#should i have made him uglier?

[imaweirdnugget]

Such a familiar situation.

This is for the Harry/Klassje swap au by @theinkyfrog check it out I think its so interesting with the parallels they do have.

Is the hanged man still Lely or is it someone else? I do like the idea Kim being in Ruby's place. What about Jean? How would he play in this? If at all? THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS. awesome au concept!!!

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (III)

A whole lot of confusion as to whether Reader and her yakuza friend are actually dating. After much back and forth and a coworker being threatened, the awaited confession might finally take place.

Bonus part: Kazuya tells Reader about his and Daitou's past and how they ended up working for the yakuza.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence

Tags: @vinivave @ansy-tea @evvie8 @angelicbunnee @jingerbreadoutofstock @azukoya @randomlyblues @alien-consummation @neverlandlostchild @mimiemie @toji-whore @cloudie-skay @lilkittenmitten

[Part 2] | [Part 4] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

The items are scanned and Kazuya finishes paying. He looks back, searching for Daitou, and finds him wandering among the narrow aisles of magazines and manga. They'd stopped by the konbini at the train station after their job.

"Here's your bentou." The blonde man extends a small box, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Say, do you have an upset stomach or something? You're uglier than usual." 

Daitou thanks him with a nod, but doesn't take the neatly packaged food. He's idly playing with the cover of a romance volume, bending and straightening its corner.

"Nah, nothing like that. Just, ya know, feels a bit like (Y/N)'s been avoiding me. She hurries straight home after work and barely waves hi. I thought we'd do more things together now that we're dating."

Kazuya nearly spits out the soda he opened while listening to Daitou's troubles. He snorts and quickly wipes his mouth. 

"Wait, are you serious? You actually asked her out? And she said yes??"

Daitou thinks back to the time he gifted you your stalker's finger and teeth, the way you defended him, and the way you quietly walked home and almost held hands. That pretty much made it official, didn't it? So he confidently nods to his utterly baffled partner in crime.

"You little rascal, you! Who would've thought you had it in you?!" He cheerfully slaps Daitou's back and wraps his arm around his neck. The dark haired man blushes and scratches his cheek awkwardly. "You should've told me earlier!"

True. Between the two of them, Kazuya has always been extremely charismatic and popular with women. His perfectly combed blonde hair, his sparkling designer suits, his luxuriously elegant cologne. The handsome features and assertive smile. More than once he'd been approached by modeling agencies, and he likes to joke his lust for violence stopped him from living the glamorous life. In comparison, Daitou has the opposite effect on people. The room will empty if he steps inside. He's unnervingly tall, with bulging muscles, has multiple scars crossing his face, and his prosthetic eye always ends up twisted in the strangest position, causing him to look like he's only missing the straight jacket. Everyone is shocked upon hearing about their friendship. 

So it makes sense that Kazuya would have the required experience to offer him decent advice when it comes to (Y/N).

"Listen here, if there's one thing you should know, it's that women like a guy that fights for them. You gotta show them you care. What can you offer that other guys can't?"

The tall man listens intently, with a concentrated frown as if taking mental notes. He's not entirely sure who he should fight in this ordeal, but he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Kazuya, so he nods vehemently to his words.

"That's the short preview. If you have any more questions, just come over later. I'm piss tired, so I'll go home and have the nap of a lifetime." He yawns deeply to showcase his exhaustion and slowly walks away, throwing his hand in a lazy wave. 

The yakuza remains standing, still ruminating over the words of wisdom generously offered by the expert himself. Is he to randomly beat up people on the street as you watch? Won't Boss be angry if he attacks civilians? He gasps in realization. Perhaps this is what Kazuya meant. What kind of man is he if he can't even go against his Boss? So what if Boss won't like it? He has to prove himself to you. 

With newfound determination, he clenches his fists and gazes out of the window. 

That's when he notices you. You seem to be returning from work. Even more - and this causes his jaw to tighten in anger - some unknown man is walking next to you, cheerfully chitchatting and gesturing. 

That settles it. 

"You really didn't have to walk me home." You laugh clumsily to the man at your side.

A new coworker recently joined your company, and you've been asked to show him the ropes. You gradually discovered you had quite a lot in common, throughout your ample opportunities to gossip and talk leisurely. Your schedule isn't as packed nowadays, given you'll show up earlier and leave later.

Normally you'd prefer to be in your warm bed as soon as possible, but you've been feeling rather tense since the incident with Daitou. During his heated exchange with Kazuya, you've heard mentions of 'being liked by women' and 'having a crush on someone'. You thought it involved you and you nervously awaited further explanations from Daitou himself, but on the way back he was completely silent. You didn't have the courage to bring it up, so you assumed there must've been a misunderstanding somewhere along the way. 

Which, after all, would make plenty of sense. What business would a yakuza have with you? He's already shown much more courtesy than it was required of him. Hoping he'd also confess his feelings on top of everything was downright ridiculous and you're embarrassed to admit you'd harbored such cheesy fantasies to begin with. 

"Don't sweat it. You might not know", the coworker warns with lowered voice, "but this area is reeking of gangsters. I'm surprised you've been fine so far, but you should be more careful."

"O-oh...I see..." You glance at him and hold back a smirk. You doubt he could protect you from Daitou or Kazuya, but you appreciate his chivalry nonetheless. 

There's an uncomfortable pause as you stand in your doorframe, having reached the intended destination. The man hasn't left yet, waiting expectantly. He lowers his head towards yours and you swiftly slam the door, muttering something about an emergency. 

"Cute." He thinks to himself as he chuckles and steps away.

There's always a next time.

The coworker heads towards the train station in a relaxed strut. At the first intersection, however, he feels his clothes being pulled and he finds himself abruptly shoved in an empty room by an unknown assailant. 

Daitou easily lifts him up by his collar and nonchalantly throws him in a chair. It seems to be a small storage unit, possibly belonging to one of the shops. 

"What's your business with (Y/N)?" He barks.

"Huh? I should be the one asking-" The man pauses for a second, going over his conversations with you. "Could it be that you're the stalker she mentioned?"

Naturally, you had left out the part where your stalker was carefully packaged and dumped in a place unknown. To your coworker, he was very much still alive and a potential threat.

The yakuza is taken aback. 

"I'm her boyfriend!" He retorts angrily. 

"Bullshit. She doesn't have a boyfriend."

Another slap to the face. Daitou's cheeks are becoming increasingly red and he runs his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm down. Why, this son of a...

He marches to one of the metal shelves behind, grabbing his tool belt. Simultaneously, the door opens and Kazuya sheepishly peeks his head in. His blonde locks are ruffled and one can tell he's freshly woken up. 

"Yo, I just realized I might've been too metaphorical with you back at the store so I've been texting you, but you didn't-...Wait, why is there a guy handcuffed to the chair?"

He crosses his arms, with a habitual scolding glare towards his friend. 

"I just caught this cockroach flirting with (Y/N)! Went all the way to her place!" Daitou whines, his face full of indignation.

"Of course you know where she lives, you fucking stalker." The coworker exclaims bitterly. 

"Watch your mouth buddy, he ain't no stalker!" Kazuya straightens his back and approaches the mysterious man. "If he's right, and you've been messing with his woman...We ain't letting that go. Today you learn why no one fucks with the yakuza." 

The two men exchange a knowing look.

You drop yourself on the sofa and groan. Tomorrow will certainly be strange. Was the coworker trying to kiss you just now? You'll have to think of a polite way to turn him down next shift. Is it because you're not interested, or because you're still hoping to have a chance with Daitou? You slap your cheeks vigorously, trying to pull yourself out of such thoughts. 

You suddenly notice the foreign wallet sticking out of your bag. Your  coworker had dropped it earlier today while running for the train, and you offered to throw it in your bag to save time. Except you forgot to return it.

You check your phone. It hasn't been that long, so maybe you can still reach him if you hurry. Without much contemplation, you pluck the wallet and sprint out.

As you dash past the buildings, you have the idea of calling the man and asking him to wait instead. Why run like a madman? You stop and rest a hand against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Ugh, you've been so scattered today. This should've been the obvious choice, instead you sprang out. Silly. 

From around the corner you can make out the familiar wails you've learned to ignore. Whoever the yakuza tortures is not your problem. You are about to scurry away, yet something about these whimpers feels odd. No...Could it be?

You tiptoe down the vacant alleyway and try to catch a glimpse inside through the small, dirty window. As a matter of fact, it is your beloved coworker. Kazuya is holding his arm against a table, with the fingers forcefully fanned out, and Daitou has a blade secured over the pinky finger. 

You elbow yourself against the door in a theatrical entry. 

"What the hell are you guys doing?! That's my coworker!" You yell.

Daitou freezes, and Kazuya instantly releases his grasp. They turn to you, shocked.

"Stay out of it, (Y/N), this is to be settled among men. This bastard insulted your boyfriend, we can't let it slide!" Kazuya regains his composure and defends his cause fervently, pointing to the man that's now sobbing and crying uncontrollably. 

"Boyfriend?" You question, mouth agape. 

The blonde man stares at you. 

"You're...You're dating, aren't you?"

"Since when?" You demand, confused and upset.

Both you and Kazuya turn to Daitou for answers.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Did you actually ask her out, Daitou? Did you say it out loud?" Kazuya's voice breaks in exasperation.

"W-well, I didn't...I didn't say it, but I thought..." the man's eyes dart between you and his friend. He gulps. "W-we almost held hands, didn't we?"

Overwhelmed with anger, the blonde stomps over to the shelves and kicks one to make his point, loudly bemoaning his friend's lack of social awareness. He can't believe he went along with his nonsense. Him, of all people! He should've anticipated it. 

As the coworker weeps and Kazuya continues his foul monologue, you can't help the blush that's now burning across your face. You fidget anxiously next to the tattooed man.

"Y-you thought we were dating?"

"Sorry for not making it clear." Daitou is once again twiddling with his prosthetic eye, dejected. "Is it too late to ask you out now? Because I do like you a lot..."

"Since you put it so nicely...I can't really say no~" Your ears are bright red and you're twirling your hair. Is it truly happening? Are you dreaming? Everything feels snug and fuzzy and the butterflies are swarming your stomach. 

You don't have time to enjoy your romantic encounter, as Kazuya is now behind you, clearing his throat.

"Alright, you lovebirds, what about this one here, then?" 

You suddenly remember your coworker and an icy cold flashes through your body. 

"Oh God, how will I explain this at work? I'll get fired!" You bite your nails in terror. You can already visualize the slip of unemployment. The long lines at the Job Center, you and the homeless. Panic begins to build up. 

Until Daitou's large hands rest on your shoulders. He's unexpectedly warm. 

"Don't worry about it, (Y/N). I'll have a word with Boss, and we can get you a job here. This way we can spend more time together", he suggests with childish enthusiasm. 

You glance up at him, moved by his soothing words.

"I wouldn't want to bother you like that."

"Hey, it's my fault you ended up in this situation. You can leave everything to me." He reassures you proudly.

"That didn't answer my damn question." Kazuya points out, annoyed.

"Can't we just kill him or something? He did call me a stalker, and I'm still upset about that..."

Daitou stretches and sighs in boredom, pondering the options. Once he's decided on the outcome, he shoos you away lovingly. You don't need to see this part. 

Bonus: Daitou's backstory 

"Oh, right, how did it go with your tickets?"

Kazuya is walking beside you, hands in pockets. Every now and then he removes the cigarette from his mouth to tap away the piling ash.

"Well, I still have both kidneys, but I won't be swimming in cash for the next months at least." You respond, slouching your shoulders dramatically for the effect. 

"Flying abroad is always expensive. Unless, I don't know, you book years in advance."

"Yeah. I should've looked earlier, but I wasn't sure about my work schedule. At least I get to see my family and friends for Christmas." 

After a few more steps in silence, you glance up at the blonde man. He notices your curious stare and raises his eyebrows, as if encouraging you to speak up. 

"What about you? Will you be going home for the holidays?"

He grins at your question and proudly places a hand on his chest.

"This is my home, actually! I was born and raised in this very neighborhood."

"Really? Was it not a yakuza quarter before?" Your eyes widen at his statement. 

"It was." Kazuya blows some of his smoke in your direction and you cough lightly. "You know the soapland further down the street?"

You nod.

"Mom used to work there. One of the clients got her pregnant and she found out too late. She had a room upstairs, and I just kind of tagged along. The other girls looked after me, too."

You recall one instance when Kazuya received a phone call about some drunkard causing a ruckus at the brothel, and he shot up without a word, rushed out and returned with bloodied knuckles. At the time, you'd assumed he's a client himself and maybe got attached to one of the girls. Now it makes sense. You're a little embarrassed of your obvious prejudice. If he grew up there, it must be his way of showing gratitude to the workers who loved him despite the circumstances. 

"Oh, what about Daitou, then? Is he from the area, too?"

The man frowns and purses his lips thoughtfully. After a moment, his features soften up again and he sighs.

"I suppose you're his girlfriend, after all. It's also not a secret per se..."

Your ears perk up at the strange reaction to your inquiry. 

"I mean, it's just a bit of a grim topic. No one knows for sure. Boss found him on the streets years ago, when he was a wee kid." 

He presses his thumb and index finger together, emphasizing the small size to you. 

"I don't know all the details, just what the Seniors told me - I was a kid myself back then - but it was pretty bad. Had no shoes on, scratches and cuts all over. His left eye was swollen and terribly infected, that's how he lost it, actually. Boss felt sorry for him, so he took him in.

They did try to ask him for parents or relatives, but apparently he wouldn't speak at all. Took him like a year to finally open his mouth. Even now, if you ask him anything about his past, he just pretends he didn't hear you. So maybe don't bring it up to him."

You shake your head along, urging him to continue with more details. Kazuya seems to warm up to the memories and slows down, indulging in the recollection. 

"Anyways, one day Boss' car is followed and he gets shot in the shoulder. Some snot-nosed trainees from the rival gang. They hadn't even gotten their pins yet, wanted to impress their older brothers I guess.

Daitou heard about it and went after them. One of our Seniors - he's a tough guy alright, been with the Family for decades - he told me he was sweating like mad when they found him. Daitou was just a teen at the time, but he butchered those guys up so bad they couldn't tell them apart anymore. Even bit a few bullets, and still kept going, like a crazed animal. The adults were freaking out. They didn't expect him to be this strong.

I suspect they were pretty afraid of him, you know? They were probably thinking, "if one day he has it out for us, we're done for!", so they told Boss they should kick him out. But at this point Daitou was like his own son, so he laughed and said, "What's the matter with ya, he does your dirty work and you wanna get rid of him?! If the boy wants to fight, let him!", and he arranged for Daitou to join the Family officially. I was recruited around the same time.

We didn't get along at first, I mean, they warned me to stay away because he's crazy and also Boss' favorite. He didn't hang out with anyone. He had his own jobs, the mercenary stuff no one else wanted to deal with.

You might not believe it, but back then I was an angry, stubborn asshole. It didn't sit well with me that this guy was out there, doing his own thing. I had a reputation myself, before I dropped out of high school I was pretty much undefeated. I thought I'd see it with my own eyes, this all-powerful jackass even the Seniors avoided."

You smile faintly, trying to imagine a young Kazuya without the expensive, flashy suit and polished appearance.

"So one evening I just walked up to him and told him to join me outside. Didn't even give him a speech, just rammed my fist into his face. This was my signature move, you know, I can't even count how many guys I knocked out with this punch. Straight into the jaw, sends your brain spinning. Whew, and this guy? He didn't even flinch! Just stood there and looked at me like I was dumb. I was pissed off at this point, you can imagine, it felt like he was mocking me. So I yelled we ain't done until one of us gives up. 

He understood what I wanted and finally fought me earnestly. Hell, he even knocked some of my teeth out. This one here's an implant. Mad expensive. Anyhow, as much as it hurt my pride, I'd lost fair and square. So I got up, wiped the blood, and asked him to come grab a drink with me. My treat. 

You should've seen his face, (Y/N). I think it was the first time I've witnessed him smile. 'Really? Can I? Are you sure?' He was like a stray dog after you've thrown him some leftovers. Kept that dumb grin the whole night. You could've given him a clown hat and people would've paid to see the circus. 

That's when I realized this poor bastard probably just wanted a friend. The next day I went to pick him up again and he was beaming like a princess. Heh. Afterwards he started following me around and eventually Boss called me in. I thought I got into trouble or something, even brought a bunch of gauze pads in case I needed to slice off my finger. Turns out he'd heard of us becoming pals, and he asked me to maybe attend Daitou every now and then because he always leaves a mess and everyone's too scared to deal with him. We've been teamed together ever since."

You realize you've been standing in the same spot ever since Kazuya begun talking, completely entranced by his story. He chuckles upon seeing your expression and ruffles your hair. 

"Man, I sure rambled a lot. Sorry about that. In any case, that was my piece about Daitou. I'm sure you already know this, but he's not a bad guy. Just has a twisted sense of loyalty. Once he finds someone to serve, he doesn't see anything else.

Hell, I'm his closest friend and I'm convinced he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if it was for Boss."

Upon further consideration, he smiles and winks at you.

"Or for you. Especially you."

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt1 | Pt2 | this one is the last part!

After Steve has dropped Nancy off at her house – and Nancy has talked some courage into him – he drives to the uglier part of town, over Cornwallis and then into Forest Hills. He can only hope Eddie is home. If not, he'll try Jeff's house, and then Freak's or Gareth's. He had to promise Nancy he'll keep searching even if it has him ending up at Reefer Rick's boathouse again.

Luckily, no such search actions seem necessary when he gets to the trailer park: as soon as Steve opens his car door, he can hear loud music emerging from inside the Munsons' trailer. Even though it isn't exactly Eddie's usual taste, something tells Steve that Wayne definitely isn't the one who put this one on.

Should have known better than to cheat a friend And waste a chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you

He knocks on the door, but is not surprised when no one inside seems to hear him, so he pushes it open to let himself in instead.

He finds Eddie sprawled out on the floor in front of the old boombox. His eyes are closed, but even from Steve's place in the doorway he can see how swollen and red the skin underneath them is. His hair is spread out around his head on the floor like a dark halo, and his fingers are restlessly tapping on his own arm to the melody of the saxophone solo.

Steve finds himself frozen in the doorway, captivated by simply watching Eddie lying there in his own bubble while the music slowly fades out. Despite the sadness radiating off him, there's something weirdly beautiful about it, and Steve can't look away, can't move, can't make a sound.

Then, Eddie suddenly sits up; his index finger is already stretched out towards the rewind button when Steve clears his throat to make his presence known. Eddie whips his head towards him with a startled sound.

'Jesus Christ, what the hell?!' he yells out. 'How long have you been standing there? No, you know what, don't answer that, just get the hell out!'

'Eddie, I-'

'I don't wanna hear any of it, man! I thought – no, I'm not talking to you. Fuck you.' Steve knows it's supposed to sound angry, but Eddie's voice starts wobbling dangerously towards the end of his sentence.

'Eddie, please just hear me out,' Steve says, stepping further into the trailer. The end of Careless whisper has left a deafening silence in its wake. He half expects Eddie to cover his ears and start singing loudly, but he's only met with a teary-eyed death stare and crossed arms.

'I'm not seeing any girl, Dustin got it all wrong,' he starts to explain. 'I wanted to tell him who I was really seeing, but I couldn't - not without your permission - so I told him I was seeing someone. Meaning you. I haven't been seeing anyone ever since that first time we kissed. I didn't need to. I've only been thinking about you.' He pauses. It's scary, to let himself be vulnerable like this while Eddie is still looking at him like he despises him. But he takes a deep breath and pushes himself to say it all.

'I don't want to see anyone, boy or girl, ever again, as long as I can have you, Eddie. I promise. I've been falling for months, but I didn't wanna scare you off with any labels you might not want for us – but you're it for me, Eddie, one hundred percent. I never meant to hurt you like this. It's all a big misunderstanding; there's no one else for me.'

Eddie is still sitting on the floor, looking up at Steve with wide, teary eyes. Something in his face has slowly shifted while Steve was talking; the harsh lines around his mouth have turned softer and the betrayal in his eyes has made way for something Steve can only hope to be good.

'You wanted to tell Dustin about us?' is all Eddie says, his voice croaky.

Steve takes another step towards Eddie, then crouches down to the ground until he's sitting right next to him on the worn carpet.

'I mean, I know I don't wanna hide what I'm feeling for you. Especially not when people are thinking I'm going out with some girl when all I want is to be with you.' He reaches out to grab Eddie's hands in his own. 'So yeah, I think I wanna tell Dustin. And everyone else, basically. That is, if we're on the same page about what we are.'

Eddie frees one of his hands from Steve's grip to wipe it over his eyes. His palm is wet when his hand finds Steve's again.

'What about boyfriends?' he says, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face.

Steve squeezes his hands, unable to stop a matching smile of his own appearing. To hear that word falling from Eddie's mouth... He had expected it to feel good, of course, but he had never anticipated it to feel like this: like the whole world suddenly makes sense again.

'Yeah, I can do boyfriends,' he answers, his voice breathy with the multitude of emotions bubbling up inside of him. 'That sounds – sounds good. Great. Perfect.'

Eddie surges forward to catch him in a kiss that's a bit wetter than Steve is used to. Steve happily kisses him back, though, and he can barely suppress a shiver when one of Eddie's hands makes its way upwards over Steve's back and into the hair in his neck. There's a softness to his touch that easily drives Steve crazy with relief.

When they pull back, both of them are smiling dumbly and breathing heavily.

'I'm sorry I had so little trust in you,' Eddie tells him.

'That's okay, I understand,' Steve is quick to answer. 'As long as you leave listening to George Michael to me again from now on.'

Eddie makes a face, causing a big frown to appear between his eyebrows, along with all kinds of wrinkles around his nose.

'God, I can't believe you witnessed that and still wanted to be my boyfriend,' he says, adding an exaggerated shudder for extra dramatics.

Steve clenches his arms tighter around Eddie. 'You won't scare me off that easily,' he murmurs. 'It was kind of adorable.'

'It was pathetic.'

'Yeah, a little bit. But in an adorable way.'

Eddie rolls his eyes. 'You're an idiot, Steve Harrington,' he says. 'But... In an adorable way.'

Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx @candlecatsblog @goodolefashionedloverboi @jojobeaner @pinkdaisies1998 @giverobinagfbrigade @therealscarletpumpernickel @darkwithcoferie @duraffinity @lyriclight @almondflavoredbookworm @kingelyx @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @m-owo-n @altermagic @sirsnacksalot @littlebookworm86 @platinum-sunset @chaosgremlinmunson @morganski-19 @cam-cat-writer @slime-hoe @bat-outta-hel @justsearchingformystory @notfromtwitter @ashwinmeird @marklee-blackmore @warlordess @breealtair @pansexualhousecat @louwilsonscreamingpapa @inikokoru (more tags in the replies bc tumblr is being a dick again)

[peterm4rker]

(❆⋆.˚) the stich that stole christmas !

🕸🕷✮⋆ [haechan x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.2k w. cursing, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

christmas with donghyuck was always an adventure and a half.

there was always something for him to do, an occurrence to make your supposedly peaceful winter time into the most chaotic time possible. one year it was baking cookies for your entire friend group, another volunteering at the most hectic shelter he could find. this year, he had decided it was appropriate to engage in an ugly sweater competition.

“you’re going down” he snickered, poking at your cheek with a smug expression as you made your way into your shared room “i’m going to have the ugliest sweater you’ve ever seen”

you rolled your eyes, hiding the humor that was laced on them “nu-uh, mine is going to be so much uglier” you stuck your tongue out at him.

“my sweater is going to be so ugly that you’re gonna cringe when you see it” he pressed, getting closer to you.

“i always cringe when i see you” you gave him a smug smile, chuckling at the way he pouted. you stole a quick kiss from his lips, attempting to kiss his pout away. “i’m just joking, baby”

“you hate me, just say that” he whined dramatically, grabbing your arms to throw them over his shoulders and let his weight fall on your body, pushing you to the bed. you let out a loud laugh as you hugged him tighter, nuzzling your nose to his hair.

“i don’t hate you, hyuck” you reassured, hand flying to his hair to brush your hair through it. 

“i don’t believe you,” your boyfriend answered, a pout evident in his voice.

“and what am i supposed to do to make you believe me?” your voice was laced with humour and fondness as your heart shrinked with love.

“let me win the sweater competition.” you could feel his smile on the skin of your neck, tickling you softly.

“absolutely not, but i can give you kisses” he lifted his face immediately from its hiding spot on the curve of your shoulder as he heard your words, puckering his lips and waiting for what you had promised.

you couldn’t help but giggle softly before peppering his face with pecks, ending it with some on his lips. being with donghyuk meant having to deal with his clinginess and his whiny nature, but you would be lying if you said they weren’t some of the many reasons why you had fallen in love with the brown haired boy.

…

“does it have a picture of chenle on it?” donghyuck asked curiously as he followed you around the kitchen. 

“of course not, why would it?” you snorted, continuing to move around the space as you prepared hot cocoa for both of you.

“well, he’s pretty ugly” he shrugged, looking at you with lovesick eyes, following your movements like a lost puppy.

“let’s not lie to each other” you chuckled, looking back at him and stealing a peck from his cheek before he began whining.

“then is it a picture of your family dog?” he asked, trying his hardest to not let his smile break through his lips.

“hey! he might not be beautiful but he's cuter than you” you stuck your tongue out at him, feigning offence as you took both of your mugs to leave them on the coffee table in front of your tv.

“i take offence to that, if i'm not cuter than that dog then maybe i should be the one put on that sweater” he made an exaggerated grimace.

“you’re so mean, he’s beautiful” you retorted, trying not to laugh at his funny remark while you climbed on the couch, covering yourself with the cozy blanket.

“you literally just said he’s not” donghyuck pressed, following you quickly and cuddling to your side.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about” you tried to ignore as you turned the tv on, looking for your favorite christmas movie.

“yeah, sure” he scoffed, rolling his eyes in feigned disbelief. he watched you for a couple seconds, knowing that he had a limited amount of time before your attention was taken by the tv. “i have a proposal” he heard you hum as you clicked into the movie, pausing it and looking back at him with a questioning look. “let’s have a prize for the winner, the boys can be the jury”

you thought about it for a second. with your friends as judges, you had a pretty big chance of winning. they loved annoying your boyfriend, anyways. “okay, and what’s the prize?”

the boy took a second to think, tapping his chin with the point of his finger as if he were in a movie. “loser has to wear a maid dress around the house for a whole week”

the seriousness in his voice and expression caused you to let out a groan combined with a laugh. what did you expect?

“if you’re fine with your friends seeing you in one of those when they come over like six days a week, sure” you retorted.

“i don’t care because i’m not going to be the one wearing it” he shrugged, a smug smile placed on his lips.

“oh, so you’re fine with them seeing me in it? i’m surprised you are, knowing all the things chenle has told us” you arched your brow at him, smiling at the sight of his smile falling immediately.

“you’re right, we have to think of something else” he nodded, making you chuckle softly. it didn’t register in your brain how you could be so endeared by such simple things, but you were with every single thing he ever did.

“what about loser pays for dinner?” you asked as you reached to brush a strand away from his eyes, your hand moving on its own looking to touch him some way. he instantly nuzzled his cheek to your hand, and you swore your heart melted right there and then.

“that’s boring” he pouted, looking at you through his eyelashes like he knew you loved “i will gladly pay for your dinner any time you want”

you smiled instinctively, leaning to peck his lips quickly. “okay then, the loser pays for dinner and has to wear the sweater out to whatever fancy restaurant we chose.”

he thought it over for a few seconds before finally nodding. “okay, deal” he smiled as he moved to envelop you in his arms, pulling you closer to him. “i hope you know that i’m going to try harder to win now, i won’t ruin my fashionista rep”

you snorted as you grabbed your mug from the table and moved to lay your head on his chest, taking the remote and pressing play. “you don’t have a fashionista rep” 

“shh, baby, the movie is starting” he shushed you, making a smile widen on your lips as you watched the title appear on the screen.

…

you sighed heavily as you opened the door to your apartment, wanting nothing but to jump into your boyfriend’s arms after a long day of responsibilities. as you closed the door behind you, your eyes searched for him, eyebrows furrowing together when you noticed he was nowhere to be seen. you checked your watch, he should’ve gotten home two hours ago. huh, weird.

“hyuck? i’m home” you called out, settling your things on the table and beginning to take off the many layers of clothing that covered your body from the cold weather of the outside world. your body jumped slightly as you heard a loud noise coming from your room, but you calmed down as you heard your boyfriend’s familiar voice exclaim a hushed “ouch, shit”

it didn’t take long for hyuck to come rushing into the room, running towards you and engulfing you in his arms to twirl you around. “hi, beautiful”

“hi, my love” you smiled and cupped his cheeks, pulling him into a short kiss. “what were you doing?”

his brown eyes widened like they only did when you had caught him red handed on something, blinking a couple of times before shaking his head “nothing, don’t worry your pretty little head about it”

you looked at him, squinting slightly as you tried to figure out what he was doing before he heard you come in. if he wasn’t terrified of what was to come next, he would have laughed at your face and how you made that exact one when you couldn’t read something that was a tiny bit too far away.

his eyes searched yours nervously until a loud gasp erupted from your lips, your hand flying to point at him. “you were looking for my sweater!” you accused.

shit.

“no i wasn’t!” he tried to defend himself, hands flying up to his sides as if they were to prove his innocence.

“yes you were! you dirty cheater” you exclaimed, your finger poking his chest accusingly. “i cannot believe you”

“oh, stop being so dramatic! i didn’t even find it” he rolled his eyes, a fake pout finding its way onto his lips.

“so you were looking for it” you glared at him, and he sighed heavily.

“maybe, but i didn’t find it so it literally doesn’t matter.” he watched as you opened your mouth to retort, but he was quicker. “now, stop complaining and let's go take a warm shower together.”

maybe you would tell him no if you weren’t about to freeze to death before, but you were… and he was offering… and well, you wouldn’t have ever refused, really.

“let’s go, but know that i’m relocating the sweater” you walked away, aiming for the bathroom.

“i looked everywhere, no way it’s here” he spoke, following after you like he always did.

“i guess we’ll never know”

… 

the day had finally come. the majority of your friends were sprawled around you and donghyuck’s living room, except for mark, who jaemin had said had a prior engagement to attend to. you decided to ignore the fact that he had been missing many of the group activities since december had started, you would pry it out of him later.

“okay, i think it’s time,” donghyuck spoke, interrupting the ongoing conversation as he looked at you. you nodded at him, standing up from your place on the floor and looking for renjun’s eyes to send him a signal. he nodded as well and stood up as you and hyuck disappeared into separate rooms of your house, leaving the rest of your friends confused.

renjun handed them each clipboards and a marker before standing on the entrance to the living room “gentleman, today is the day” he started off dramatically “today, the fate of a dinner and hyuck’s nonexistent fashionista rep is on your hands” his words made everything make sense, and the rest of the boys straightened on their seats to play along. “the two participants will come in with eyes closed, as they are not allowed to look at each other until the judges have made a decision.” he continued, raising his voice so you would both hear him. “without further ado, participants, come in”

you thanked the universe for choosing your house to host the event as you walked into the room with your eyes closed, trying your hardest to remember where everything was placed. you could feel hyuck standing next to you as you reached what you thought was the middle of the room.

“you’re soo losing” your boyfriend whispered next to you in a sing-song voice.

“never, fashionista.” you stuck your tongue at him even though he couldn’t see you, a smile replacing the gesture as you credited your banter for the muffled laughter that came from your friends.

“okay, the judges have made a decision,” renjun spoke, a smile evident in his voice. “make sure to look at them before you look at each other please, now open your eyes in three… two.. one”

you opened your eyes and were immediately faced with confusion as each of them held a word to form the phrase “you are so stupid”. your eyes instinctively switched to your boyfriend, trying to see if he was equally as confused.

“oh, you’re fucking kidding me!” you exclaimed as you finally looked at him, seeing nothing else but the fact that he was wearing the same exact sweater as you.

the boys exploited in loud laughter as you stared at each other in disbelief for a few seconds before he groaned dramatically and you prepared for the tantrum he was about to throw.

…

“well, it wasn’t that bad at the end of the day” you broke the silence as you finished the bite of food you were eating. 

“yeah, i guess it wasn't,” donghyuck smiled, the dim lighting of the restaurant reflecting on his honey coloured skin, making him even more majestic than he normally would even if he was wearing the ugliest sweater you both could find.

★ blue's corner ;; heyyyyyyy. i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it ! i've been feeling really fluffy for hyuck and i think its showing a lot but idc bc he deserves it. this is for my wife, my everything, my one and only @lyvhie and also part of the love actually series that i'm doing with both of my blogs ! ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @fairytopea

© peterm4rker, 2024

[ginkgo-phyta]

Hotch would definitely give you the princess treatment, and you know what? Jack would too, after seeing his father he knows how to treat a girl right. And the team would definitely tease Hotch, because his son is going to steal his partner from him :)

omg no LITERALLYYY tho like just like omfg alright i got carried away with this and its not even really what you're talking about but listen to me okay LISTENNNNN

tagged spencer reid x reader because i want more people to see this teehee pls dont hate me i have spencer fics yall should read if you havent already but also you should still read this too

YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH AARON HOTCHNER AND ITS INFLUENCE ON HIS SON JACK gn!reader, FLUFF, no warnings(?) another informal blurb typa format :P

you and hotch decide together you'd like to date for a while first, take things slower and fully solidify and strengthen your relationship, before you become a part of jack's life. you didn't want jack to get attached to you or write you off too quickly in case life took you in different directions. you didn't know it at the time, but hotch introduced you to jack when he was sure he was going to marry you some day- and soon. he had been so incredibly head over heels in love with you and once you and jack got close, the little guy really got to witness how highly his father regarded you- and just how he showed you it every day. even in the little things. from the way hotch pulled out your chair, held all doors open for you, always kept your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up in the fridge and pantry, never let you open your own car door, the way he made spaces for you in his bathroom and closet without even being asked, and how he always stuck to your weekly dinner date- whether in person or over the phone. to the way his father would look at you, listen intently to whatever you were talking or ranting about, how he'd cup your hands and press quick kisses to them or move any bothersome strands of hair from your face when you'd eat, and how enthusiastic he always was when you and jack would spend time together.

jack was a bit hesitant with you at first, he was a bit older at that point and the quickness with which beth had left his life had admittedly stung him, leaving an ever-present welt behind. but he warmed up to you, appreciative of the way you welcomed him with open arms, never pressured him to spend time with or even like you (letting him accept you at his own pace) and how you clearly were not trying to take the place of his late mother- even many, many years into your relationship with his father. what he loved the most was how you always encouraged hotch to recount stories of haley, put pictures of her in jack's room or wherever else he wanted them, and how you would remind him: "your mother would be so proud of you jack." you would watch old home videos of their old family and jack never failed to notice how you wouldn't ever feel negatively about it. that was really what won him over. he also loved how open you were with both him and his dad- every day you'd say "i love you!" both casually and purposefully. it instilled in the young boy the importance of expressing appreciation, love, and care for others.

before you, hotch was always a just bit emotionally closed off. even when it came to jack he liked to keep himself a bit more reserved. he tried to stay a strong and unwavering inspiration, only wanting to show his son his best face. but once you came into their lives you inspired hotch to open up more than he had the last few years after haley's passing, inspired him to embrace even the "uglier" emotions he felt in life: grief, anger, sadness, and tiredness. it ended up passing onto jack in small ways, allowing him to feel even closer to dad. you became a huge structural post in jack's life. your love for one other inspired him, as he grew up he dreamed of one day having a relationship like yours. he looked forward to being able to treat his significant other the way his father cares for you.

you loved jack as if he was your own, though you never wanted to say that to him for fear of overstepping your role. aaron would always assure you, especially as jack grew older, that his boy felt it. you watched him go from a playful child, to a moody teenager, to a budding adult eager to make his mark on the world. and you were there supporting him the whole way.

you'll spend a lifetime with the both of them and although there will be many funny, loving, or frustrating moments you'll hold in a special place in your mind, there's one memory from when he was still a youngin that you love the most. it was a surprise dinner party at your fancy restaurant, aaron had booked the whole place just for you and the guests to celebrate your engagement and he had enlisted jack's help to plan the whole thing. jack, the bau team, and your friends and family were all there to shower you in love. the most memorable part of the night was the moment everyone sat down for dinner, all around a giant table (possibly multiple tables pushed together). as everyone moved to take their place jack ran so eagerly in front of you to pull your chair out before his father got the chance. you were shocked for a second before bursting out in a melodious laugh- it was so unexpected but you were incredibly moved. "oh, jack, thank you!" your loving, excited, and genuinely appreciative tone made jack's already huge grin grow even wider and more endearing. everyone else had noticed this too and laughed in joy along with you. "oh my god!" "that was so freakin cute" "he did not just do that!" rang out around you. of course aaron noticed, standing in silence for a second, a similar smile mirrored on his face, before he shook his head with a chuckle. as you took you seat, jack made sure to push your chair in just before you sat down fully, diligently executing what he'd studied his father do hundreds of times before. you turned to thank him, but before you could even open your mouth jack moved to take your cloth napkin from the table, shake it open, and carefully place it in your lap. awwws flooded in from all sides of the table

"oh you are just so adorable jack, thank you so much." you said as you pinched his still slightly chubby cheek "you are just the kindest, sir." you playful tone cause jacks entire face to blush and he shyly walked over to take a seat next to you.

"what? you take my job, and now you don't even want to sit next to me?" hotch spoke up from you other side. jack knew his father was joking, but he still bashfully giggled, sinking a bit more into his seat

"you better be careful, hotch," derek spoke up from across the table, motioning to his former boss with a breadstick, "looks like you got some competition there."

everyone broke out into more laughter, especially aaron. in the midst of the hysterics, the once-stoic man's hand crept into your lap to hold your own, thumbing over the back of your hand and the beautiful engagement ring wrapped around your finger. you shared a glance while you both laughed before you looked over to jack. wordlessly, your hand suddenly hopped up to ruffle up the little boy's hair, causing him to scrunch up his nose and giggle even more.

but you didn't have to say anything, your eyes held the truth. love. jack continued to look up at you, feelings of warmth, joy, and safety draped over him like a fuzzy throw, covering him from the crown of his head to the tips of his fingers and toes. he knew that with you in his life now, besides him and his father, everything would be okay.

A/N: SCREAMING how was this anon? sorry i didn't delve into the team teasing hotch more bc these thoughts were swimming in my head and i NEEDED to get them down perhaps i could do another post of just teasing quotes if that's something you'd like! i got a few ideas swimmin already teehee i hope you enjoyed my love!!

[justmeinadaze]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 8679

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman. 

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck me he’s big. 

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

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

“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”

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

“H-Harder, Steve, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way. 

“I’m doing what now?”

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

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

“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

“What? No. I would never—”

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

“Nothing. I don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around. 

Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew. 

As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else. 

Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table. 

“Is that my favorite piggy?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away. 

“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face. 

“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”

As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car. 

“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”

“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.” 

Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.

Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders. 

“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy. 

“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”

“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”

“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”

The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before. 

“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”

“WHAT?!”

Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both. 

“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things. 

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”

“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”

Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard. 

***

When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.

“You ok, babe?”

His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway. 

When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”

“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”

His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.

Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days. 

Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played. 

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

What could he have meant by that…

Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life. 

There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master. 

They must have been in two different worlds in high school. 

What must have happened to bring them together?

“Steven, you need to calm down.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall. 

“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”

“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”

“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”

“Why then?”

“She…she seems like a nice girl.”

“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”

“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”

“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”

“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”

“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”

Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.

“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch. 

“I didn’t know you could sew.”

“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”

“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter. 

“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”

They both glance at each other as you blush. 

“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you. 

“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”

“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”

Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look. 

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”

“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”

“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material. 

Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them. 

It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you. 

“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”

All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes. 

“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”

Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him. 

“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”

As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control. 

“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”

“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.

“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.

“Edward…”

“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”

“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”

“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”

The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip. 

“He said show me respect.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”

You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face. 

“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”

“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 

“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”

“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”

He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that… 

Or…

“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”

“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 

“Go ahead, Y/N.”

As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.

You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body. 

“Did you see our cocks?”

“Yes.”

Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans. 

“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”

“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”

Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately. 

“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”

He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you. 

“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”

“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”

“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”

While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks. 

“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”

“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions. 

“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.

You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?

“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”

As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.

“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”

“Our?”

Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them. 

“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest. 

The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it. 

“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “

“Good. Good girl.”

His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs. 

“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”

The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward. 

“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”

“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm. 

“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”

Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm. 

“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”

You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core. 

“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.

As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you. 

“What did I say? How do you answer us?”

“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”

Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them. 

“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”

“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”

“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”

Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.

“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass. 

“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”

Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand. 

“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”

“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.” 

At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. 

“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”

Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit. 

“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt. 

“Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again. 

“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”

Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him. 

“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”

Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room. 

Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan. 

“Sensitive. I like that.”

Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met. 

“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”

“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.

“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled. 

“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”

“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”

“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”

Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them. 

“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”

“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”

They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his. 

“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”

Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress. 

“We know. You’re sorry.”

Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.

“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”

“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.

“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”

“What do you want, Ed?”

“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”

Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.

“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”

Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly. 

Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest. 

“I’m…I’m…please…”

Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own. 

“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him. 

“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”

His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps. 

“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”

“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.

Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed. 

“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Green.”

His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows. 

“Green, what?”

“Green, SIR!”

You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward. 

“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”

“Green, Mr. Harrington.”

As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half. 

“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you. 

Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together. 

“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips. 

“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”

The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours. 

“Still green, babe?”

“Yeeeees, sir.”

“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.

“Oh my god!”

With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest. 

“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”

“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”

“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”

“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”

“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”

As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit. 

You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you. 

You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were. 

“For me?”

“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you. 

Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs. 

“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go. 

Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”

As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.

“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”

Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom. 

“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind. 

“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”

Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back. 

“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped. 

“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”

Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers. 

“I guess we can sleep in the—”

“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts. 

“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”

At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.

“You’re worried.”

“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”

“10 years. Not much.”

“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”

“So do you, honey.”

“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”

“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”

“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”

Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you. 

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

@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon

[sunafc]

Caught in the web – 9, romantic

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Suna knocks on the bathroom door, ‘Y/n?’, he whispers, ‘Can I come in?’

The girl opens the door and his eyes widen seeing the state she’s in, ‘Y/n...’ his hand trembles as he reaches out to her, eyes fixed on her side where a big cut made its way through her suit, pajama and skin.

‘I’m fine,’ she grabs his hand and smiles softly at him, ‘Ignore that, it looks uglier than it is, I promise,’ she gently takes the clean tshirt and first aid kit from his other hand, ‘You passed the infirmary on your way here? Thank you,’ and she places them on the sink.

Y/n takes the suit off of her, her pajama top is covered in blood and it sticks to her skin.

‘Let me help you,’ Suna opens the aid box and gets the sanitizer and cotton pads out, ‘You should take that off,’ he says pointing to the stained top.

The girl obliges, leaving herself wearing her bra and pajama pants. She leans on the sink with her back and winces a little, gaining a worried look from her friend.

‘I’m okay,’ she quickly says, ‘Just disinfect this and I’ll be–’ a groan leaves her lips when the sanitizer hits her wound, ‘Fuck,’ she breathes out.

Suna holds the cotton pads against her skin with a gentle pressure, ‘Sorry,’ he says, ‘I’m gonna do that again, I’ll be quick.’

Y/n holds her hand over her mouth getting ready for the second round.

Suna’s hand rests on her side for a little while, holding down the pads. His eyes worriedly scan her face and then the rest of her body, ‘Do you have any other injury?’

Then it all dawns on her, how close their bodies are, how she’s half naked, how worried he is for her, how gentle he was in taking care of her, how his hand is still on her skin and how there’s a weird, unknown feeling growing in her stomach.

She clears her throat, ‘That’s all,’ she lowers her gaze, ‘Thanks.’

Suna moves from her side and grabs some bandages, ‘You’ll be fine, right?’ He covers the wound all over and fixes it with a knot, making it thigh but careful not to hurt the girl.

‘I’ll be as good as new tomorrow,’ she reassures him, ‘Spiderman heals faster than normal.’

He nods as he holds out the clean tshirt he brought her, ‘Here, wear this,’ he watches as she makes the tshirt fall down her body, it’s a bit big on her but it looks cute. Suna smiles to himself, he goes to place everything back into the aid box, ‘How did this even happen? And why do you kinda smell like smoke?’

Y/n lets out a chuckle, ‘Here,’ she pats the sink next to her signaling the boy to get there and then she tells him about it.

notes:

– suna almost died on the spot when y/n said she stained her pjs with blood

– he run to the infirmary before going to find her in the bathroom

– he also almost died for everything that happened in the bathroom

– y/n finally realized her feelings! yippee!

– suna was really excited abt giving y/n his tshirt

– they talked for two hours straight then decided it was time to get some sleep especially for suna that has practice in the morning

– i hope there aren't typos in the written part 😭

taglist: @loveelylacey @mysteriousballer1na @loveliepa @wyrcan @lilchubbyyy @strxwberri-s @kitnootkat @yuminako @lovsvinny @punkhazardlaw @alexrin115 @iiwaijime @httpakkeiji @garfieldissocool @phoenix-eclipses @honeyfewr @dieforleclerc @tooru-bread @atsumuenthusiast @hycuye @le000xxgrd @canthavetoomuchchaos @neuviloved @lcvemiyuki @dazqa @itsdragonius @nyxlai @aboveasphodel @walllflowerrrsss @thepurpleempath @livixxn @futuristicxie @itsmiyamore @gsyche @zzzlevislothzzz @tsumuus @naweirdo @nishayuro @perinferii @piapiaweee3 @tojirin @savemebrazilhinata @twiishaa @samuel1004 @eri2222 @neoclb @shookykookie30 @arraxthatsonjah @does-directions @corvid007 closed [50/50]

[metalomagnetic]

Snippet for 'It runs in the bood'

I was so moved by all the lovely comments I got, that it made me want to work on the new chapter immediately, even if I probably should rest, instead.

Anyway, here is a little taste of Sirius being his horrible self.

-----

He finds Snape crowding Quirrell against a wall, acting all intimidating.

However, he’s a fucking looser that can only intimidate little children; it’s only when Sirius shows up that Quirrell bolts, making himself scarce so quickly, Sirius could swear he more flew away that walked-

I must be tired. Sirius must be seeing things that aren’t there. He had a very rough Samhain night, like all Samhain nights are for him, and after that, he had to open a letter to read Harry fought a fucking troll.

“That’s how you do it, Snivellus,” Sirius barks at him. “See, I just have to show up and people flee from me.”

Now it’s Sirius that crowds the miserable twat against the wall. “I hear you’re trying your hand at bullying, Snivellus. The problem is you’re trying it with my boy. I thought I should remind you why that is a terrible idea, the worst you’ve had in ten years.”

Snape glares at Sirius, with those black holes he has instead of eyes.

“How is it possible you got even uglier?” Sirius asks, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Snape pulls out his wand, face twisting with hate.

Sirius laughs. “Really? You want to curse a Hogwarts Governor? Not only you got uglier, but stupider, too. Truly, life doesn’t seem to agree with you. Shut up!” he growls, when Snape opens his mouth. “I don’t care to hear what you have to say; I never did.” He steps closer, towers over Snape, who still holds his wand firmly, but hesitates to do more with it.

“You know what I think, Snape? I think you should have another moonlight encounter with a four legged, furry animal. I think the first one wasn’t enough to teach you a lesson. You know why it wasn’t enough? Because James saved you. But you got him killed, you sniveling worm. You got him and Lily killed, and now there’s no one to save you when I send Greyback after you. And I will, if I hear a single complaint against you from Harry. You know I will.”

“You-” Snape hisses, going red and deathly pale at the same time. It’s a funny combination. “That’s all you do these days, threaten to set the werewolf on people? Brave Gryffindors should fight their own battles-”

“You’re unworthy of my wand. Curses are wasted on you. I even feel sorry for Greyback, to stain his fangs with your disgusting body…a pity. Alas, that’s why I have minions, to spare me of such undignified tasks. You’d like to have minions, too, no doubt. You’d love to have the means to set a werewolf on someone; that’s why you’re on a power trip with the children, you fucking arsehole, because they’re the only ones powerless enough to listen to you. But you don’t have anything, that’s the truth. Remember, I used to tell you, when we were kids ourselves? That you’ll die alone and unwanted? Seems I was right. No doubt you’re still sleeping with Lily’s picture on your pillow, since the poor photograph can’t exactly protest to your pathetic presence. At least have the decency not to antagonise her son- the one that you orphaned.”

“Sirius,” a firm voice calls from the end of the hallway.

It’s Dumbledore’s no nonsense voice, very different from how he sounded half an hour ago.

“Oh, sorry,” Sirius hisses at Snape. “I forgot you do have someone. A master to serve. A new one, that is. You’ve forsaken the first one, after all-”

“Sirius!” Dumbledore’s voice gets even steelier, and it’s coming closer.

“Stay away from Harry, you greasy pice of shit!” Sirius warns, and then turns and storms away.

And if that weird Quirrell stalks after him again, he’s going to meet the bad end of Sirius’ wand. He’s reached the limit of his patience for the night.

For the entire fucking year, actually.

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Ten

Fool's Fare: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: ASSAULT, ATTEMPTED SA, feelings of jealousy, reader avoiding her problems, smut (pain kink, fingering, dry humping, p in v, dirty talk, slight breeding kink), arguing, descriptions of blood, violence, misplaced rage, idiots in love. I think that's it, but PLEASE let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: Just under 5.7k

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You always thought monsters were found solely in the spoken words of stories passed from person to person in low lights, in hushed whispers, in frantic glances.

They were the things that parents warned their children about, their gnashing teeth and glowing eyes hunting them in the dark, reminding them to stay close, to stay mindful, to stay safe.

You didn’t believe in monsters. You hadn’t since you were little, but now you wondered if monsters weren’t the creatures that roamed the nights, preying on children and unsuspecting folks as they traversed the shadows. Perhaps they were the unsuspecting victims of circumstance, the victims of choices made and consequences dealt with no care for the intentions behind them.

Did any one person ever intend to become a monster? To become the thing that parents warned their children about? Were they born or were they made? Was a monster capable of being a good person? Or did the title bar one from redemption? Were they even capable of love?

Captain Jake Seresin was a good man, of this you were sure and certain. You saw the way he treated the men of his crew with respect and fairness no matter how far down the totem pole they were. You saw how he smiled at the children in the different port town, green eyes twinkling as he waved at the babies and ruffled the hair of the small children that greeted him. You saw the way he closed his eyes in the setting sun, the sea breeze ruffling his golden locks, the smile that lay in a shadow on his lips as he savored the moment.

You watched him in those moments, wondering how anyone could think him a monster. You were no stranger to his harder moments or his rougher actions, but you supposed you had your fair share of the same. Despite seeing the uglier side of him, if you could even call it that, you still found yourself drawn to the rugged captain all the same. Your eyes would wander toward him before you even had the chance to realize what you were doing, green eyes meeting yours and snapping you out of your reverie as heat would rise to your cheeks. It was a wonder the roof of your cabin had no holes in it from the way you lay awake at night, staring daggers into the worn wood as your mind raced with thoughts of the captain, of what would happen should you either fail or succeed in having the curse lifted.

It had been two weeks since the events on the isle, and the captain had yet to lay a finger on you, as promised. On more than one occasion you had waited with bated breath as he would reach for you, only to huff quietly in disappointment as he would stop and let his fingers drop back to his sides. You found you missed his touch, the constant reassurance it brought to you that you were safe under the watchful eyes of your captain.

Truly, you found that you missed having him around you so constantly. You missed the late night filled with quiet laughter and the shared tales of growing up in your different parts of the world. The way his fingers would play with the ends of your hair or smooth over your cheeks as he studied you while you told your stories. Or the way his emerald eyes would light up with joy as he recounted a story of he and Javy back in the days before he took command of the Hangman. You missed him.

Of course, the captain was sure to keep up with your sword lessons, and you were proud to say that his hits were growing fewer and farther in between. You had yet to best him, but you caught the flashes of pride that danced in his eyes every time you came close.

You once again found yourself perched in a chair inside a busy tavern, the other ladies bustling around the room with drinks and ample cleavage on display for wandering eyes of men. You saw several members of your own crew casting longing glances at the ladies, and you suspected several of the newer members would try their hands at sating the undeterrable desire that coursed their veins.

You let out a long, labored sigh as you rested your chin on your fist, eyes scanning the room with disinterest as the men spoke around you. Natasha sat across the room, a gaggle of men surrounding her as she regaled them with titillating tales of her adventures and coy flirtations disguised as teasing japes. You wondered if you could ever find yourself feeling so carefree, envying her ability to forget the current circumstances as the deadline to end the curse drew nearer with each passing day.

The tension from your group of friends was palpable as they watched the blond captain oversee the signing of the poor, new souls sign away their lives to one of servitude. Javy stood at his side, arms crossed with a stoic expression on his face, but the way he would glance over towards Natasha just a few tables over was not lost to your watchful eye.

A pretty red head sauntered over towards where your captain sat, a lascivious smile curled on her painted lips as her eyes wandered over Jake’s form draped across the wooden chair. A manicured hand came up to rest on his shoulder, dipping down towards the open V of his cotton shirt as she leaned down to whisper something in his ear. His hand reached up to hers, taking it, and you felt the ugly twist of heat curl in your chest as your cheeks warmed. You stood abruptly, chair scraping against the stone floor as the others cast wary glances your way.

“I need some air,” you muttered, already moving towards the exit, shoving past the several large bodies, drunkenly swaying as they blocked your escape route. If the others called after you, you didn’t hear them over the noise of the tavern and the blood rushing in your ears. He would touch her, but not you? His touch you had to beg for, seeking it out yourself because he refused to touch you for some stupid sense of honor and valiance, and yet he gave it freely to the first woman who came in his sights.

The night air was cool on your skin as you finally managed to break through the crowd. You paused only for a brief moment before you pushed forward, determined to put some distance between yourself and the stifling air of merriment.

You had made it only a few yards before you heard your name ring out in the quiet streets, the familiar timbre causing your heart to clench in mixture of anguish and anger as your thoughts swirled inside your head. He had deprived you of his comfort for weeks, had kept you at bay and away from him for so long, and now he suddenly wanted you?

You ignored him as you sped up your pace, hearing the sound of his footsteps pick up as well. You rounded a corner, pushing yourself back against the entryway of one of the buildings and out of the dim light cast by the streetlamps. You waited with bated breath as the footsteps rounded the corner, a flash of blond jogging past your hiding place before coming to a slow stop once he realized you were nowhere in sight.

“Guppy?” He called, uncertainty laced in his voice. You stayed silent, still, as he glanced around the buildings lining the street. You shifted in the shadows, pressing yourself as far back as you could as you watched him. He let out a deep sigh, hunching over as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Guppy, please,” he said again, twisting as he inspected the shadows. “Can we talk?”

You didn’t want to talk, not with him. At least, not in that moment. No, you wanted him to feel as helpless as you had for two weeks, reaching out only to be ignored. You wouldn’t forgive him so easily.

You needed a moment to breathe, to think. You had been afforded so little time to yourself, constantly bombarded with tasks on the ship in between your sword lessons and chatter with your friends. You hadn’t allowed yourself a moment to process the events of the isle and the information you gathered after, and you found your frustrations and feelings from the past two weeks boiling to the surface.

Jake let out a curse under his breath as he paused in his turning. You watched as his teeth worried on his bottom lip, indecision clear on his face before stalking off in the opposite direction. You waited a few moments, making sure he was gone before slipping out from the shadows, scanning the street for signs of anyone. Seeing signs of no one, you looked back one last time in the direction the captain had disappeared in before turning towards the harbor.

You managed to make it back to the ship before the tears started leaking past your carefully constructed wall of feigned indifference. It was quiet, the entire crew having decided to try and find some sense of normalcy at the tavern, and you were thankful for that serendipitous turn of events as you padded across the deck towards the stairs to the galley.

The ship swayed in the tide, causing you to be somewhat unsteady on your feet as you stumbled towards the kitchen. The ale felt sour in your belly, and you were sure some food would help settle it before you retired for the evening to wallow in your feelings.

A part of you knew you were being unreasonable in how you were handling the situation, and as you scrounged up some bread, you huffed at your own unwillingness to address the issue.

You would never move past this rough spot unless you sat down to have a conversation with the captain. Two weeks had allowed the wounds to fester, and avoiding the situation would only make it worse.

You had just found the last of the cheese, making a mental note to pick some up at the market tomorrow before departure when the creak of one of the floorboards caused you to pause. Letting out a sigh, you turned around towards the entrance to the kitchen. It was the captain you had expected to see, so it surprised you to see one of the crew members bracing himself against the frame of the doorway, dark eyes fixed on where you stood. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought him drunk or ill with the way his skin shone with sweat, the paleness of him showing in stark contrast to the shadows of the room. The bags under his eyes caused him to have a skeletal appearance, and the hair on the back of your neck stood at attention as the two of you stared at one another.

“Evening,” you offered, wincing at how small your voice sounded. “Can I help you?”

The man said nothing, thin lips turning downwards as he cocked his head to the side. He took a slow, heavy step forward, and your eyes immediately darted towards the knife that lay on the edge of the counter. It wouldn’t kill him or cause much harm by any means, but it might slow him down enough for you to escape should you need to.

“Are you hungry?” You asked him, inching slowly towards the knife so as not to cause suspicion. “I can make you something if you like.”

“You know we’re always hungry,” he sneered, looking at you with disdain. “Haven’t had a sated belly in months. Haven’t had a drink that’s not left me more parched than before either. And women…”

He paused, eyes raking over your still form, and your heart pounded in your chest. The night was still fairly early, and you would be surprised if anyone made their way back to the ship anytime soon.

“We all know that you’re the only source of relief on this ship,” he continued, eyes growing impossibly darker as he took another step towards you. “You’re always surrounded by that lot, though. None of us can get close to you. Tha’s why when I saw you leave, I knew I had to take my chance.”

You felt your fingers twitch as you glanced back over at the knife, taking a small step sideways as he took another haggard step forward.

“Chance at what?” You asked him, voice barely above a whisper, and you cursed yourself for how shaky it sounded. The man stopped, standing slightly straighter as his cold, black eyes fixated on you.

“Relief,” he uttered, the word barely passing his lips before he lunged for you. You were faster, barely, as you scrambled for the knife. You gripped the handle in your hand, whirling around just as the man’s body crashed into yours. You let out a grunt as you stumbled, nearly falling to the ground, but managing to catch yourself on the counter. Fury coursed through your veins as the man’s hot breath washed over your face, his eyes blazing but almost unseeing as he reached for you. You brought your hand up, slashing at his face with the knife.

He let out a howl of pain as he clutched his now bleeding eye, falling to his knees as the thick, red liquid oozed out between his fingers, and you took the moment to scramble away from him, hissing as your hip collided with the edge of the counter. Your eyes fixed on the dinner bell hanging just by the stairs of the galley. You glanced back for half a second to see the man staggering to his feet, hand still gripping his skull as he fixed a murderous glare on you. You sucked in a breath as you bolted from the kitchen, the bell growing closer and closer as you willed your feet to move faster.

Your fingers wrapped around the rope attached to the bell and you pulled frantically, the loud clanging of the metal echoing through the room and up the stairs onto the deck. You hoped that it was loud enough for someone to hear and investigate.

Your thoughts were cut short as a hand yanked you backwards by your hair, a hiss of pain leaving your lips as your hands clawed at the ones just out of reach behind you.

“You miserable, little cunt,” the man growled, slamming you into the wood of the entrance, “I coulda been nice to ya, but now? Now I’m going to make sure it hurts.”

Your cheek ached from the force of the impact, the rough wood scratching your skin and adding to the sensation as you struggled to break free of his hold.

“Stop your squirmin’,” he muttered, hand wrapped around both of your wrists as he gripped your shoulder with the other to pull you back away from the wall. You took that moment to bring your foot back as hard as possible, heel meeting something solid in the process. The man let out a grunt of pain before his hand moved from your shoulder to grip your chin, pulling it back at an awkward angle to look at you.

“Now listen here-”

You didn’t let him finish, instead opening your mouth and biting down as hard as you could onto his fingers. He let out a pained yell as your mouth flooded with the taste of iron. He snatched his hand back, his other letting go of your wrists. You took the opportunity to flee, feet thudding up the steps to the deck. You turned your head to glance back over your shoulder, but before you could get a gauge on how far away the man was, you ran into a solid wall of muscle.

You let out a grunt as you stumbled back, nearly falling down the stairs before an hand reached out to grab your hip and steady you. You reeled back, eyes locking onto brilliant green, and your body sagged in relief.

“Guppy?” Jake frowned, eyes scanning you head to toe. You were sure you looked a sight in that moment. The throbbing in your cheek was pounding, the skin there sticky with what you were sure was blood. Your wrists and shoulders ached from where the man had twisted them back.

At that moment, thundering footsteps sounded behind you, and your heart jumped in panic as you twisted around in Jake’s hold. The man’s murderous gaze landed on you, his lips curled in a sneer before dropping at the sight of the captain behind you. His skin paled as Jake’s hold on you tightened, and you felt the familiar sting of tears behind your eyes.

“What happened?” Jake barked, and the man in front of you flinched at the tone. Neither of you said a word as you stared at one another, daring the other to speak first.

Footsteps sounded on the gangway, and you turned to see a small group making their way onto the deck, headed by Javy. The quarter master stopped short as he saw the scene in front of him, his usual stoicism slipping into a look of shock before they schooled once more. He pushed his shoulders back and made quick strides to stand next to the two of you.

“Captain,” he said, arching a brow at the man behind you. “What seems to be the problem here?”

“I was wondering that myself,” Jake growled, the tension rolling off of him in waves. A beat of silence passed before Javy let out a drawn-out sigh.

“Thomas,” he snapped, drawing the man’s attention. “Get your ass down in the galley. I’ll be dealing with you in a moment.”

The quarter master’s tone left no room for argument and the man, Thomas, cast one last glance in your direction before retreating back down the steps.

“Reuben. Mickey,” Javy barked out. Both men hurried to follow Thomas down the steps without another word, giving you curious looks as they walked by. The quarter master turned to look at the captain, lips pressed tightly together as he glanced down at you.

“You might want to get her cleaned up,” he said quietly. Jake said nothing. He guided you towards the cabin, his touch surprisingly gentle as your feet stumbled beneath you. You felt the first wave of exhaustion hit you then, sagging further into Jake’s side as he led you past the door and down the hall to his cabin.

The room was just as you remembered, not having seen it in the weeks since the captain started pushing you away. The man in question led you further into the room before guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. Your mind was foggy, but you were vaguely aware of Jake moving. The sound of water being poured from a pitcher and into a bowl filled the room, and the blond kneeled before you with a cloth in hand. He took one of your hands in his, stroking the back of it with his thumb gently.

“Guppy?” He murmured, eyes searching your face. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” you croaked quietly. Jake gave you a comforting smile that seemed strained more than anything else. He looked away to mess with the bowl to his side, wringing the cloth of the water it had soaked up before turning back to you.

“You had me worried there for a second,” he said finally, dabbing at the scratches on your cheek. “I couldn’t find you after you left the tavern, and then I heard the bell on the ship, which I thought was odd for this time of night. I go to investigate and you run right into me with one of my crew hot on your tail.”

You said nothing, eyelids drooping as you fought the urge to sleep that was quickly taking over. Jake worked methodically, dabbing gently at your cheek and wiping away the blood that stained your skin.

“You should get some rest,” he told you, dropping the cloth back into the bowl and moving to stand. You watched him, taking note of the way his brow furrowed and his lips pulled down into a frown. He set the bowl on one of the tables littering the wall before turning back to you.

“You must be exhausted after today,” he continued, making his way back over to you. He brushed the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear before cupping your cheek gently. He bent down to press a kiss to your forehead, pulling away slightly, but still lingering.

“I mean it,” he chided, hands pushing you and guiding you to lay back, “you need to get some rest. We’ll talk later, alright?”

You nodded, eyes already falling closed as he retreated.

You awoke with a start, sweat clinging to your forehead as you bolted upright. The lingering feeling of being chased hung in the air as your chest rose and fell with every pant of air. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the sun looked to be well in the sky from where you sat on the bed. It was at that moment that the door to the cabin swung open.

Jake stood in the doorway, a look of concern on his flushed face, as if he had been running.

“What is it?” He asked, breathless. “What’s wrong?”

You stared at him dumbly. “What?”

“I heard screaming,” he replied, brow furrowing as he inched into the room, the door closing behind him. “I thought something was wrong.”

You continued to stare at him as he padded closer, studying you.

“How’re you doing?” He asked finally, softly. The events of the night before rushed back to you. The feeling of helplessness, the pain, the fear. You thought about what Thomas had said to you, about wanting to feel relief, and a wave of anger crashed into you so suddenly that you were on your feet before you knew it. You stomped over to Jake, shoving at his chest. The captain was taken aback, stumbling backwards in his surprise.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up to defend against the blows of your fists against his chest. You ignored his outcry, swinging your hands blindly in front of you.

“Guppy, stop,” Jake said, scrambling to grab your wrists and stop you. You bared your teeth, rage pulsing through you much like it had last night.

“Dammit, stop!” He snapped, finally getting ahold of your wrists, stopping your tirade. The two of you stared at each other, panting from the exertion. Jakes eyes bored into yours, searching for what, you didn’t know. You yanked your hands free of his, pursing your lips in a tight frown as you studied him back. A warmth blossomed in your lower stomach, and your breaths grew labored for a different reason. Jake’s expression morphed into one of confusion, which didn’t last long as you leaned up to kiss him.

He let out a noise of quiet surprise before returning the kiss with enthusiasm. One hand moved to grip your waist, pulling you closer as the other snaked up to cup the back of your neck. Your arms wrapped around his neck, caution thrown to the wind as you moved your lips against his. Jake licked into your mouth, drawing out an embarrassingly loud noise from you. You felt the smirk against your lips, and a twinge of annoyance fluttered through the surface.

You pulled back, breathing heavy before pushing against Jake’s chest to dislodge yourself from his embrace. He gave you a puzzled look as you spun him around, pushing him down onto the edge of the bed. You hoisted your skirts up around you before settling down on his lap, once again attaching your lips to his. He let out a grunt that quickly dissolved into a moan as you began to rock against him, the hardness of him pressing into you through his trousers.

His hands settled on your hips, guiding you over him as his mouth devoured yours in a kiss that was more tongue and teeth than anything else. Your hands roamed his figure, up the span of his torso, over his shoulders, and into his hair. Your fingers entwined with his golden locks, scratching at his scalp and eliciting a drawn out grown from the man beneath you.

You clutched at his hair, yanking his head back harshly. Jake let out a hiss as his eyes focused on you. Green was swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils, and a look of pure lust adorned his face as you held him still.

“It’s your fault,” you spat, hovering your lips just over his. His brow furrowed once more.

“What?”

“He wouldn’t have gone after me if you hadn’t been avoiding me for weeks,” you continued, grinding down on the bulge in Jake’s pants. He gave a wanton moan as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Nothing to say?” You breathed, a moan escaping your lips as pleasure coursed through you.

“It wouldn’t have-fuck!” He groaned, “it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t run from me.”

You let out a growl before yanking his head to the side, running your nose along his neck. You sank your teeth into the meat of his shoulder, drawing out a pathetic whimper as his grip on you tightened, the muscles in his neck straining as he fought for control.

You let out a startled yelp as you were flipped onto your back, Jake’s hands scrambling to untie the strings of your shirt, baring your chest to him. The cool air caused your nipples to start pebbling, your chest heaving as you gazed up at him.

Jake lowered his mouth down to capture one nipple between his lips, laving it with attention as a hand reached up to grope the other. Your back arched as you threw your head back in bliss, hands curling in the soft locks of your lover once more. Jake nipped and sucked at the skin of your breast before shifting his attention to the other, and you glanced down to find him already looking at you. A smirk ghosted on his lips as he trailed a hand down under your skirts.

His fingers brushed your lower lips, sending a shiver up your spine that left you wanting more.

“Look at you,” he cooed, running his hand up and down your slit, your wetness coating him as you moaned. “Already so wet for me. You get off acting like such a wild thing all the time?”

His thumb circled your clit, and you let out a high-pitched whine as you arched into his touch. The smirk was full-blown now as you clung to him.

“Don’t you worry, pretty girl,” he murmured, cradling the back of your neck to bring your forehead to rest against his. His nose nuzzled yours as your breaths came out in quick pants. “I’ll take good care of you.”

Slowly, he pressed a finger into your entrance, your walls gripping the digit tightly, and he let out a breath.

“Fuck, so tight,” he muttered more to himself than to you. You clung to him, fingertips digging into his shoulders as he slowly pumped in and out of you, adding a second finger before long.

“Such pretty noises you make for me,” he cooed once more, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before drawing back. You tried to chase after him, but he moved just out of reach with a chuckle. “You’re squeezin’ me so hard, darlin’. You gonna let go for me?”

You let out another whimper, the coil in your belly curling tight as you scrunched your eyes closed, and you fought to hold it off just a little longer. Jake tutted, moving the hand on your neck to grip your chin firmly. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his disapproving gaze.

“Don’t you go holding back on me,” he growled, speeding up the motion of his fingers, paying special attention to your clit. “Your pleasure is mine. Now give. It. To. Me.”

With a final thrust, the coil sprang, pleasure coursing through your veins as you let out a keening moan. Jake leaned forward, swallowing your pleasure with a debauched kiss that left your head reeling for air. He pulled away, and you gasped for air, sucking in lungfuls as you came down from your high.

Jake littered soft kisses along your neck leading down to your shoulders, and a new wave of need filled you. You ran a hand through his hair, the other reaching between the two of you to pull at the laces of his britches.

“Jake,” you breathed, looking at him through your lashes. “Need you.”

Jake pulled back with a huff of a laugh as he looked down at you, hands moving to help release him from his pants.

“Not even going to wait for us to undress?” He teased, sucking in a breath as your hand wrapped around his length.

“Need you now,” you insisted, stroking him. He let out a groan, shifting back on his haunches as you released him, spreading your legs with a whine. Jake hesitated, and you pouted up at him.

“What is it?” You asked, leaning up slightly to get a better look at him.

“It’s just,” he paused, pressing his lips together and turning his gaze away from you. “I need to know if this is real. If this is more than just anger, and adrenaline, and any feelings you’re having about the deadline coming up.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. You sat up, taking his hand in yours and squeezing gently.

“You don’t have to worry about any of that,” you whispered. Jake looked back at you, eyes searching once more, and you gave him a soft smile that you hoped eased his worries.

“Kiss me,” you said. Jake returned your smile, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him with you as you laid back. The kiss morphed into one that was more debauched, quiet moans falling past your lips as Jake trailed his own down your neck.

You reached down to grip him once more, spreading your legs and aligning him with your entrance. Jake wasted no time, leaning back to watch you as he pushed inside of you slowly. You let out a gasp, hands clutching at his arms as he filled you, the slight burn pushing the air from your lungs.

“Taking me so well, sugar,” he crooned, running his knuckles along your cheek. “So warm and wet for me, fuck. Could stay inside of you forever.”

His words had you clenching around him, and he let out a strangled moan.

“You keep doin’ that, and I’m not gonna last long, darlin’,” he chuckled.

“Need you to move,” you whimpered. “Need you to fuck me.”

Jake didn’t respond, instead leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss as he pulled his hips back, only to push them forward once more. He soon found a rhythm, and the sound of skin slapping and the cacophony of noises from the two of you soon filled the room.

“Feel so good,” he muttered in between kisses along your skin. Your nails dug into his shoulders now, legs wrapped around his waist, urging him on. “Never felt something this good, shit. Never wanna leave. Never want anyone else, just you. Squeezin’ me so hard, yeah. Just like that. I’m not gonna last much longer, darlin’, you just feel too good.”

“Need it,” you choked out, the coil inside of you on the brink of bursting once more. “Need to feel you.”

“Fuck, sugar,” he groaned, hips moving faster and losing their rhythm. “Want me to fill you up? Is that what you want?”

You nodded, moans escaping your lips left and right as you teetered on the edge.

“Dirty girl,” he huffed with a laugh. “Feel you clenchin’ around me. Don’t you worry, I’ll give it to you. Keep you nice and full, and then you’ll swell with me. You like the sound of that? Like the idea of me marking you from the inside out?”

Your hips bucked up to meet his, desperately chasing your release, and Jake obliged by slipping a hand between the two of you to toy with your clit.

“Need to feel you come around me, pretty girl. Then I’ll give you what you want,” he cooed. “Come for me.”

His words were all it took to send you over the precipice. Your moan caught in your throat, and your back arched as you came hard around him. Jake’s pace picked up before his hips stuttered, a moan leaving his lips as warmth flooded inside of you. He gave a few more shallow thrusts before stilling. His breath fanned across your neck, your fingers running through his hair.

Jake shifted off of you, pulling out of you with a quiet hiss as he shuffled to lay next to you. His hand gripped your waist, pulling you close with a sigh. You nuzzled into him, resting your head against the pillows as you held the captain in your arms, his head resting on your chest. Neither of you said anything for a long moment, just basking in the afterglow of your coupling.

“I love you.”

It was so quiet, you weren’t even sure you had heard it at first. Your fingers paused in his hair for a moment before continuing their path. Something swelled inside your chest, and you willed the tears to stay locked inside. What you were feeling would only serve to cause you more harm if everything went poorly, and still…

“I love you too.”

A/N: You all have the fact that I started watching Black Sails this weekend to thank for this. But seriously, I know I took an unexpected hiatus after everything that went on last month, and for a while there, I wasn't even sure about the future of this blog. Thank you all for sticking by me as I navigated what I was doing, and I hope to have more for you guys here soon!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[avensthetic]

𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐇, 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇

︴INFO : aventurine x reader, fluff, angst if you squint, churin is implied to do shady stuff for a living, the usage of doll and princess as an endearment

︴SYNOPSIS : in which aventurine is your friendly neighborhood spiderman, and your classmate...

aventurine hadn't just tangled with the interastral peace corporation tonight—he'd been dragged through the dirt by them. or at least, it felt that way. every inch of his body throbbed in testament to their relentless fighting. still, he held on to a smirk, as cocky as ever, as he stumbled towards his dingy apartment. 

then he crashed. not the graceful dive through his own window that he'd initially intended, but a full-body slam through a neighboring one. glass shattered, raining down like startled confetti and adding more cuts to his already battered body—not fun. 

"well, well, what do we have here?" he forced a grin, ignoring the way his muscles screamed. instead, his eyes landed on you, his startled classmate, now staring wide-eyed at the city's friendly neighborhood spiderman hanging upside-down from your ceiling. 

"don't even think about—" words caught in his throat. this was bad. he guarded his identity with more fervor than some guarded state secrets. carelessness like this could spell disaster. 

"i wouldn't dream of it!" you held your hands up, a mix of alarm warring on your face as he dripped blood on your clean bedroom floor. "um, are you okay though? because that looked incredibly unpleasant. and get off my ceiling please."

"just peachy, sweetheart." his usual flippancy was edged with a strain he hoped you wouldn't notice. "don't need your pity."

the mask of the carefree hero was a second skin, but beneath it, exhaustion threatened to drown him. you saw something, a flicker of pain in his eyes and the way his normally playful grin you’ve grown used to see in class had tightened. 

"hey, how about we get you out of those tights and take a look at those bruises?" your voice was soft, laced with a concern that made his chest tighten for reasons beyond the fight. 

before his usual defenses could kick in, he found himself sitting on your couch, ridiculously domestic for the guy who was known as a vigilante. the first-aid kit you brought seemed more like a child's tea party set compared to the injuries he sported, deisgned only for small cuts and burns. but your touch... it was careful, surprisingly tender for someone who, by all rights, should be freaking out right now. and you made work with what little first aid kit you have on hand, not for banged-up heroes.

"you get yourself into a lot of trouble, don't you?" your fingers tracing the edge of a nasty cut on his arm were light and ticklish, preventing him from succumbing to his body’s injuries.

"keeps life interesting," he deflected, the ever-present grin faltering slightly. the truth was far uglier –  the shady deals to keep his family afloat, the constant fear of exposure, the ache of loneliness that even saving the day couldn't quite erase.

that night became the start of something. your apartment became a sanctuary for aventurine after every fight. you, with your warm smiles and soft voice, lulled him into unfamiliar safety. his visits were stolen moments of peace amidst the chaos that is his life. you mended wounds, offered quiet company, and never pried too deeply into the secrets lurking behind his laughter.

then came your birthday. classmates showered you with attention, with gifts overflowing your desk. aventurine waltzed in late and messed up as usual, yet he was always the very picture of nonchalance with a hint of mischief in his grin. “morning, doll,” was all he said before he slumped to his seat.

 a pang of something like disappointment needled at you. you thought…well, you weren't even sure what you expected. a greeting. that was all you wanted, but aventurine merely went on with his day, teasing you like usual. he wasn’t obligated to, of course. but his greeting was the only thing that would’ve mattered and make your day.

in a blink of an eye, night came.

you looked at the clock…midnight is creeping in, and no text or even a call from aventurine. you let out one last disappointed sigh before ultimately settling on the bed in your pajamas. then, your notifications blared, with it came a familiar tap at your window. "ready for a birthday adventure, princess?" his voice held a teasing lilt that sent a familiar shiver down your spine.

before you could reply, you were wrapped in his arms, the world tilting as he leapt skyward. wind whistled, laughter bubbled in your throat—he did remember! and for once, the city lights felt magical rather than lonesome. he landed atop a skyscraper with practiced ease, a dazzling grin still fixed on his face.

"happy birthday, doll." a flick of his wrist and the night sky erupted in color. fireworks painted fleeting constellations, just for you. spectacular, and yet… intimate.

"this is…" words seemed to vanish in the glittering night. 

"don't get too mushy on me, yeah?" he gave a cocky smirk, the teasing mask back in place, but you saw the faint flush to his cheeks, akin to embarrassment perhaps. aventurine, the boy who traded in bravado, who hid his vulnerability with extravagant gestures, had given you the most precious gift: a glimpse of kakavasha that aventurine so heavily guarded.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 !

[possessionisamyth]

Not to kick a dead horse, but there is a way to make Pier's death genuinely very loaded and tragic that fandom consensus just seems to continue to miss! I've never seen a take about Piers's death being about PIERS, but all about "ooohh chris lost a good one" and how the two are not able to fuck anymore. But I am going to free you from these shackles while I zero in on Chris' comment of

"I wanted him to replace me."

Surely Piers was being trained to take Chris' job ideally after a decent retirement party, but neither of them get that luxury because Edonia happens, and Chris is gone. The beloved captain has vanished, and the person who's supposed to take his job is right there, so they give it to him. It's Piers responsibility to not only be a face of what the BSAA represents, but also the heavy shackles of expectations are slapped onto him.

Everyone wants Chris, which means Piers can't be himself nor figure out how to run the same jobs his way. No, it has to be Chris' way. There's no time for anyone to adjust and shift gears either with the C-Virus outbreaks, the terrorist attacks from Ada*(Carla), and the search party he shambled together to locate the missing Redfield. So he tries his damnedest to fill Chris' shoes and suddenly realizes just how out of his depth he is. There were so many reasons people called Chris for certain tasks, even tasks Piers hadn't known about and definitely hadn't been trained on, that Piers never saw. There's no mentor to dial. No reference other than fellow soldiers saying things like, "We don't know how, he just got it done," which is the least helpful thing in the world. Hell, there's barely any notes to go through when he searches Chris' office for a semblance of a hint as to how he should do this job.

Maybe it turns out Chris was doing his best to gently ease that heavy mantle into Piers' hands. It's why his scheduled retirement seemed so far away at the time. Perhaps, after one comment too many where he'd been accidentally addressed by the name of his captain for the 50th time, Piers breaks. He can't do this. He's not ready for this. He needs the one person who did all this back by any means necessary, so he drops all the work and joins the search party. He verbally harasses an amnesiac Chris into coming back because maybe it isn't that bad. Maybe Chris just needs a reminder of what he's been doing everyday for literal years and things would be back to normal again.

But it's not. It's messier. It's uglier. This isn't the Chris he worked so hard to fight alongside. There are glimpses of him in there, but most of the time in China, Piers feels like he's working with a stranger. People die, and Chris keeps pushing forward no matter how much he's shouted at, and Piers feels like this is all his fault. The deaths are his fault because he couldn't buckle down and do what Chris originally wanted him to do. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him.

So when they go to that underwater facility, and their backs are against the wall, there's the looming sense of failure and a terrifying amount of pressure. If they get out of this alive, who knows when Chris would be back in shape to work again if that ever happens. Piers would have to be responsible. He was already responsible for the squad he gathered to take up this job, and they were skewed into pieces around downtown Lanshiang. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him, and Piers failed on all accounts. He couldn't get Chris back the way he was supposed to be. His squad was dead. The responsibility he'd have to take up if they made it out alive would be nigh unbearable, and then he gets infected.

He gets infected and suddenly the decision is so easy. To let go. To hope for the best. To be the one left behind when he was supposed to be the one moving towards the future. Another glimpse of the Chris that Piers knew is seen, a more confident glimpse wherein Chris does everything he can to try and save him. And Piers smiles when Chris fails. When he saves Chris. When he seems to finally do one thing right after things never seemed to stop falling apart.

It's the last thing Chris sees. That smile and the ever encroaching weight of immeasurable responsibility that'll grasp him tight as soon as he breaks the surface. The weight Piers couldn't take from him, and maybe never wanted in the first place.

[tearsaura]

Until the end and beyond // Bodhi Durran x reader

A/N: Based on this request. I tried my best, I hope you like it!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Angst, obvious Ironflame/ Fourth wing spoilers, possible grammar mistakes (it will be the death of me :()

Picture is from pinterest: torysacrux

Jealousy was an ugly feeling. But it became even uglier when it was over something so nonchalant.

--

Y/N knew the marked riders wouldn't be thrilled with her even before she signed up to become a rider. It would have been odd if they weren't at least a little biased towards her, considering she was King Tauri's niece.

She never resented them for their hostility towards her and was understanding. She would’ve probably hated herself too.

One morning though, she ran into Bodhi Durran. Verbatim. She had forgotten her books in her room and was racing back after breakfast to get to class on time when she bumped into Bodhi, his hand shooting out to keep her from falling.

Of course, she knew him before that, his beauty always mesmerizing her, and when he smiled, she melted.

From there, history wrote itself: they became friendly with each other, then friends, and by the end of their first year, they finally became a couple.

--

She couldn't force his friends to like her. However, it still hurt. They were Bodhi's family and although he was quick to shut down Imogen's or Xaden's snarky comments, he was powerless to do anything when he wasn’t there to witness them.

Violet's arrival didn't make things any better. Y/N knew the others were friendlier to Violet because Xaden's life depended on hers, but she couldn't suppress the jealousy: it was unbearable to see how easy they talked to her when her mother had done just as horrible things as her uncle had done. She envied Violet and felt terrible about it.

-----

''My muscles have been aching all day,'' Violet grumbled as she massaged her left arm. ''You should tell Imogen to ease up on the training.'' Rhiannon replied. The students, both riders and flyers, stood outside the house, all waiting for their respective professors.

She was in the second wing at Basgiath College, but since few of her wing had come with her to Aretia, they were spread out and she ended up in the fourth wing, at least that way she was always close to Bodhi.

However, she earned angry looks not solely by the marked ones now, but by the fliers too.

''You should look out for lavender and make an oil out of it. Rubbing Lavender oil on the sore muscles can help relieve the pain.'' Y/N said in a timid voice and gave her a shy smile.

,,Oh god! I completely forgot about that. Thanks!'' Y/N was about to say something back when Imogen approached them. She grabbed both Rhiannon and Violet and pulled them away by the arms. ''We have work to do''.

-----

That evening, she layed with Bodhi as usual, her head resting on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. He ran a hand through her hair and breathed kisses on her head consistently.

"How was your day, darling?" he whispered. ''Like any other, the best part of my day is when I'm with you.'' She replied, which made him grin. ''Coincidentally, that’s the best part of my day too.'' ''Hm…That is a weird coincidence.’’

He tickled her side and broke into a grin once again when he heard her giggle. He could be having the worst day of his life, but the sound of her laughter would make it a good one. ''Did my friends act like immature little children today?'' he finally asked, and Y/n shrugged. ''I didn't really see them today,'' she answered, and Bodhi nodded thoughtfully. He left it at that and decided for now not to call her out on her obvious lie.

--

The straw that broke the camels back came about two weeks later.

Y/N had just packed a lavender oil mixture in a small bottle and set off in search of Violet. Her feelings of guilt over the jealousy gnawed at her and she decided to help the girl. She spotted Violets distinctive brown and silver hair in the great hall, where she stood by Xaden, Imogen, Garrick and Bodhi. The latter smiled when he spotted her and held out his arm to her.

"There you are, my dear. I missed you.'' she grinned and let him pull her in his arms and he pressed a kiss to her temple. Y/N didn't miss Imogen's eyeroll ''What do you have there?'' ''Lavender oil. Violet? For your sore muscles.'' She said, holding out the small bottle to the younger girl. ''Oh, thank you! You're a savior-'' Before Viole could reach for the bottle, Xaden knocked it out of her hand.

"Xaden!" "What are you doing?" Bodhi and Violet both exclaimed at the same time, one angrier than the other. ''Don't trust her! Who knows what's in there!'' he hissed, and Y/N felt tears welling up in her eyes. They would never change their mind on her, no matter what she did, they would only see her as an enemy. Never an acquaintance and certainly not a friend. She disentangled herself from Bodhi's arms and gave him a forced smile. ''I'll see you later.'' she pressed another kiss to his cheek and with that, she left without waiting for a reply.

''She made me a lavender oil for my aching muscles! "And that doesn't seem strange to you? ''Why should it when I told her myself that I've been having problems lately?'' 'I've been telling you; you can't trust her!''

"What are you implying?" Bodhi interrupted him in a calm voice as he turned back to his cousin. ''You know what I think of her. So you know what I meant, too''

"Are you being serious right now?" Bodhi asked with a humourless laugh. 'I'm sick and tired of you treating her like this. She has never done anything to you and has always treated you with respect, even though none of you deserved it. You should know how shitty it is when people treat you badly because of your family. We all welcomed Violet with open arms when she was General Sorrengail's daughter and not Xaden's girlfriend, but you couldn't do the same for my girlfriend? I love that woman more than anything and I couldn't even protect her from you. I failed as a boyfriend in every way. It's a bloody miracle she didn't break up with me until now! And to be honest I would not blame her if she did: She has every right to,'' Bodhi's voice broke and he turned his head to the side. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of those assholes. Xaden paused, Imogen sought Bodhi's gaze, and Garrick stared at the floor. Guilt crept through all three of them, one more than the other. "Honestly I can’t stand to see any of you right now. I'm very disappointed in you guys.''

-----

Was she such a monster? Did they think she had so much hatred that she would deliberately poison someone?

Violet stood outside her room door shortly after the incident and begged her to let her in, apologizing repeatedly, but Y/N pretended not to hear her. Violet had given up and shortly after that, Bodhi arrived, whom she also left standing there.

The embarrassment was running too deep, and the thought that she had put Bodhi in such an awkward situation with his family time and time again made her sick.

Bodhi, being the understanding and wonderful person he was, left too, understanding that she needed to be alone.

When the knock came for the third time, hours later, Y/N was still holding the pillow to her face to stifle her sobs.

"I know you're in there, open up, I want to talk to you." Y/N froze when she recognized Imogen's voice. She still hesitated and swore she heard a sigh from the other side of the door.

''I'm not here to insult you any more than I’ve already done. I'll be nice, I promise.'' Y/N thought about it for a moment, but then decided to go for it. What else did she have to lose that she hadn't already gambled away?

Without worrying about her swollen eyes and red nose, she pulled open the door and stared at Imogen. "Are you going to let me in?’’ she wordlessly stepped aside and gestured for her to come in and closed the door.

Y/N sat back on her bed and looked at Imogen expectantly. The pink-haired rider sat down next to her.

"No matter what I say, it won't make up for the way we've treated you for the past two years, but I'll say it anyway: I'm sorry." She said, looking at Y/N. Even though she would never admit it to anyone, her heart broke at the sight of her shaken form.

''Why the change of heart?"

"Realization. We made Bodhi's life difficult; we made it difficult for you and that only because you guys fell in love. It's no excuse but pretty much all the rest of us follow Xaden's way of thinking. We owe everything to him, and his intuition has rarely let him down. If he sees an enemy in someone, it's usually true.''

'Not all of you follow his way of thinking,' Y/N replied, glancing at Imogen, who gave her a sad smile.

''Liam was a great exception in every way possible. None of us will ever live up to him.''

''I expected even before I started at the quadrant that we wouldn't necessarily be the best of friends. I totally understood where you guys were coming from, but it's one thing to avoid a stranger and another to make your best friend's life a living hell because he fell in love with the wrong person. I don't care how you treated me, but I will never forget what you did to Bodhi. Just as I will never forgive myself for being the cause of his suffering.'' Fresh tears sprang to her eyes and Imogen placed a hesitant hand on hers.

I have never seen Bodhi as happy as he is with you. We all have a long way to go to make it up to you. I'm not good at this emotional stuff, but I want the people who are important to me to survive. And you are now one of those people, which is why I'm expecting you for training tomorrow morning before breakfast. You can never work enough on your fitness and physical strength.'' ''Only if I can give you a crash course on medicinal and toxic plants afterward. I don't want a repeat of the lavender oil incident.'' Y/N countered, and Imogen snorted out a laugh. ''No, you should be bland I can’t actually start to like you! Otherwise, I'll feel even worse than I already do.''

''You're forgiven. I want to put this behind me and concentrate on what's in front of us. My only condition for my forgiveness is that you apologize to Bodhi, too.''

''First thing in the morning-'' Imogen was interrupted by a knock on the door. The girls both looked at each other puzzled, and Y/N went quietly to open the door, only to reveal Bodhi standing behind it. His hair was tousled, he was already in his pyjamas and he had a hopeful look on his face.

"Can we talk? '' ''Yes, yes of course come in.'' When Bodhi stepped into the room and caught sight of Imogen, he raised his eyebrows prompting.

''I came with a white flag and will leave you two alone. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Imogen asked, heading for the door. ''Well-rested and ready to go. Have Good night.'' ''You too.'' With that, she left, and Bodhi and Y/N were alone in the room. He turned to his girlfriend curiously: ''What was this about?''

''She asked for forgiveness.'' Bodhi couldn't help the grin that spread across his face and Y/N swore she was falling in love all over again.

"Really?" she nodded and swallowed.

''Bodhi, I'm sorry I didn't open the door for you earlier...'' ''Hey, it's all right, you don't have to apologize. You needed time for yourself, and I totally understand that. If anyone must apologize, it's me.''

''Bodhi-''

"I love you and I can see what their behaviour did to you, and I should have done much more about it. I should have stood up for you more. I failed and I am so incredibly sorry...''

'Bodhi, I would never blame you for that. Don't say that you can't even think that, I love you. I'm sorry that our relationship has put you in such a position with your friends in the first place.'' She murmured and Bodhi closed the distance between them with two steps, taking her face in both hands.

'I've never had doubts about our relationship. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and ever will. I thank every god that there is and heaven for you and not a day goes by that my love for you doesn't grow. I want to spend my life with you and never be a day without you.''

''I don't want that either.''

''Good, because I'll be yours for as long as you want me.''

''I want you until the end and beyond that.''

'Until the end and beyond it is then.''

[seancekitsch]

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Five

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

My nearly found Unfamiliar,

I feel I should be offended by this hasty scrawl of a message, yet I am just happy to hold your parchment once more. If your letter shall be brief, mine will be too. Even after we meet, I think I might like to keep these letters going. They are invigorating in ways I never expected. I am confident I will find you, as even if my guesses are incorrect I plan on not giving up until I find you and dance an almain with you. 

You are devious and wicked in the ways that you tease me! But I am smart, I will find you. I will look for rubies and I will speak our word and then… It is up to you. I trust that even finding you will make me the happiest man in the seven kingdoms, and I will put the future in your hands. 

Soon Yours,

Your Unfamiliar

Excitement surges through you as you hold the letter to you, girlish and giddy. Each time you read the note it feels as if fate is knocking at your chamber doors instead of the serving girls or Alicent calling upon you. He feels so close, so near. You never took yourself for such a sentimental woman, but this letter gets placed with all the others, in a beautifully embossed portfolio for parchment. You agree with his letter, that you want to keep this practice going even after you find one another. It will be a lovely day when you can fill this portfolio, or years down the line you can read them from the beginning. You can imagine laughing with him about your eagerness to meet and the way the two of you were bold and promiscuous. You picture yourself, wrinkled smile in the candlelight as you point out how you were thinking during these letters, his auburn hair turning grey and -

No! Not auburn. You shudder as you banish the thought from your head. Thats more than enough fantasy for today. 

You wind the leather strap around the button fastening closed the portfolio and set it aside, knowing there is much to plan. 

You fuss in front of the looking glass, certain the hour was growing short and you would be sent for soon for the feast. Your hair had been up, to the side, plaited, and pinned. You’ve decided to settle on pulling it off of your face, letting the rest of it cascade down with little adornment besides a comb dazzled with rubies. That was the pin in all of this. Dress color did not matter, though you wore a deep wine red dress that made your body look divine, as long as rubies accompanied you. Rubies were how your Unfamiliar would know you, rubies were the color of passion. If blue for loyalty was to be making trend in the court, you shall buck the system with your own symbolic color.

This is the best it will get, you think, not unconvinced of your looks but moreso knowing that fiddling with it any further will make ruin of it.

“I should have expected you would be my seat mate,” Gwayne quips, wine goblet already in hand and seated at the long table upon the newly dubbed “Green Council” side. You suppose court may only get uglier from here, and Alicent’s letter writing plan was a beacon in the dark much like the light of the high tower itself.

“We are the queen’s favorite people,” you reply, smoothing and adjusting the skirts of your dress to sit comfortably.

“Although we may be each other’s least favorite,” he jokes, and you raise your own wine goblet to clink your rim against his.

“I will agree to that.”

“You look lovely.”

“I- Thank you, Ser Gwayne.”

He drinks from his goblet and turns his attention back to the festivities, the great hall already buzzing with people talking and enjoying their food as the royal family and their parties all enter. Sure enough, you see more couples now than you had at the last feast, a testament to letter writings success. The troupe in the corner plays quietly, calm music that does not dare drown out the droning of conversation.

“Are you going to miss him?” Gwayne speaks up.

“Who?”

“Daeron.”

“Oh my littlest dragon!” you exclaim, “Yes I suppose I’ll miss him quite terribly.”

You lean over to him slightly.

“Do not tell the other little princelings or princess, but my wish was to spoil Daeron rotten.”

Gwayne chuckles at that. The eldest of the royal children have their own table, but Daeron is still at Alicent’s side. The elder three, as you can already see, are causing a ruckus. With Aegon ranting about…. something, Helaena holding up… another something you don’t wish to identify, and Aemond glaring up at the adult’s table.

“Your secret is safe with me,” He says, adding, “But if you wish to send him letters with his mother’s I will read them all the same.”

“You are being suspiciously kind to me, Ser Gwayne.”

The knight only shrugs.

“Tis a feast that followed a tourney. I am in good spirits.”

“Perhaps if you continue being so kind, I will greet you with less venom the next time you arrive.”

“Oh come now, My Lady, venom is our thing. Do not go soft on me.”

You laugh, genuinely, and from the corner of your eye you can see Alicent down the other side of the table looking at you as if you’ve lost your mind.

The rest of dinner is hardly touched, instead conversation and wine flow more freely, though jabs are still to be had.

“Would you care to dance?” Gwayne asks as he pushes his chair away from the large table. 

Oddly, you do not find yourself balking at the idea. Gwayne has been kind, enjoyable even tonight so far. What is one dance? I could not hurt as a way to get yourself onto the dance floor. You do have an Almain tonight you do not want to miss. 

“I do like dancing,” you admit as you hold out your hand for him. Gwayne takes your hand gently and guides you to stand. The song playing is slow, a little intimate for this point in the night, but you trust the royal musicians, they understand the mood of the room. Gwayne spins you the moment your feet touch the dance floor, a flourishing display of your skirts to show you off to the entire room before he brings you into his hold. One warm hand finds its way to your bodice, and the other stays clasped to yours. He moves with grace, each step carefully rehearsed yet feeling earnest and natural. 

“How are you enjoying the evening?” he asks, smiling easily as his eyes find yours.

“It’s lovely! A blessing on this new little princeling, and a fun night for people of little consequence such as ourselves,” you exclaim, your free hand finding his shoulder, fingertips brushing the velvet of his tunic. It’s fitting, you think, for Gwayne to wear rich velvets despite being a knight. He is a son of maybe the richest house in all the kingdoms besides the crown itself, and much more educated and trained than your average knight even for a noble house. It suits him as a fabric, rich and bold. But most importantly, it is soft and gentle under your hands.

“I must agree with you, I find myself having more fun than I’ve had in ages,” Gwyane says, and punctuates it with another twirl around. He’s bringing you towards the center of the dance floor, where already most of the court have congregated. Skirts flutter and men’s chains of silver and gold glitter in the light. 

The dance is quick, a swirling and complicated thing, and Gwayne guides you through it near perfectly. 

And then the dance ends with the song, and Gwayne’s hold on you loosens but does not completely leave you. Something odd hangs in the air, like a word unspoken or a shift of the weather. You find yourself not wanting to stray far from Gwayne Hightower.

“Another dance?” you ask.

“And here I thought you could not stand me.”

“I can overlook that because you are better at dancing than I expected.”

“As you wish, My Lady.”

And with that he pulls you closer in his grasp again, and as the next song begins he pulls you along the floor. 

“How are your letters going? I would have thought you would have had your lady here and courting by now,” you bring up the letters, the only topic thats ever burning on your mind, yet Gwayne feels like the one person it is not a secret to discuss with. 

“It troubles me!” he admits, a laugh coming freely as he speaks, “I wish to know her! I wish to marry her. She is so incredible, so smart and full of humor. I know that I will be smitten when I see her. If she were to reject me, I would be bereft.”

His words are nothing short of a serious declaration of his intentions. You must admit, it’s moving to see Gwayne Hightower this passionate. It’s a level of sincerity and passion you did not expect him to have outside of a training yard or tourney. 

“Then I do hope she is just as smitten,” your lips turn upwards, but not in a smirk like it usually is around Gwayne, “For I fear for what would happen if you were in a sour mood.”

Gwayne laughs, a loud and boisterous sound that makes little lines crinkle at the sides of his eyes and make each of his teeth glimmer under the light of the chandeliers. 

“And you?” he asks, something teasing (though toothy, not biting) in his smile, “What are your true feelings on this letter business, now that you know mine?”

“I must admit, your sister’s little scheme with these letters is maddening,” you smile as you say it, “I mean, I’m even wearing every ruby I own because a week ago a promised a man I don’t even know that I would give him some kind of sign!”

Your voice is more exasperated than you intend for it to sound, the wine from dinner easing you. Your hand on Gwayne’s shoulder flexes and then relaxes again, not quite a squeeze, but not nothing. His velvet tunic is soft under your fingertips, lovely and lush. His eyes seem to widen at your admission, and the expression confuses you. It would be odd for him to be surprised at this point, as he knows for weeks this has troubled you. Your hand slips from his shoulder as you step back, your arm making a sweeping motion as you dip backward before coming back to his arms. 

“I- I am surprised you have not found him yet,” he stutters, an unusual thing for Gwayne, usually so sure and even tempered. To hear him stutter is to watch him be knocked in a tilt; concerning and betraying of something wrong beneath the surface. It unnerves you. 

“And why is that, Ser Gwayne?” The way you speak is teasing, playfully rather than full of barbs. He sighs deeply, and looks at you. Really looks at you. Not his teasing glances that irk you, not his hungered gaze upon your legs, not a scowl. Gwayne looks upon you as if it is your first meeting, searching your face for signs of something. Perhaps he is, perhaps this is Gwayne seeing you for more than a shrill shrew at his sister’s side. Maybe this is him seeing you as something other than a game, a skirt to tease and bother at any time. Even more, maybe this means that he would welcome you at Oldtown if you were to visit Daeron. 

“I would think someone as headstrong and intelligent as you would have found your writer by now,” Gwayne explains, a smile returning to his face, “I know you would not give up until you were having clandestine rendezvous in scarce used parts of the Keep.”

You blink. No, certainly you didn’t hear him correctly? The music is much too loud. 

“What was that, you said?”

Gwayne falters as your smile fades.

“That- That you would be having clandestine rendezvous with your writer?”

“You,” the word escapes you, “Unfamiliar.”

Gwayne’s lips tug upward at the corner, a weaker smile this time. 

Your Unfamiliar, your traveled unfamiliar, your dearest unfamiliar, your now found unfamiliar. It cannot be. Gwayne, the one with the pen. Gwayne, who boasts of his exploits with women; Gwayne, your champion who weaved you a crown; Gwayne, who angers you to the point of screaming. No, it could not be him that writes you in promise of travel, a life of adventure. He cannot be the one who writes you so genuinely, so freely and so sensitively. It is a trick, you think, he must be tricking you. Some form of humiliation on your end through this scheme.

Your hands slip from him, and infuriatingly chaste he lets you step away. 

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head as if that will erase the knowledge, “Not you.”

“Why not me?” he asks, and something heavy settles in your chest. 

“You mock me! Have you known the whole time?” you scoff, stepping back even further, “Love and Beauty? Ha!”

Your lips tighten into a quivering line, threatening to betray you further. 

“I only discovered you tonight,” he says.

“I do not believe you,” you tell him, and you turn on your heel. Luckily, there is a corridor at the wall near the edge of the dance floor, and with haste you will be back in your chambers and you may forget all of this. 

“Wait! Must you go?” Gwayne calls, loud enough to hear you. Heads turn, and your face burns even more. You turn back around to see him, to see a knight with his face creased with an emotion you do not recognize. 

“I cannot-“ you shake your head, “It cannot be you.”

With that, you turn, and run. Once again, you put distance between yourself and Gwayne Hightower. It cannot be him. He cannot be the one who angers you daily, yet writes you so sweetly with honeyed words. Gwayne Hightower cannot be your Unfamiliar.

You do not stop until you reach your chambers, slamming the door shut behind you. You all but tear off your rubies, your pretty dress, feeling tainted now. Once again, you have dressed for nothing. Once you are bare you throw yourself onto you bed, a dreamless sleep 

His most recent letter will go without response. 

[itoshiexx]

scraps

synopsis: you give him all you have. it's time to collect the scraps before there is nothing left.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 797 | warnings: established relationship, angst

notes: do u guys remember the sae drabble i told y'all about some time ago? well, my depressive ass decided to post it now. i'm sorry in advance.

masterlist

the silence is deafening. it lingers thick and heavy in the air, nearly making you choke on nothing — or perhaps you’re choking on all the things you want to say that are stuck in your throat. you can feel your whole body trembling as the anxiety creeps further in, and you wrap your arms around yourself to try and bring some comfort. 

before, it was someone else’s arms that gave you peace, but lately, it has only been torment. 

it is why you’re standing in the living room of your shared apartment, staring at the teal eyes of itoshi sae while trying to hold back your own tears. it hurts. it hurts to look at him and remember the way he used one of your weaknesses against you in the argument you had minutes before, as if stabbing a wound that didn’t quite close properly, tearing the skin at the seams and turning it into a bigger, uglier, messier scar. 

you feel violated. 

perhaps you should have known better. maybe, if you listened to your mother, you wouldn’t have shown so much of yourself to sae, basking in a vulnerability that could only come back to bite you in the end. you gave him all the tools to hurt you where it stings most, and there was no one to blame but yourself for that. 

love made you foolish. you were tired. 

“i don’t think i can do this anymore, sae.” your voice is meek and hollow. only a shell of the person you used to be — the one that bled through its heart until all the life was drained. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, brow arched. defensive. ready to hurt you some more in case he became slightly uncomfortable. 

you breathe. in and out. in and out. rubbing your arm with your own hand, whispering to yourself under your breath that everything was going to be alright. even if it felt like nothing but that. 

“you… you’re hurting me, sae,” you manage to say with the lump in your throat. “you have been for a while. and i try to be better, but i… i can’t do this alone. and you’re not even trying.”

the tears welled up in your lash line start to fall again, and at this point, you know it’s useless to try and stop them. you also know they are the only thing that keep you sane, even if it feels like you’re losing your mind at every breath you take. 

sae doesn’t say anything, and you actually consider that a blessing. you don’t know how much more of his venomous words you can take before it destroys you completely from the inside out. something tells you his toxin has been spreading through your body for a while, although you only started to notice recently, when the fights got worse.

how long has he been killing you?

the weight of this question is enough to spike your anxiety once again, and you dig your nails on the skin of your arms to try to detain these overwhelming feelings, squeezing your eyes shut.

you nearly jump when you feel his strong arms circling your shoulders, bringing your head to his chest. you squirm and try to fight it — fight him —, but sae is stronger and more stubborn than you could ever be, and all you can do is cry harder and blow weak punches to his torso. 

“i’m sorry,” he says. it’s not the first time. the words make your stupid heart flutter with hope, but the hurt brings you back to reality. it’s not the first time, and he has done nothing to change for the better. he never fucking listens.

“you’re so mean,” you cry, ceasing the punches due to your lack of strength. you can barely keep standing, and you’re sure that his hold is the only thing keeping you from falling. “why are you so mean to me, sae?”

he’s silent again. you keep going. “i gave you my everything. i loved you with all i had. i-i opened up to you like never before, and you… you just…”

your stomach sinks. there aren’t even words to express what you’re feeling nor what he’s doing to you — the many ways he has been destroying what you spent years trying to put back together.

you were tired. 

in a final attempt to save what’s left of you, you raise your head from his chest to look deep into his aquamarine eyes. you want him to look at yours, too. 

“sae,” your voice is nothing more than a hollow whisper. you take a deep breath, garning all the strength and courage you can.

and then, you plea for the last time:

“please, give back what’s left of my heart.”

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[venerawrites]

I see Sasuke content I immediately follow🫡

I'm here to ask for childhood "friends" (more like frenemies) where they first met while he was still under Orochimaru (the reader being one of the many experiments Orochimaru just keeps for the sake of having but never actually uses so she's just hanging around the place without anywhere else to go).

The reader being the type that's not intimidated and likes to bother him, especially he's the only one around that's close to her age that's not batshit insane, in response to his snappy silly emo attitude? ofc growing up together in that place and some thoughts after they mature/like a time skip? if it takes a romantic turn or not it's up to you I'll like it either way :3 thanks a bunch! - a fellow Sasuke enthusiastic

author's note: that request is so sweet! I loved doing it and I hope you like it as well. I decided to do a friendly/platonic fluff since recently I wrote a lot of Sasuke romance, haha. Also, I saw "she" in the request, so I am rolling with a fem! reader. Thank you so much for sending your idea and I hope you enjoy! <3

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Go away."

Furrowing your brows, you tiptoed behind his seated figure, before setting your chin on his shoulder as you watched his rough fingers engraving kanjis on the blade of his sword. You studied the written symbols with interest, recognising the words "power", "revenge" and "justice". Due to the reflection of the candle next to you, you couldn't make the whole text of what he was writing, but what you saw was more than enough for you to form your opinion.

"You just made your weapon twice as uglier."

Sasuke sighed at your comment, closing his eyes as he tried to summon all the patience he had within. One could presume that he should be used to someone bothering him, given that during all the years he has been alive there has always been someone who tastes his patience.

First, there were the fangirls. Not dangerous, but really annoying and suffocating. Through the years the young Uchiha had to hide in the weirdest places, such as bushes, bins and even stacks of hays, just so he can avoid confrontation with them.

Then, there were Naruto and Sakura. Both of them equally bothersome and both of them people, who couldn't really avoid no matter how hard he tried. There has been more than one occasion during which he cursed the day he got paired with them in a team. To this day, he couldn't get rid of them, as they persistently followed him around despite him making it more than clear he does not want to go back to Konoha.

But him leaving did not bring him peace. Because now instead of the blonde idiot and the pink-haired weakling, he had to deal with Orochimaru and Karin breathing down his neck all the damn time. The girl did not bother him that much anymore - with time he learned to ignore her, zoning out every time she opened her mouth.

The snake-like ninja, however, was entirely different matter. Sasuke felt his eyes on the back of his head all the time, studying him, his movements, his behaviour. The Uchiha was nothing more than an experiment for him and he realised that. But he needed the power and the knowledge to defeat Itachi, and if having to deal with a creep was the price to p

"Honestly, who is going to read all that? Is your plan to bore your enemies to death or something?", your curious tone brought him back to reality and his fingers gently slapped yours as he saw the reaching for the blade. A small gasp left your lips and you retracted your hand, directing a small glare in his direction.

And then, on the top of the list of people who love to get in his space, was YOU.

You and him had an interesting... relationship. You were one of the many experiment subjects Orochimaru kept in the base after the conducting of his clinical trials. As part of the famous "Project 71" - a year long experiment during which the man tested the effects of different drugs on the system and the long-lasting results from daily usage. Many have lost their lives and while the snake-like ninja discontinued it years ago, he left the few remaining alive subjects inside the base.

Initially it was a mystery for Sasuke why you were chosen to be part of the experiment in the first place. You were not a ninja or a healer, you didn't seem to have any extraordinary knowledge or skills, and also came from a poor farming family from the outskirts of Suna.

"Do not underestimate the power of the ordinary civilians, especially the ones coming from the desert", said Orochimaru one day when he saw the young Uchiha watching you and the other subjects being examined by Kabuto, "They are capable of adapting to changes in a way even the most well-trained shinobi can't. Perhaps the strongest people are not forged by war of battles, but of the harshness of life itself."

His theory seemed to hold true. From all of the surviving subjects, the majority were ordinary people from Suna or nearby small villages. For 'people of science', like Orochimaru preferred to call himself and Kabuto, it was expected, yet exciting result. For Sasuke, however, it was another confirmation he needs to get out of here as soon as he reaches his full potential. And while he tried to stay away, it was YOU who found your way toward him.

The first time you saw him was the day of his arrival - a snobby and gloomy boy, who liked to produce noises of disapproval or disgust rather than use words to voice his feelings. Straight away you didn't like him - this place was full of freaks and a sad boy with a vendetta was no different in your list. However, the more time passed, the more you realised that his company is indeed not that bad.

For starters, he rarely talked. Sasuke liked to mind his own business and you could often see him going to train by himself or sneak out in the middle of the night. Where he was going, you didn't know. The one time you tried to follow him, you ended pressed against one of the cave's walls with his fingers tightly wrapped around your throat.

"If you value your life, stay away from me."

His words that night went through one ear and out of the other. Did you value a life in captivity, waking up every single day in fear if you are going to be experimented on again? Not really.

So despite your initial reluctance, the mystery around Sasuke Uchiha was drawing you like a moth to a flame. You knew his goal was to get stronger so he can kill his brother, but nothing else. Where were his friends? What was he planning to do after he killed Itachi Uchiha? Was he going to ever go back to Konoha?

You often voiced your thoughts and questions out loud, the majority of which he ignored. And while he didn't seem enthusiastic to engage in a conversation with you, he never turned you away, like he did to Karin or Kabuto, so you took this as a sign that you weren't entirely insufferable in his eyes. Probably sounded like a poor excuse, but in a place like this, being tolerated was the closest thing you could get to a 'friendship'.

And you desperately needed one. You needed human interactions without the fear the other person is holding a needle behind their back.

Surprisingly, even for himself, Sasuke also found solace in your presence. Even though you spoke a lot, you never crossed certain boundaries and you didn't pry into his past. Your chatter was mainly focused either on how bored you were or on trivial things, like the weather or Orochimaru's work. And while the young Uchiha rarely 'participated' in what was supposed to be a dialogue, there was a certain comfort in having someone around you who is not a ninja and keep things light. With you, he could allow himself to partially lower his guard and rest, away from the haunting thoughts of gaining power and getting his revenge.

"Anyway, I am bored", your voice brought him back to reality as you plopped yourself on his bed, while he continued engraving his sword.

"Not my problem."

A loud groaned escaped your lips as you laid back and started at the ceiling. Your eyes followed the few cracks which moved toward the wall, forming irregular patterns that reminded you of lighting bolts. Well, it seems even the protege Sasuke Uchiha is not special enough to get a proper place to sleep, which is not crumbling. Of course, his bedroom was way better and bigger than the tiny space you and all other experiments shared, but it was still surprising to see that great ninjas do not live in 'luxury' either.

There was a brief moment of silence during which Sasuke stopped working on his blade, before throwing a bored look your way.

"Why don't you go and bother someone else?"

You opened your eyes only so you can roll them at him, before letting out another groan. It was always the same thing with Sasuke - you would go and bug him, he would pretend he didn't like it and ask you to leave, but you both knew he didn't mean it so you wouldn't. It was a routine at this point, one which you were not sure if you could or even wanted to break.

"There is NO ONE else to bother", you say as a matter-of-factly, while lifting yourself on your elbows, "What are you writing anyway? Seems like a whole novel at this point."

Sasuke's hand paused and he closed his eyes, while taking a deep breath. He counted to five, before opening them again and focusing on his weapon again.

"It's not a novel and it's none of your business."

He heard the bed squeak under your weight before you flopped on your belly and rested your head on your palms, while facing his back.

"You are pretty boring for a friend, you know?", you hummed under your breath while kicking your feet back and forth in the air.

"We are not friends."

Instead of being insulted, his words made you grin.

"No need to be shy now", you chuckled, tilting your head, "We spend most of our time together, we talk... Well, I talk mainly. But you listen, so we are friends."

Sasuke finally stopped his works on his blade, only so he can turn toward you and look at you with a blank expression.

"We spend time together because you would not stop bothering me", he points out, before his eyes focused on your kicking legs falling back to the bed, "And do not get on my bed with your shoes on!"

You glanced at your feet, before turning your attention back to him and letting out a dramatic huff. Mumbling some incoherent things under your breath you reached for your sandals and untied the laces, before kicking them off your feet. Moving your gaze back to him, you raised a brow as if asking 'happy now?' to which he just let out a small 'hm' before turning his back toward you again.

"Do you want me to stop bothering you?"

Sasuke didn't acknowledge you or your question in any way, but at this point you knew him well enough to know the answer is 'no'. Even when he liked to act all grumpy and annoyed, you knew he didn't talk with anyone else in the base despite the attempts of other to strike a conversation to him. In a way that made you feel only special - sure, he was not super nice to you, but at least he never pushed you away or insulted you, like he did to everyone else.

Time passed and you stayed silent, feeling you may start to push his boundaries if you continued with your questioning. So you just laid there, humming a quiet tune under your breath, while your fingers gently followed the crinkles on his bedsheet. Finally, after what felt forever, Sasuke turned toward you and lifted the sword against his chest, his eyes carefully examining the result of his work. His dark eyes moved toward yours and he moved the weapon closer to you, so you can take a look yourself. You frowned, your attention dancing between his sword and his face, full with expectation. "What I am supposed to look at exactly?"

He scoffed, a sign he was starting to get annoyed, as he cleared his throat and pushed the blade closer to your face. You instinctively flinched back, confusion written all over your face. What was he expecting from you? A compliment? An approval? A commentary on his neat handwriting?

"Take it", he commanded impatiently and you did, your finger brushing against the words written on the metal. You could see the all of the words now, written from the tip all the way down to the hilt: "strength", "power", "persistence", "patience", "revenge" and finally "justice". Your thumb stopped on the last word, gently following each line of the word, before you abruptly pulled away and almost threw the sword back in his lap. His dark brow arched upwards as he caught it mid-air, his tongue clicking in annoyance.

"You could've handed it to me, instead of throwing it."

"Sorry", you muttered, yet there was no real regret in your tone. Sasuke continued to eye you with expectation and you met his dark gaze, determined not to cave under the pressure of his heavy silence. But the Uchiha had this invisible power about him, the one that made everyone else bow to his will, and after a few minutes you couldn't hold your ground anymore

"What?", you snapped, your patience wearing thin, "Do you want me to compliment your calligraphy skills?"

Sasuke clicked his tongue again, his eyes narrowing just the slightest as he continued to study your face. You were a smart woman - probably the smartest one here - despite not being a ninja. One of the things he always appreciated about you was the fact you often read his thoughts and feelings without the need for him to say them out loud. As someone who was not great with words, he often found this ability of yours comforting.

But now was not one of these moments.

Were you really not understanding what he wanted from you or were you just trying to mess with him?

"Do not play stupid! It doesn't suit you."

With these words he turned his back toward you again, before he started wiping the cold metal with a wet cloth. You stared at his back for a few seconds, before letting out a tired sigh.

"I just...", the words died in your throat, as you licked your lips while trying to formulate your thoughts in such a way so it doesn't offend him, "I don't really understand why you would do that to your weapon. We ALL know your whole existence is to find your brother and avenge your clan, and yada-yada-"

"They are not just random words", Sasuke interrupts you, his tone sharp. His glanced at you with the corners of his eyes and you immediately straightened up, not expecting him to take your words so seriously. Sure, he often gave grunts or eye-rolls as a response to your questions, but now something felt off. Almost, as if you somehow insulted him.

"Okay", you say slowly, moving toward the end of the bed, "What are they then?”

The Uchiha gently placed the weapon back on his desk, before turning fully toward you. His dark eyes bore into yours as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"They are reminders", he says slowly, his fist clenching and unclenching as he moved his attention to his hands, "Of who I am... Of what I am fighting for."

You couldn't help but let out a loud snort, making him immediately look back at you with narrowed eyes. He should've expected that. For all the time he knew you, you often showed interesting and, sometimes, inappropriate reactions during serious situations. Were you always like that or did the drugs Orochimaru has put in you in the past somehow altered your brain chemistry, he didn't know, but he found it both irritating and somehow intriguing.

"What's so funny?", he asked flatly, crossing his arms before his chest.

Covering your mouth with your hand, you tried to stifle your laugh before your cleared your throat. Was it a smart idea to laugh at the second most powerful ninja here, after Orochimaru? Probably not, especially when you did it to his face. But Sasuke was Sasuke and you could not always take him seriously.

Not when he was taking himself SO seriously all the damn time.

"Reminders? Why, are you afraid you may forget your life goal or something? I thought you knew what you wanted pretty well by now."

With a roll of his eyes, he lifted one hand and flicked you against your forehead. You immediately winced and rubbed the sore spot, but your expression softened as you saw the edges of his mouth twitching just the slightest upward. "Idiot."

Without saying anything more he turned around, continuing his work on cleaning his sword. Once his back was facing you, you allowed the small grin that you've been holding back stretch across your lips. You stood up from the bed, making a few steps toward his seated figure before resting your head on his right shoulder.

"If that is going to make you feel better", you started, your eyes focused on the work his hands were doing, "I think your handwriting is pretty. If I was a terrorist or whatever type of people you kill in your free time, I would totally feel honoured to be killed by such a beautiful sword with such inspirational words written on it and-"

Before you can finish, he flicked your forehead once again, before moving his shoulder back and forth to get you off him.

"You seriously need to find a new hobby", he stated, not even looking at you, "Other than annoying me."

A playful laugh left your lips and his expression softened. As you were thinking of a smart comeback, he reached forward the bottom drawer of his desk before getting a small bundle of books, tied together with a red string. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched him hand them to you.

"What's this?", you asked unsure if you should take them or not.

"Books."

Sasuke turned his head to look at you while pushing the bundle closer to you.

"I can see that", you gave him a deadpan look, "But why are you giving them to me?"

Your question seemed to irritate him once again and he clicked his tongue, his head tilting to the side. You never seemed to stop asking questions, even when the answers were ovious.

"Because they are for you", he said before moving his eyes back to his desk. He felt your fingers brushing against his as you took the bundle from him, carefully untying the red string before you let out a small gasp.

In you hands were the first three tomes of "Handbook of the Trinket Maker". You saw one of the books in Kabuto's library once during one of your routine blood tests and the same evening you mentioned it to Sasuke, saying how you wished you could make something. As you were taken quite young by Orochimaru and the subjects here were not allowed access to the library room, you lacked both the knowledge and the skill of what is usually expected of someone your age. You learned a lot - sometimes by watching some of the ninjas train or going though Sasuke's notes - but it was not near as much as you wished to be.

But since that one time you have not mentioned it and you definitely did not expect for the Uchiha to remember and get you your own brand new books.

"Thank you... I..", you pressed the books against your chest, while looking down at him, "But why?"

Sasuke remained focused on his weapon, through his shoulders seemed more rigid than before.

"You said you wanted to learn. Hopefully it actually makes you find a new hobby", he grumbled under his breath, giving a last wipe of his blade, before putting it in its scabbard. You bit your tongue in order to hold back another smart comment, realising it must be way more awkward for him than for you. Sasuke Uchiha was not a man who did kind gestures and while his motivation did raise a question mark in your head, you decided not to question it.

With a soft smile, you landed a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it.

"Thank you", you said again, a warm feeling forming inside your chest. He hummed in response, before turning toward you and giving you one of his rare smirks.

"Just make sure you don't blow up the hideout", he said as he stood up, his body towering over yours. You rolled your eyes, but you could not stop the loud laugh leaving your mouth.

"No promises", you shrugged your shoulders as you started to walk backward toward the door. Once your hand was on the handle, your gave him one last look, your lips stretched in a grin.

"I will make sure to show you what I learned first thing tomorrow", you puffed your chest, the excitement of your new possessions and the opportunity to finally be able to do something buzzing inside your chest.

Sasuke only stared blankly at you, his usual stone faced mask back on.

"No need-"

"Yeah, yeah", it was your time to interrupt him now by waiving your hand in the air while you pushed the door open with your foot, "See you tomorrow, Sasuke! And don't forget... revenge, life, power... Uh... And whatever the rest of the words you need to remember are."

"Get out."

As you slipped out of the room, you gave him one last wink watching him shake his head at your antics. The door clicked shut and you hurried back to the subjects' room, your hands trembling with excitement that you finally had something yours. Something that can finally give your existence a meaning other than mindlessly walking around Orochimaru's base while waiting for the day he is going to get bored of you.

Once you were in the room, you hurried toward your bed before plopping on it and impatiently flipping open the first page. Your eyes immediately landed on detailed instructions and illustrations of various trinkets and even some weapons.

"Oh, I am totally going to blow this place up!"

cc artwork: Tobi Yong

[reiden]

i wanna hold the hand inside you | r.itoshi

You think of Itoshi Rin, your first love, often; the one who never was and the one who got away. Unexpectedly, you find yourself reuniting with the boy you once knew right in front of your apartment.

cw: f!reader, reader has a habit of skin-picking, soft angst w/ happy ending, suggestive, slight hand obsession?

— ✦

You always feel uglier after you pick at your skin. Which defeats the purpose because you do it to rid yourself of an imperfection you've stumbled upon. And yet, after all is said and done and the skin has grown irritated, all you can think about is how you've only gotten uglier.

You used to pick at your face, scratching at any bumps or texture you spot in the mirror, but you've gotten better about it now. You've stopped doing it on your face altogether. It was one too many people who thought they were close enough with you to inadvertently call you ugly. You're pretty sure the first to do it had been Itoshi Sae, your neighbour two houses down. Back then, when you were only eight, you hadn't cared that he thought your habit was unbecoming. It didn't matter what Sae thought — you had Rin.

One day, you realised you didn't really have Rin either.

Since then, you've moved onto your hands.

Your face is the important part, no one ever really looks at hands. You might think about it if you were to give a handshake, but when you think of that person from memory later that day, you'll think of their face. As long as your face is left alone, it doesn't matter what happens to the skin around your nails.

But you like looking at hands. They reveal so much about someone. Whether or not they clean their nails, if they paint them, if their hands are soft or calloused — all of these things are like clues that fit together to form the bigger picture of their life. Your own hands must give away the parts of you that you would prefer to stay hidden — like the fact that you pick at your skin. Itoshi Rin has beautiful hands. His hands were pretty enough that you were glad he played a sport that relied on his legs and feet instead. You never told him that you thought so; he probably would have called you strange should he have found out.

He never seemed to value you in the same way you valued him.

You pull at your skin again, pushing it down with the edge of your nail just until you feel the sharp sting of it having gone too far. It's boring at your job, nothing much to do or see. You sit on an ergonomic moving chair behind a large wooden desk, adjusting calendars and making appointments. There isn't much mystique to your job, nothing to write home about, but it gets you through life just fine. Glancing over at the time, you decide to click through and answer a few more emails in time for lunch to roll around.

In junior high, you had wanted to be an artist. You joined the art club and begged your family to let you participate in painting and sketching classes. You kept sketchbook after sketchbook filled with doodles and things — mostly of hands. It's been a long running obsession of yours. You used to draw faces but ever since you stopped messing with your face, your drawings of them phased out too.

In senior high, a teacher told you that artists don't make money from drawing hands all day. It irked you enough that you let go of that dream. You wanted to become a nail technician, you decided. The day you changed your dream, you went to tell the only person you considered close enough to tell; you went to tell Rin. It was that day that you had to come to the startling realisation that your best friend didn't seem to consider you much of a friend anymore. You spent all of your lunch break looking for him, only to find him practising at the field behind your school. When you called out to him, he ignored you. He stopped answering your texts too. You discarded the sliver of hope you had kept safe within your chest — the very thing that made you believe you would get Rin back soon. Something had changed in him and you didn't know what because he never told you.

(Because he never seemed to value you in the same way you valued him.)

You found other friends. Rin always seemed to be alone. He pulled out of school for a football program a week later, and you decided to give up on becoming a nail technician.

There's a soft beep that rings out from your phone — just one singular chime at the lowest volume you set on your first day on the job — when it's time for your lunch break. You always take it at the same tonkatsu shop seven minutes away from your place of work.

Today, it takes you ten minutes to get there because the heels you've chosen to wear are new ones; you haven't broken them in yet. You bought them for a date that you never ended up going to. Guilt over standing them up had consumed you but you just couldn't muster up the courage to go. You were all too aware of the fact that some pathetic part of you was still clinging onto a boy you haven't seen for a long time.

You remember the brush of the wind through his fringe, the sharp determined glint in his emerald eyes. You still hold onto the way his name once had a home at the tip of your tongue. Even as the years pass, Itoshi Rin digs his teeth into your skin and remains with you; parasitic and tormenting.

You ease yourself into the table in the corner and make your order, scrolling through your phone while you wait. Your feed is full of recent news, some things you understand and others you're not quite sure you get. Rin is there too, mixed in between all the posts about celebrities and new dramas. You were always bad at watching football. You were bad with most sports, they could never keep your interest for long, but you tried for Rin's sake. When the both of you were younger, you'd sit on the grass at the park and watch Rin run through the drills he'd seen his brother do earlier.

As you stare at the pictures of him standing on the pitch, stadium lights spilling down on him, you can't help but feel proud. Sweat glistens along his hairline, his hair still cut in the same way he used to have it when you knew him. The captain's armband is stretched tight around his bicep as his arm curls to hold up a trophy.

The swell in your chest comes with an ache you've never learned to get rid of. This ache that's ever-present, always there like a guest you can't seem to send home. It had only been a small sting when your friendship with Rin fully fell apart, but it grew tenfold when you realised you were in love with him. You pick at your skin again, the same place from earlier. Pain blooms at your fingertip but you choose to ignore it as you scroll past the pictures; your heart squeezes and shudders against your will, even after all these years.

The day inches past, sweat gathers along the nape of your neck. You leave the building at five precisely, stagger into the subway station at half past five, and sink into a navy blue seat at a quarter to six. The backs of your brand new heels dig into your ankles and you're certain there will be blisters when you yank them off at home.

Even still, your day has been a good one. Despite the fact that your mother had called and urged you to visit home; despite today marking the anniversary you first met Itoshi Rin; despite the way your heart always sinks at the realisation that you still remember the significance of what should be another meaningless day. Despite it all, it had been good and you stare at the passerby walking along the platform, head pressed against the cool window.

(You wonder about Rin once more, like you always do. You wonder if he's walking amongst a crowd this evening, perhaps something fried in his hand, keeping his palm warm. Maybe he's holding a drink instead — lukewarm green tea. In another world, it might have been your hand.)

The train shakes to a start, rocking you from side to side and it becomes impossible to keep yourself awake. You drift off to the memory of a boy you once knew.

-

You're sure you're bleeding. The skin around your index nail is irritated, throbbing with a dull pain. Similarly, there's a sting — a quick flash of something white hot up your left calf — whenever you take a step. Your blister must have turned into a cut.

Your soles scrape against the road, shoulders loose and hunched forward as you meander your way home. The sun has set, disappearing into the skyline in the distance as the sky grows darker and the wind picks up. Streetlights have flickered to life and you pass by a salon still packed with customers, women resting against soft cushions as they converse. You roll your neck from side to side, attempting to release some of the tension that has gathered along your muscles from staying seated almost all day, fingers loosely wrapped around the straps of your bag.

Eyes trained on the fading white marks beneath your feet, you turn the corner into the alleyway you apartment building sits in. There's a crunch of someone taking a step towards you, and then — the call of your name, familiar, wrapped up in the gravelly tone of a voice too rough to belong to the boy you once knew. But you know it's him, anyway.

"Rin?" you tilt your head to the side, scanning over his features as he stands against the sunlight, soft shadows marking his pale skin. He remains silent, almost stunned as he stands across from you, so you speak again, "It's been a while." 

He doesn’t smile, but the corners of his mouth twitch in a way that suggests one. Rin is wearing a dark windbreaker, hands stuffed into its pockets. There's a loose thread hanging off the cuff around his wrist, a tiny rip of the outer fabric revealing the slight grey beneath. He clears his throat, "Yes, it has been." There's a pause then, neither of you willing to bridge the gap in conversation as the exhaust fans whir quietly. 

"How have you been?" Rin asks, taking a step towards you. You can smell him now, flowery and sweet; its lavender, which is what you had remembered him as. In a way, it comforts you — some things will stay the same and stand the test of time, no matter how many years have inched by.

“I’ve been good,” you hum. Truthfully, you haven’t quite been good in a long time. You’ve been alright, you’ve made it from day to day, you pay your bills on time and you see your friends every other weekend; but it’s not good — it's just alright. You don’t think Rin needs to hear that, not after how long it has been since you last heard his voice following after your own. 

It's strange to think about how his mother knows your name and your face, knows that you like lemonade with some raspberry in it; how Rin was there to witness the way you got every fading scar on your arms and legs. Standing before him now, you don't even know what his apartment might look like. Your lives, which were once so intricately intertwined, have unravelled and diverged to the point of obscurity.  

You've given him the room to say something, continue the conversation or choose to end it, but Rin is quiet as he takes you in. His brows are furrowed, just a shaky line above his dark eyes as watches you fidget and begin to grow uncomfortable under the weight of stare. 

This silence is far too heavy of a burden for you to shoulder, so you cut through with a question that seems a bit out of place now. "What are you doing here?" 

Your voice seems to snap him out of whatever trance he was previously in, "I was out on a walk — wandering around, I guess." Rin shuffles even closer and the wind billows, rustling the fabric of his windbreaker. You watch his hair flutter and fall against his forehead.

"I would have thought that you'd be busy all the time, seeing as you're a celebrity now," you say with a soft laugh, twisting the ends of your coat between your fingers while your bag swings gently from side to side in your other hand. 

He doesn't seem to like that, gaze sharpening just a bit as his mouth curves into a frown. You chew on your bottom lip, feeling a bottomless pit open up inside of your stomach at the realisation that it's become so much harder to talk to the boy who used to be your best friend. (To talk to the boy who you used to love — who you are willing to love once again.) 

It's getting colder as the remaining tendrils of sun slowly disappear, hiding away to make room for the moon to shine. You nod at your apartment, "Would you...like to come inside?" You expect him to say no, after all, the two of you are no longer the people you remember each other to be. 

Surprisingly, Rin perks up at your question, firmly nodding once. He follows after you as you walk over to your front door, fishing around the front pocket of your bag for your keys. Rin stands a hair's width away from you, his warm breath fanning over the back of your neck and goosebumps ripple down your arms. 

You watch him study your home, scrutinising your choice of decor — the small pictures framed on the walls, magazines and books strewn about — as he takes off his shoes. He seems to be drawn to the picture resting on one of your shelves: it's of you and him, years ago, standing next to each other with smiles full of missing teeth that look more like grimaces. You were hoping he wouldn't notice that one, one of the only pictures you've kept of and from your childhood, but you can't blame him for it either. Had it been you, that picture would have been the first one you noticed too.

"You kept this?" he's nearly whispering as he gently takes the ageing framed photo in his hands. 

You rest your bag on the floor, "Yeah. Mom gave it to me right before I moved out." He turns back to look at you and his next words are unspoken, but still so loud. 

You hadn't just kept it — you framed it, placed it in your living room for everyone to see. His expression crumbles momentarily, a quiet admission of guilt that settles in the short distance between you. Rin must not have kept much of you with him. He never says it outright, but you know better. Maybe that should leave you feeling bitter but it's somehow exactly what you expected of him. 

Has Itoshi Rin changed at all from the last time you saw him? Do you just know him too well? 

Dusting off your clothes, you take a deep breath, "It's getting late. Want dinner?"

Rin agrees. Like you were expecting him to.

-

You've never liked beer.

But you find yourself peering into a glass full of it as Rin settles in across from you. You're still in your work attire, the waistband of your skirt digging into your stomach after your full meal. Rin's left his windbreaker in a crumpled heap of fabric beside his chair, the tip of his finger drawing lines in the condensation forming on his glass. His nails are well-groomed, cut short and clean. They might be better than yours, but that’s because Rin doesn’t pick at his skin like you do. You stare until you think you shouldn’t anymore. 

He hasn't gotten up to leave. You haven't kicked him out. 

Resting your cheek against your fist, you push yourself forward, closer to him. Your slight movement draws his attention away from the glass, Rin looks up at you as his frown eases up. 

"It's strange seeing you," you admit, more open to honesty thanks to your slight state of inebriation. "Strange seeing you after so many years." 

"You have that picture," he scoffs, jerking his head in the vague direction of the picture of the two of you as kids. 

Scrunching up your nose, you lean back against the chair, "Yeah, but you don't look like that anymore. You're taller and you have too many teeth." You take a sip of your beer, feeling it fizz against your top lip, "And you're probably meaner now." 

He startles, looks offended when he throws back whatever's left in his glass. "I'm not mean." 

You raise a brow, "You were already pretty mean when you left me." You shock yourself at how easily the words slipped past your lips, how little hesitation there was. How you still sounded so hurt over it all despite having spent years convincing yourself that you didn't miss him. The treacherous muscle beating within your ribcage twists and shakes. It only takes a moment for understanding to soften the glare Rin is giving you. Reaching over, you grab the can of beer to refill his glass, cursing under your breath when you realise it's empty. "I'll get some more — just wait."

You dig around in your refrigerator and you can feel Rin watching. "You're bleeding," he says. 

"It's nothing," you wave him off, returning with another cold can. 

He shakes his head, "Do you have bandages?"

And so you find yourself with your chest pressed against the cushions of your couch, ankles hanging off the edge. You spare Rin a glance over your shoulder, awkwardness leaving you silent and rigid. He's kneeling beside you, holding two bandages he insisted he get for you from the years old first aid kit stashed away in your medicine cabinet. 

"You don't have to do this you know," you mumble, pinching at the inside of your cheek with your teeth. "I could have done it myself." 

Rin gently grabs your ankle, his fingers are cold enough to make you jolt. "It's fine," he brushes off your words with nothing more than a grumble. "This could get infected," he adds on as he places the band-aid over the cut. 

His hands are on you, fingers wrapped around your ankle almost completely. He skims them over your skin and you suppress a shiver. You think you should tell him that his hands are pretty — that they have always been pretty — but you bite your tongue. 

Your cuts don't hurt as much as they had earlier, and the blood surrounding them has dried down. You're sure nothing would have come of it being left uncovered, but Rin seems adamant on doing this simple task for you. You wonder if part of it has anything to do with being labelled as "mean." 

He shuffles over to your other ankle, jeans brushing against your rug, as does the same thing. It's been too long since you've been taken care of like this — the feeling has become wholly foreign and you struggle to sit still while Rin smooths out the band-aid over your skin. When he stands up, you twist around and slouch your back against the couch, facing him. 

Rin looms over you. He brushes some hair out of his eyes and sits down next to you. "I'm on a break — I'll be around a lot more."

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, "Around to see me?" 

And perhaps, you're imagining it, the way he moves closer so that his thigh is pushed up against it. Perhaps, you're imagining how he's leaned into you. Rin's temple makes contact with your shoulder and you exhale. 

"Yes," he whispers, looking up at you through his lashes." To see you." You can recognise the guilt swimming in his gaze, leftover from earlier in the evening.

You wish he would just say it — say sorry — but your heart yearns for him regardless of what he's said and what he should have said. It's ridiculous; it was years ago and you should have moved on. (And you know that the only reason it hurt as badly as it did was the fact that you had loved him twice as much when things soured.) You're motivated by the ache you've grown accustomed to when you bring your hand to his hair, digging your fingers in, scratching at his scalp. Much like a cat, Rin goes limp against you and you trace the side of his face with the pad of your thumb. 

You try to hide your other hand, feeling somewhat self-conscious about the way you’ve torn it up. Rin reaches for it without a second thought, lacing his fingers together with your own, oblivious to all the rough parts you’ve left behind with your habit. 

"What if I don't want to see you?" you question. You don't really mean it — you hope he knows. 

You can feel his breath, feel the rise and fall of his chest as he speaks, "I would wait until you said you wanted to." 

"Even if that took years?" You pause your movements, hand still in his hair. Rin draws a gasp out from you when he presses a fluttering kiss against your wrist — a nervous kiss, one that tests the waters. 

"Even then," he says. 

You don't know who leans in first, you want to say it's Rin but you, with your years of yearning, are not to be trusted either. His cold palms cup your face, lips parting against your own, his tongue meeting yours. He kisses you hungrily, eagerly, desperate to make up for years of lost time and memories that were meant to be shared by two but left to be held by just one instead. It almost hurts — when his teeth sink into your lip and you whimper, Rin snaps his eyes open. He licks over where he bit, fingers digging into your cheeks. 

You like the feeling of his hands on you. You want them everywhere, you decide. Rin tugs at your collar, unbuttons your shirt quickly, his hands splayed out over your sides and just grazing your bra. It's only then that you pull away, chest heaving as you stare up at him.

"Will you discard me again?" Your voice sounds almost meek in a way; you're afraid of what he might say and of what you might see. Too scared to see him hesitate, too scared to meet his eyes and not see yourself reflected in them.

But Rin's answer is instantaneous. His gaze has darkened some, lust-blown and riddled with the yearning that's been growing in your chest for years. His palm encircles your wrist, the other wraps around your waist chasing purchase. "Never," he says with a kind of conviction that leaves butterflies erupting at your fingertips. 

While his hand travels up your back, he kisses you again and this time it feels different. He moves up your wrist, intertwining your fingers once more. You know you have him in all the ways that he has you.