, lingering kiss. Sliding his soft lips across your now much happier ones. Dancing a hand down to pull your hips closer, murmuring throatily, “N’ most of all, I’m gonna love ‘em, baby.”

You gasp at the feeling of his long fingers pressing just at the hem of your panties through your dress, “You’re- you’re too much.” You hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. “But, the brownies really are-”

Slam!

“Yeah yeah, Jin, the brats are finally here, jus’ fucking on the porch!” 

If there’s anything Choso’s learned from all the times you’ve had dinner with his family, it’s that 1. Yes, the brownies - as burnt and questionable as they were - will always turn out to be a hit in the Itadori household. 2. You were really, really too perfect for your own good, even amidst the chaos. 

“Oh no, let me.” you flash Jin a beaming smile, taking over the well cleared-out plates to the kitchen. Only to be followed by an enthusiastic Yuji almost tripping over his own feet to help you out. 

“You got a good one there.” Choso snaps out of his soft stare to whirl around at where his grandpa was seated next to him. He tips his head over to where you were chattering animatedly with the younger boy taking your load of dishes. “Real lovely. Though, the desert I’m assuming you helped out with.”

Jin pipes up, “Bah! I thought that liquorice was great.”

“They were…brownies.” Face burning, he stammers, knowing full well that you were the one that forgot them in the oven. “And uh y-yeah, you got me…”

And, of course, because it’s a family dinner, Sukuna has to lean over to rile him up. Interjecting teasingly, “Then you best wife that cute lil’ thing up before those baking skills of yours make ‘em run off n’ find someone that can bake.” He smirks devilishly, eyes flitting to the view of the kitchen, “And…”

“And?”

“-is fuckin’ great with kids, too.”

Several things happen at once - the words are barely out of Sukuna’s mouth before he’s being swatted over the head. Hard. After all, being the nicer of the two doesn’t make Jin Itadori forget his roots as the older brother.

And Choso’s jaw is dropping into a soft oh! Not at the unusual display of strength, no, instead it was at the heavenly scene before him.

He swears, the lights grow just a bit brighter and the world becomes a little rosier at the sight of you teaching an eager Yuji the correct way to scrub strainers. Gently guiding the boy until that confused furrow between his brow disappears. “Yeah, just a bit more on the side and you’re done!”

He gives you a very soapy high-five, “You’re literally a lifesaver, Kugisaki was just making fun of me for this the other day.” Moving onto the rest of the workload, “‘Can’t do shit’ gonna show her, seriously. Thank you mom- uh-”

Yuji freezes. You freeze. And it seems that everyone in the world might’ve frozen, except for Sukuna who was still rubbing that bump on his head. 

And you, of course, promptly cutting off the flurry of apologies that looked like they were about to burst from Itadori’s lips. Smiling at the flustered boy softly, “Well…good job, Yuji.” you bump his hip. “And now onto the blender.”

“AW, MAN.”

Suddenly, everything was normal again. Except for Choso - definitely not Choso. 

Mom? 

So utterly, completely not Choso when everyone’s still talking downstairs, and he’s not. Making some cheap excuse about a ‘bathroom break’, which really didn’t explain why he covertly drags you behind him by the hand. All but shoving you into his childhood bedroom, shutting the door as quietly as he could without alerting anyone of your tryst. 

“Ch-Cho-” you squeal when he pushes you against the wall, dropping down to his knees with a fervor that makes you wince. But if it hurt, then Choso doesn’t show it - doesn’t show anything but pure need when he bunches your dress up at your waist. Soft tongue darting out to glide along your drenched slit, “What’s gotten- hngh- into you?”

The only response you get is a murmured growl of something you can’t bother deciphering. And he doesn’t give you any other, either - sluggishly nudging away your panties to admire your glistening cunt. 

So close. Just hovering over your puffy folds, smiling at the way they only get wetter at his hot breath, “Five.”

Too close. Glossy pink lips falling slack to wrap around your clit and-

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Though, it was more of a bang. And an even louder voice from outside, “OI, you brats better be decent, gramps found some dusty old albums n’ wants you two down.”

---

9:02PM.

“Awww, this is from his first fight with Yuji- yes, Choso so what if I took a picture?” Jin excitedly points to a photo on the page, “Yuji was the one with a bruise, but Choso was the one bawling.”

You titter at the glossy picture, a confused-looking Yuji as a toddler, being smothered by his older brother in a hug - big, fat tears running down his pouty cheeks. Adorable. And somehow that encounter with the fortune teller today rings in your mind - wonder if your kids would have those same eyes?

“As cute as ever, huh?” your gaze dances across all the gems of childhood on the page. 

“Disagreed.” Sukuna leans over, no matter how much he’d like to pretend he wasn’t interested in these albums. “Look how attached the lil’ anklebiter used to be.” A painted nail pokes at one of Choso on his uncle’s shoulders, tiny fists happily gripping onto pink hair - much to his disgruntlement. “And then I look over at him now and-” He glances over at the man in question, very much unamused. “Well. That’s disappointing.”

Choso rolls his eyes, “What’s disappointing is how you’re this old but still can’t find a-” 

“Ooo look this is from when he’d run away during bath time!”

That album is snatched so fast out of Jin’s hands that you wonder whether it might just be your imagination. But you look over at a red-faced Choso, seeing him hold it way above your heads. Muttering out a hasty, “I think that’s enough photo time.”

Amidst the collective groans of disappointment - even Sukuna lets out a low huff, you hadn’t gotten to those ugly matching Halloween costume pictures yet - only Yuji speaks up, “Do you think I’d be like that, too?”

Sukuna scoffs, “What? An emo bastard? Might just work out for ya, kid, the dumbass look isn’t doing you any favors.”

Yuji juts his chin in indignance, “No- we already have Fushiguro for that.” Tilting his head over to the album still tight in Choso’s clutches. “Do you think your kids would like me? Would I be that cool favorite family member?”

“No way, brat. It’ll be me.”

Choso’s grandpa also chimes in as well, “Huh? No, I’d be the favorite.”

“Gramps-”

“Says who?”

“DISRESPECT TO YOUR ELDERS!”

“Hey!” Everything turns to Choso, startled at his sudden outburst. Tension crackling as he pokes a thumb at his chest, “I’d be their favorite. For all five of them.”

And you knew a fist or two to be thrown, hell, you half-expected the album to be used as some type of weapon. Because before you knew it, Sukuna was on Yuji, and both Yuji and Choso were on Sukuna. Falling to the floor in a tangled pile while his grandpa sat on the sidelines, chanting an elated, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Ah, it’s times like this that you wonder how Jin Itadori really had the patience. Because with all the grace that was lacking in the current scuffle on the living room floor, he claps his hands loudly. “Alright. Perhaps Choso’s right, that’s enough photo time for tonight.” He plucks the album out of a dazed Choso still gripping onto it, before moving to walk out. “And for the record-” Flashing you all a devious smile which suddenly had you remember that shit, him and Sukuna were twins, after all. “-I’d be the favorite.”

The arguments that followed were ones you had to record on your phone to giggle at later. And, yet, through it all, the only thing you could truly focus on were Choso’s words - all five of them.

Fuck. You were truly, irrevocably so fucked, and one sideglance at the pretty pink blush burning at the tips of Choso’s ears told you he wasn’t faring any better. 

You jolt when his hand wraps around your waist - nothing out of the ordinary - but what was was the way he strayed past their usual perch at your hip, trailing slightly above to just caress your stomach. Something so electric in those eyes when they catch yours briefly. 

All five of them, huh?

---

9:37PM. 

SLAM!

“Cho, why’d you-”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know what’s hitting you first - his lips crashing against yours, or the realization that this was Choso. Dark eyes half-lidded, skin burning, breaths heaving with the fervor he was drinking you in with. 

“What-” you yelp when he pulls away lazily to suck on your lower lip. “What got-” Only to come clashing back down again, drawing out all the air in your lungs as he blindly shoves the two of you against the nearest wall. “What got into you this- mmpf-” And again it’s like Choso didn’t want you to talk - could bare another word in your sweet voice for fear of poking some deep, visceral part of himself awake. 

This time, not even daring to break the kiss, he pants into your open mouth, “Shut up.” So bruisingly sloppy, “Please.”

And oh he was so very determined to have it that way, because all you can do is let out breathless gasps when his hands dance down your body. Handling you so rough with the way he snaps the neckline of your cute lil’ dress, kneading your breasts, your hips. Everywhere and anywhere he could reach until he makes his way down to cup your already-damp cunt through your panties. “-because tonight m’gonna have her talking.”

Choso pushes his hips against yours with a strained grunt. Lips curling into a sinful leer when all you can do is gasp at the outline of his thick erection through his pants. Grinding down onto his palm subconsciously, dragging your sloppy pussy. 

“Shit.” Choso immediately brings his hand up to admire - now all glistening with a sheen of your syrupy slick. Looking you right in your glassy eyes as he pops a wet finger into his mouth. His own rolling to the back of his head, “Oh shit.”

Oh, he was going to enjoy this. So very, very much.

“Turns out…” he trails off, cutting himself off by dropping to his knees. Hard. Large hands groping your ass closer to his greedy mouth, “-she says we got some unfinished business.”

You whine when Choso hooks an index underneath the mound of your drenched panties sliding it along your puffy folds. All the way up until he was nudging at your pretty clit, then down, down, down until you were just coating his fingers. 

“Ngh- Cho-” your knees weaken, when his hot breath hits your pussy. And he notices - of course he does. Circling his muscled arms around your legs to hold you up, “Oh my god s’too much.”

Too much? He’s barely even getting started. And he tells you that - slurs it between his sharp canines biting down on the thin fabric of your panties. He tugs with his teeth, “M’gonna- fuck you smell so heavenly- m’gonna ruin you.” 

You whimper in disbelief. Knowing he was too entranced with your cunt to tease you again, you mewl, “Wh-what’s got you this- fuck- worked up, Cho?”

The only response you get is a throaty growl - like the mere idea of the answer to that has Choso losing his sanity. 

And, honestly he feels like he’s lost it already. Instead, taking his time to watch the way your slick beads through the see-through fabric with each passing second. Breaths coming out in little puffs as he pulls your panties back every-so-slightly and-

“Fuck!”

And then he’s pulling - ripping your poor panties to shreds. Cock twitching wildly at the strings of slick connecting your pussy to the fabric. Mouthwatering. 

Your panties lay in tatters on the floor. The cold air hitting you right along with his steady stream of saliva. Once. Twice. Smearing it across your folds with his thumbs as Choso repeats a single, jagged whisper, “Five.”

But you barely even have the time to register his response before he’s diving nose-deep into your dripping cunt. You don’t even know if he took the time to breathe - hell, he was kissing your puffy folds like he didn’t need to breathe. 

“Shouldn’t have taken me to ngh- that fortune shop.” his lips mesh sloppily with yours. “Shouldn’t have gone to dinner, too.” Licking down your folds, the cold metal of his piercing making your head spin. “Fuckkk we shouldn’t have. Ohhh we shouldn’t have- ”

He can’t help but let out a guttural, fucked-out little grunt at the sight. Looking right up into your glassy eyes as the tip of his nose bumps against your throbbing clit. On purpose. 

You buck your hips deeper into his pretty face, mewling. “O-oh. Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” Letting him lick so filthily all over your clit - your folds - just barely dipping into your hole like he couldn’t decide. And it finally sets in that just maybe you weren’t getting off easy this time. “Five?”

And fuck you can feel the way Choso grins against your pussy, wrapping his now-glossy lips around your clit to suck so harshly.

“Mhmmm.” he moans, cheeks hollowing as he tugs on your poor, ravaged clit. Rolling his tongue - the ball of his piercing - right across the sensitive bud in just the way he knew you liked. “Shouldn’t have put those thoughts in my head, baby.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. Five. 

You definitely weren’t making it out alive today.

The same sentiment seems to ring in Choso’s pussydrunk head as he pulls away with a lewd squelch to grin up at you. So fucking pretty with his eyes miles away, hair messily framing his smudged eyeliner. Lips all puffy and glistening, your slick covering the lower half of his face, his chin - some even on his jaw like Choso was trying to get messy on purpose. “Ya finally got it, baby? I could feel her gettin’ wetter.”

You did. How could you not?

You jump when Choso reattaches his lips, this time bullying his tongue past your folds, into that first, feeble ring of resistance. Stretching out your sopping entrance on his tongue in persistent, rough pushes. “Seems she hngh- really likes the idea, hm? Of me breeding this lil’ cunt?” he moans, muffled with the way he was thrusting his tongue deeper and deeper with each second. Roaming for those cute sensitive spots he knew so well, “N’ who am I to say no to the fuck- mother of my kids?”

“There! Oh my god there-” you cry when his piercing just hits at your g-spot. “I-I thought you ngh- didn’t want kids, Cho–”

As if to prove you wrong, Choso’s only curling his tongue deeper into your walls. Squeezing past your walls to fuck you exactly the way he wanted to with his aching cock right now. Hitting that magic spot again and again and-

“Oh yeah? Seems-” Like he was fucking addicted, Choso surges forward again. And again. And again and again so deep that you could feel the curve of his chin, each and every movement of his jaw. “Seems the last five hours were a bit- eye-opening. Fuck- you’re squeezin’ me s’fucking- mmf- tight”

And it was true - your walls were milking Choso’s tongue so hard you half-lucidly wondered whether it didn’t hurt. Whether his tongue wasn’t cramping up at this point, lips aching. 

But if they did, then Choso acted the exact opposite. Nails leaving neat little patterns on the plush of your hips as he makes you ride his face harder. 

“Cho!” you buck your hips wildly when that wasn’t enough for your needy boyfriend either. Big, fat tears of overstimulation rising up to your eyes when he swipes his thumb across your pulsing clit. Rings cold against your cunt when he starts to draw urgent, messy little circles in time with his tongue.“Oh fuck-” 

“Five.” he’s spitting into your cunt when your thighs start trembling beside his head. Jaw sagging open so lewdly as he gets faster - sloppier. Fuck any rhythm or reason. “Five.” he moans, sounding as strained as you felt - as taut as a tightrope right now with each drag of your sloppy cunt over Choso’s ravenous mouth. Greedier - letting your slick run all the way down his wrist now with how messy he was getting. “Five.” he whispers, when you finally cum. 

And shit, you’re such a vision when you do. Tears springing to your eyes, fingers tightening on Choso’s hair. Letting out such cute sobs of his name, hips moving out of control all over his mouth while he still pulls and pushes his tongue into your gummy walls. Fucking you so obscenely through your high. 

“Yeah? You all done with the first one, baby?” he rasps, giving your sensitive cunt one, last peck at your delirious nod - and another extra, just to watch you squirm. “Then-” Choso does the same up your body, pressing his lips to your stomach, “-you can-” the valley of your breasts. “-take responsibility.”

That’s all it takes for Choso to easily throw you onto his sculpted shoulders like some ragdoll. Taking long, urgent steps towards the nearest flat surface - that just so happened to be your couch. 

“Cho- slow-” you squeal when he throws you onto the cushions. “-down.”

And he does anything but. Barely paying attention to your zipper when he pulls off whatever’s left of your dress, throwing it god-knows-where behind him. “I’ll buy you a new one when we go pregnancy shopping.”

Choso lets out a long, strained groan when he unbuckles your bra. “Gonna be so pretty as a mama.” Large, soft hands coming to knead and guide your pretty nipples into his mouth, “Gonna be- fuck- so pretty with these all full.” 

And you can only watch, jaw-dropped, as Choso sucks on your tits. Eyes rolling to the back of his head with how harsh he was - as if he was trying to get out milk. Needing to feel it - to taste it on his tongue. 

“And this- oh this-” A hand sneaks its way down to splay out over your stomach. Pressing down, hard. “So round and full with my kid.” He manages to grit out over the metal clinking of his belt, “They’ll look at you and all they’ll see is me.” He pauses, feeling something crinkle in his pocket - a shiny condom. One that Choso chucks along with your dress, “Fuck, they’ll see me. Know how I ruined you. Me me me me-”

Fuck- 

You’re so caught up in Choso’s sinful little mutters that you barely even noticed he’d pull down his pants - just enough for his rock-hard erection to spring free. And he looked so painfully hard, such an angry red at his weeping tip, leaking all the way down, down, down those prominent veins. 

Twitching upwards at the mere sound of your voice, “Why don’t you p-prove it then, Cho?”

You broke him. You were sure you broke him. 

The words have barely left your lips before Choso’s fist is squeezing at the drenched base of his cock. Angry. Desperate. 

All but cumming on the spot when he glides his fat head along your slit - letting your cunt drool all over him before-

“F-fuck-”

“Shhh baby, I know I know.” his mouth crashes against yours in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Sucking on your tongue while he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. Inch by fucking inch. And whatever’s remaining of Choso’s sanity knows he should slow down, let you breathe, maybe stretch you out more - but how could he when he physically can’t. “Fuck- too- too good. God, I have t-to do this more often.”

Your raw cunt too heavenly that he genuinely can’t stop his hips from splitting you apart deeper, from spreading your thrashing legs so far apart it burned.

From feeling the way you’re torn between taking more and flattening your feet to push away- Letting out a strangled groan, “No no no no no- don’t you take this pussy away. How else will I breed her?” He runs his delirious mouth, strong arms just dragging you across the couch back onto his mean cock. “Need this- need this so bad. Fuck-” Choso throws his head back as your cunt sucks up his leaky tip. “-oh god think m’gonna die if I don’t get to breed this pretty pussy. To give her my kid.”

Pushing in small, sharp jabs to bully himself inside, having your puffy folds bulge so obscenely around his cock. Quivering and struggling to take him all. Not even a quarter of the way in yet he was pushing in and out in and out in and-

“Oh- please-” you claw down his toned back, his waist, onto the biceps that were pushing your knees up for easier access, all the way until they were at your tits. Folding you into a tight mating press, “Cho–”

Ah, that little nickname always did things to him. And Choso nuzzles the crook of your neck gently - the exact opposite of his hips, leaving faint, dark streaks of eyeliner on your skin. “What is it? What do you hngh- want, baby? I’ll give ya anything.”

And maybe you were a mastermind. Maybe you were an idiot. Because you hum into his ear, sending goosebumps rising down your boyfriend’s spine, “Wan’ five of them.”

If you thought you broke him before then you fucking ruined him now.

Because in one, harsh thrust he’s bottoming out - feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs, your hazy brain. And the stretch - fuck. You could feel each and every dip and curve of Choso’s girth, thrumming against your plushy walls. Still pushing inside you despite bottoming out, stretching you out like such a slut. 

It was all Choso could do to echo, over and over like some type of mantra. “Finally- Five, huh? Five- Fuck!” Leaving little bruises on your thighs from spreading them apart so hard. “Gonna give you five- fuck- five.”

Each word was punctuated by a long, mean thrust, not daring to reel back until Choso could feel his fat head kiss your poor cervix, and his heavy balls smack against your ass. 

It was starting to take a toll on your ability to speak in coherent sentences - as expected, of course. 

“Oh- ngh- Cho, s’too deep. Too- ah-” you blubber tearily, heels digging into his shoulders. And he only fucks you harder into the couch. Bouncing you so rough on his swollen cock. 

“Too deep?” Choso mutters, sounding genuinely surprised. As if to confirm for himself, he trails up a hand to feel for where he knew he was leaving loving little marks on your cervix. Pressing down. “How are ya- hah- how are ya gonna let me breed this cute cunt if even this is too deep, huh?”

You don’t have the ability to answer even if you wanted to - because Choso starts to toy with your still-sensitive clit. Sending flashes of white-hot pleasure with each roll of his ringed thumb over it. Tiny, incessant circles.

He coos over your lewd ah! ah! ah! “Awww. My baby can’t s-speak anymore?”. The curve of his dick fucking you so dumb, massaging your tight walls, hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. “S’alright, jus’ let me hah- take care of it, okay? Jus’ let me paint this oh- heavenly pussy white.” Choso’s knees dig into the cushion as he angles his hips ever-so-slightly to hit that one-

“Fuck! Oh fuck- Cho–”

Found it.

“C’mon, baby.” Choso moans into the valley of your breasts, hips out of control now. Free hand coming up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to peer into his dark gaze. “L-look at me. Fuck- look at the future father to your kids.”

All while his thick tip hit your g-spot over and over and- 

And oh how he loved how fucked-out you looked already. Capable of only giving him bleary, cockdrunk heart-eyes as he milks himself on your sloppy cunt. He couldn’t think straight - doesn’t think he’s been able to since five hours ago. 

Since he’s been wrecked with thoughts of how he’d do their hair and you’d pick them up from school. And how Yuji would be the best uncle and- Fuck, how he wanted those five kids with you - maybe even more- 

“More?” you gasp. And Choso lets out a guttural groan when you clench so sinfully around him in surprise. Fucking you so filthy, “M-more kids?”

Choso only drawls out a low, “Mhmmmm.” Pinching your clit faster between two fingers to shut up those cute whines because shit- he could cum from just how tight you were squeezing him. But refuses to before the mother of his kids. “Ya don’ ngh- wan’ me to? Don’ want me to fuck a baby into you?” 

You’re crying out harder when he speeds up. Rocking your sloppy cunt so harshly, making sure your poor pussy will remember him for a long, long time. Just trying - needing - to make himself cum. To fill you up with his seed till you can’t take it anymore. “I- ngh- do!”

And it takes everything in Choso to pull away from your ravaged tits, connecting his sweaty forehead with yours. Whispering, “How many?”

“As- fuck-”

“Mhm?”

“As many as you want- hngh-”

That’s all it takes for Choso’s body to bow, teeth digging in right above that rapid pulse on your neck so hard you wondered whether it drew blood. Hips stuttering, giving your sensitive spot one last, harsh kiss.

This time, when you cum you see white flashes behind your eyes - or maybe that was just Choso. Because the sight of you falling apart on his dick was all it takes for him to as well. Hard. Almost painfully so. 

Eyeliner running down his cheeks now with each thick, hot rope of seed he was filling your snug cunt up with. Those cushions below the two of you the last thing on his mind right now as he holds your trembling hips still, fucking his cum deeper and deeper.

The hand on your stomach pushes down, watching awe-struck at how your bloated cunt just coats him in cum. Dribbling down the side of your puffy folds, forming a creamy ring at his base.

“Oh!“ your jaw falls slack at how animalistic it felt. At how slutty your overfilled pussy felt, drooling all down your legs - and his. Onto Choso’s painfully squeezing balls as he fucks you like an animal. Again. And again and-

Again. He was speeding his hips up again. 

Then it’s like something snaps - Choso’s restraint, your sanity, and the couch. Fuck, his hips were so harsh that the couch was sagging entirely too much on your end.

This time, wrangling your legs around Choso’s waist, lifting your limp body up into Choso’s arms before you can react - squirming at the way he still doesn’t bother to pull out. Letting your cum gush all the way down his still-hard dick. 

Hands spreading your puffy folds apart, making such a mess of cum down below as he drags himself across your walls. Like he was marking you from the inside out - and he was.

“Didn’t think we were ngh- done, did you?” Choso’s lips graze your swollen ones. “After all, I did promise five.” Softly pooling a stray tear onto his tongue, piercing burning into your heated skin. “N’ we gotta practice for that, too, right?”

---

“The photo albums, really? Honestly, dad, you might as well have just gone and just outright told them.”

The older man only waves a hand dismissively, turning back to his favorite late-night show, “I’m not getting any younger here. N’ I’d like to see some grandkids before I see the pearly gates.”

Jin only sighs, but doesn’t disagree - after all, he couldn’t deny his father what he himself has been dreaming about ever since Choso finally plucked up the courage to actually ask you out. Yet he persists, “But honestly, Sukuna - you were teasing him a bit too much.”

Sukuna grunts, “Teasing? What teasing?” Crossing two big arms across his chest, “From the way they ran outta here, I suspect he should be thanking me.”

“Well, the true MVP - as the kids say - is this one-” Grandpa Itadori points at a rather oblivious Yuji. ‘Real nice improv to the plan, kid.“

Who only shakes his head before looking around the room for any answers, “Huh, wait. What plan? Did I miss some plan?”

“Ahem- no. Nothing.” Jin coughs, swiftly moving along the conversation above Yuji’s confused protests about what secret plan there was and why. “But, really, it should be that fortune teller you hired, Sukuna. Bit over-the-top honestly, but Choso was telling me all about her and you must’ve gotten a real convincing actress.”

Rolling his eyes, “Huh, I didn’t hire her, I thought that was the ol’ man’s work?”

“Now why would I go looking for actresses, my wife would just haunt me from the grave.”

The silence that follows is a heavy one as it slowly dawns upon everyone in the room - except for a still-floundering Yuji - that this was in no way a creative improvisation to the aforementioned plan. Not at all, really.

Oh. 

Wow. Five…really?!

“GUYS WHAT WAS THE PLAN?”

A/N. This got wayyyyyy longer than I expected lmao.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[all-lars-bars]

Every one hear me out

Generation loss x Marble hornets?

Eh? Eh?

[wwaheoh]

"Running Into Them at the Mall", Cunning Hares x gn!Reader, SFW, Fluff

a/n: can you tell i'm even worse at writing happy things?

At the mall, you were perusing through some movie tapes, action, comedy, horror… nothing that you felt was good enough for the Cunning Hares Weekly Movie Night. Usually you’d go to the video store on Sixth Street, Random Play, to find movies, but since you’d heard about them having to make a new account and helping Wise save Belle from the Hollow, you didn’t want to also put pressure on them to get more movies when their main income was basically gone for the time being.

Sifting through the remainder of the ‘New Release’ row, a familiar voice rang out from behind you.

Nicole ///

“Hey! Looking for a movie?” You could hear the smile in her voice. Looking back, Nicole got close, in her usual getup, hair a soft pink, basically pressing against you as she looked at the movie you had been reading the description of. “Ooh~ cheating on Random Play huh?” She spoke with a playful, teasing tone, slyly wrapping her hand around yours to get a better look at the movie you were checking out “No! Just heard about everything and don’t want to impose. I think we've watched everything there ten fold.”

“Mm, and you didn’t want to come with me to the mall?” “You got your nails done, they’d take longer to be finished than it would to check out all the movies in this whole store!” She looks at you with a deadpan expression, “Hey, perfection comes with time (and money).”

After picking out a movie, you rented the tape out for the week, before heading to the food court to grab some food before home. You realize that she had basically gotten you to buy her free lunch for the day before heading back to the base…

Billy ///

“Yo!” An artificial voice of Billy spoke behind you, nearly spooking your soul out of you. For such a loud metal-bodied guy, he was surprisingly quiet. “Whatcha looking for?” He peaked over your shoulder, “Ahh, mm, never thought you’d like this sorta movie? It ain’t Starlight Knights: The Movie but whatever, c’mon! There’s an arcade here, heard they got God•Finger, gotta get my name onto the top of the leaderboard!”

Giggling at his antics you agreed, but you reminded him that you had to pay before leaving. The movie you got wasn’t particularly your kind of movie, more dramatic and less action-y explosion-y type.

He got Number One on the Leaderboard, with you landing at Number Three.

Anby ///

Turns out, Anby was also shopping at the mall, having accidentally taken the shopping list you made- that you’d forgotten at the base.

“Hello.” The usual monotone voice had a happy tone to it, something hard to hear had you not been as close to her as you were. Turning from the movie you’d been reading the description of, you waved with a smile. “Hey Anby! Wanted to try a different spot to find a movie.” She nodded, crouching next to you to read the text on the movie cover you were holding. “This doesn’t seem to be the type of movie you’re usually interested in.”

“Yeah, been just browsing for now… wait. Why are you here? Don’t you pick next week?” “Huh? The shopping list I picked up said I was to find a movie for this week.”

You looked at the bag she held in her hand. You looked at the bag you had resting by your side. You looked at her cute face, soft white hair framing it like a picture.

“That was my shopping list.” You broke the news to her.

“Oh.”

“That was $40.”

“Nicole’s going to blow a lid.”

“Yeah…”

The two of you went through the extensive inventory of movies available in the shop, choosing one the two of you believed Nicole would like. Maybe this would save you two from Nicole’s wrath.

Nekomiya ///

a/n: i didn't forget her this time!

“Ooh? Looking for a movie?” You nearly jumped out of your skin. The sneakiness of a street cat- er, catgirl, was not to be underestimated. “What’re ya thinking?”

“Hey Nekomiya, just browsing. Nothing’s really catching my eye.” “Well, y'know what they say! You can’t think on an empty stomach, meow!” You stared at her with a deadpan expression. “Did you come here all the way just for some free lunch?”

“Aha… no! (Maybe).” You sighed, but understood. Commissions had been low recently, on the account of Nicole- and by extension the whole of the Cunning Hares, working to aid the citizens in the lawsuit against that corrupt construction company. Awful business that.

“Alright, c’mon. I’ll go check out, then let’s get some fish in that belly!” “Hey! Not all of us want fish!” “Then what do you want?” ”Mackerel…” “That’s fish.”

Bringing the video tape to the front, you paid before making your way over to the food court with Nekomiya.

[leossmoonn]

can you please write something with Mike being a hero, maybe saving the reader from something? I feel like he is such a caring, protective person who wants to help others and I would like to see something where he is able to do that - your work is so appreciated and incredible btw!

thank you :D.

a/n- thanks to jess for this idea. i didn’t just want to do a copycat scene of mike and afton. that’s the only idea i had lol. and i feel like this could capture what you wanted you :)

warnings / includes -lowk near death experience lol. reader can be read as gn ! one use of y/n

————

“i’ll see you in thirty, mike.”

mike gives his co-worker a small smile and nod. “yep.”

he exits the employee’s office, stuffing his hands in his pockets in search for his keys and phone. he checks his phone for any texts or calls from max about abby, relieved to see nothing was the matter.

he makes his way out of the mall and to one of the fast food options across the street. he forgot to pack his lunch again. not like he does, anyways. he usually can get by with lots of water and some gum, but today he’s hungrier than usual. he hates to spend money on food for himself, but he knows that if he doesn’t eat, he might pass out. that’s not something he needs happening at work.

“hi, can i have a number three. no drink,” he orders. he pays with cash, taking the table number and sitting down in the corner of the restaurant.

he looks out of the window, trying to think of anything else but the home he has to go to at the end of the day, and the fact that he should get another job. he thinks about what abby might say to him, or what she might not say to him.

he ponders about the day his brother was taken. if only he could go to sleep right now in this mcdonald’s. if only he could travel back in time and see who took his little brother. if only he was able to protect garrett from the monsters that lurk on this earth.

his appetite is shot, but he forces himself to eat something since he paid for it. he saves some fries for abby, putting them in a paper brown bag and folding it hastily. he gives the workers an awkward smile as he leaves, pulling out his phone to check the time. he still has 15 minutes before his break is over. he might as well just go back to work. he doesn’t get paid to be on break, and every cent counts.

he makes his way across the parking lot, pressing the crosswalk button once he gets to the street. he watches as the cars speed by, the wind blowing in his face and providing a calming sensation. a wave of tiredness washes over him and he feels his eyes start to flutter shut. he runs a hand over his face, dragging his skin down in attempt to somehow stimulate him. but, of course, it doesn’t work. mike is in terrible sleep debt and will be for the rest of his life.

he starts to feel impatient as the light is taking too long — for him, at least. in reality, he’s only been standing there for almost two minutes, but it feels like 10. his attention is turned away from the terrible timing of the traffic lights when he hears a loud laugh. he looks to his right, seeing you approach him. you’re on the phone with somebody and talking very loud. the wind seems to carries your voice as you laugh once more, rolling your eyes right after.

as you get closer, mike quickly looks away. he glances at you through his peripheral once you stand next to him.

“yeah, i’m not sure what to get him. i might just get him money. that’s what teenagers what anyways, right? he can just spend it however he wants,” you say.

mike tries not to listen to your conversation, but you’re right next to him. it doesn’t seem like you care, anyways. it’s not like you’re talking about anything incriminating.

“well, i’m about to cross the street and head to the mall. can i send you pictures of things i find and you can tell me if he will like them or not? okay, thanks. yeah, i’ll talk to you later.”

mike turns his head to you slightly, watching as you end the call and slip your phone in your back pocket. you glance at him, giving him a sweet smile. it’s not a polite, awkward smile like mike usually gives someone. it’s genuine, like you’re happy to see mike or something. the corners of your eyes crinkle and the apples of your cheeks raise. mike can’t help but stare for a few seconds too long.

finally, the crosswalk gives them the green light. mike lets you walk first, but as you take a step, a car that’s turning right doesn’t stop. everything happens so fast, you barely have time to process. first you were calmly taking a step, next thing you know you’re heart is racing and you feel like you’re about to shit yourself. your body feels like a sloth and your legs stutter, not sure what to do even though your brain knows you should take a step back. luckily, mike out and grabs your arm, yanking you back onto the side walk. the car has the audacity to honk at you, speeding into the parking lot behind you two.

“oh, my god,” you mutter, a little breathless. you look down at his hand that’s wrapped around your bicep. his grip is firm, but gentle. his hand is warm and you can feel the callouses that live at the base of his fingers.

“sorry,” mike murmurs as he tears his arm away from you.

“don’t be sorry. you saved my life,” you smile gratefully. “it’s… it’s no problem,” he nods.

“ugh, now we have to wait another cycle. i’m sorry,” you groan as you watch the lights on the other side turn green.

“you shouldn’t be sorry, either. that asshole almost killed you because he couldn’t wait a few seconds.”

“yeah,” you sigh. “i wonder why he’s in such a hurry.”

mike looks back to the small strip of restaurants behind him. “must be hungry.”

“mmm, being hungry and driving are not a good mix. trust me, i know,” you joke.

mike laughs softly. you give him another smile. “i’m y/n.”

“i’m mike,” he says. he says your name in his head a couple of times as to commit it to memory.

“so, are you always saving people from angry drivers?” you ask. you internally cringe at your cheap way of trying to keep the conversation going, but mike doesn’t seem to mind or notice.

“only sometimes.” he gives you a playfully grin that makes your heart stutter against your rib cage.

you stay silent for a few moments, looking over him. you feel like you’ve seen him before. he looks so familiar, but you don’t know why. you know you’ve never spoken to him before. you only knew one other mike, which was one of your co-workers. and you know you’d remember this mike if you had even bumped into him. he’s handsome, no doubt. his eyes are dark, like he’s experienced terrible things, but they’re also soft and kind. he doesn’t look welcoming or forthcoming. you can tell he’s quite reserved in the way he stands, his stolen glances, the way his hands rest in his pockets. once he smiles, though, his face lights up and there’s a twinkle in his eyes.

you stare at him for a few more moments. you trace the slender curve of his nose and prominent jawline that could cut butter. it’s when you take another look at his whole face you realize where you know him from.

“do you work at the mall?”

mike eyes widen slightly and you can see his ears redden. “yeah, i do.”

“i knew i recognize you from somewhere!”

his lips twitch up into an almost smile. “how often do you come to the mall?”

“well, i’ve been making very frequent trips since some of my families’ birthdays are coming up soon. they all seem to be born one month after the other. and then, of course, when i come home i realize i forgot to get something.”

“i think i’ve seen you, too.” mike’s eyes flicker down your body and a thrill runs up your spine.

“you work in security, right?” you ask. “i do,” he nods.

“well, you are great at doing your job. you saved my life today.”

“well, technically i’m just supposed to make sure nobody is stealing anything. so, i was just doing what a good samaritan is supposed to do.”

“believe it or not, not everyone would do what you did. especially if we were in a crowd of people. i might have legitimately died, or gotten seriously hurt.”

“i’m glad i was here to help, then.”

mike can’t help but feel a small ounce of pride fill his chest. he’s always been a pretty humble guy, and he knows that him saving you from an asshole of a driver was what he was supposed to do. but he’s spent most of his life feelings helpless and worthless. he can’t hold down a job, he’s doing a terrible job of raising abby — by everyone’s standards, at least — and he just feels like he’s living the same day over and over again. he feels like he’s going nowhere and that he’s stuck permanently, like his feet are cemented to the ground and he will never be able to move.

but being here with you, his day feels a little different. he feels a little lighter and happier, even. he feels like he finally did something good in his life.

“god, finally,” you sigh in relief as the cross walk gives you the go.

you and mike both take a moment to make sure no one is coming. you two share a little laugh before walking across the street.

“it was nice meeting you, mike,” you smile as you head towards the entrance of the mall.

“you, too. i hope you’re able to find a gift,” he says. “so, you were listening to my conversation earlier,” you raise a brow.

his jaw drops a little. “i-i —”

you laugh, “i’m just teasing. i know i’m a loud talker. i hope I’m able to find a gift, too.”

“there’s a gamestop inside near the build-a-bear, if you haven’t looked there yet.”

“i will definitely check it out, thank you. maybe i’ll see you around?” you ask. you hope you don’t sound as hopeful as you feel. mike doesn’t seem to notice, but he seems to feel the same.

“definitely,” he smiles. you give him a little wave as you make your departure from him. he watching your retreating figure. for the first time ever, he is actually looking forward to his security job in hopes of seeing you sometime soon.

————

taglist

@celestbarnes

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Spring Date HCS (Kaeya, Diluc, Albedo)

I always love it when spring finally comes around. Even though the grass where I live is almost perpetually green (like wtf??!! How can it be freaking Christmas and some of the grass is green?!!!), I love seeing the trees start to bud out. And the sun. Having the sun out more is nice too

Under the cuts, spring dates with Kaeya, Diluc,  and Albedo

GN reader

cw: slight mention of after hours fun. Not much because that’s a different set off head canons entirely, but it’s there

Kaeya

His first suggestion was to go drinking

Of course the answer was no, not happening

So instead you’re walking around on the Mondstadt version of a mall date

Kaeya seems like he’s the type who looooves PDA, so he’s always holding your hand

Or maybe you’re holding his hand because he’s definitely the type to tease you with little touches that are designed to turn the date very R18 by the end of the day

To be fair, he really doesn’t have to try that hard

He’s hot and charming and he uses it to full effect

In the evening you two climb up venti’s statue (Kaeya is a charmer and will happily go the extra mile. Probably made you a pretty staircase else style to get up there too hehe)

You sit and he pulls you closer so that your head rests against his chest

And the two of you want the sunset from the best seats in city

Diluc

Have you seen this man’s voice lines?

The guy is sweet as hell (10/10 would date)

He picked you up, right on time and had roses waiting. Really nice ones because he can definitely afford them

Instead of staying in the city, you two went out on horse back

Brought a picnic lunch

But most of the time is spent riding and talking. Or riding and not talking. 

The both of you are just happy to have a day off with no real itinerary

Just let the wind lead

So around lunch time you guys find a nice spot-- preferably slime free, but Diluc doesn’t have any problems clearing a spot for you if the spot is nice enough’

You eat lunch and continue just handing out

Really date day is the day that both of you can just be you

You watch the sunset while you’re out

And when you get back into the city he walks you to your door, gives you a goodbye kiss that might turn into more but shhh

Albedo

Last but not least

Our favorite Mondstadt nerd

It’s not on Dragonspine

You put your foot down on that one. No freezing on a spring date

You also handed off Klee to Kaeya archons save us all so the two of you have time alone

I’d say it’s a work date, because his work is basically being as curious as possible, but really, his focus is on you

He can’t stop being curious

But he’ll spend the entire time studying you, figuring out what makes you laugh and smile and then work on doing those things

He seems like the kind who remembers all of the small stuff

If you told him your favorite flower, that’s what he brings you when he picks you up or greets you at the foot of Dragonspine

After that you go exploring

Not unlike with Diluc, but with Albedo your wandering has a distinct purpose

For some reason the desire to know is just there when you’re around Albedo

Not that you’ll complain, not when his attention is on you

If your hair is in your face, he’ll tuck it behind your ear, letting his fingers linger on the edge, feeling the skin only he gets to feel and feeling a certain amount of satisfaction that your his

Even if he doesn’t talk much, he listens. He’ll respond when need be, but he really does love to listen

While you’re out, you eat a picnic lunch he packed and then continue walking around

Instead of taking you home that night, he brings you up to his cave in Dragonspine

It wouldn’t be the first night you’ve spent there and it beats the noise of Mondstadt city in the spring

And there’s no one to hear if you decide the two of you want to do some more intimate experimentation

[gemini-sensei]

My Best Friend, Really? | Jaime Reyes x Chubby!Reader

CW: spoilers for the movie, secret relationship, sneaking around, steamy but no smut. Request: What abt the reader being bsfs with Milagro and secretly dating Jaime? Tags: @elisiassideb1tch A/N: I love this but I'm not sure I did it justice, so I hope you all enjoy it <3

The Reyes home was familiar and homey everytime Reader came over, even after it was destroyed and needed a lot of repair. There was never a dull moment in that home, so of course Reader was there to help clean up and start over. No matter what, she'd always be there for her best friend Milagro.

It didn't hurt that Milagro's brother Jaime was smoking hot.

Reader was around so much, she knew about Jaime's secret. She was there to witness the Scarab choose him and it freaked her out. Everything that happened after - with Victoria Kord and Mr. Reyes dying - she saw them through it. She was there for Milagro and the whole Reyes family. She even helped save him.

It was also the even that pushed them together.

After everything, when they had a moment alone, Jaime approached her...

"Reader," he said, voice trailing off as he looked for the right words to say. "I know this has been a lot for you, trust me I know. But I'm glad you were there with my family, I mean, you're practically a part of my family."

"That's sweet," Reader had said, smiling. For a moment, it hurt. She thought he saw her as another younger sister, not something more. Her little crush on his was, well, crushed. But only for a moment. "Thanks for thinking of me that way."

"No, shit," he let out and licked his lips. "That's not what I meant."

"So I'm not like family?"

"You are but you're not."

"Jaime, you're not making any sense..."

"I'm sorry, this is coming out all wrong and- whoa!"

The Scarab, Khaji Da as Reader had come to know it, had used its connection to Jaime to push him into her. It's arms came out to brace against the wall, protecting him as always but effectively pinning Reader to the wall behind her. She stared up at him as he stammered an apology, but she wasn't listening very well. All she heard were the implications Khaji was trying to tell her. So, she took a leap of faith:

"Just kiss me already."

He smiled and did just that.

And while the beginning of their relationship was beautiful and bloomed into something fantastic and wonderful, there was one thing keeping them from sharing it with the rest of the world: Milagro.

She was rather vocal about her brother "staying out of their business" when Reader came over to hang out. When they were young, they'd go to her room and spend time trying new makeup styles to match their clothes, doing each other's nails as they talked about school and movies and whatever was happening in their lives. Jaime was never invited to such things. Whenever Reader took too long getting a drink from the fridge, it was because Jaime stopped her and Milagro would come in to drag her away.

"Go make your own friends," she'd say and stick her tongue out at him.

As they got older, the attraction between Jaime and Reader became too much to deny and they didn't try to stop it. They only hide it from his sister.

But as Reader walked up to the Reyes house, she realized how hard that becoming. When she sat with Milagro in the living room, watching TV, she realized how badly she wanted Jaime on her other side. The two laughed at the TV and made fun of the characters when they made dumb decisions, but deep down Reader wasn't having as much fun. She got too easily distracted when Jaime walked through the room.

Milagro caught her and groaned, rolling her eyes back in a dramatic eye roll. "You're not even paying attentions anymore."

"Sorry," Reader said and turned her attention to her best friend. She smiled even though he eyes wanted to cut back to Jaime. "Maybe we should watch something else? Or go out? We could go to the mall and make fun of all the poorly dressed mannequins."

Milagro hummed, giving her friend a strange look. Jaime walked through again and sparred Reader a look, smiling her way, making Milagro sigh. "Yeah, let's go. Are you driving?"

"You know it," Reader giggled.

That was only the beginning of everything coming undone.

As time passed, Milagro noticed her brother wearing stupid goofy grins whenever he was texting on his phone. He was out a little more than usual, aside from being the great hero Blue Beetle - though he definitely tried to use that as an excuse sometimes. She was keen on taking note of his avoiding questions about a girlfriend from their mother and nana. He was hiding a partner, Milagro just knew it, not that she could prove it though.

She tried to tease him for it but he brushed her off, saying things like "If I had a girlfriend, would you think I'd bring her around?" to which she'd say that if he did, she'd just tell his girlfriend all the embarrassing secrets she has on him. He'd rebuttal with "Another reason not to bring a girl here," with a heavy sigh.

One day, when Milagro was out, Jaime invited Reader over. They had the house to themselves as the rest of his family had gone shopping. They didn't have a lot of time, but it was enough for the two of them. They lay on his bed, entangled in each other as their lips melded together. Reader pushed her fingers into Jaime's soft hair and smiled into the kiss, almost breaking it. He nipped at her lower lip, making her moan.

Things were growing hot and Jaime pinned Reader to the mattress, straddling her hips to keep her down. He pulled away and muttered, "You're so beautiful, mi amor."

She smiled as he sat up on his knees and pulled his shirt off. Her hands wandered his slender waist and up to his toned muscles. He was too hot, burning her up just because she was looking at him.

"It should be illegal to be this hot," she told him.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her once more. His hands slid up her waist and squeezed her sides, making her moan and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. One of her hands went back into his hair, curling her fingers into the thick locks and tugging lightly. He moaned loudly, which would make her giggle if it weren't for his tongue exploring ever crevice of her mouth.

She gently bucked her hips up to further tease him, feeling his hard-on poke her belly. He groaned again and she knew she had him right where she wanted him, making noise and nearly whimpering for her, so she continued the motion.

He pulled away when it became too much. "Oh fuck, Reader, you're gonna-"

The door swung open with a lough exclamation of "Aha!" followed by a shocked "Oh my God!"

The couple turned to the bedroom door, where Milagro stood under its archway with wide eyes. They didn't say anything, shocked and embarrassed to have been caught like this.

They knew she was closing in on them, at least on her brother and his mysterious girlfriend. However, they had not yet figured out a way to tell her about them. Now they didn't have to worry about telling her at all, but this was exponentially worse than what they thought it could have been.

"My best friend, really?" Milagro asked, staring her brother down. Then she turned her attention to Reader. "My brother? Are you serious?"

Reader opened her mouth to say something, but closed it as she realized she didn't know what to say. Everything in her heart combatted her brain and she didn't know what was the right and wrong thing to say. She looked at Jaime, who had moved himself off of her to sit beside her. They were still very close, his bed only a single mattress which gave them little space to do much.

"Mili, I-" Jaime started, realizing that he needed to be the one to say something. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

She shook her head. "Oh, don't even try that."

"I'm serious," he said, grabbing his shirt and pulling it back on. "We wanted to tell you, but we just didn't know how."

"Well, let me help you out there," she said, smiling wide and obviously fake. She put on a pleasant voice. "Hey, sis, I just wanted to let you know that I'm fucking your best friend. Is that okay with you? What? It isn't? Well, about that..."

"It's not like that," Reader said, putting her face in her hands to hide the embarrassment she was feeling at that implication. She didn't blame her for thinking that, she'd literally walked in on them about to get it on, if they were even gonna go that far. She took a deep breath and looked up at Milagro. "We really like each other... we have for a while."

The sweet words Jaime had told Reader came to mind, how he'd always thought of her as beautiful. How when he thought he was going to lose everything, she was a part of that everything. She was a big part of his life and that wasn't going to change no matter what. They were close and it was an undeniable fact how that closeness had morphed into love.

"Please, don't be mad at her," Jaime said, looking back at Reader with soft, beautiful eyes. He stared at her for a moment before turning back to his sister and telling her, "I told her that you wouldn't like this. It's my fault it all happened like this. We just didn't want to upset you."

Milagro scoffed. "I'm not upset that you are together. I'm shocked Reader would wanna be with you. I mean, she was here for the kiddie pool incident. I'm more upset that you think I'd be upset about it. Yeah, you're my brother-" she looked at Reader next, "and you're my best friend, you didn't have to hide this from me."

"We're so sorry," Reader said, the guilt finally eating her up. However, with the secret exposed, it was starting to shift and disappear. Her heavy heart wasn't so heavy anymore. "We overthought it, I guess."

"Yeah, you did," Milagro sighed. She shook her head with a little eye roll. "So, how long?"

"Huh?" Jaime let out.

"How long have you two been sneaking around?"

"Four months."

"I knew it," she said and pointed a finger in her brother's face. "At least now you can't deny you have a girlfriend."

"Are you serious right now? That's what you're most concerned with?"

Reader giggled as she watched the siblings banter with one another. It brought some familiarity back to the situation and she was thankful for it. There was nothing better than having her best friend and her boyfriend getting along, well as much as they usually did at the very least.

"Just don't make out with me around, I don't need to see that," Milagro said. She stuck her tongue out in disgust to make her point. Then she moved her hands in circles to gesture to the room. "And whatever you two were about to do in here, don't do it when I'm home. O r actually, don't do it here at all. I don't wanna know you guys do it here."

It was Jaime's turn to roll his eyes. "Well, since you brought it up, you should know that we-"

"Ah! No, leave me out of it," she said and turned to leave. "Keep it to yourselves!"

Jaime smirked and turned to Reader, who was a little flustered after that. He eased it with a small kiss and sighed. "I guess we can always go to your place..."

"That might be for the best," she giggled. However, the mood was ruined, and all she had to say for now was, "She took that well."

They laughed together he hugged her, pulling her close to kiss the side of her face. She fell into a fit of giggles as he pulled her to lay with him on the bed, holding her close. It was all she needed at that moment and it was perfect. Though she expected a lot of teasing in the coming days, which was okay by her. She could take it so long as her boyfriend was by her side and receiving the same amount, likely more, of treatment.

[traveler-at-heart]

Shopping

Summary: Natasha hates shopping, but an incident might change her mind.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Who knew saving the world was so much work.

Specifically, paperwork. 

Thor, unfamiliar with Earth’s customs and the bureaucracy of any organization, always had trouble filing his reports. You volunteered to spare him of endless hours sitting in front of a computer and to save Steve the frustration of trying to figure what the god meant when he wrote things like “the screams of our victims can be heard from Hell”

Only, you had been at it for almost three hours now. You stretch, feeling your back muscles strained.

Time for a snack break. 

Which you were doing, eating cereal and browsing through some emails. There’s a sale at your favorite store. Maybe, if you find the right outfit, you’ll agree to that blind date Tony’s been nagging you about. 

The day seems to be getting better, until Sam rushes past you, mumbling.

“Run, hide, anything”

“What?” you say, mouth full of cereal. He’s already gone. Five seconds later, Natasha storms in. “Oh, hey, Nat”

She glares and you gulp down the rest of your food. Against your better judgment, you smile again and ask her if she wants to go shopping. You can’t stop talking, she makes you that nervous. 

“I hate shopping”

You already know it and she tells you for good measure, before rolling her eyes and leaving the kitchen.

Right.

“Bucky, she’s alive,” Sam whispers as you walk back to your room. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She was pissed. Had an argument with Tony” Bucky barely opens his door.

“They always do” 

“Romanoff looked ready to kill him”

“She always does. And why are you hiding behind the door?” you look at Bucky.

“He ate all of Romanoff’s angry cookies” Sam replies.

“Terrible timing”

“Yeah” Bucky sighs, peaking around to see if Natasha is coming to kick his ass. Frankly, you wouldn’t stop her.

“Well, if you’re done gossiping, I have a shower to take”

“Where you going?”

“Shopping” you immediately shut down Sam’s curious tone. These boys are so nosy.

“Can I come?”

“Absolutely not. You always flirt with the girls and I can never get them to help me out”

“Oh, come on”

“Knock it off or I’m telling Nat you ate those cookies”

“No!” he sprints down to his room, while Bucky shuts the door so fast, you swear the wood cracks.

Ugh, it’s like living with teenagers. Thankfully, you have a plan. As you suspect, Natasha is going around the kitchen cabinets, mumbling something about “killing Barnes”

“Hey” you don’t expect her to respond or turn around, so you just place the package on the counter. “I know those man babies eat everything on sight, so I always have some saved in my room. Your favorites” 

Natasha stops her movements, but still won’t turn around. 

“Thanks” she finally says as you walk back to your room.

You wish it was enough to make her feel better. You also wish she trusted you enough to vent about what it is she’s so upset about. 

But with Natasha, there’s always been a wall. You don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, because you find her so attractive, endearing and even cute. 

If you get close, then you’re sure it’s going to evolve from slight crush to full time pining.

That can’t happen.

These thoughts take up most of your shower time and as you get ready to leave, you only turn around once to check your hair.

There’s a surprise waiting for you at the garage. Someone sitting on the driver’s seat of your car.

Natasha looks up and smirks.

“I don’t let anyone else drive”

“Mind you, I’m more worried about how you broke into my car without the alarm blaring” you tsk as she takes the keys from your hand.

She shrugs her shoulders and to your surprise, guesses which mall you’re heading to.

“I notice things too”

“You’re talking about those cookies?”

“I guess”

“Well, you’re always welcome to get them from my room. Secret cabinet behind the mirror”

“Nice”

You chuckle and she actually looks like her mood is improving.

And you… you are approaching the pining stage at an alarming rate.

--

“So, what are you looking for?” she asks when you finally get to your favorite clothing store. Natasha looks completely out of place between the lighting and the bland pop music playing in the background.

When she turns around, she finds you putting some lingerie sets over your clothed body, evaluating the shape and color.

She’s thankful you’re too focused on your own reflection to catch her blushing madly. Now is not the best time to picture you wearing one of those sets.

“Oh, maybe something to go on a date” you reply, choosing the black lingerie.

That answer is enough to put her in a bad mood again. 

After a few minutes looking around, you sense that she’s starting to get impatient. Natasha shrugs her shoulders at every dress you show her. You might as well be holding a hot dog suit to get her approval.

“Alright, I’m going to the dressing room. Hold this” you give her your purse, to guarantee she won’t flee the minute you close the door.

“Don’t be long” she mumbles when you’ve barely taken your top off. Without thinking much about it, you peak through the door and smile mischievously.

“Relax. If you’re a good girl I’ll get you something nice”

The redhead blushes furiously as you close the door again. You think it’s pointless to show her the dress, thinking she’ll just shrug and make a non committal hum. 

You’re on dress number three and think it’s the best one yet. 

“Shit” your smile is quickly replaced by a frown when you realize the zipper on the back is stuck. “Nat” you call frantically for her.

“What?”

“I’m stuck”

“What…?”

“Come here” you jump out of the dressing room and pull her inside, shutting the door behind you. “The zipper. Can you pull it down?”

“Y-yes”

“Ok, go” you move your wavy hair out of the way, expecting it to be over with one swift motion.

But Natasha’s touch is surprisingly soft and delicate. You feel her breath close to your neck. Fuck.

“Fuck” Natasha says and you snap back.

“What is it?”

“It’s really stuck” she sits on the little chair at the corner of the room and pulls you along. As she keeps trying to undo the zipper, your body gives in, sitting almost on her lap, your back to her front.

“Almost… there” she grunts, pulling so hard that you end up actually sitting on her lap, squealing at the force of her movements. “Sorry, sorry, I got you”

“I thought I was gonna die” you sigh, not moving away from arms that are circling your waist.

“Trained spy is scared of a little fabric?”

“Jerk” you stand up, but the dress is halfway down, limiting your movements. It falls completely to the ground, you stumble and turn, landing once again on Natasha’s lap, this time face to face.

Or rather… Breasts to face. She has her entire face on your lingerie clad breasts.

“Jesus, Nat, I’m sooo sorry…” your apology dies down when you feel strong arms pulling you closer. You look down and find emerald eyes, pupils dilated with lust and lips parted, waiting for permission to move forward.

There’s not much else to think about, so you place your hands on either side of her face and kiss her, desperate and fast. Natasha moans against your mouth, moving down to your neck and sucking until she leaves a mark. Her expert fingers are trying to unclasp your bra when...

“Everything ok in there?” a store clerk asks. You break apart, feeling frustrated and very much turned on.

“Yeah, I’m almost done here!” you shout, a little too out of breath.

“I think your friend left. She really hates shopping, huh?”

“Oh, I think I’ve managed to change her mind” you wink at Natasha before putting your clothes back on.

--

“Stop” Natasha says as you head back to the Compound, one hand on the wheel and the other hovering above your leg.

“I’m not…!”

“You’re staring”

“You’re a really good kisser”

The redhead blushes and you think you’re in love.

No turning back now.

“So… when’s your date?”

“I don’t know, when are you free?”

“But I thought...”

“Tony was insisting on setting me up. That was before I knew my not-so-secret crush wanted to have her way with me in a dressing room” 

For the first time ever, Natasha is speechless and you laugh.

“So how about tomorrow?” she finally asks as she parks your car.

“That works for me” you walk side by side and then smile. “See? Aren’t you glad you went shopping with me today? You got to pick the clothes you’ll rip off of me” 

Natasha stops walking, and she’s actually considering just taking you up to her room right now.

“Tomorrow” you promise, smiling as you peck her lips.

--

“Hey”

“Yes, Sam?” you still have a silly smile, walking back to your room.

“I just saw Natasha and she smiled at me. Do you think she’s ok?”

“Yes, Sam” you roll your eyes, but he keeps staring. “What?”

“What’s that thing on your neck?”

Fuck. You slap your hand over the hickey and rush to your room.

“None of your business”

“As long as you keep her happy!”

“Shut up, Wilson”

[warping-realities]

Keeping Up With Old Friends (by the best of all @dumb-and-jocked & @callmecallmecrazy

It's a great pleasure to make images for this collaboration between two of my favorite authors. I had permission from both of them to do this and I spent a considerable amount of time trying to be up to par with their work, I don't know if I managed it but I still hope it's to your liking.

“Phil? Is that you?” Geoff could’ve sworn the man in front of him was an old classmate of his, having been lab partners their freshman year. The two had connected fairly well, with Geoff having hung out with the free-thinking, pot-smoking, curly-haired flower child a lot more than he thought he would. Except, scruffy and shaggy Phil was replaced with tailored-beard and straightened-locks Phil. Not only that, but his usual oversized hoodie and sweats had been replaced with a properly fit tee and jeans.

“Geoff! Hey man, how’s it going.” His voice was still the same lively and flamboyant pitch that it had always been. Phil met his friend in a hug over the cash register, squeezing Geoff a little harder than he had been prepared for.

“Surprised to see you here,” Geoff half-joked, knowing that the old Phil would never come close to a shopping mall, let alone a department store. If the job wasn’t so easy and the pay wasn’t so good, Geoff wouldn’t have ever entered either. Too bad college was so expensive.

“Ha! Yeah man, turns out they have some good stuff! Plus, it’s close to where I live.”

“Oh, did you finally move out of the dorms?”

“Yeah, I moved into the Kappa Sigma Alpha house.” The big smile he offered was met by a wide-eyed stare from Geoff. Phil was a free spirit, one who practically came out of the ‘60s. Last they’d talked, he’d been planning on living at an eco-friendly miniature house, certainly not at “prespter-prick incorporated”.

“What happened to living green?”

“Ya know, I wanted a change.” Phil shoved his hands into his pockets. “Plus, college loans are really bringing me down. I needed to save some money and fast. My uncle got me an in with the fraternity; he’s an alum.”

“Aren’t they, like, totally pretentious?” Geoff countered. “We used to joke about those preppy freaks and their smug arrogance.” 

Phil frowned, his expression made it seem as if he’d taken personal offense.

“Hey man, they’re cool. After my uncle had pointed out that I was a legacy, I got headhunted by the rush chair.  I’m not one of those over-confident princes having yacht parties and spending time at the country club.” Geoff’s tense muscles eased a little, causing Phil to smile. “I don’t think they do that kinda stuff anymore anyway.”  

He glanced at his phone, and then back at Geoff. Getting the message, Geoff quickly processed his items and had Phil pay. He was surprised to see Phil was buying more normal clothes. Cheap, standard tops and bottoms that were neither flamboyant or tame: just generic.

“Hey man, great seeing you,” Phil concluded the conversation politely. “Maybe we’ll hang out sometime? I gotta get back to the house!”

Geoff watched Phil walk out, noticing how well he filled out his jeans. The Phil he knew had been a short, skinny beanpole, similar to Geoff’s height but with less pudge. However, the new Phil’s buttocks had developed a sort of plumpness, just barely curving the pants out awkwardly as he walked away. 

“That was so strange,” Geoff said aloud, but he assumed that people changed. Phil seemed happy and healthy, and as long as he was saving money Geoff was happy for him. Maybe he always wanted to join a frat?

For the rest of his shift, Geoff continued thinking about the peculiar interaction, but by the end of the day he was too exhausted to think about anything. Once he had gotten back to his dorm, he lethargically changed and jumped into his bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

— —

“Phil? Is that you?” The big man standing in front of the counter didn’t exactly physically resemble Phil. He was fairly big at about 5 ‘10 (a few inches taller than Phil) and the Henley shirt he wore couldn’t hide the beginnings of bulging pecs. And his hair, last time uncoiled but still at shoulder-length, was sheared down, pushed up, and shiny from cheap gel. The face was still the same, even though the hair made his face look a little square.

The young man looked back at Geoff confused for a moment before a tinge of understanding glittered in his eyes.

“Geoff Elliot,” his voice was noticeably slower and deeper than last time. While Geoff went in for a hug, Phil replied with a one-armed embrace and pat on the back. He practically grimaced when Geoff attempted for more affection.

“Phil! Man, it’s been awhile. I haven’t seen you since your last time here.”

“Yes, Geoff, I’ve been very busy with school. And please, call me Phillip, it’s more traditional.”

“Wow, still living with the Kappa Sigmas?”

“Yes, I’ve been acquainting very well. What about you, Geoff?”

“Oh ya know, I’m still in old Walker. It isn’t great, but it’s definitely got a sweet spot in the middle of campus.”

“Living comfortably?”

“Ha, you know I’m not.”

“I can tell,” Phillip noted Geoff’s pale skin and tired eyes. Geoff was taken aback by the outright disdain.

“Well, I’ve got to work if I want to get a degree.” Phillip just nodded, causing Geoff to carry the conversation. “You’re looking good. Do the Kappa Sigmas expect gym time?”

“Yes,” Phillip’s stern demeanor dropped a touch, allowing a bit more levity in his voice. “There’s an expansive gym at the country club. It’s free and they even give you a few hours a day to use it!” 

He was practically giddy as he talked, allowing Geoff to relax a bit. This was the Phil he knew, chirpy and friendly though now not as exceptionally outgoing. And if Geoff was being honest, Phil seemed extremely content with his new situation. 

“Have you picked up any sports? It seems like you’ve got the bod now,” Geoff joked, knowing that Phil hated physical activity. He playfully slapped one of Phil’s broad shoulders and was shocked at how firm the muscle was.

“I’ve been doing a lot of golf! I play with several of the other guys and even some of my uncle’s coworkers. I’m getting my handicap down too.”

“Oh, you’re playing golf?” Geoff hadn’t expected an answer, but if one came he would’ve guessed football or baseball–not golf.

“Yes, it’s very enjoyable. And great for business bonding. Chance for us men to talk about the frat, women, sports and the like. Say, you watch the game last weekend?”

That was wholly unlike Phil, but Geoff guessed he was probably throwing himself into the fraternity world.

“Nah, man, I’m not into basketball.”

“It’s football season.” His reply was so direct and unvarnished that Geoff had to grip the counter for support. “I know not everyone is into the NFL, but I assumed you would at least watch like any other man. And our team is having an exceptionally great season. 4-0 in conference play.”

Phillip kept talking about football as Geoff stared deep into his eyes. Was this really Phil? The guy used to pretend like he didn’t know what sports were. What was happening to him?

“Anyway, Geoff, it’s been great catching up,” Phillip said, dumping his items onto the register. Geoff was surprised to notice that Phil was purchasing only name brand items. Not expensive, but not generic either. “Maybe we can grab some beers and watch a game sometime.” 

Phillip hastily paid for all of his items and walked out. Geoff couldn’t help but notice the increasingly larger derrière. His buttocks had developed a shelf-like quality, curving the cheap khakis out as he walked away. Its slight jiggling motion was a stunning contrast to the hard muscle covering the rest of his body.

“Yeah, great to see you Phil-lip,” Geoff forced out the last syllable. This was not the Phil he knew, but instead some dude named Phillip. Geoff continued on with the rest of his shift, the interaction slipping from his mind at the end of the day when he collapsed into bed.

— —

“Phil? Is that you? I mean, Phillip?” Geoff had hoped he wouldn’t see him again after their last encounter, but when he saw this barely-familiar-looking man his curiosity got the best of him. He told himself it was all in his head, but everything about these encounters were disturbing. Geoff wasn’t sure if it was steroids as his former buddy’s growth seemed extremely quick, but it could’ve just been the sudden makeover too. What was even crazier was the man next to him was somehow larger.

This Phillip was 6’4 and wore a baby blue oxford button-up with a yellow and blue striped repp tie. The shirt looked ready to burst as it was tight against the two firm mounds sticking out of the young man’s chest. On top of the set was a two-button navy blazer with the letters KE on the left side, which Geoff assumed stood for Kappa Sigma. His hair was much different, for the overgrown shag was now neatly cut, with short sides and tapered across the crown. The ivy league was sharply parted on the left side and held sturdily in place by an expensive looking pomade. Not only had his hair transformed, but his face had undergone a dramatic change too. His jaw, formerly a little pointed and sharp, spread wide and hung low, giving his face a distinguished lantern shape to match his newly-cleft chin. 

This Phillip stood ramrod straight while searching through a rack of new suits from Brooks Brothers. The man next to Phillip was older but otherwise nearly identical. He was thicker around the middle, but any gut he might have was hidden by the extremely high rise of his pants, sitting above his belly button just under the rib cage. His tie was black and grey with a subtle windowpane pattern, and his suit shared a similar palette.

The other man stared at Geoff for a moment before tapping Phillip on the shoulder.

“Pierson,” his voice was slow and deep. “I believe this boy is trying to get your attention.” 

The younger man turned towards the counter to see Geoff. A faint bit of recognition crossed his face momentarily.

“Geoff Elliot.” The voice was practically monotone, low and deep. He took a few powerful steps forward and offered a large, coarse handshake.

“Uncle,” Phillip turned to face the older man. “This is a friend from college, Geoff Elliot. Geoff, this is my uncle.” He gestured robotically between the two. The uncle offered his hand and it was the same rough shake.

“Nice to meet you…” Geoff sort of trailed off, hoping to get a first name.

“John Howard Johnson.” The reply was colorless. “Mr. Johnson will do.”

“Alright,” Geoff simply replied. “So, Phillip-”

“Please call me Pierson,” Phillip said curtly. “My uncle thinks I would be better suited professionally as Pierson.” The way he spoke, extremely even in both rhythm and pitch, was unnerving.

Geoff could make out some of Phil’s features in the hulking face before him. An upturned nose and naturally thin eyebrows over wide eyes resembled the Phil he knew. But the rest of the face clearly belonged to this cocky fratboy named Pierson.

“Okay, Pierson. So, any news about Greek Life?”

“I am very happy with the Kappa Sigmas. Life there is perfectly preppy.”

“That’s great. Glad to hear you’re doing good!”

“Yes, my uncle believes after college I will be an ideal candidate for his company, Hemplebaum Inc..”

“That place downtown with office drones filling foreclosures and manipulating bank accounts?”

“Correct,” Pierson stated blatantly.

“Huh, okay.” Geoff was getting sick of this conversation, and of this act. There was obviously something going on here, so he decided to just ask about it flat out.

“How long are you going to keep this up, Phil?”

“Pierson.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Geoff retorted. He knew it probably wasn’t best to argue with customers during his shift, but this was more important than a job. “How are you willing to sell your soul to some frat? We used to joke about these guys! Can’t you see something is wrong?”

“I’m offended by your tone, Geoff. And honestly,” he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves while disgustingly eyeing Geoff’s uniform. “I grew up. You could do with some growing.”

“You’ve grown into a mindless fratboy.”

“And you, Geoff, are still a child. We ‘mindless fratboys’ are very well groomed and dressed. We speak with clarity and courtesy, and are diligent and helpful. We truly represent the apex of manhood.”

“Pierson,” Mr. Johnson suddenly interrupted the argument. Pierson stiffened up and faced his uncle. “I’m glad you had this chance to catch up with your acquaintance, but we have wasted time.”

“Of course, Uncle.” 

They turned to leave, but Pierson swiftly reached into a blazer pocket and pulled out a thick black card. 

“If you ever decide to grow up.” Pierson placed it on the register before he and his uncle left, giving Geoff a good look at their backsides. Despite the broad shoulders and bulging pectorals, both had a distinctly pear shaped body, with wide hips and massive butts that shook just a touch as they walked. Pierson’s rump was especially luscious, bouncing around inside those tight, pastel madras shorts. It gave Geoff a boner as he watched it wiggle. Sure, the man was the monster that replaced his old friend, but he had to admit the new douchebag look was kind of hot.

Geoff grabbed the card from the counter and examined it. It was a thick card stock and slightly textured with the Greek letters obnoxiously large in one corner. Right in the middle read “Pierson Buckley Folsom VI,” infuriating Geoff. That was absolutely not his last name, in fact none of those were his names! Had he changed his entire personality to fit in with these people?  Had Phil been putting on a fake persona the entire time he was in college? Was this who he truly was? Geoff calmed himself down before reasoning that the name changing was a deeper sign. This whole thing had become so ridiculous he couldn’t just ignore it. He’d have to do some investigating.

— —

“This is Pierson Buckley Folsom VI.” 

Geoff didn’t actually want to go through with his plan, but he had to make an attempt. If he could insert himself safely into this Pierson’s friend group, he might just be able to figure out what happened to Phil. Sure, Geoff wasn’t really built for the whole undercover thing, but he owed it to his old friend. Plus, Geoff knew if he let the matter sit, it would just continue to haunt him.

“Hey, Pierson. This is Geoff.” 

“Hello Geoff, how may I assist you?” He was already straight to the point.

“Well, you know I was thinking about what you said back in the mall. Growing up and all that stuff.”

“Ah,” Pierson’s stale voice came from the other end. “I assume you are interested in becoming a Kappa Sigma then?”

“Yes.” Geoff swallowed before continuing, “I would like to become a Kappa Sigma.”

“If that is so,” Pierson began monotonously. “We have a rush event this weekend at the Rolling Acres Country Club. Come golfing this weekend, I know you will enjoy it.”

“That sounds exciting!” It totally did not. He did not want to go to a rush event in the most posh, expensive neighborhood in the city. “What do I need to wear? I’m sure they have a dress code.”

“Meet me at the Kappa Sigma house before. I will have appropriate clothing.”

“Sounds good, thank you for your help, Pierson.”

“You are welcome, Geoff.” 

And just like that, the plan was in motion. This weekend, Geoff would be infiltrating enemy territory, so it was now time to do some research. He didn’t want to be suspicious, but as far as he could tell, the only person who thought something was amiss was him.

— —

The Kappa Sigma Alpha house was a well-built, classic home that looked like it belonged in Connecticut or somewhere else classy. The elegant mansion was extremely large, just like all of its brothers. It was so huge in fact that it had a room strictly dedicated for watching football, and that wasn’t even the media room! According to Pierson, there was a room with a movie projector on another floor. The football room was just a man cave according to him, except it was a sunlit, high-ceilinged game room. It was about five times bigger than the dorm Geoff was currently living in, which was only half the size of Pierson’s room.  

When Pierson had answered the door, he was dressed in a full monochromatic suit.

Geoff had expected something more casual, so he was wearing a faded pair of khakis and a plaid button-up. Geoff’s bulkier counterpart was intensely embarrassed by his attire and insisted he put on one of his old suits. Geoff thought about protesting, but instead allowed it. He fit quite well in it, as Pierson’s old suit was from Phil’s era. Geoff hated the whole dress-up ordeal, but he needed to fit in as much as possible, and to do that he would have to do everything Pierson said. 

“Are we going golfing in suits?” Geoff asked innocently, unsure if they’d actually be participating in the sport.

“That’s absurd!” Pierson remarked, his tone just barely leaving its usual flat level as he dodged the question. “We will be changing at the club.”

Geoff couldn’t imagine how most people showed up dressed like this, but he would do whatever made Pierson comfortable. And apparently, the change had been necessary. After they got past the gate and into the main clubhouse, every man he passed had a tie on. Some of the brothers were already dressed in polos and khaki shorts, with the color of their outfits being the only way Geoff could figure out who was who. After Pierson had checked them in for the rush event, they headed to the lockers to change. Once the two had stripped, Pierson handed Geoff a small white piece of fabric. Geoff was horrified to find it was a pair of whitey-tighties, completely generic besides a tiny logo and a thin, blue line running through the band.

“What,” Geoff asked. “Dude, seriously?”

“All of us wear them,” Pierson blatantly stated, showing how he had stripped down to his own. Geoff had only noticed Pierson’s behind before, but now he took his chance to examine the whole body. Pierson was thick from below his pecs down to his butt, no real waistline. The holes for the legs in Pierson’s briefs clung tightly to his thighs, making the curve of his extremely wide buttocks stand out. His bulge was extremely pronounced too, pushing the briefs to their limit. Everything about Pierson was just so big nowadays, his proportions practically comic level. He looked good.

Knowing he had to do it, Geoff quickly stepped into the briefs. The briefs made their way up both of his legs and finally began to engulf his private regions. He pulled the waistband up and let them sink into place. The bright, white fabric comfortably held his body from the tip-top of thighs to just above his pubic bush.

“Let me help you with those.” 

Pierson glided over to Geoff and dutifully pulled the briefs higher, a lot higher. Geoff’s belly button was now completely hidden, giving him a slight wedgie and his small package an even smaller moose knuckle. His flat bottom seemed more vertical than ever, and his 3-inch soft dick was nowhere near whatever Pierson was packing. Geoff should have been in pain, he should have been protesting, but something had subtly changed inside of him. The moment was deceptively erotic, something overly-personal but seemingly inconsequential that he was giving up to fit in. The look of disgust he originally had on his face had faded away, replaced with a simple, charming smile.

With that done, Pierson handed Geoff some pink Bermuda shorts and a blue polo, each made of a stretchy and breathable material.

“You sure these are mine?” Geoff asked, noticing that the sizes were much too large. “I’m not sure I’ll fit.”

“I’m certain we’re the same size, Geoff.” Pierson replied, putting on his own set. The striped Hampton Lime polo he wore beautifully accentuated his pectoral shelf and–after being tucked into some tight cobalt Bermuda shorts–his blooming muscle gut. Geoff didn’t actually know the names of the hues, Pierson had strictly informed him beforehand. Pulled up to rest just below Pierson’s brief’s waistband, the shorts were held up by a fashionable belt that Geoff knew had a price tag with at least 3 digits. The shorts not only continued to advertise Pierson’s laughably large bottom, but also displayed powerful calves that looked as if they were stolen from a marble statue.

Although Pierson was certain they were the same size, they most certainly were not. Geoff was not surprised when his outfit failed to fit. The belt he had barely kept the shorts from falling, and even though the shirt was tucked in, it still draped over him more like a curtain. Unlike the briefs that had fit perfectly, the clothes were meant for a man much larger than him. A fraternity brother.

The final pieces were short, plain white socks and a pair of large golf shoes. Once again, Pierson had insisted the two were the same size, but Geoff knew his feet would never fit in the Size 14 giants. Even after tying the tightest knot he could, the shoes were still fairly roomy and loose, causing Geoff to focus intensely on every step in hopes of not tumbling over. Sighing in defeat, he noticed a small emblem on one of his socks, the same he had seen before on the briefs. He checked the other sock, and then also found it on his polo over the left breast. Deciding it couldn’t hurt, Geoff inquired about it.

“I don’t think I recognize this brand,” he started. “Are we wearing Ralph Lauren?”

“Not exactly,” Pierson replied, who had also finished getting dressed. “It’s a partner brand of Polo Ralph Lauren that made an exchange with the Carmichael Corporation. Apparently some financial deal.”

“What is the Carmichael Corporation?”

“They are an investing partner with Hemplebaum. The two often work together on acquisition projects. The event today is co-hosted by both companies. A lot of Kappa Sigma Alpha’s alum actually work at the companies, as the pair and the fraternity are continually functioning together. Almost like a cycle, I assume.” Pierson chuckled at that.

“I see.” Geoff smiled at the new piece of evidence. Not only did he just find that a company was in on the ordeal, but three. There was definitely something peculiar about this “financial deal,” and whatever these Hemplebaum and Carmichael organizations were, they had to be behind the disappearance of Phil.

The two then made their way out to the course. A plethora of young, muscular men and older counterparts were already golfing away, chatting merrily about subjects Geoff knew he had no interest in. Stocks and economical talk were topics that were unsurprisingly extremely boring. Pierson made sure to introduce as many people as he could as they walked along, and Geoff made sure to mentally write down each suspect in his head. 

There was Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV from Carmichael, a man slightly older than the pair but identical in size and manner to Pierson. He was wearing a violet polo, docksiders, and light gray madras shorts. Then there was Henderson Harold Hearst from Hemplebaum; he shared the same age and exaggerated proportions with Pierson’s uncle, Mr. Johnson, who was also there. He was wearing a white sports polo, black golf cap, and a pair of golf trousers that somehow expanded over his massive thighs, showing off Mr. Hearst’s thick trunks and amble, jiggly buttocks that pressed generously backwards. 

There were a plethora of other businessmen that were also introduced to Geoff along the way. Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr. from Carmichael; Emerson Foley Gillingham-Smyth from Carmichael; Rotterham Casper Cornelius Southard from Hemplebaum; John Millard Koehler III from Carmichael. All the titles and accentuated names made Geoff’s head want to explode, but he hadn’t even met a quarter of the populus yet. There were still all the Kappa Sigma boys with names like Thurston F. Walbridge IV, Wyndham Judge Kilbourn V, and Hunt Johnstonbough. Geoff couldn’t understand how people remembered all of these obsessive, extensive, and money-grubbing men and their names. All of the businessmen and fraternity brothers were just a bunch of wealthy blockheads.

A sharp, static shock zipped inside of Geoff’s high-waisted briefs, causing him to pause momentarily. The shock sent a signal up his anus and tickled his prostate ever so slightly. In his head, Geoff immediately reevaluated his previous thoughts. These men weren’t obsessive, they were just clean-cut and well-maintained. And their names weren’t extensive and money-grubbing, they were traditional, conservative, and sumptuous. These corrections brought a cordial smile to Geoff’s face. Only now noticing he had stopped walking, Geoff jogged to catch back up to Pierson, causing his slightly-larger buttocks to gingerly bob.

As they walked out onto the course, golf bags strapped across their backs, Geoff could see a tall figure in the distance seeming to greet them with a small wave. Pierson returned the gesture amiably.

“Who’s that?”

“Prescott Neilson Powers IV. I invited him to play with us. Prescott is the Kappa Sigma rush chair. ”

“You invited the rush chair?”

“Prescott, yes. He’s been a close friend since I attended preparatory school, you should know that, Geoff.”

Geoff did not know this, as Pierson hadn’t existed less than a semester ago.

“I thought you would get on quite well. Besides, he’s on good terms with many important people. If you want to join the fraternity brotherhood, no one is a better connection.”

Prescott was in stretchy plum-colored golf trousers, a ballcap with the KE logo sitting proudly on the front, and a smoky-gray polo exactly like the ones they were wearing. Geoff had a bit of a shock realizing how much Prescott looked like Pierson. His body filled out the polo tremendously with broad shoulders, baseball-like biceps, and a thick but strong core. He also had that overly-wide posterior that led into legs and calves formed by deadlifts and deep squats. His hair–which was sheared down into a practically flat bit of black hair, shiny and parted–was the only noticeable difference between the two, but otherwise Geoff might have mistaken the two for brothers or cousins.

“Greetings!” Prescott shook Pierson’s hand and pulled him in for a pat on the back. For his part, Pierson tensed up a bit but did not resist.

“Prescott Neilson Powers IV, this is Geoffrey Elliot. We had few classes together last year, and now he is interested in rushing.” Before Geoff could correct the error of his name, Prescott grabbed him into a similar handshake-to-hug.

“Pleasure to meet you, Geoffrey,” Prescott said calmly. “Well, let’s play.”

“Are we taking the cart?” Geoff asked, pointing to a line of white, polished golf carts. He really didn’t want to walk around the entire course. He hadn’t exerted that amount of physical energy since high school gym.

“Of course not!” Prescott and Pierson chortled before Prescott continued. “I’d figure us three needed to work less on our glutes and more cardio!” Prescott then reached out and gave both Pierson and Geoff hard butt slaps. Geoff wanted to object, but a momentarily jarring jolt from his briefs once again silenced him.

“We all know this will not be enough to alleviate that problem,” Pierson quipped as they made their way to the first hole. Geoffrey completely forgot what he was thinking about and followed with a polite smile, his shorts now tighter against his inflated rump.

Prescott was extremely friendly and a little physical. Upon learning that Geoffrey had never golfed, Prescott took it upon himself to teach him everything he could, resulting in him saddling up behind him to correct stance and form, but also jokingly pressing his crotch into Geoffrey’s butt and thrusting. The boys all laughed at the horseplay, with Geoffrey nervously trying to hide his boner. If he wanted to fit in around these traditional, conservative men, he’d have to be a lot more careful. Luckily, his member had softened before anyone noticed, returning to its previous 4-inches soft.

Geoffrey had a hard time hating Prescott and the Kappa Sigma brothers. Taking away all the pomp of politics and social structure, Prescott seemed to be an incredibly friendly alpha; the kind of guy who would be quarterback, homecoming king, and class president (all things Geoffrey learned Prescott was). Geoffrey began to recognize that all the Kappa Sigma, Carmichael, and Hemplebaum men had so many things in common. There were so many things about them that Geoffrey really liked. They were gorgeously male and embodied masculine sophistication. They were groomed and cleaned, polite and cheerful. They were such ideal men, what Pierson had called “perfectly preppy”.

“My girlfriend will literally do anything I ask, that’s how dedicated she is to me!” Prescott bragged in a slow but still gloating voice.

“She was always into you,” Pierson added.

“Yes, sir. Her dad’s super rich, one of the department managers at the Carmichael Corporation. He’s inundated with old money. But what about you?” Prescott got a mischievous glint as his eyes located Pierson’s crotch. “Are you getting those fellows ready? It is almost breeding season.”

“What does that mean?” Geoffrey inquired.

“Pierson Buckley Folsom VI here is getting married.”

“Congratulations!” Geoffrey replied enthusiastically, forgetting that Pierson hadn’t had a partner less than a month ago.

“Thank you. We’re finishing some final details; her mother is very specific. Sometimes, she acts as though I’m unworthy.”

“She cannot do better,” Prescott assured.

“She is a perfectly suitable spouse. I am very pleased with the situation,” Pierson affirmed before setting up his shot and launching the ball.  He let out a whistle of appreciation as it landed in the green just a few feet away from the hole.

“Good shot,” Prescott and Geoffrey said simultaneously. Geoffrey hadn’t noticed his voice was beginning to imitate the other two’s, as it was now a little deeper and even-handed.

“Geoffrey, I know it’s late notice, but I hope you can at least attend the wedding. The club has strict guest limits and I’m running out of passes for nonmembers for the bachelor party.”

“Thank you, Pierson. I’m sure I can make it.”

Geoffrey didn’t want to attend for investigative purposes however, he just wanted to support his close friend Pierson.

“And if you join the fraternity and get your membership before, you can enjoy all the heterosexual fun.” Prescott winked at Geoffrey and snagged a nipple that was now stiffly pressed out from the polo. Geoffrey had somehow not felt the weight of his upper body before as he walked, as his chest now stuck out and increased his height by a few inches. Geoffrey should’ve cared more about his enlarged torso, but for some reason walking around with pecs straining a polo felt incredible, like a huge dose of testosterone had been injected into him.

After a few more rounds, the trio decided to take an intermission and head back to the club. The main ballroom at the Rolling Acres was a lively place stocked with booze and many other pompous and colossal-sized men. Before Geoffrey could figure out what was going on, Pierson and Prescott were already removing the caps from a collection of glass bottles and pouring multiple glasses full of amber liquid.

“Come on, sit,” Prescott instructed, slapping Geoffrey’s bottom before taking a seat. Originally, Geoffrey had intended on asking some analytical questions and refusing the drinks, but after a quick agonizing wince he discovered he didn’t want to upset his new friends, or the financial connections they represented. Taking a big swig of the liquid, he sat down in the chair, his increasingly wide and plump behind consuming nearly ¾ths of the extra wide seat.

“You’re getting pretty good at the trap shot, Pierson Buckley Folsom VI, ” Prescott toasted Pierson.

“You’re still better, Prescott Neilson Powers IV,” Pierson was already refilling his drink happily. The trio continued chatting until Pierson eventually excused himself to the toilet, leaving Geoffrey alone with a man he thought would have been detestable. But this afternoon was fun. He got a small knot in his stomach as Prescott turned to him with a viperous grin.

“Geoff? Geoff Elliot?” Prescott suddenly said, dropping his voice low. Geoffrey was confused for a moment, as he hadn’t thought of himself as Geoff in a while. It was almost shocking, but then he cautiously nodded yes.

“Please, call me Geoffrey, Prescott.”

“Oh, I will, Geoffrey,” he emphasized the name. “You look good, and I have to admit I was wrong about you, Geoffrey. When Pierson had said he had invited you, I did not think you would make it. But here you are: willing and able, and looking much better with the muscles might I add. These clothes have done wonders for you.”

“Thank you, Prescott. I am very happy spending time with the Kappa Sigma men and the alumni.” Prescott nodded and smiled as the robotic words left Geoffrey’s mouth. Geoffrey had been content with his answer, but he hadn’t processed the real meaning behind Prescott’s comment. Absentmindedly scratching his calf, he should’ve been surprised by the amount of fur that caught in his grip. It also should have shocked him how firm his muscles felt; the thick, robust quads and strong, sculpted forelegs now filled his salmon shorts appropriately. They were also helped by his waist, which had expanded out both in the pelvic and gluteal regions.

“I like having my fellow fraternity brothers around. It is truly a real lifetime bond, care to agree?” Geoffrey nodded as Prescott took another deep swig. “Something that really defines a man: who he is and who he’s going to be.” 

Prescott then seemed to stare at Geoffrey curiously. For his part, Geoffrey had no idea what to say, and so stayed silent. “If I’d known this is who you were going to be, I’d have made sure you were my brother a long time ago. Of course, I knew Geoff, but not Geoffrey. Not big, strapping Geoffrey.”

“Yes,” Geoffrey stirred his glass and sat there.

“And I still have yet to meet whom you will become. You still have a ways to go until you have finished.”

“Finished?”

“The rush event, of course. You did not think it was over, did you? It is only a quarter past one you jester!” Prescott then grabbed Geoffrey’s head and gave him a playful noogie. The respectable man’s knuckles drove apart Geoffrey’s hair, causing the slightly-greasy afro to spill out a little more.

“Your hair has been a little off today,” Prescott noted. “Did you use enough pomade this morning?”

“Yes,” Geoffrey confirmed. “I believe I did.” He fixed his hair precariously, making sure all the edges were still held together like a helmet. Geoffrey liked his textured ivy league cut chipper yet sharp, just like the fine fellows of Kappa Sigma Alpha.

“Now, Geoffrey, what do you think Geoffrey is like in college?”

“I’m Geoffrey.”

“Correct, but these past few semesters you have not been. I just wonder what you wish you had done?”

“I wish I’d attended more sports games. I love football, and enjoy playing tennis and golf.” The answers had been installed in his head without him knowing.

“Splendid!”

“I’d want to have a group of men to watch sports with,” Geoffrey added.

“Indeed, every game we have an event at the house.” 

Geoffrey stared at him with glassy eyes. He was confused. It seemed like Prescott wanted him to say something, but he could only shrug.

“Would have been nice.”

“I do hope you apply for the fraternity. The brotherhood would be a good fit for you.”

“I’ve really enjoyed myself so far,” Geoffrey admitted. “And the prospect of living in the manor is tantalizing.”

“Where are you living nowadays?”

“I have a dorm in Walker. It’s a heap, but I live alone.”

“Have you thought about living with other men? Such ideal, perfectly preppy men?”

“What?! No, I haven’t, I mean..” Geoffrey sputtered a little, not considering that factor in his infiltration plan. It seemed like a dream, to be surrounded by so many gaudy, haughty, and sexy men. After a momentary painful shudder, Geoffrey realized he would love to be surrounded by so many prosperous, presumptuous, and handsome brothers. Of course, his definition of handsome was a man who was traditional, well-heeled, and physically attractive to women. Geoffrey believed that men ought to align themselves to the only orientation, one where his 5-inch soft dick didn’t get aroused to the thought of other gentlemen.

“I’m not sure it’s right for me,” Geoffrey announced truthfully, authorizing a smirk from Prescott.

“It’s right for Geoffrey. For football-playing, fraternity brother, corporate shark Geoffrey.” Prescott smiled and got up from the table, ushering Geoffrey to follow him.

“If you become a brother, either the Carmichael Corporation or Hemplebaum will pay off your student debt as long as you work a year-long internship with them after you graduate. I can set you up.”

“Really?”

“I always support my Kappa Sigma Alpha brothers.” His impish grin was the only signal Geoffrey had before another blow to his bottom. After a little excruciating twitch, Geoffrey returned to reality, his voluminous buttocks still vibrating as they had now accumulated a soft layer of fat that made him even wider.

“Kappa Sigma Alpha, brothers strong, brothers long. Four years forged the lifetime bond!”  Prescott chanted and stared at Geoffrey. Geoffrey hesitated, but his mind wanted it so bad. He wanted Prescott to like him, to be his brother. Geoffrey wanted to be one of the classy, dashing brothers.

“Kappa Sigma Alpha, brothers strong, brothers long. Four years forged the lifetime bond.”  Prescott smiled as Geoffrey repeated the stanza back to him.

Pierson then showed up a moment later from behind them.

“What did I miss?”

“Just the rushing of our newest member here!”

“Newest member?” Pierson replied excitedly. “You are going to become a brother, Geoffrey?”

“I must!” Geoffrey replied eagerly. He wanted to become one of these perfectly preppy brothers, which kind of went against his reason for coming here in the first place. But, why was he here again? Was it not to be rushed? For some reason, Geoffrey felt like he was forgetting something, but it didn’t bother him enough to dwell on it. Any inappropriate memory of infiltration or distaste had been sapped from his increasingly cordial mind.

“That makes me so elated!” Pierson exclaimed. “Let us go find my uncle then, that way we can have him officiate the necessary forms.”

“If I can have a moment,” Geoffrey paused the celebration. “I would like to use the restroom.”

“Well…” Pierson hesitated.

“Of course!” Prescott gave a reassuring glance to Pierson, although Geoffrey didn’t know why. “Around the corner over yonder and then westbound. We will go retrieve Mr. Johnson while you alleviate.”

“My gratitude.” Not only had Geoffrey’s tone adopted the same deep, flat, and robotic tone, but his vocabulary slowly became much more sophisticated. As he strolled over to the restroom, Geoffrey now felt the weight of his body as he walked. He hadn’t noticed before, but he had settled out around 6’3 thanks to his extended limbs. His newly broadened shoulders filled out his dark periwinkle polo nicely. They made him feel like he took up the entire doorway as he entered the lavatory, and his big, wide stride made his butt and crotch kind of wiggle as he walked. He could feel the fabric of his salmon shorts tighten around his balls and release, then tighten on the other side. It was mildly arousing.

After taking a hearty leak, Geoffrey pulled his briefs back up above his belly button. It was deceptively erotic, something overly-personal but seemingly inconsequential that he was giving up to fit in. And that’s what he wanted after all, to fit in. Why be unique and different when one could be conventional, classical, and consistent? That’s why he had come here in the first place, because he wanted to be like these men. Geoffrey wanted to be a Kappa Sigma, and after that work at either the Carmichael Corporation or Hemplebaum.

Washing his hands in the sink, Geoffrey looked up and was very pleased to see the extremely handsome young man in front of him. He filled out his clothes almost to the point of bursting, from the Size 14 golf shoes to the Philadelphia blue polo. As he admired his form in the mirror, Geoffrey couldn’t help but brush the smooth-shaved line of his prominent jaw. He really could swear that his face had been almost heart-shaped, but now there was a distinctly hexagonal shape to the thing. Geoffrey was practically a hypermasculine parody: low brow, big nose, and wide jaw with a gigantic cleft chin: just like all the other men here.

Once he had finished appreciating his form, he exited the restroom and found Pierson, Prescott, and Mr. Johnson all chatting merrily. When they noticed his entrance, they immediately turned to allow him into the conversation.

“What can I do for you, Geoffrey?” Mr. Johnson asked. Geoffrey tried to find a concise answer for that question, but found that impossible.

“I want to become a Kappa Sigma and work with business and finance after graduation. I want every piece of advice you can give me.”

“Why is that?” Mr. Johnson was suppressing a smug smile though Geoffrey didn’t notice.

“I want to be just like you. And Pierson Buckley Folsom VI. And Prescott Neilson Powers IV. And all the men here at Rolling Acres.”

“Enjoy the event?”

“Immensely. I belong here with these kinds of men. I want to move into the Kappa Sigma Alpha house, not live in some pathetic university building.” He cast a disgusted look before continuing.  “I want to become an alumni and work under the Carmichael Corporation or Hemplebaum.”

Mr. Johnson smiled. “So, Geoffrey, are you willing to fully commit yourself to the Kappa Sigmas?”

“I am, sir,” he replied in a soldier-like manner.

“Excellent. Well, I can proudly say you are approaching the physical standards. Let me address one concern.” Mr. Johnson carefully moved his massive arm behind Geoffrey and patted his buttocks gently. Geoffrey didn’t react as a gentle sting pulsated his prostate and a charming smile adorned his face. Mr. Johnson’s hand moved away to reveal an enormous rump identical to the others’, one thick with muscles underneath but concealed underneath a spongy layer of fat. With the salmon Bermuda shorts now tight against his behind, the crotch of his shorts were pulled tight into a prominent moose knuckle, also showcasing his 7-inch soft dick.

“Yes, that is more appropriate.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, there is a rather large change that I believe is a necessity for your progression into the Kappa Sigmas as well as your new social circle.”

“What is that sir?”

“Your name, it is just too common and destitute. You agree?” Geoffrey snapped back confirmation even though it made his head spin. “Personally, I have always been very fond of names associated with old money.”

“You want me to change my last name?” Geoffrey asked, slightly confused.

“Not exactly. Your entire name will have to be reformed.”

“My entire name?”

“Well, I thought you wanted to succeed.”

“Yes sir.”

“So you want to change your name. What do you think would work?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“So you want my help, is that what you are saying?” The words were coming so fast and Mr. Johnson’s eyes were so enticing that Geoffrey nodded.

“Yes sir, please tell me what my name should be.”

Mr. Johnson crossed his arms over his shelf of pecs, clearly relishing in the moment even though Geoffrey had no idea why.

“This is my favorite part.” Geoffrey didn’t say anything, as his superior clearly didn’t want him to.  And he’d just asked for help so there was no need to say anything. “It’s a great moment, when you realize you want to be whatever I want you to be.” 

Mr. Johnson ceremoniously pulled a form out of his suit pocket and presented it to Geoffrey. “This is your fraternity contract. You don’t need to bother with the details. Just sign your name.“

In very literal terms, Geoffrey would be singing away his life. The fraternity, the proud men of Kappa Sigma, and all of the alumni who worked at the Carmichael Corporation and Hemplebaum were now permanently immune from any legal repercussions. Of course, there never would be, as they had plenty of experience in this sort of thing.

Geoffrey was about to sign, but he noticed a different name was listed on the contract.

“It is supposed to be made out by Godfrey Larimer Elverton Jr.?”

“A name I believe will fit you suitably.” Mr. Johnson offered a pen to Geoffrey and gave a conceited smirk. “Just sign.”

The order immediately processed through Geoffrey’s brain, bringing a clubby smile to his face as he wrote out his new signature. Once he had finished, Mr. Johnson took the contract back and made his way to the ballroom stage. He signaled for Geoffrey to follow him.

“Hello?” Mr. Johnson tested a mic, his lifeless bass resonant across the room. “I would like to request every man’s attention please.”

Geoffrey watched on as all the men in the room turned to look their way. So many masculine men dressed to the tens in lavish suits and colorful polos. They were all so refined, so perfectly preppy.

“I would like to announce our first success of the annual Kappa Sigma Alpha rush event: the newest man of Kappa Sigma, Godfrey Larimer Elverton Jr.!”

The crowded room burst into a controlled round of applause. Godfrey felt giddy, proud to become a part of this fine organization. After the room had calmed down, Mr. Johnson and Godfrey rejoined Pierson and Prescott. They continued a fascinating discussion about budgetary and monetary issues, as a recent Hemplebaum acquisition of an old theatre downtown had created quite a profit. Godfrey felt right as home, as if he had always meant to be a Kappa Sigma. He instantly embraced his new role in life and quickly was accepted as a full brother by the other men.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. After Godfrey, there were eight other boys who were rushed into the Kappa Sigmas. Godfrey didn’t realize that at the beginning of the day, these boys had all been exactly like him: crude, coarse, and shoddy. In fact, Godfrey didn’t realize that he had been like that at all. His memories had slowly shifted, causing him to remember a wealthier upbringing, one where he had pampered and shaped to become a Kappa Sigma man over the last 21 years.

“To be frank,” Pierson started as they made their way back out to the first hole. “I did not foresee you transitioning so fast, let alone becoming the first pledge of the day.”

“You should recognize that I have been training for this my entire life,” Godfrey replied sternly.

“Oh, I do,” Pierson conceded. “But I will need some testament to that claim. Four strokes is par.”

Godfrey turned to Pierson and gave a broad, bland smile.

“Pierson Buckley Folsom VI,” he declared with a club in his hand. “I’ll only need one.”

[rebel-walnut]

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

Steddie Season 3 time travel fic, Part 2

Ao3, Pt. 1, Pt.3, Pt.4

Eddie's dying. Screaming, maybe. He doesn't think he has enough energy for it though, his eyelids already too heavy to stay open. There's so many sets of hands covering his chest, his neck, his whole body really. They're all going back to their owners bloody and red with the stuff that's supposed to probably stay inside Eddie, but he's choking on enough of it right now that he'd be perfectly content with it staying outside his body forever.

His fingers light up in pins and needles and travel up past his wrists, overwhelming the rest of his body. He feels someone glance their fingers against his cheek and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, with a soft press of something to his forehead, before the tingly sensation pulls all feeling away from him. There's a dropping feeling like he's falling, wind all around him, and bright red behind his eyelids.

And then nothing. Save for the pins and needles that begin to fade into nothingness too.

Except that Eddie opens his eyes and is greeted by a severe lack of grim reapers, and an overwhelming amount of neon lights and screaming children. 

The tingling wipes itself from his fingertips and is replaced instead by his usual anxious shakiness as Eddie rapidly blinks his eyes into his new surroundings. Only thing is, they're not new at all. He's behind the stickered wooden counter of his old gig at Hot Wax Records that he had to drop after the mall blew up. Or burnt down, whatever. Point is, the mall is very much still standing. More important possibly, Eddie is fucking alive. 

He grips the counter hard enough to splinter and digs his nails into the palm of his free hand, willing himself to- what. Wake up? Go back to being dead? Doesn't matter if you ask him, all Eddie knows is that either he was tripping incredibly hard off his ass for what seemed like a year, or all that fucked up alternate dimension D&D-come-to-life-bullshit was actually real. He's not sure which he's more inclined to believe.

He scratches his nails into the wood of the counter top again, stabilizing himself before he faints or his knees give out, other hand traveling everywhere he still feels the fantom sickly stick of his own blood. Despite his finger tips coming away dry from his torso, Eddie can't help the panic rising in his chest. His hand finds its way to his throat, feeling for his pulse and the swell of his breath. Still no blood. Heart still beating. Good.

His breaths are coming out raggedy and forced as a flash of blue from outside the door catches his attention, the man in the bright costume spinning around in a similarly frenzied state to mirror Eddie's own.

Eddie's hallucinating. Or dreaming. Because no goddamn way did he get blasted to a year ago, but more reasonably no way is King goddamn Steve Harrington standing in front of him in an honest to God sailor costume with sinfully short shorts, and possibly lip gloss. And blonde highlights. 

Hallucination-sailor-Steve is staring at him like Eddie's the answer to all his problems, like Eddie's pitiful half panic attack that he's currently having will help Steve at all. Yet, Eddie finds himself shifting towards Steve on instinct just as Steve does the same.

"Eddie?" 

It comes out almost inaudible from where Eddie's standing, but he recognizes the shape of his name nonetheless. Especially when it's coming out of hallucination-sailor-Steve's mouth. Eddie drops the hand that's been slowly tightening around his throat, still staring shock-eyed and slightly disbelieving at Steve.

It takes Eddie a couple tries to get his mouth around the word, trying and failing to push past the blood from another life that's clogging his vocal cords. He finally gets out a hushed "Steve?" that he's almost certain hallucination-sailor-Steve couldn't have heard, but apparently it's enough to spring Steve into action.

Steve's at the counter in seconds, hands reaching for Eddie and then halting in a half aborted grab, his eyes equally reaching for everything Eddie had to offer.

"Are you-" Eddie starts, not sure where to go with that. Steve makes another half gesture towards Eddie, not quite something that would've been a hug but maybe more of an urgent grab. His eyes are dead serious and deep with a complexity Eddie has never seen before. It would be enchanting if they weren't in a possibly life threatening scenario.

"What do you remember?" Steve asks, all seriousness and hard edges. Eddie gets himself around the side of the counter on wobbly legs, getting as close to Steve as he can without them touching.

"I- I was dying. Or maybe I died, I don't know. Whatever happened when I was bleeding out from a bunch of demon-bat bites," Eddie swallows hard at his own reminder, "I swear it happened in '86, and definitely not while I was working at a mall that I'm pretty sure shouldn't be standing right now." 

Eddie waits for Steve to give him a weird look, a look that says what the fuck, freak? You think you're a time traveler? Or maybe he just expects hallucination-sailor-Steve to finally disappear into gossamer and mist and leave Eddie to pick up the pieces of his likely DMT fuelled year long psychotic break.

Instead, probably unsurprisingly, Steve just looks at him with understanding while his brow knits itself a little closer together. A grimace of unfortunate understanding, if you will.

"So we're in the same boat, then," Steve grits out with his eyes still searching Eddie's. Eddie can't help the snort that escapes him despite his current state of panic.

"No way the first thing you do is make a sailor pun after we find out we literally just fucking time travelled, dude."

Steve's brow furrows impossibly tighter as he fights back his own smirk.

"Not the point. We need to figure out how to get back. Or at the very least, what to do if we're stuck," Hallucination-sailor-Steve is back to his serious face, all urgency and end-of-the-world scowl. Eddie's stomach lurches at the thought of being stuck back in time, his hands subconsciously reaching for stability on Steve's arms. Steve pulls his arms back like he's been burned before Eddie even touches him, panic threading through his features.

"Wait!" Steve shouts over the sound of the sting of rejection in Eddie's palms, but the fear in his voice is enough to push Eddie's personal problems aside for a moment. "Aren't we not allowed to touch each other?" Eddie's confused and skeptical glance is enough to get Steve to keep talking. "I mean like- in time travel movies and sci-fi shit, you're not supposed to touch or talk to your other self and all that. It fucks with the space-time contin-whatever the hell."

Eddie blinks for a moment at the pure sight that is Steve Harrington in a sailor costume explaining sci-fi nerd shit to him. Maybe dreams do come true. Regardless, Eddie says, "Yeah, but we're not the same person. Besides we came here together I think, so it should be fine. Right?" 

Eddie is 100% not confident in this theory, still pretty confident, but he'd rather explode into a million timey-wimey bits than never be able to touch Steve in this universe. Plus, maybe touching each other will send them back to their proper timeline. It's such a convincing theory that Eddie tells Steve as much.

Steve sighs the most dramatic sigh Eddie has ever heard in his life that didn't come from Eddie's own mouth. "Yeah, you're right. We should rule it out, or at the very least see if it does anything," Steve says as he tentatively raises his hand up between them, palm facing Eddie. He quirks an eyebrow at Eddie, gesturing for him to do the same.

Eddie pulls his shaking hand up an inch away from Steve's own, palms facing each other. They both take in a shuddering breath, Steve giving a silent nod to Eddie before gently pressing their skin together.

Eddie waits to explode. He waits for the walls to crack and shatter, a red chasm of nightmares opening beneath him. He waits for his insides to become his outsides, for the world to snap into darkness and leave him behind. Instead, he only feels the gentle warmth of Steve's hand against his.

They both release their breath at the same time, a timid laugh escaping Steve's lips with his breath. Eddie breaks into his first smile since his death, and against his better judgement, laces his fingers between Steve's. Steve doesn't make any move to dislodge him. The euphoria of not spontaneously combusting is short lived as Steve's face turns grim once again.

"We need to get back to Scoops and fill Robin in."

"Buckley's here too?" 

Steve doesn't bother answering Eddie's question, just turns to the exit of the record store. For the moment, Eddie doesn't bother asking again. Fully content to let himself be led somewhat frantically through a mall that shouldn't exist with probably-not-a-hallucination-sailor-Steve's hand warmly in his.

_____

TAG LIST: @estrellami-1 @melodymeddler @songbird-garden @gregre369 @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley

Working on the next part! This may end up being a full length fic, in which case it will also be up on my ao3 which I will link once its up. Thanks for reading!

EDIT: Now on Ao3 HERE

[ladykailitha]

We Love Steve Part 2

Steve got up shortly after Eddie left. And would have sneaked away if it wasn’t for the message on the door.

“Gone to Hellfire Club, be back later. I know you. Don’t you dare leave until I get back. I’m serious. I will hunt you down.

-Eds” With a little doodle of a devil sticking his tongue out.

He let out a little laugh. He had to admit that maybe Eddie did love him. He had been so shocked by the confession...Steve was so sure that it had slipped out accidentally. But Eddie had meant it.

And he loved Eddie, loved being with him, he made the buzzing in his head distant. Almost quiet.

He was wondering if he should go back to the sofa or go lay on Eddie’s bed when the door opened to reveal Eddie coming back.

Steve blinked. “Eddie?”

Eddie flashed him a smile. “You weren’t thinking about going anywhere, were you, big boy?”

Steve blushed and shook his head, holding up the note. “I know better than to disobey my boyfriend.”

Eddie’s face lit up and a small smile found its way to his features. “Good.”

“I was just trying to decide, sofa or bed,” Steve said softly.

“Bed,” Eddie decided immediately. “We both need rest after the night we had.”

As they lay there comfortably, Steve in Eddie’s arms, he murmured. “I’m sorry I ruined your guys’s game.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie said. “I’ll make it up to them next Saturday. I just couldn’t concentrate knowing you were here by yourself.”

Steve kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”

Eddie kissed his lips and Steve melted.

Eddie caressed Steve’s hair until the boy had fallen asleep.

*

Max waited until everyone was settled before she spoke.

“Right, here’s the detz,” she said. “Steve thinks that he stops giving us rides to basketball or to the movies, or anything like that, we’ll stop calling him.” There were a lot murmurs, but she held up her hand. “Just wait, it gets worse.”

“Worse?” Dustin croaked.

“He also thinks that if he stops letting us have parties at his place, we’ll stop calling,” Max continued. “And then there’s the real kicker. The one that upset Eddie so much that he couldn’t concentrate.”

“Must be bad,” Lucas said. And everyone nodded.

Max pursed her lips. She wasn’t exactly sure how to say it. “Steve thinks he’s too stupid for us to want to hang out with him and that we wouldn’t if he hadn’t saved our lives.”

The room was dead silent for the longest moment in Max’s entire life, before the room exploded in protests.

She let them go on for a bit before she calmed them down.

“But none of that’s true,” Dustin said, tearing up.

Will shook his head. “When was the last time we had a party that wasn’t at Steve’s?”

Everyone looked at each other, begging for someone to say something that was at least recent. But no one could come up with anything.

“Or when was the last time we invited Steve out to movie or to go to the mall and didn’t make him drive?” Max asked.

“But he has the biggest car, next to Eddie’s van,” Mike complained.

“So?” Lucas asked. “You’re parents have a pretty big car, Nancy could drive us. But we never ask, because we assume Steve will just agree to it.”

Mike looked down, disgruntled.

“Everyone calls him stupid or dumb, but is he really?” Erica asked.

Again they all fell silent.

“He’s really good at tactics,” Dustin murmured.

“He figured out the song at the mall,” Erica mentioned.

“And then there’s how many times he’s hit his head,” Will said softly. “That’s bound to have caused problems.”

“All the times he’s protected us,” Dustin agreed.

“So are we all in agreement not to call Steve stupid, just because he isn’t book smart?” Max asked.

Everyone nodded.

“But what about the rest of it?” Lucas asked. “We have to do something nice for Steve, show him that we do care. Because Eddie’s right. He does so much for us, but what do we do for Steve?”

“When’s his birthday?” Erica asked.

Everyone looked around.

“No one knows when his birthday is?” Max asked incredulous. “Not even you, Dustin?”

Dustin shook his head. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Nancy might know,” Mike muttered. “I’ll go ask.” He got up and went upstairs.

“This is a bad start,” Will said. “If we don’t even know when his birthday is. He knows all of ours.”

Mike came down the stairs a few moments later. “No go, guys. Nance doesn’t know either.”

They all stared at him in shock.

“Would Robin know?” Lucas asked. He was starting to get desperate now.

Max shook her head. “I doubt it.”

“Shit.”

It didn’t matter who said it, only that everyone agreed.

“Eddie?” Dustin asked, raising his head. “Cause even if he doesn’t know, it wouldn’t be weird for him to ask.”

Max nodded. “I know Steve works tonight, so I’ll head over to Eddie’s and let him know the plan. And if it’s already past, then we’ll just throw a surprise party for him anyway. We don’t need a reason. But his birthday would be a good excuse.”

“I’ll ask my mom if we can have it here,” Mike said from the bottom of the stairs.

Everyone nodded.

“Maybe we can get Gareth and Jeff in on it,” Erica suggested. “Have it be after a D&D session. Invite Robin and Nancy, maybe Jonathan and Argyle too. So that when Steve comes to get Dustin and Will we can surprise him.”

“El, too,” Mike added. Erica nodded.  

“And they can park at our house,” Lucas added. “We’re just around the corner, everyone can walk over so Steve isn’t spooked by all the cars.”

“Looks like we have a plan,” Dustin said.

“Now all we need is a date,” Max said.

*

Eddie and Steve were lying in bed that night, cuddled up together.

“I’m still sorry about ruining your game yesterday,” Steve said. He had come over after work and had flopped face first onto Eddie’s bed, completely exhausted.

“Don’t be,” Eddie said. “You have been holding that inside you for so long, it was only a matter of time before it exploded. I’m just glad it was at me and not one of the kids or Robin wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”

Steve just buried his head further into Eddie’s shoulder.

“Red stopped by, they’re all really worried about you,” Eddie continued.

“I never intended to be a burden,” Steve murmured.

Eddie twisted his body so he could look Steve in the eye. “You aren’t. What you are is too stubborn to ask for help and let me tell you as a former member of that club, it’s shitty place to be.”

Steve sighed. “I’ll try to ask for help more often. I’m just so used to not having anyone around to lean on.”

Eddie knew that the Harringtons were never home, he just never realized how badly it had warped Steve.

“Well you have me now, darling,” Eddie said softly, kissing the top of Steve’s head. He paused. “You know what I just realized, I don’t know when your birthday is.”

Steve groaned. “No one does.”

That brought Eddie up short. “Wait, no one? As in none of your friends in the history of ever, no former girlfriends, none of the kids know? Not even Dustin?”

Steve just shook his head.

“Why?”

“It’s on a holiday.”

Eddie frowned as he tried to figure it out. “Let’s see. It’s not one of the holidays that are different every year, because then it wouldn’t matter most of the time. It’s not Christmas, you love Christmas.” He tapped his finger on his lips.

“Oh I know!” he said excitedly.

“Don’t say it,” Steve murmured.

“It’s Halloween!”

Steve got up and drew his knees to his chest. Eddie forced himself to sit up too.

“That’s why you hate Halloween. It’s not because it’s spooky or whatever it’s because it’s not an ‘appropriate Harrington birthday’, is it?”

“Yeah.” Steve buried his head in his arms.

“Well it’s a good thing you have a boyfriend that loves Halloween and can make it extra special for you,” Eddie said with a grin.

“You don’t have to,” Steve murmured to his knees.

“We’ll just have to see about that...” Eddie said. And tackled Steve back to the bed tickling him until Steve begged for mercy.

Part 1 Part 3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 1

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, more dark elements to come.

Wouldn't mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

The glass cases and sparkling gems contrast your unbelonging as you step through the elaborately decorated entry. Your imposter syndrome nips at your neck as you twist the strap of your purse, the brown leather faded and cracked.

You swallow and look around. Unlike the rest of the mall, the shop is mellow and nearly empty.

You pick at your wooly cuff poking out from under your puffer coat. You go to the counter where a woman in a black turtleneck dress smiles flirtily at another customer. He looks like he belongs, though you're not a fan of the mustache. He chuckles as she helps clip a gold watch around his wrist.

"Does it bring out my eyes?" He kids as he puts his arm straight and pushes his shoulders back.

"They don't need help," the associate, her name, Kelsey, etched on her silver name tag, "it suits you."

"Mm, sure, you're not just saying that for the commission, are you?" He holds out his arm for her to unclasp the watch, his dark jacket is no doubt designer, if not tailored to his tapered torso.

You tune out their back and forth, the superficial exchange only adding to your displacement. You have a budget and a mission. You want to be in and out before you can dwell on everything you can't afford.

You peer through the glass at the Rolexes, casios, and Tom Ford pieces. Your eyes wander, looking for another employee to fetch your purchase. You don't want it to sell before you can get your hands on it. The silver watch with the sapphire face is exactly like the picture saved on your phone.

You lean forward trying to see behind the tall counter then pace to the corner and around the rear of the store. There is only the security guard at the door, watching shoppers mill by. You go back to the front where the customer continues his playful tet-a-tet.

You sigh and cross your arms, heat gathering in your thick coat. Your scalp speckles damply and you sway as your patience dwindles. The man browses the cufflinks as he asks advice on style.

"Ahem," you swallow your reticence at last, "sorry to interrupt–"

"And yet you did," the man retorts, "you can wait your turn." His sneer is derisive as he takes you in, head to toe, almost revolted by your dumpy attire. "That is if you can afford it."

"Excuse me, I…" your voice crackles and you shrug away the insult, "I'm sorry, just, when you have a moment."

You step away and drop your arms as you pretend to look at the earrings. The man scoffs and the associate gives a tinkly giggle.

"You know what would look good on you," the man says as you look out through the open wall into the mall, "pearls."

"Pearls?" Kelsey preens.

"Oh, yes, a nice little necklace around that pretty neck," he intones.

"I don't know, aren't pearls kind of… outdated?"

"Not the ones I have in mind."

You cringe at his entendre and roll your eyes. You should just leave. You really don't have the money. A year of scrimping and saving and for what? Colin doesn't care if you give him gold or a card, he's just happy with whatever.

Still, he deserves it. You just want him to feel special. For one day. To feel like he didn't settle, like maybe, he got the prize.

"You hold onto those for me, sweetheart," the man's voice carries in the vacant shop, "I'm gonna have a look at the tie pins."

You turn your head to watch his figure from the corner of your eye. He sidles around the other side of the store and you spin around. You go to the counter as Kelsey puts away a tray of cufflinks.

"Hi, yeah, if you don't mind I wanted this silver watch," you point over to where you found it.

"Sure, sorry about the wait. We're a bit short staffed at the moment," she smiles, "um, which one was it?"

"This one," you shift over and point over it, "with the blue."

She takes out the watch and brings it onto the counter. "Is it for someone special?"

"My husband," you smile, "he needs a new one. He got a new job so…"

"Oh, how exciting, is this the one then?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"And were you interested in the insurance plan? It includes free cleaning and battery replacement."

"Hm, how much would that be?"

"For this price range, an extra one-thirty."

"Oh," you can't hold back the impact of the number, "um, what's the total for just the watch?"

You hear a snicker and a shadow blurs in your peripheral. Kelsey goes to the till and you move along to stand across from her. The taxes are more than you expect.

"There's a Wal-Mart down the road," the man mocks as he leans on the glass, "think they might be more in your range."

You don't acknowledge him, merely biting down. What an asshole.

"I'll take the insurance, am I able to split the transaction?"

"Sure thing, how do we want to split it?"

"I'll pay for the watch in cash and the rest credit."

You put your purse on the counter and search through your clutter of receipts for your ziploc of bills. You peel open the top and start to count through the twenties, tens, fives, and hundreds, apologising for it as you do.

"You could have a good time down at the strip joint," the stranger comes closer and you turn slightly as you try to block him out. "Aw, baby, am I hurting your feelings? Maybe you could take that money and get a manicure instead? Or sort out that rat's nest."

"What do you want?" You slam down your hand as you lose count.

He smirks as you meet his eyes, bold and sparkling with amusement, "that."

"Leave me alone," you start over, frazzled as a few bills slip and flutter down to the floor. You bend to pick them up and grit your teeth as you resume your count.

"It's okay," Kelsey says, "I'll count."

You look at her and nod, pushing over the loose money and the ziplock. You take out your wallet and slide free your credit card, for emergencies only.

You wait as the man lingers closer. You wince as you feel him touch your hood and you pull away from him.

"Don't touch me. What are you doing?"

"Sir," Kelsey says as she puts the cash in her till, "please, I–"

"Mind your business," he snaps and keeps his eyes on you, "I'm just tryna figure who would marry… you?"

"Credit," you say to Kelsey as you motion with your card. She hits a button and you swipe.

"No wonder you're splurging, gotta keep him around somehow."

You key in your code and submit payment. You shakily place the card in your wallet and pack up your purse as Kelsey closes the watch box and slips it in an ivory paper bag. She tears off your receipt and staples it to the warranty.

"You gonna cry for me? Hm? Or maybe you can go home to the old man and tell him another guy actually noticed your fat ass–"

"Shut up." You snap as you swipe the bag off the counter, "I told you to leave me alone."

"Just one tear for me," he steps closer.

"Sir, please, I'll have to call security," Kelsey warns.

"You won't. I'm about to drop a month's worth of sales on you so you'll sit pretty and wait for me, dolly."

She flinches and curls her lip, fighting against her customer service smile.

"It's fine," you wave her off, "I'm leaving."

"Tell daddy you need a good fucking to get that stick out your ass," the stranger snorts after you, "if he can even find a hole."

You steam and puff your chest as you pass into the mall. Your lashes flick as your eyes sear. Just your fucking luck to run into the biggest douchebag in the place.

[gerrystamour]

i could be honest, i could be human [Chapters 9 & 10]

Rated E | Steddie

[ FIRST PART ] [ PREVIOUS PART ] [ NEXT PART ]

When a smirk tugged at the corners of Eddie’s mouth as he crouched to examine the bat bites closer, Steve chuckled lightly. “What, Munson?” he asked, trying not to think too much about the position Eddie was almost in. “Damn, Harrington,” Eddie said, his tone teasing as he looked up at him through his lashes. “Who hurt you?”

Chapter Nine: March 1986

It took Robin until the spring of the following year for the stars to align in a way for her to figure Steve’s crush out, and by then he thought he’d largely gotten over it.

Between graduating and working full-time, he hadnʼt actually seen Eddie since that night over the summer. The only times he would was while he was dropping Robin off at school and picking her up, and the other man was usually too busy with his friends to notice him. Part of him used to wish Eddie would notice him, look over and see his Beemer and wave, maybe even walk over.

But he never did, and they stopped running into each other in public, so Steve put his thoughts and energy elsewhere. No use pining over someone he wasn’t even brave enough to be friends with. Things with his dad were more tense than they had ever been, and Steve didn’t want any of his rage directed at Eddie if he could help it.

After the fight over the summer,  Robin instated a new rule and enforced it ruthlessly: Steve was never to go back to his house alone. It was tough to keep the reason for the rule a complete secret, so eventually Steve sat down and talked about it to Nancy. It had been a rough conversation, one that left them both raw and feeling guilty for things all over again. But once it was over with, Steve had another ally in his corner, another person who saw him and loved him all the same.

When his parents were in town, Steve was either at Robin’s house or he would crash in the spare room at Dustin’s. Over the years, Claudia had grown increasingly fond of Steve and he had dinner with them multiple times a week, especially after he “saved” Dustin in the mall fire. It wasn’t long until Claudia gave Steve a spare key and told him to come and go as he pleased, that her home was his.

The last time Steve went to the house in Loch Nora was to pick up the rest of his clothes and the handful of keepsakes he actually cared about. His next stop was the post office to have his mail forwarded to Robin’s address.

Steve knew he wasn’t free yet, that he would have to actually deal with his parents eventually, and he knew his every action was likely still reported back to them by some nosy gossip, but he felt free.

It wasnʼt a surprise when Steve started seeing the Freshmen following Eddie around eventually. He was even less surprised when Dustin started talking about him constantly. Eddie was exactly the type of person Dustin would latch onto and become obsessed with.

It was… annoying, if Steve was honest. 

For one, Steve felt an intense jealousy when he listened to Dustin talk about Eddie; over the fact that Dustin could hang out with Eddie so often or because Dustin seemed to like him more than Steve, Steve couldn’t tell. Secondly, there really was a limit to how many times someone could tell the same story about the same person before it got old.

So yeah, Steve was over Eddie. He even took several very successful solo trips to a bar in Indianapolis and felt like he really figured himself out. It felt… nice to be around a whole new group of people and to be wanted for simply being himself. No one there knew him as King Steve, or that he came from money. No one knew his father and avoided him. Steve was just some small-town pretty-boy and he liked the anonymity in that.

While he wouldn’t call himself experienced, it was enough that Steve knew what he enjoyed when he slept with other men. He liked to think he didn’t have a type either when it came to men either, just like he didn’t think he had a type of woman. Just because the men he ended up going home with had longer hair, calloused fingertips, and a preference for wearing leather and denim didn’t mean anything. They always just happened to be the men brave enough to approach him. 

One of the bartenders told him it had to do with his whole Good Boy get-up, and she’d laughed when Steve informed her that he was wearing his normal clothes. That was an enlightening night, as she had taken him home after the bar closed and he learned just what was possible even when sleeping with a woman.

It was through his experimentation and flirting at the bar that Steve realized that Eddie was possibly actually interested in him at some point, or at the very least attracted to him. There was something about the way the men he slept with would touch and look at him, before they were kissing or falling into a bed together that brought back little moments with Eddie. It was a bittersweet thing to realize, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it.

Eddie Munson would always be Steve’s wakeup call, and he would always be grateful for that, but Steve learned his way through a whole new aspect of his sexuality on his own. 

And again, he felt that he was well and truly over his crush.

So in March, when Steve recognized the trailer behind a reporter describing a gruesome murder that took place and the kids burst through the front doors of Family Video demanding use of their phones to find Eddie, he didn’t have to try that hard to be nonchalant about the whole situation. Nevermind how deeply invested he was in the search, even as he tried to ignore them and instead do his job.

It wasn’t until Eddie had pinned him to a wall with a broken bottle against his throat that Steve realized his crush was very much alive and thriving. He knew it was inappropriate, especially given that Eddie had clearly been crying and looked close to doing just that again. But Steve had still blushed a bit, glanced at Eddie’s mouth, and then blushed even more.

Quickly regaining his composure, Steve looked over Eddie’s shoulder at Robin to plead for her help in calming Eddie down, and to his dismay there was a thoughtful expression on her face. It was just a second of her glancing between them, and then it was replaced with wide-eyed understanding. Thankfully she exercised some rare tact and focused on helping Dustin talk Eddie down, but she gave Steve a look that clearly said, ‘You will not hear the end of this for the rest of your life.’

As they left the boathouse after debriefing Eddie on the horrors that lived under Hawkins, Robin grabbed Steve’s wrist and pulled him to a stop. Max and Dustin continued without them, bickering about their next move.

“We’re going to talk about that,” she said firmly, but there was a smirk threatening to overtake her mouth.

“Don’t you think we have bigger problems, Buckley?” Steve groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Hell-ooo! Lovebirds! We’re kind of in a hurry!” Dustin yelled, practically shrieked from the car.

“Henderson, can you lower the volume?” Steve hissed, gesturing around them at the darkness before turning to look back at Robin. “See? Bigger. Problems.”

“Of course,” she agreed before she started walking again, quietly adding, “we can’t have your boyfriend framed for murder by an evil wizard from a shadow dimension underneath Hawkins, right?”

Steve let out a long-suffering moan, trudging along behind her. “Ugh, can you shut up?”

❖

Steve sat in the back of the RV, struggling with removing the scraps of Nancy’s sweater from his injuries. They were looking pretty bad after several hours of not cleaning them out properly. That wasn’t even mentioning the injuries on his back that largely went unattended. Plus his throat hurt from being strangled, and the taste of the Demo-bat’s blood wouldn’t leave his mouth, no matter how much he brushed his teeth or tried to wash it out.

Altogether, Steve was not having a great time. Why was he always the one who got beat up every time the world ended?

He knew the answer to that before he even finished asking himself the question. Maybe if he stopped throwing himself between malevolent beings and his loved ones, he would come out of these situations looking a lot less like he had been processed through a meat grinder. However, Steve knew that the only way he would ever stop is if it actually finally killed him one day.

A noise caught Steve’s attention, and when he looked up he saw Eddie sitting in one of the front seats. They were still pulled over at the field, preparing for battle, and Steve hadn’t realized Eddie had gone inside at all. When their eyes met, there was something about Eddie’s gaze that seemed… weird, but he schooled his expression before Steve could figure it out.

“You need help?” Eddie offered, gesturing at Steve’s pathetic attempts at first-aid.

Steve knew it was probably a bad idea to let Eddie put his hands on him. He knew it wouldn’t help his sad, wishful thinking at all.

“I can’t get to all of the injuries,” Steve admitted, and he put down the gauze as Eddie got up and stepped closer.

Neither of them said anything at first as Eddie took stock of the injuries around Steve’s middle. When a smirk tugged at the corners of Eddie’s mouth as he crouched to examine the bat bites closer, Steve chuckled lightly.

“What, Munson?” he asked, trying not to think too much about the position Eddie was almost in.

“Damn, Harrington,” Eddie said, his tone teasing as he looked up at him through his lashes. “Who hurt you?”

Steve barked out a laugh, even as a spike of heat lanced through his gut, and rolled his eyes. “I’m still trying to figure out the cover-story for these bad boys,” he joked, gesturing vaguely down at the angry wounds and keeping his thoughts as clean as possible. “Ask me again after the government finally shows the fuck up with the confidentiality paperwork.”

Eddie chuckled lightly even as his frown deepened, and he got to work. “Was… were all the other times cover-stories, too?” he asked after a few minutes.

“What?” Steve asked, wincing as Eddie worked.

“The other times you were injured. I’m just—I’m thinking about the timeline you guys gave me and now I’m just—did you actually get beat up by Jonathan Byers?” he finally asked outright, and Steve laughed.

“Yes, I actually got beat up by Jonathan Byers,” he confirmed, sighing. “He accepted my apology after I saved him from the Demogorgon, though.”

“Ah, okay. Him forgiving you makes a lot more sense with that context,” Eddie murmured teasingly, and Steve gasped in mock-outrage.

“Hey man, my apology was very sincere. I’m sure that would’ve done the trick, too,” Steve insisted petulantly, and as he’d hoped, Eddie smiled.

“Hey, y’know, I actually ran away? The first time the Demogorgon came?” Steve admitted and Eddie snorted. 

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed and Steve shook his head with a grin.

“Seriously, I made it through the first attack, had a freak-out, and when it came back…” he trailed off at the memory, shuddering a bit as the vague memory of his gut wrenching fear came back. “Nancy told me to leave— I mean, she pulled a gun on me—”

“She what?” Eddie exclaimed, looking up at Steve with his wide brown eyes that always made the butterflies in Steve’s stomach dance. 

“I was freaking out pretty bad,” Steve offered as an explanation, shrugging when Eddie’s brow pinched together skeptically. With an embarrassed roll of his eyes, Steve continued, “then I ran. Made it to my car and everything. Almost got in and drove away, too.” 

“What stopped you?” Eddie asked quietly, blinking up at him. 

“I, uh, dropped my keys. When I got to my car, I mean, and I donʼt know, stopping like that gave my brain enough time to think,” Steve explained, grimacing as he thought back to that moment when he stood in Jonathan’s driveway and watched the lights start flickering. “I realized I was just gonna go home? And Nance and Jonathan were going to fight this… fucking demon? And they might die?”

“You were what, seventeen?” Eddie asked, standing up to meet Steve’s eyes properly. “It would’ve been normal to fucking run, Steve.”

“Almost seventeen, yeah,” Steve replied flippantly before he looked at Eddie pointedly. “Still. I couldn’t just leave them. Just like you couldn’t sit tight and hide. Or stay in the boat.”

Silence lapsed between them again as Eddie mulled that over, his cheeks turning a bit pink under Steve’s attention. Clearing his throat finally, Eddie glanced away. 

“And the next year, did Billy actually try to kill you?” he asked after a bit, and Steve sighed.

“Yeup. I basically told you the whole story. Max was afraid he’d kill her, and he was actually going to kill Lucas,” he answered as if it was not a big deal, and to him it wasn’t. It all felt like the bare minimum, even in retrospect. “I was with the kids because Hopper was taking Eleven, y’know, the—”

“The girl with the psychic powers, yes,” Eddie interjected with a chuckle. “You’ve mentioned her.”

“Yeah, he was taking her to close the portal. Ms. Byers was dealing with Will, who was possessed by the Mindflayer.”

“Jesus,” Eddie hissed as he moved around Steve to clean up the wounds on his back. There was a long pause before Eddie asked, “And the mall fire?”

Steve tensed up at that, the entire Starcourt mess being the memory he wished would go away the most.

“Russians,” Steve said after a bit before elaborating, “My injuries, I mean. Russians. They tortured me and Robin, almost killed us. Dustin and Erica saved us. The mall fire was us fighting a giant flesh monster with fireworks.”

“Holy fuck,” Eddie muttered, and Steve startled when the other man rested his forehead on the back of Steve’s shoulder. “Sorry, man, that’s just a lot to take in,” he said, clearing his throat and lifting his head again.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Steve laughed, shrugging, his skin still tingling where Eddie had rested against him. Clearing his throat, he gestured at the denim vest on the table. “I think your vest is toast, I’m really sorry.”

“Nah, man, don’t be sorry,” Eddie said softly, and suddenly he was resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder and grinning sidelong at him. “It demands payment in blood, and only that of idiot pretty-boy jocks will appease it after the first bloodletting, so really, you’re doing me a favour.”

Steve stared at Eddie out of the corner of his eye in confusion, a deep blush on his face at how close they were to each other, and then the memories finally came to him and he snorted unattractively. “Shit, sorry, I kinda forgot this isn’t the first time I bled on it,” Steve admitted while he laughed, and Eddie joined him quietly.

“I remember that day vividly, Harrington,” Eddie admitted as he backed away to get back to cleaning and dressing Steve’s injuries. “I think about it a lot.”

“Same, I mean thinking about it. A lot of details are really fuzzy, and there’s kind of… gaps in the memories,” Steve confessed quietly. “There’s a lot that I don’t remember from the aftermath, y’know? Maybe this time it’ll be different because so far, no concussion.”

“Okay, but you were strangled and oxygen deprivation—”

“Let me have this win, Munson,” Steve whined with a grin on his face, and Eddie laughed.

“I meant what I said down there, in the Upside-Down,” Eddie said suddenly after a short silence. “That you’re a good guy, even if that pissed me off at first. More than that, you’re amazing Steve. You’re funny, you’re actually kind of a nerd, and you’re a hero. I’m… really glad I got to know you, even if the world is ending tonight.”

Steve had been thinking about their conversation down there since it happened, and it had been gnawing at him the whole time. Having Eddie pushing him back toward Nancy had been frustrating at the time, nauseating even. 

Of course, Steve knew why people always jumped to that conclusion. 

She was his first love, his first real long term relationship and Steve hadnʼt been successful in the dating world since. Even his trips out to Indy werenʼt yielding results outside of casual flings and learning more about himself. Even Robin asked him one night when they were a little bit tipsy if he was still in love with Nancy. There was a part of Steve that questioned himself after a particularly long series of swings and misses. 

Nancy had been, at one point, his everything. Steve had seen a future with her that was within reach, something he might have been able to make even his dad at least tolerant of, and then he lost her. She was a bright spot, a candle in his lonely, dark world and when Steve fucked it up, he was left stumbling alone.

If Nancy was a candle, though, Eddie was the goddamn sun.

Eddie brought a warmth and brightness to every space he entered, and Steve desperately wanted to bask in it for the rest of his life if he could. Steve wanted Eddie, and he wanted to actually be with him. His need for the other man went so deep, it had become painful to keep it buried inside himself.

Steve didn’t want to— no, couldnʼt go back to the Upside Down with Eddie thinking he wanted anyone else, especially his ex-girlfriend. He wouldnʼt march dutifully toward what might be their deaths without telling Eddie.

Even if Eddie didn’t feel the same way, or he was never attracted to him at all, Steve had to let him know.

“You got something wrong down there, though,” Steve started.

“If you even try to downplay how fucking brave and selfless you are, Harrington, I’m—”

“I don’t want to be with Nancy anymore,” Steve said, turning to face Eddie properly. “And yeah, Nancy loves me, but not like that. We’ve been through too much together to not love each other. She jumped into the water because she knows I would’ve done the same. Any of us in this group would.”

Eddie stared down at Steve, the frown on his face deepening a bit. “Okay?” he said after a minute.

Steve sighed heavily, trying to quiet the butterflies in his gut, and then reached out to cup his hand around Eddie’s jaw. Eddie froze, wide-eyed, and Steve waited for Eddie to do something before continuing. After a few moments of Eddie’s huge brown eyes searching his face, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. When Eddie relaxed and tipped his head minutely into his hand, Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stepped a bit closer to Eddie.

With another deep breath, Steve hooked a finger into one of Eddie’s belt loops and tugged on it a bit. When he looked up through his lashes at Eddie’s face, the other man didn’t look confused anymore; he looked hungry and Steve let himself bask in it for a second. 

There was a small part of Steve that couldn’t believe his luck, but he wasn’t going to question it either. He wanted Eddie so much, and it appeared that Eddie was into him as well. 

Steve was allowed to have this.

Breathing in sharply, Steve tipped his mouth up, close enough that he could feel Eddie’ breath on his lips, and started to say, “I’m saying all this right now because—”

The door to the RV banged open and the kids piled in, laughing and goofing off despite the situation. Steve would have been happy to hear it if they had waited maybe ten more minutes.

Eddie apparently had the same thought. “Jesus H. Christ, your timing!” he lamented, having already jumped out of Steve’s space, leaving Steve standing there with his hands awkwardly in the air for a second. “Can you guys just go back outside real quick, for five more minutes? Stevie’s still not decent.”

“We’ve all seen Steve with his shirt off,” Lucas said, his tone disgusted as he looked Steve over.

“And we don’t have five more minutes. Time to put your shirt on, Steve,” Dustin commanded, and Steve sighed as he grabbed the shirt he picked up at War Zone and put it on.

When Steve turned around, Robin was looking at him wide-eyed, as if she knew exactly what was about to happen when they all stormed in. Steve shrugged and put the leather jacket he bought back on and then, looking over his shoulder at Eddie again, he grabbed the battle vest and shrugged it on over top. Glancing down at himself, he definitely saw the appeal of wearing an outfit like that.

When he met Eddie’s eyes again, there was a moment where it looked like he was about to do something about Steve, their audience be damned, and Steve just raised an eyebrow.

The world was about to end, who cared anymore?

“Steve, come on, we’re losing daylight,” Nancy said urgently, an eyebrow raised high as she looked back and forth between him and Eddie. She was in the middle of setting down the weapons and organizing them. “What are you even doing?”

Steve turned away from Eddie fully and headed to the front of the RV, smirking slightly to himself as he heard Eddie cursing up a storm behind him.

Robin followed Steve to the front seat and smiled politely when she shoved past Nancy to take the passenger seat. “I’m invoking Best Friend Shotgun Privileges,” she said when Nancy looked like she was about to argue with her.

At that, Nancy just raised her eyebrows, glanced between the two of them then threw her hands up in surrender before wandering to the back of the RV to sit next to Eddie.

“Is Steve being weird right now?” Steve heard Nancy ask Eddie.

“Oh, Nance, you have no idea,” Eddie replied, and when Steve glanced back, Eddie was grinning and doing that thing where he hid his mouth with some of his hair while he looked out the window next to him. 

Steve smirked a bit and got to hot wiring the RV again like Eddie showed him.

Once they were on the road again and the noise of the RV blocked any conversation from the front reaching the back, Robin leaned over and rested her chin on Steve’s outstretched arm as he drove.

“Please tell me we didn’t interrupt what I think we just interrupted,” she begged softly and Steve laughed.

“You want me to lie to you, Robs?” he asked, raising an eyebrow down at her and she groaned.

“I am so sorry,” she said.

“It’s fine, you didn’t know,” Steve reassured her, lifting his other hand to pat her head. “Honestly, I didn’t know I was going to say anything until right before I started to say it.”

“You were just going to blab?” Robin asked, lifting her head with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, actually. I figured there’s a very high chance at least one of us might not make it out of this mess, so…” he trailed off, shrugging one shoulder.

“Well, now you’ll both just have to survive, won’t you?” Robin said, and while her tone was teasing, there was a desperate edge to it.

“Yeah, Robs, we will,” Steve said, smiling over at her before smirking again. “I think I got my point across anyway.”

“Oh, yeah? You have telepathy now, Steve?” Robin said sarcastically and Steve snorted.

“It’s called body language, Robs,” Steve replied, looking sidelong at her while she made a face up at him. “Is he still blushing?”

Robin looked back and snorted. “Oh yeah, and he’s gotten not only Nancy’s attention, but Dustin’s as well,” she explained and Steve just smiled broadly.

“Still got it,” he teased, winking over at Robin. 

She laughed out loud and began digging around the glove box until she found a clean napkin and a pen that worked. Then she spent the next little while scribbling while angling her body so Steve couldn’t see what she was doing. Finally, out of the corner of his eye he could see her cap the pen and then fold the napkin in a way that it hid what she wrote, like the notes that girls used to pass around class.

Leaning over, she slid the folded napkin in the pocket of his leather jacket. “Promise you won’t look at that until this is over and we’re all alive, okay?”

“I promise, Robs,” Steve said, smiling gently at her when she rested her chin on his arm again.

They were going to make it, Steve decided, because he had a boy to get and a note to read.

Chapter Ten: B-Side

The battle vest was ruined, Steve knew it was.

Just the blood from his own poorly tended wounds would have been enough to call it. But then he had to haul Eddie out…

Inhaling sharply through his nose, Steve shook his head and submerged the vest in the bathtub again for another soak. He had already tried the steps he knew for removing blood from denim, but that was drops from a nosebleed, or a skinned elbow.

This was from someone bleeding to death. This was from the boy he cared about so deeply it hurt bleeding out.

Another sharp inhale, another violent shake of his head, a slow breath out.

The water in the tub wasn’t even changing colour anymore, at least not by any amount that mattered. Steve would wring it out one more time and figure something out if it didn’t work. He’d let it soak for the time being, and maybe this was the time that the stain would just lift right out. It just needed patience and perseverance.

Steve’s fingers were almost painfully wrinkled with how long he had been working at his lost cause. He knew he didn’t have to hold the vest under the water, but there was something grounding about the pain of the cold water when Steve would submerge his hands for just a bit too long. Whenever he’d get too far inside his head, he would lean over the edge of the tub and hold the battle vest under the water until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Distantly, he heard the egg timer go off behind him and inhaled sharply before he lifted the vest out of the tub.

The water in the tub was practically clear.

Steve wrung the vest out as much as his numb fingers could manage, and the water in the tub stayed clear. Steve sucked in a breath through his nose, and it stuck in his chest, his throat filling with glass as he tried blotting the vest with a rag, but nothing was happening.

The battle vest was ruined. Steve couldn’t fix it, just like he couldn’t protect Eddie and Dustin, and he couldn’t stop Vecna before Eddie decided to be a hero, even after he promised.

There was a part of Steve that recognized he was barely keeping himself from having a breakdown on the bathroom floor of Claudia Henderson’s master bathroom. He had to get up and deal with the vest, to do something with it that wasn’t another soak-wring-blot cycle. He had to get off the floor and do something.

Distantly, he heard a vehicle out front and told himself that it was time to move. Steve couldn’t stay on the floor like that, it would upset Dustin. Claudia would be mad that he was in here; her hospitality would only go so far, he was sure, and this was her private space.

Steve had to get up.

The weight of everything—Max almost dying, Eddie bleeding out, almost failing to kill Vecna—kept Steve on the ground holding the ruined battle vest. Everything went blurry and a sob shuddered out of his chest, followed by another.

It sounded muffled, but he heard the front door open and shut, a voice call out and then footsteps thundering down the hall.

Steve could tell Claudia hadn’t taken off her shoes and he had to get himself under control. He bit his cheek hard enough to make it bleed, trying to use the pain to snap himself out of it, but he was too far gone.

The bathroom door opened, and Steve could hear Claudia say his name as she stopped the egg timer quickly.

“I’m fine,” he tried to choke out, but it came out as a garbled mess around a sob. “I’m sorry,” he tried, and he managed to make it understandable.

“Oh, Steve, sweetie,” Claudia cooed, and Steve realized she was kneeling next to him on the floor and rubbing his back.

He leaned toward her before he could stop himself, something inside him aching for something it had never received. Claudia didn’t miss a beat, immediately wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on top of his head.

“You’ve been so brave through so much, haven’t you?” Claudia sighed, petting Steve’s hair. “I’ve got you, sweetie, don’t you worry.”

Steve couldn’t have pulled himself together after that if he tried. He just sobbed, letting all of his fear, anxiety, and grief out while he held the battle vest to his chest. It felt like hours that he sat there on the floor, crying his eyes out while Dustin’s mom held him and ran her fingers through his hair.

Eventually, he wore himself out, either running out of sadness or tears. Taking a deep breath in, he released it in a shuddering sigh.

“There it is,” Claudia said happily, patting his back carefully and pulling back to smile at Steve.

“There what is?” he asked, his voice a bit hoarse, and he frowned at the tears on Claudia’s face.

“I like to call it the ‘first free breath.’ When you finally let out all the hurt and the sadness, and then you can breathe,” she replied, and she said it like it was so simple.

And yet, it was easier for Steve to breathe, easier than it had been in years, perhaps his whole life even. As if there had been something around his chest, slowly getting tighter every time he breathed out for as long as he could remember. Now, it was gone, or at least loosened.

“Now, what’s this?” Claudia asked, gesturing to the vest Steve was still holding tightly to his chest.

“It’s… my friend’s battle vest. He made it himself, and I was—he was bleeding a lot when—I wanted to fix it for him,” Steve answered, and it felt like he should be crying again but his body couldn’t muster the tears. “I wanted to fix it for when he woke up.”

Claudia searched his eyes and face for a long time. “Is this the young man that’s in surgery right now?” she asked, and Steve nodded quickly, opening his mouth to defend Eddie if she brought up the murders. She reached up and patted his cheek, shaking her head. “Dusty cares about him a lot, too.”

“He’s great with Dustin, Mrs. Henderson. You’d love Eddie, and I really hope you get to meet him,” Steve insisted quickly, and Claudia smiled warmly.

“I’m sure I’ll meet him. Can I see the vest, Steve?” she asked, holding her hand out for it, and he immediately passed it to her. Humming thoughtfully, she turned it over in her hands. “The vest is probably ruined, but a lot of the patches are fine, and the others might be salvageable. You get changed into some dry clothes, okay?”

Steve blinked at her a bit dumbly but nodded once. Claudia pulled him into one more hug before she got up and hurried out of the room. Doing as he was asked, Steve got into new pajamas and then went to Claudia’s bathroom to drain the tub and clean up the mess he made with water on the floor.

When he came back out, Claudia was sitting at the kitchen table with a seam ripper and carefully removing one of the patches. On the table were several Polaroids of the vest from all angles, and draped over the back of the chair next to her were a couple jean jackets.

When she glanced up at him and saw him frowning at the pictures, she smiled. “We’ll use the pictures to put them back where they belong,” she explained, gesturing between the vest, the pictures, and the jackets next to her.

Steve knew he should understand what she was getting at, but thoughts were moving through his head like molasses, and he couldn’t connect them. “What?” he asked softly.

Claudia looked up at him and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m used to talking to Dusty—you know how he is,” she laughed fondly before she looked up at him properly. “We’re going to make your friend a new one with as many of the old patches we can save, okay?”

Steve crumbled all over again, but this time it felt a lot less jagged.

Stepping closer, he wrapped Claudia in a tight hug and let out a sobbing laugh. “Thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” he murmured.

“When are you going to call me Claudia like I keep asking you to, Steve?” she asked with a chuckle, carefully rubbing his back. “This is your home if you want it, for as long as you want it, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m just your host.”

Steve thought about that, and about this house being one of the only places that had ever felt like home to him. He thought about how he felt safe there, wanted, and even loved. Then he thought about how he intended to tell Eddie about his feelings as soon as he woke up and could handle a conversation like that. Steve didn’t want to live in a house where he had to hide parts of himself again.

He had kept himself formal around Claudia to keep his distance, like if he talked like she was a host it wouldn’t hurt as much once he overstayed his welcome. It wouldn’t hurt as much when she inevitably turned on him.

But she was insistent, and Steve wanted to stay here, and he wanted to know that if he did stay, he could bring Eddie around and not hide what they were to each other.

Pulling away, Steve sat down on one of the other dining room chairs and looked down at his hands while he thought about what he was going to say.

“Eddie isn’t my friend, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve said after taking a deep breath, and he flinched at his wording. “I mean, he is, right now because everything happened before I could tell him my—that I like him. That I might be a little in love with him.”

Silence followed his confession, and Steve cleared his throat.

“Is that okay?” he asked quietly, balling his hands into fists.

Claudia put the seam ripper down and took his hands in hers, encouraging Steve to relax his fingers. “Sweetie, I know why you think you do, but you don’t need my permission to love anyone. I want you to know that I will never tell you who you can or cannot love, do you understand?” she asked gently, and Steve nodded frantically.

“But it won’t be a problem if I bring him around? Or you see us holding hands?” Steve pushed, needing to be sure.

“It won’t be a problem, as long as he makes you happy, sweetie,” Claudia said so sincerely, Steve couldn’t find a single part of him jaded enough to doubt her.

Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet hers as he said, “Thank you, C-Claudia.”

The grin and hug he was rewarded with were huge, and Steve felt a properly happy laugh bubble up out of his chest.

❖

The next day, Steve returned to the hospital feeling a bit less like he was drowning. Eddie was stable and in recovery. The wounds themselves were relatively superficial, there had just been so many, and he had lost so much blood before he received treatment. At least that had been roughly what Wayne had explained to him on the phone that morning.

When Steve arrived at the hospital, he stopped to visit Max first like he always did. Ms. Mayfield was asleep on a cot next to Max’s bed, so Steve was quiet with his greeting and little updates. It broke his heart seeing her like that on the bed, quiet and pale, barely any movement aside from her chest rising and falling with her breaths.

Once he finally arrived at Eddie’s room, he was surprised to see Wayne still there. He knew the man worked nights, so he figured he’d need to be sleeping.

“Hello, Mr. Munson,” Steve said awkwardly as he shuffled over to the other available chair.

“Harrington,” Wayne greeted, looking him up and down with an unreadable expression.

Steve settled as comfortably as he could in his chair, trying to ignore Wayne staring at him while he pulled a book and a pair of glasses out of his backpack. He had the new battle vest in his backpack to work on since Claudia taught him how to do some basic stitches, but for some reason he was nervous about doing that in front of Wayne.

“What’re you doing here, boy?” Wayne asked, and Steve looked up at him, wide-eyed. Steve appreciated that Wayne at least tried to hide his disdain, but it was impossible to ignore.

“Sorry, I’ll leave,” Steve said quickly as he put his book away, even if leaving made a hollow feeling settle in his gut. “I’m sorry for—”

“I didn’t tell you to leave. I asked what you were doing here,” Wayne interrupted with a sigh, and something relaxed in his jaw.

Steve couldn’t think of a good answer, not sure what Wayne knew about Eddie. Then again, Steve was largely assuming that himself based on several years of too-gentle touches and one kiss that nearly happened.

But even if Wayne knew about Eddie, what should Steve say here? That he wanted to be there the second Eddie woke up so he could breathe properly again? That he wanted to be here to see Eddie’s smile and hear his laugh, to finally confess the feelings he had been building gradually inside him until they were spilling over? That he waited until the last possible moment to drum up the courage to say something, and then the moment passed, and he almost lost him forever?

“I care about him,” Steve said, and it felt woefully inadequate. “I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“You care about him,” Wayne responded thoughtfully, skepticism lying thick under the words. “What does that mean?”

Steve frowned at Wayne, knowing the man was challenging him. This was some sort of test. “I’m—I might be in love with him, Mr. Munson,” Steve replied, his heart pounding hard enough in his chest that he was sure Wayne could hear it.

As it was, Wayne’s eyebrows shot upward on his forehead at the confession. That was a bit satisfying, all things considered.

“What would your old man think about that, kid?” he asked after a moment, his eyes searching Steve’s face.

“Pardon my language, Mr. Munson, but I don’t give a shit what he thinks,” Steve replied firmly, shrugging with one shoulder. “The people who actually matter know about my feelings for Eddie. Richard Harrington can shove his thoughts about it up his ass for all I care.”

Steve ignored the flash of fear that went through him saying that. It frustrated him how scared he still was of his dad when he hadn’t even seen the man in months.

Wayne was looking at him, assessing him, before he relaxed fully in his chair. “Does he know?” he asked, nodding in Eddie’s direction.

“I think he does,” Steve replied sadly, slouching in his chair. “I tried to tell him, but I waited too long, and then everything happened. We just… ran out of time.”

Wayne nodded, rolling his eyes skyward. “I’ll make sure you’re allowed in here, no matter the time, alright?” he said after a bit and his gaze met Steve’s again. “You better make good on your plan to tell him, got it? I’ve had it up to here with his lovesick pining for you.”

“Wait, what—?” Steve started, completely baffled, but Wayne just groaned loudly as he stood up and stretched.

“Keep an eye on him, would you? I’m going for a smoke,” he said and then left the hospital room.

Once he was alone in the room, Steve looked at Eddie and his heart ached. He looked so small and frail, his face gaunt and white as a sheet. But he was breathing on his own and Steve would take that as a good sign. He allowed himself a small smirk.

“Lovesick pining, huh?” Steve asked the sleeping form on the bed as he reached into his backpack and pulled out the new battle vest and got to work.

[ NEXT ]

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[paladin-heart5]

Save Her (Part Three)

A/n: you asked for it! The next part! Hope you like it! Don't forget to read parts one and two!

Leon Kennedy x Reader

Summary: Y/n is starting the path of recovery. While Leon is trying to be there for her, he's also fighting to get the DSO off their back for the time being.

Everything that's been going on has surely taken it's toll on Leon. A caring man such as himself puts others first, especially her. He will not rest until he can ensure her safety. However, the poor sight of him doesn't make Y/n feel any better either. Guilt courses through as she wonders how much she kept him up at night, worried to the point where he's sick. Bags under his dull eyes, scruff a long his jaw, even his hair is messy. He hasn't taken care of himself.

It's been three days of being in the hospital. Y/n spoke to a mental health specialist a couple times, but to even think about some of the horrors she went through too soon was overwhelming. Eating is a challenge, even though they practically starved her. She can't seem to find the appetite. She hasn't showered yet, all she's wanted to do is sleep. No energy, no smile, no laughter. It's killing Leon to see her this way, he'd give anything to see that beautiful smile.

It's time to make a deal.

Leon decided to go back to their apartment to gather some things for Y/n. A couple of books to read, her sketch book and pencils to draw. Anything to keep her busy for the time being, a good distraction. He was able to clean up the place a bit after the intrusion, but it's likely they'll have to move when this is all over. Still, anything to keep good memories. She does love crafty stuff, maybe he can get her supplies to make a scrapbook.

As he approaches the bedroom, he scans around, there's no telling if any surviving enemies tried to come back. The window is closed, but the curtains are open, letting the sun illuminate the room. His eyes land on their shared king size bed, the comforter all messy and the pillows tossed around. A smallest stuffed animal lays on Y/n's side, it's a brown deer with white spots. Leon got it for her on their first date, specifically when the two stopped by the mall to check out her favorite stores. Leon's not very familiar with the mall, but he loved watching her light up when he saw something she liked. When they went into the arcade, she saw the deer in a claw machine and begged him to get it. He chuckled and did his best. It took a lot of money and patience, but even he got frustrated. It was all so worth it though. Her smile lit up the room, her bounce so cute, and she kissed him on the cheek. Leon hadn't smiled that big in years. His darling girl. He promised himself he'd protect her, knowing the life they have to live. He plans to make those vows.

After a couple of hours of driving around, Leon arrives at the hospital again. Holding a purple backpack in one hand, and a grocery bag in the other. He enters her dark room, and as he turns on the light, Y/n flinches. Her h/c is greasy and tangled, dark bags still under her eyes. She still doesn't eat much, is at all, but she's hydrated. She's clearly in need of a bath, however she tends to put up a fight. Leon was forced to check in with the DSO while Y/n worked with the therapist. Unfortunately she hasn't been ready to talk about what she went through. He hadn't been able to see her for a couple of those days.

It's also not very easy dealing with the fact that the DSO wants to get all the information they can get from her. Obviously Leon isn't allowing that right now, and neither is Hunnigan. They're doing the best they can to delay any forms of questioning, knowing that will only make things worse. Of course it's important to find out where the rest of the enemies could be, figure out exactly what they're planning. However, right now, Leon's top priority is Y/n.

"Y/n?" Leon calls softly as he sits in the chair next to her bed. She looks at him warily, rubbing her arms. The sadness in her eyes is more evident, the color of her orbs are dull. Leon's no different, unfortunately, he looks so tired. She can see that they're in a similar boat.

"When was the last time you slept?" Her voice is hoarse, but luckily he's able to give her a bottle of water. She drinks the whole thing in no time, clearing her throat. Leon chuckles, thinking for a moment before he responds.

"Well uh, last time I slept was in here the other night.. for a couple of hours." He reaches down to grab the grocery bag. He hears her huff and looks up, seeing a her lips form into a small pout. He feels his own lift; oh how he missed that precious face. He takes out a bowl of fruit and a sandwich from the bag.

"How about a deal then, hm? You eat up for me, we'll take a bath, and then a nap together." The blond suggests, letting her take a minute to think while looking at the food, then back at him. She tries running her fingers through her hair, but they get stuck, making her realize how gross she probably looks.

"Okay, but you have to promise you'll stay, for real." She speaks quietly, fidgeting with the white blanket. Leon carefully grabs her hand and squeezes.

"I'm not going anywhere, babygirl. Oh, plus I have a surprise for you." He gives her the food and digs into the backpack, taking out the deer plush. Y/n looks at the fruit bowl, deciding she'll start with that first. First, she looks over to see what he has, and seeing the deer makes her eyes widen. "Basil..." She quickly grabs her, feeling the soft fur makes her tear up. She hugs it tight, remembering when she first got it. It's a symbol of her relationship with Leon, losing it would be like losing a memory.

"Thank you, Lee." She whispered, a small smile growing on her. Leon's heart jumps in response, his smile also growing wider.

"Anything for you, love. Now eat up, I'll have whatever you don't eat, so don't force yourself."

~~~~~

Standing for a while is suddenly a hard task for Y/n, most likely because she's still weak and has been laying down this whole time. Thankfully she doesn't have to wait too long for Leon to set the warm bath. He looks over at her and goes to help her undress, taking the hospital gown off reveals a lot of bruising, some of which are starting to heal. It makes him sick, how could anyone do this to the love of his life? He can't help but stare in disbelief, and once she sees this, she grows scared and tries to pull away. Her eyes avoid his as she holds herself, trying to cover up. Leon frowns, his stormy blue eyes scanning her face. Stepping forward, he gently holds her arms and pulls her close to his chest. He rubs her head as he sways, letting her close her eyes and take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry I let this happen, Y/n. I should've stayed with you, I should've fought harder to find you. God- I tore everything apart to find you and it wasn't enough.." The older man rambles, his voice getting caught in his throat. Y/n frowns and looks up at him, the steam filling the room is actually quite soothing.

"Leon, none of this is your fault. Please understand that, we both knew the dangers. I'm just.. so fucking glad you found me." Her voice becomes quieter the more she speaks, clinging to him. "Will- will you take the bath with me?"

"If that's what you want, babygirl." He chokes out and kisses her head, she steps back to let him undress. She has to admit, seeing her beautiful fiance stand before her brings a great deal of comfort. If he can stay with her, she might be able to crawl out of the shell she'd been hiding in for about a month now. Sure, it may not seem like a long time, but it felt like years to her. After a couple of minutes, the finally step into the bath, Leon gently guiding her down. The warm water definitely feels foreign at first, eventually becoming relaxing for her body. Leon enters right after, sitting behind her to hold her close to his chest. He grabs the washcloth and soap, gently cleaning her skin. The intimacy is sensational, the touch of soft skin in such a careful matter truly made her feel human again. She has to remind herself she's not some experiment, she never had been. She's a person, a kind human with great intelligence and an amazing partner. Forget those agents that came in to harass her about everything she went through, she knows Leon will protect her.

And with time, she'll be ready to talk.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hello! I have two (separate) genres im interested in recs for, if youve got them (though combined would be fascinating tbh): Horror and farming sim-like ttrpgs. Horror im sure is fairly common, just not in my circles (which are adventure fantasy based); farming sim though seems like it may be rarer? for that id be interested in either solo or with 2+ people

Theme: Horror Games

Hello friend, I’m going to let one of my older posts do some of the heavy lifting, and point you towards the Small Town Farming collection I put up back in 2022.

You are absolutely right that Horror is much easier to recommend, but I’ll also try and put some quick recs for solo-farming type games at the bottom of this post.

1978: The Night They Came Home, by World Champ Game Co.

1978: The Night THEY Came Home is a 1-2 player horror roleplaying game telling the story of a fateful showdown between Survivor (a clever and resilient person caught up in horrifying circumstances) and Slasher (a legendary force of evil). Using a deck of poker cards, dual rule books, varied resources, and shared play space, players will recount the events of a forsaken Halloween, zooming closer into the haunting folklore of a small Midwestern town and its inhabitants, and culminating in a violent battle for survival.

Here is a game for solo gamers and folks who want a more intimate experience. If you’re a fan of Friday the 13th, this is probably in your wheelhouse! 1978 has a win condition, meaning that either the Survivor or the Slasher will come away as the victor, and the fact that this is also a game that depends on a deck of cards means that I think this might also be a good game for folks who also enjoy card games and board games.

Vast Grimm, by Infinite Black.

EACH MISERABLE DAY THAT PASSES, THE UNIVERSE INCHES CLOSER TO ITS INEVITABLE DEMISE.

Vast Grimm is a stand-alone, art-filled, punk-fueled OSR role-playing game about the few humans remaining in a universe being consumed by growing parasitic würms.

Are you a MAnchiNe ravaged by war, pieced together with remnants of bots and the little flesh left of your body? Maybe you're a twisted biochemist shoving needles into your arms in hopes that this next fix will be the one that saves you and what’s left of humanity? Or perhaps you are a soul survivor, like a cockroach, doing whatever is necessary to stay alive even if it means the rest of your Legion must perish.

This is a game about survival, no matter how gruesome things get, humanity must survive.

If you’ve heard of MÖRK BORG and thought it was cool, and if you want the same kind of energy but in a sci-fi future full of mutant animals and horrific parasites, then you might want to check out Vast Grimm. Your characters will have to ration food, energy and ammo in an unending battle against the worms. This game looks to have a large amount of support, from expanded content, to a number of adventures, to an online character generator. For over-the-top violence, plenty of alien goo, and shambling pathetic characters that look like they might fall apart at any moment, try out Vast Grimm.

The Lost Bay, by IKO.

What Is The Lost Bay? The Lost Bay is a Suburban Gothic tabletop RPG se199X. The Lost Bay is also the name of the setting where the game takes place: a coastal suburb inspired by films and media from the 80s and 90s. In it you play as a young person touched by the Weird, an ancient force that gives you supernatural powers. You roam the Bay with your gang, its malls, arcade games shops, skateparks and beaches, and fight the Horror that has awakened.

The Lost Bay is a game for folks who like their horror drenched in 90’s nostalgia. Characters are archetypal, and each one comes with special powers. Using your powers is exciting and effective, but also brings you closer to Scars, horrible truths about the world around you that will irrevocably change your hometown.

The Lost Bay is great for planning heists, rescuing friends, and trying to get out of dodge when the going gets rough. It’s not about fighting your way out, but more about trying to keep you and your loved ones safe. A lot of game designers have had a riot putting together adventures for this game, which you can check out in this game jam. The link above is for the Kickstarter, but in case you see this game after the campaign finishes, you can also check the game out on Itch.

Flyover Country, by Headstone Hills.

Fields of wheat and corn ripple in the wind, hungry eyes peering out between the stalks. Billboards along the road advertise strange and dangerous attractions. Smiles are too wide, manners too polite, secrets buried too deep. The neon light of a diner glows in the distance, but you may never reach its doors. An empty highway stretches out to the horizon, then wraps back in around itself. This is Flyover Country.

Flyover Country is a Midwest road-tripping horror role-playing game for 4-6 players: one gamemaster, or Watcher, and 3-5 players, or Drifters. It is designed to be played in one setting and without prep. It only requires paper, writing utensils, and a tarot deck.

This is a great option for a group where the GM is uneasy about doing a lot of prep. While one person acts as the Watcher, much of the events in this game are simply generated by drawing tarot cards from a deck. Characters will also draw from the Major Arcana to determine what their secret is - and what special ability it has given them. This is a game of hidden information, and grinding your characters down towards a tragic or grisly end.

Gravemire, by Clawhammer Games.

Gravemire is a tabletop roleplaying game about death, growth, horror, and survival, based in an original mechanical framework and set in the churning waters of the Louisiana bayou circa 1894. Players slip into the roles of outsiders arriving in the town of Scarstone, a rural outpost that has been warped by a terrible transformation known as the Convulsion. Once, Scarstone was surrounded by similar towns. The Bayou once had an end. Now, unknowable numbers of horrors seep through the uncharted backwaters, strange magic contorts reality to its whims, and the settlements that called Scarstone their neighbour jut half-ruined from the mire like bones from a wound. Times have changed.

Gravemire is a pretty brutal game, not afraid to kill your character and steal their soul. The town of Scarstone is a trap; your characters wandered in one day through curiosity or the desire for adventure, but leaving the town isn’t nearly as easy. Characters are built using a point-buy system, and as you play you may acquire more skill - but you will also acquire Aversions, which sap your Willpower and inhibit your ability to muster through the worst of what the game can throw at you.

If you want to check out an abbreviated version of the game, you can check out the Kickstarter playkit here.

Under the Autumn Strangely, by Graham Gentz.

"Under the Autumn Strangely" is a storytelling game of pastoral horror priming with anachronistic Americana set in a land that Never Was.

Inspired by "Over the Garden Wall" created by Patrick McHale, players collaboratively create a world uncanny and old. Codify and encourage tonal clash as the Three Roles meld whimsy, autumnal melancholy, and dread.

Take a wrong turn on a dusty road. Follow the sign past the red barn with peeling paint. Doubt your senses.

Get a little lost.

Welcome to the Never Was.

From what I understand about this game, it works best with three players, as there are three roles that the participants are expected to embody. One person plays the Arcadian, who embodies the landscape and setting. One person plays the Traveller, who acts as a “main” character. One person plays the Terror, which grows to dominate the story. Each role can only add to to one role’s suggestions, and can only deny the other’s. If you want to mix your horror with nostalgia and a romanticized vision of the rural USA, you might want to check out Under the Autumn Strangely.

The Facility, by Galen Pejeu.

You awaken, cold and in the dark. Fumbling around by low blue lights in a coffin shaped pod. You pull yourself out of the box, and in the dark see the faces of others. You are all wearing loose fitting white clothing and laceless shoes. Hospital patients? 

You peer into the dark, seeing little but hearing the sound of dripping, running water and distant machinery. You gather what you can, knowing that something is hunting you. It will be here soon.

Wait.

Can you remember who you are?

The Facility is a game for any number of players, taking on the role of ordinary people, stripped of their memories and trapped in a hostile and insane labyrinth of machines and interdimensional weirdness.

The Facility places your crew into an unknown place full of machines that want to kill you. It’s great for high-action scenes, and since your characters have lost their memories, I think the struggle to find pieces of who you are (or were) is a great way to zoom in and make the horror personal. The game is Breathless, so expect your character’s gear and/or abilities to slowly wear down over time, and for the staked to get bigger every time you pause to try and re-stock. If you want a science-fiction twist to your horror game, check out The Facility.

You Should Also Check Out...

My Shudders Rec Post

The Curse of the House of Rookwood, by Nerdy Pup Games.

Nature, Town, Farm, Villagers, by CardboardHyperfix.

Weeds in the Waste, by Meghan Cross

The Wandering Tea Garden, by AP.

Green Thumb, by Curious Frog.

The Bonsai Diary, by Sticky Doodler.

Iron Valley, by M.Kirin.

[specialagentlokitty]

Will Halstead x Sister!reader - protective

If ur still taking requests. Can I request a will halstead x sister reader? Just like general big brother protectiveness? Maybe shes been keeping her boyfriend a secret. Totally ok if you cant do! I really love ur writing! - Anon💜

You brother was getting ready for work when you woke up and stumbled out of your bedroom yawning while trying to wake yourself up.

“Should sleep earlier.” He chuckled.

“Shut up…” you mumbled.

Sitting at the table, you placed your head on the cool wood as you let out another small yawn.

You smiled when you heard the sound of a plate being place on the table along with a cup and Will ruffled your hair.

“Come on kid, eat. I’ve got to go soon, do you have any plans?”

“Got school sadly, but I’m going to hang out after with some friends and maybe see dad.”

“You’re going all the way out there?” Will asked.

You could hear the concern in his voice and you quickly shook your head.

“No, no, he’s going to meet me at the mall.”

Will nodded his head.

“Before or after meeting your friends?”

“Before so I can meet them after and Mia’s dad is going to drop me off don’t worry.”

Will smiled and went to go get ready for work while you carried on eating your breakfast.

“Hey do you need me to drop you off?!” Will called.

“Yes please!”

Putting your plate in the sink you jogged to your room to quickly get ready for school and you followed Will out of the apartment.

He dropped you at school and handed you some cash.

“For lunch, I know you have your card but save money for the mall. If you need anything just text okay?”

You nodded your head and hugged him before getting out of the car.

Will watched you jog over to a small group mainly girls he recognised as your good friends and a couple of guys and you all walked into the school.

You were bored of classes.

Lunch rolled around and you were sat at the front of the school, leaning back against your boyfriends chest while you all talked about what you’re doing after school.

“Hey Ty, can you pass me my drink?”

“It’s right next to you.” He chuckled.

He picked it up and handed it to you and you smiled as he rested his chin on your head.

What caught your attention was the ambulance driving up to the school and you quickly moved away from Ty.

He knew why, he wasn’t upset by it you explained your brother was really protective and you didn’t want to worry him.

You all watched as the ambulance pulled up followed by some police cars and you watched your brother jump out and run up to the school.

“What’s going on?” Jess asked.

“I dunno, let’s find out.”

You all went to crowd and pushed your way to the front to see your brother tending to some student that was on the floor.

“Another fight.” Ty sighed.

You reached behind you and held his hand as you all watched in worry trying to figure out what was going on.

The kid was wheeled away and Will was jogging behind them but stopped when he saw you.

“I need you to come straight home.”

You nodded your head and he jogged away and everyone frowned.

“That was weird.” Jess said.

“Yeah… Mia can you tell your dad I won’t need dropped off?”

“Course yeah, want him to pick you up after school?”

“Nah, Ty can take me, right?”

“Course.”

He kissed the top of your head and you all went back to what you were doing.

Ty dropped you outside the apartment complex but you didn’t get out of the car you stayed there with him.

“You’re brothers gonna catch us.” He whispered.

“He’s not home…”

“So that’s not his car?”

You looked where your boyfriend was pointing and panicked a little, kissing Ty you ran into the building to rush upstairs.

You got in and Will was pacing back and forth.

“Will?”

“Do you know anything about what happened? Did you hear anything?” He asked.

“No, what’s going on?”

He sighed and shook his head.

“Look, just stay home for the next few days okay? The schools going to be closed, your friends can come around but you need to stay here.”

“Will your scaring me…”

He walked over, wrapping you in his arms.

“Look, I can’t tell you what’s going but promise me you won’t leave until I tell you it’s okay?”

“I promise…”

Will smiled and nodded, taking a small deep breath before he pulled away and pushed your towards the kitchen to wash up from this morning.

He followed you and sat on the edge of the table.

He wanted to ask about boy he saw behind you, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. If you didn’t want to tell him that was okay, he just had to focus on keeping you safe.

And right now that was keeping you off the streets while someone was going around beating up kids trying to find someone

[jaksalot]

League of Villains x Child!Reader

fAll Platonic of course

I’m thinking you, reader, were a grown up and a hero at that

That is until you were hit by a villains quirk and were kidnapped and taken to the LOV before the heroes could save you

Having no memories and being helpless Shigaraki thought this was the perfect opportunity to take you down.

But, unfortunately, Toga and Twice stopped him

Saying something about how cute you are

So he spared you, for now

Toga!

Toga’s a terrible babysitter, I don’t know what to tell you

She almost stabbed you on three different occasions to make you not sad anymore

When she isn’t trying to stab you, she’s like a big sister(that has issues)

She’ll often take you to the mall and be called an excellent by sister by the oblivious people around her

She’ll most definitely steal thing from the store

But it’s for you!

She loves to let you play with her knives

She dresses you up in little cardigans and dresses no matter what gender you are

She’ll do your hair too, even though you might hate it, she’ll sit you down and demand to do your hair

She was denied babysitting privileges after the league found you surrounded by knives

If you gave her a deku plushie, or something that even remotely reminded her of Izuku, she’ll love you until the end of the world.

Her hugs are very scary

Mostly because she’ll breath in your ear and tell you how much you mean to her in a very terrifying way

Twice!

Twice is the greatest/worst babysitter on the team

He’ll give you cuddles, and then suddenly decide you’re gross

Will apologize for hours afterwards though

He confused you 

A lot

But your tiny child brain can’t help it

He’s gonna steal you away from Toga after he saw you playing with knives

No child is going to lose their finger on his watch

He’s often in the background when you’re playing with Toga, making sure she doesn’t hurt you too badly

He loves you/hates you at the same time

I mean look at how cute you are

But you’re taking all the attention off of him from Toga

Little attention grabber

Will mistakenly give you booze, but then over react when he remembers booze for babies is wrong

Goes all throughout the league trying to find a cure

Atleast until Dabi trips him and tells him to shut up

Twice will take you to the park at night, or just walk you around

If you can’t sleep he’ll probably waste out all of your energy running around, and then you’ll pass out on the way back home

Saved you from being lit on fire or turned into dust many times

Mr Compress!!!

He’d be a very fun guy to be around, and probably is great at entertaining kids

If you can’t sit still long enough to watch his magic show he’ll absolutely teach you

But you can’t teach with those baby rags on your body

Shopping it is! 

Will be like Toga and dress you up in a matching uniform with him

Little assistant

You’ll sometimes eat his marbles and give him a heartattack

What if one carried acid and you just injested it????

You’re one of the few that have seen his actual face

Which you hated

He’ll take you to renaissance fairs and perhaps a rodeo or two 

Just for fun

Will teach you to steal

But with flash

He’ll turn Dabi or Shigaraki into a marble if they ever try to hurt you

Problem easily solved

You’ll stay in his room for a while

At least until Dabi learns that you’ve been eating marbles and will casually snatch you up one night

Kurogiri!!!

Father of the year award goes to:

He’s very responsible with you, and raises you like he did with Shigaraki

Gives you an ipad and sits you down on the couch

Lets say, just for some reason, you HATE that ipad

Maybe it’s been touched by stinky Tomura 

Or you just hate technology as a child

You would get in the way with everyone else

And despite you being a hero you’re still a child

A child that Kurogiri adores

He’d absolutely carry you around and let you rest on a dark cloud pillow he created

Will NOT let you drink anything in the bar

You’ll cry if he’s not right there with you, so he just gives you some applejuice and a book to read

(He’s raising an introvert) 

I’d find it funny if he gave you a wine glass and poured applejuice into it and called it “Wine”

He’d bust out a gut from laughing so hard if you acted like a customer

Stealing some money and slamming it down on the counter

He calls you his little shadow and wraps you up in his mist

When you’re playing hide and seek with Toga and Twice he’ll hide you in his mist and when they both give up you’ll jump out

He gets emotional when you call him dad

He’ll take you on walks at night like Twice, and will treat you to little fast food places(eventhough he despises them)

Shigaraki

Crusty Big Brother

Will shove you around

Acts like a little brat 

Teaches you terrible things

“Hey kid go decorate Dabi’s room with this endeavor merch I somehow found lying around”

He treats you like shit, but platonically

The more you’re around him, the more he’ll let you play star dew valley with him

You two will just hang out in his room after a big mission

He’ll play league of legends and you’ll play star dew valley

This man will absolutely murder for you though

He’s like a mean big brother that will kill if someone hurts you

You find his quirk very funny and will laugh if he dusts something

You two are a menace to society

Sometimes when the itch gets too bad he’ll cuddle you

He’ll either cuddle or tease you

depends on his status

He got so proud so quickly when you said he was better than All Might

Bro practically crashed when you somehow made a plushie of him

When Kurogiri is busy he’ll just take you to the mall or even a playground to run around in

The king of terrible fast food places

Finally

The one you simps have been waiting for

Dabi!

This man knows his shit about kids

He might be burning himself and have family issues

But he has the most experience

You’re def infatuated with his quirk

You find it so cool!!!

He’ll find it very flattering and will sometimes show you

But it’ll only last for a few seconds

Will tell you stories about things he’s done

don’t be surprised if they’re lies

This man has a tattoo some where I just know it

And when you find it you’ll use markers to color it in

It’ll look terrible, and he’ll be honest with you about that

Play fights

All the time

He got you a shirt that said “Fuck Endeavor”

He calls you shit stain

While you call him “Dab-Dab”

Will take you arson hunting with him

By that I mean that he’ll take you with him when he lights something on fire

After he found out Mr Compress wasn’t stopping you from eating unknown marbles you were snatched with him

He have a tiny little mattress beside his

He’ll wake you up by throwing his blankets on top of you

Will carry you around the league so you don’t get trampled by villains

If someone ever hurts or talks bad about you at the league

Don’t worry

They don’t exist anymore

He’s a good big brother

Just not very good at not murdering people

Thank you for reading! I am always taking requests so pop one in through the asks.