#this guy looks really easy to like. put in a trash can. or shove into a locker. or take lunch money from. anything really

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

@lifeina-glasshouse your fault

[stabortega]

NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Having to deal with the aftermath of that situation was definitely worse then finding out the truth.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Mentions of sex, dirty talking and sexting. Knife play. Mentions of kinks, nothing explicit. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's Note: Still think my writing is trash but you guys seem to like it. 💜

MASTERLIST.

"What the actual fuck?!" Jasmine almost yelled as Jenna shoved her inside one of the dressing rooms in the set, while she tried to shut the other actress up. "Thank god someone's paying that poor girl's college."

"This is not fucking funny, Jasmine. I shouldn't have told you." Jenna locked the door behind her, looking at her apprehensively. She made a terrible mistake by telling Jasmine what went on last night. "And now they expect me to work with her? After I-"

"Seen her dick? Oh god, what will be of you?" The black girl laughed, while sitting down on the couch. "Chill, alright? She probably doesn't even know you donated. I mean, what was your username?"

Jenna gulped. "I don't wanna say it."

"Come on, was it that obvious??" Jasmine rolled her eyes, waiting for an answer.

"It was my first name then the first four digits of my birthday."

"I cannot fucking believe you."

Living in New York wasn't easy. Every apartment was obnoxiously expensive, so you had to resort to leave the city and start living in Brooklyn. It was a nice neighborhood, the best you could afford if we're being completely honest. Moving to the big city was by far the best and the worst decision you've ever made. Other than starting college, obviously.

I mean, you loved every second of it, but it started to fuck your financial life right up the ass.

"You should create an Only Fans or something." You almost spit the whiskey shot you were drinking right back to your cup, looking at your friend as if she just told you that she had killed three men with a needle. "I'm serious, (Y/N). Do you know how much money you can get just by posting out some feet pics, or whatever?"

"I'm not gonna sell pictures of my feet for cash, Liana." She shook her head no while taking a sip of her Appletini.

"Then don't. Sell your dick pics, or livestream. Come on, I know how much you're struggling and you know you're putting that body to waste. What's the worse thing can happen?"

And she was right. You started out with just an account on that website, posting some pictures here and there; until one of your followers suggested livestreaming and said she would pay some good money just to watch you cum on your stomach (which obviously, she did). It happened so fast that, when you realized it, you were able to get yourself a better place right downtown, pay off your college debts and buy a professional video camera to shoot some amateur movies. And no, not the pornographic kind.

You wanted to be a director someday, but you were also really good with a camera; which is why you got the opportunity to work in the upcoming Scream movie as an assistant videographer (and because Liana put in a good word for you). It was your first real gig in your area of interest, you couldn't be more excited.

The first day was just like any other. You got to meet a few people and get a hold of the equipments you were going to use.

"Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!" Your boss, Dave, called your name while you were looking at one of the IMAX cameras, which you've never got the opportunity to film with. You realized he wanted to introduce you to some people, which he did. You just didn't expect it would be one of the protagonists (and the newest it actress of Hollywood). "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna."

You extended your hand for her to shake, which she did after looking at it for a couple of seconds, almost if she was analyzing you. "Nice to meet you too, (Y/N)."

And that was pretty much it, you guys didn't exchanged any other words besides that on that particular day. You even thought that she could be avoiding you, for whatever reason. All throughout the day, you felt her gaze on you multiple times, but everytime you looked at her, she just looked away.

"You're definitely not subtle." Jasmine whispered in Jenna's ear, while she watched you handle one of the camera films. "I'm pretty sure that she can physically feel your eyes on her butt as we speak."

"She's definitely gonna find out that I was on her stream last night." The Ortega took a deep breath, looking away when she realized you looked at her again.

"She's not, don't get paranoid. You have the most obvious and boring username ever? Yes. It would take just one Google search to figure out your identity? It would. But still!" Jenna got up from the chair she was sitting, realizing that all she wanted to do was to smoke this off.

"You're not helping, Jasmine." She took out her pack of Marlboro's and her lighter once she was outside. "I never even watched porn before, not even by myself."

"And now you donated $1500 to a complete stranger just so she could cum while moaning your name. That's a character development." Jasmine stood beside Jenna, who had just started smoking so she could even try to forget that she wanted to sit on her coworker's dick less than 24 hours ago.

"I'm never doing that again, Jasmine. It's inhumane and gross. It was the first and the last time."

jenna2709: thought about you a lot today.

"Oh, did you? Good to hear that." She locked the door behind her and sat on her bed. That was Jenna's, at least, 10th day of watching your streams nonstop. And she had just "caught" you in the beginning of your livestream (which meant that she had the notifications of your page on and was too much of a chicken to admit it). So that meant that you weren't even undressed yet, you were just rubbing your dick over your sweatpants and chatting a litte bit with your followers before you started your actual show. "What exactly were you thinking of, huh?"

jenna2709: of me sucking your cock under this table while you tell me how much of a good girl i am.

Jenna realized what she said after she already sent the message. Where did that came from? She thought while looking intensely at the livestream, hoping you would just stop with the teasing and take your cock out of your pants for her to see (and drool). "Oh baby, I'm sure you're very good with your mouth. Wanted to cum right on your throat and make you swallow every drop."

jenna2709: i would be honored to be your cum dump.

"Okay, I crossed the line." She took a deep breath, not even recognizing who was that person inside of her, the person that would say the most obscene and erotic shit that she ever heard. It was almost if something awakened inside of her everytime she saw you. Every couple of days, at exactly 10PM, she would lock herself in her hotel bedroom and fuck her pussy so deep until she passed out from having like, five orgasms. And that was the easy part, obviously. The hardest part was definitely waking up in the morning and having to look at you as if she didn't saw your dick inside of a fleshlight the night before.

Jenna grew up christian. In a american dream type of household. But getting in touch with Hollywood and all of the film industry made her get out of her bubble and quite literally, discover the world. She drank, she smoked, she went to 2AM parties at some A-List celebrity's house that she never even met before. But sex? Never sex. She met a few people here and there, but nothing further. It made her think about that, the fact that she couldn't even be interested enough in someone to actually have some sort of contact with them; but with you, she would stay all night thinking about you fucking her raw and senseless until she couldn't remember who she was.

"Stop teasing, Jenna. We both know you were born to be my cum dump, and mine only." You were so horny imagining having that stranger on her knees while she had her mouth open, waiting for you to dump your cum inside of her pretty little throat. You took your cock out of your pants, a little bit earlier than you've expected, but you were getting so worked up that you didn't even thought about your stream routine. You started to stroke the member gently, feeling your dick pulsate right on the palm of your hand. "I know that you're the only one who can take care of this right, don't you think?"

jenna2709: if you were mine, i would make you cum on my pussy everyday.

Jenna started to get scared. Who was this person that was hiding inside of her? Was she really like that? Is she the female version of Christian Grey and doesn't know it yet? How the fuck she got so horny all of a sudden?

She knew that the reason you were playing that little game with her was merely money. But there was a part of her, a tiny part that hoped that you felt attracted to her as much as she felt to you. Even if you'd never seen her face, or her body. It didn't mattered if she had just met you a couple of days ago; she wanted you to want her, the same way she wanted you.

"And if you were mine, I would carve my name on your belly so everyone would know who you belong to." Oh yes, the knife play.

Jenna wasn't naive or innocent, she knew about fetishes and BDSM practices; and thankfully there was the option of marking your kinks on your own profile when you created your account. The actress spent an embarrassing amount of time researching some of your kinks that were listed on your profile (there was so many things she didn't even knew existed, to be completely honest). And the thought of you doing all of those things with her got her aroused in a matter of seconds.

jenna2709: you could carve your name on my face, for all i care.

jenna2709: i would definitely want people to know that i'm yours.

The rest of the livestream went as usual, you doing all of the things that your subs asked you to, Jenna being awarded as the number 1 tipper for the 5th time in a row, nothing out of the ordinary. You were just about to cum for the second time when Jenna tipped you again with a request.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $2000 with the message: i want you to cum for me, again.

"You know I never decline your requests, baby. But, let's be fair this time around?" You answered, a little bit breathless, masturbating your cock as hard as you could. "I'll give you a private livestream if you show me your face."

Oh, a private livestream?

Jenna had been following your for awhile now ever since her first time watching your stream. She knew that private livestreams weren't something you did. And yet, you were here, offering one for free, just to see Jenna's face in return. It was a really good offer, but Jenna couldn't accept. If you found out who she was, the shooting would be the most awkward work experience for both of them. It would be like, "Hey, (Y/N)? Can you get this camera ready for me? Also, I've already seen your dick and I'm having wet dreams with you fucking me like the slut I am." So, she took one last breath after she decided to stick with her original plan and decline.

jenna2709: it's a deal.

[ra1nyd4yzz]

Weird, perv Wilbur x sweet, gyrau reader!

warnings: smut, mentions of sex toys, use of sex toys, Wilbur's room is disgusting and vile. I really don't know any other warnings so if I missed any let me know!!

Taglist:@abbs-writes-nsfw

Words:763

this started off as nothing like I wrote a little blurb type thing in abbs asks and it kinda progressed and now we have this! I hope you like it also it was my first time writing smut so it's not great but I tried my best also its not edited. this took hours for some reason.

You now always teased Wilbur for how you guys started dating, i mean how could you not i mean you caught him jerking off to a photo of you of course you were going to tease the poor boy he deserved it for being a perv.

You were in his room, him laying in his bed watching you as you cleaned up his room. “Babe, you know I can clean it right?” He said looking at you like you were his goddess “yea but you wont i mean look at this ugh” you picked up a bowl of mouldy unfinished ramen “how old is this wil?” he looked at it “ohh that's where i put that huh i must have forgotten” he chuckled and you side put the bowl in a trash bag and you continued cleaning his room.

Putting dirty clothes in his unused clothes basket and bowls of mouldy ramen and cereal in the bin because you know those bowls could never be washed enough to get the mould off them.

You got on the ground after you cleared it and stuck your head under the bed, you decided you were cleaning everything out so under his bed and closet were getting cleaned out. Wilbur stared at your perfect body as you went down well. He was mainly staring at your ass but still it was perfect to him.

You pulled out a shoe box, weirdly it was the only one under his bed? You set it on his desk in front of his monitor. Wilbur was too intrapped in your glory he didn't notice the shoebox “what's this baby?” you asked and he had to drag his eyes from your body to the shoe box on his desk and he immediately freaked “sweetheart lets not open this box please its personal-” and before you could even hear the last part of his sentence you opened the shoebox and started giggling at the contents inside.

“Sex toys really wilbur?” you picked up a fleshlight “bet you used these while looking at photos of me you perv” you chuckled saying it as a joke, you turned to wilbur and he was looking down in his lap in guilt “you didn't actually did you wilbur?” no reply, your mouth slightly parted “wilbur?” you asked again he shamefully looked back up and grabbed it off you and shoved it back in the shoe box and closed it.

You chuckled at the thought of your pretty boy being a perv for you, you opened up the box and grabbed the fleshlight “y/n stop-” “take off your pants and boxers now wilbur” you said as you cut him off, the tone you had was new to him, more dominant and stern somehow still keeping your soft and sweet demeanour to it. He immediately obeyed you and threw off his sweats and boxer, you sat next to him in his bed and pulled him into your lap.

It was easy to pull him into your lap as he was lanky, his cock was already hard you chuckle “oh pretty boy your cocks already hard” you couldn't keep in your giggle and that just turned him on even more, you were his goddess “well sweetboy i dont really want to fuck so im gonna use this fleshlight to get you off okay sweetheart? Just imagine it's me alright, imagine it's my tight pussy around you” he nodded and whimpered, already unable to say words “sweet boy i need to hear a yes or i can't continue” you stroked his hair and ran your fingers through his gorgeous brown curls.

“Y-yes” you heard that and slowly lowered the fleshlight on his cock, he whimpered and whined in pleasure as you went up and now and praised him, he quickly gave in and cummed, you were so proud of your pretty boy.

“good job sweetheart, let me clean you up ok?” he nodded and you took the fleshlight off his dick and put it on his desk, he whined before moaning and you licked a strip up his cock, cleaning up the cum before stopping and getting up.

You quickly came back into his room with a chux and wiped up him and the mess on the bed before helping him into his boxers, you gave him one of his hoodies and he put it on, you guys cuddled “you did so good baby, I'm so proud of you alright” you caressed his cheek, he was so tired already and he mumbled and then fell asleep in your embrace.

[softquietsteadylove]

Thena. A movie premiere with Gil. Very intrusive Paparazzis. For the actor au 👀

It was a barrage of flashes as soon as they were out of the car. Of course they couldn't expect otherwise. The movie was a huge hit, and with them playing leads in a studio hit again, they were bound to have press at their heels.

But this was insane. Gil wasn't sure if he'd ever been swarmed by fans and paparazzi alike in such a way. There were cameras everywhere, people holding out things for signing, screams on all sides.

Gil reached back before Thena put her feet to the red carpet. His hand closed around hers. "Don't let go."

Thena had done some modelling work over the summer, and with a few other projects she'd done coming out, she was the hottest commodity of the year. She had always been a star, but it really seemed like she couldn't take a step outside without being photographed.

And that wasn't good. It meant he had a harder time seeing her outside of work.

Gil held his hand out. Security was already on either side of them, flanking their exit and direct route into the building for the screening. He kept Thena's hand in his, tight but not enough to hurt her.

"Thena! Thena, can you sign this? Thena, we love you!"

All the voices blended together into one monstrous hivemind. Thena did her best to sign a few things. She couldn't see from all the flashes in her face, and he could tell she couldn't.

Fighting through as best he could, he eventually made it to the doorway. He looked around. A few of his security guys were with him, but Thena's weren't. And Thena wasn't either.

"What the hell?" he glared at them.

They looked affronted. They were hired for his security, after all.

But Gil growled at them, "you just left her there?!"

They had no response. Gil pushed back into the crowd, which was a hellish mass of undulating bodies at this point. Thena was surrounded on all sides. He could barely see the top of her blonde head amidst the chaos.

"Please, back up, just-" Thena was trying to reason with them, but they were pushing and shoving and deafeningly loud. There were placards and books and magazines being shoved at her from all angles. "Back up!"

Gil shoved a few people out of his way. This was beyond out of control. "She said back up!"

"Hey!" the guy most in her personal space protested to being pushed. He had some big photo of her printed on a canvas, shoving it at her for it to be signed. "What's the-"

Gil tossed the thing aside, grasping the jackass by the front of his shirt. "You don't fucking crowd her like that."

The dirt bag was easy to toss, like the trash he was. The security guys around her were trying to keep people at bay, although he didn't know how hard they were trying, since they certainly weren't fucking succeeding at anything.

He took Thena's hand in both of his, refusing to let it slip away from again. He pulled her with him, closer, keeping people away by any means necessary, if it meant kneeing, elbowing, shoulder checking.

He didn't pause at the doorway, either. Only once they were inside and the door was closed did he lean away from her at all. He glared at her security, who were shaking out their jackets. "What the fuck were you doing out there?! Because it certainly wasn't your jobs!"

"Gil," Thena put her hand on his chest.

"How the hell did anyone get that close to her?!" he bellowed at them. Although, by the second time Thena called to him his eyes were on her. He smoothed down the odd hair of hers that had gotten tousled in it all. He tilted his head. "Are you okay? You didn't get hurt, did you? Did anyone put their hands on you?"

His hands would be laid on anyone who did, was his point. But Thena shook her head, straightening herself out after the anarchy. He could see on her pale skin where people had pushed and shoved and grabbed.

Thena looked up at him as he slipped the fallen strap of her dress back onto her shoulder. Finally, she managed a small smile for him. "Thanks for the save."

He was happy to save her. But he had never considered it saving her before because there hadn't been any peril quite like that. He looked at the security again. "I'm serious, how was anyone able to just come up and get that close to her? Isn't your job to keep people away from her?"

"Look, it's crazy out there," one made a pitiful attempt at defending their poor performance. "We did what we could."

"Really?" Gil's face darkened. He put his hands on Thena's arms. He could feel her shaking. "Because I seemed to do a lot better than you guys at keeping those animals off of her, so tell me right now why I shouldn't ask each and every one of you to be replaced?"

No one had an answer to that.

He could try to beat it into their skulls how useless they were all night. But he had more important priorities. He pulled his jacket off, leaving himself in the mockneck sweater he had worn underneath. Once it was on Thena's shoulders - completely dwarfing her tiny frame - he put his hand at the small of her back.

"You'll get a reputation," she said, either chiding him or amused by him. "Acting like a beast while you're ushering me away from people."

"I think 'people' is being kind of generous in this situation," he scoffed, letting his disgust ring out loud and clear. "That's no way to behave."

Thena sighed. "It is the craziest I've seen it in some time. I may have to stop signings again, just until people can calm down. Unless the studio can arrange barricaded carpets."

They were going to work out something, Gil was certain of it. Because he wasn't going to watch Thena's bodily safety come into question like it just did. He leaned closer. "Are you sure you're okay? It was pretty scary in there."

She smiled, and he could tell she was trying to put on a brave front. But he knew he had felt her trembling when he'd touched her arm. "I admit, when they came over me like a tidal wave I didn't quite know what to do with myself. The others were there with me, but in one instant--I don't know, I lost sight of everyone."

How it was possible for her security to allow her to lose sight of them, he didn't know. But Gil swallowed that feeling. It wasn't constructive and it wasn't what Thena needed now.

"So, when I say thanks for saving me," she continued, putting her hand on his arm as they started climbing the stairs. "I mean it, now more than ever."

He put his hand over hers, letting her hold onto his arm properly while her other hand pulled her dress just enough to allow her to walk up each step. "I'll always be here to save you, Thena."

She let out a fluttery kind of laugh, although he couldn't see when she was looking away from him. "Don't say things like that."

"It's true," he protested. He could feel some of the tension leave her the further away from the screaming they got. "Those security guards may not be worth shit but I'd like to see anyone try what they tried tonight if they know I'm there."

He thought he was making her laugh; putting on a front, flexing for her like some dumb, macho tough guy. But she eyed his bicep in the half sleeve of the sweater, then looked up at him. And then she was blushing, out of nowhere.

He cleared his throat, finding himself flustered as well. Once at the top of the stairs, Thena didn't really need to hold onto him anymore. He paused, letting them catch their breath. "Are you ready?--to go in there, I mean."

She sighed, smaller than the last one, though. She nodded, her expression solidifying into more of the fearless Thena he had come to know. She looked at his jacket swaying around her like a cloak. "Won't you need this back? I'm sure your stylist will have something to say about me stealing it."

He kept imagining that creep's hands, how they had come so close to grasping her pristine ivory skin. He shook his head, helping her fan her hair out. "The oversized blazer look is a thing, and everything looks good on you."

Gil blushed again; he really had to stop saying these things to his very trusted and respected colleague.

Thena gave him a more sheepish smile as she adjusted her hold on his arm. "It's my armour, to protect me from the wilderness outside."

[m-rod-unofficial]

and here is a second ask consisting just of frank's big wet eyes in case you want to put everything i sent in the last one in the reply behind a cut, lol. i feel like all that text would be annoying to scroll past

He's so sad and rain-soaked. I can't TAKE IT!!

what do you think is the endgame for frank, gender-wise? i really want to write more post-canon fic for him, but i'm still trying to figure out what that actually looks like. like, /would/ he want to get the implants taken out? does it change things that he was able to clumsily seduce becker? would he keep the tits just so he can use them like that, or would it not be worth all the sexual harassment or whatever?

Disclaimer that I do funnel my own gender dysphoria into Frank <3 I'm hitting him with a beam full of its concentrated form always <3

At first, he describes himself as a guy stuck in a chick's body. Later, I think it's more of "I'm a guy with parts I don't want." And now that I've typed that out, it sounds like the same thing worded differently.

I think while he initially hates his whole body post-op, he can later accept aspects of it.

For Frank, it's like having fake glasses and a mustache superglued to his face. Sure, they can be useful. Only when you're outta options, though. I mean, you feel stupid and awkward trying to play this other role with them. You don't like looking in the mirror and seeing that shit. That's not you.

Well... it is. You're under there, under the parts you don't like, but it feels like nobody can look past them. You can barely do it yourself.

I think Frank wants the implants out. He seems like the type of person to keep binding for so long that it starts seriously hurting. He'd take the tape off even less if it didn't irritate his skin. And make it hard to breathe. And hurt his back. And ribs.

...But the idea of going into surgery makes him uneasy and when it feels close to happening, he ends up backing out. And if they made him go to therapy or some shit, he wouldn't do it. No way.

He'd probably feel more content with just binding instead of having top surgery if his binding method wasn't so dogshit. He saw the duct tape is his briefcase, thought "that'll work", and never bothered looking into anything else when he had the time. A normal binder would feel too much like a bra for his taste, which also eliminates the sports bra method. A compression tank top would be a lot better for him. Or even just KT tape.

I do headcanon that he never liked how his old face looked clean-shaven and that was why he kept a beard. The new one is fine to him. Johnnie likes it. It doesn't help the problem he had where his voice and long hair would get him called slurs. Maybe he'll finally cut it short if he has a particularly shit day.

The empty spot in his boxers where his penis was bothers him more than anything else, I feel. I'd say he should shove some rolled-up socks in there, but he didn't go for that despite it being as easy for him to do as the tape. I dunno, do you think he'd use some sort of packer (if he knew what those are)?

...I'm not sure if he can handle the harassment... I feel like his tolerance levels would still be pretty low... I mean, he went in wearing his prostitute disguise knowing he'd have to put up with Albert. He was also fueled by a burning desire to get close enough to Jane to get his revenge. Be a true revenger. Whateverthefuck. Whatever it takes type of deal. I feel like the only reason Frank trying to seduce Albert wasn't played more awkwardly/uncomfortably than it was is that nobody realized his character doesn't come across as a "cool loner", but rather the awkward type.

Not even thirty minutes after he wakes up in his altered body, the motel owner shows up. Frank doesn't tell him to get out until he says that he likes his look. When he tries to reach between Frank's legs not long after that, he slams his knee into his junk, beats the shit out of him, and trashes the place more. I'd imagine that's all he thinks of whenever he receives unwanted advances, which then elicits immediate aggression.

When the guy he goes to for guns calls him beautiful, he instantly snaps at him.

semi-digression: why the FUCK is he taking the hormones? yeah, i assume dr. jane gave him an orchiectomy and he's gonna have some issues if he doesn't do some kind of hrt. but she didn't explain that to him and when frank goes to the "surgery doctor" it's clear he's done no research at all! if he's constantly binding and skulking around in the shadows trying to pass as a dude i don't know why the hell he would (1) trust that the psychopath who tortured him as revenge would be telling the truth about what the pills even were or (2) immediately start taking them and then just continue to do so of his own volition. he doesn't even put on the clothes dr. jane leaves for him because they're chick clothes! he runs out of there in a filthy robe with no shoes on but before he does he just fucking takes the estradiol! why??

There's certain things in this movie that make me wanna, like, pick up a pillow with my teeth and shake it around violently the way a dog would. You'd think Frank would maybe try asking Johnnie if she's heard of the medication before, bring it up to the "surgery doctah" instead of accepting defeat and leaving after asking two questions, look it up on a library computer, or literally anything but dry swallow those things with little to no hesitation. I'd call it a case of stupidity to keep the plot going, but it can definitely still work without Frank refusing to look into anything other than who's on Honest John's payroll. Who knows why any of the story decisions were made, really.

anyway. in the stupid black-and-white tapes it sure as hell seems like he's still binding and maybe still wearing mens' clothing? but he's ditched the dumb snapback and he doesn't have his hair in his face and i can't tell if we're meant to conclude from that that he's accepted himself or something. i know he says he's still gonna be a guy in his head, but…is he resigned to looking like a chick or not?

I can't imagine that much thought was put into his tapes tbh. Black and white filters typically indicate something is in the past, but they're made after the events of the film. He talks a bunch of nonsense about what they're for and what he's gonna do now that just leaves you sitting there like ???

He does wear his hair like that pre-op. It's slicked back when he kills Honest John's cousin (...and maybe when he offs Dr. Jane's brother? Can't remember), but he has bangs the rest of the time. The ballcap was him hiding his new face because he didn't like it, but it/the hood was also his lazy attempt to obscure it while riddling dudes with bullets, right? I dunno. Maybe he's resigned to the fact that his body will never go back to exactly what it was before, not necessarily that he has to look like a woman.

the other unhelpful thing about the movie is that we don't even know what the hell he's actually doing with his life. in the final pages of the comic, frank seems to have basically devoted himself to busting into hotel rooms and shooting johns dead. the implication is, i guess, that now he's had a taste of the female experience and wants to get justice for all those girls? i don't hate that for him. i kind of wonder how he can afford to eat, though. but if that's what he's doing, maybe that alters the calculus because those girls aren't going to trust him unless he looks like a woman? he's definitely dressing like a woman by then in the comic, but he also starts that a lot earlier. his outfits both post- and pre-op in the comic are much cooler so i don't know why mrod's wardrobe in the movie just looks like they told her to bring in the ten most drab pieces of clothing she already owned. that's another tangent, though

anyway, in the comic, frank also uses "we" when he's talking to one of those girls and you /could/ interpret it as him grouping himself in with women, but, like, it's not that clear-cut.

I don't hate that for him, either. I guess he still has to be doing some sort of hired killer stuff on the side? I'll have to reserve any real thoughts on Comic Frank until whenever I read it.

I do have a soft spot for Frank's wardrobe haha. It feeds into his "weird lil' guy who lives out of an old-ass briefcase" vibe. His single pair of footwear is biker boots. He doesn't own a bike. Or any vehicle. Who knows if he's ever been on a motorcycle at all, but they have heels that make him at least an inch taller, give him just enough space to tape his silly little extra bullet under there, and have no laces to bother with.

The leather jacket has gotta be his most expensive piece of clothing. Of course he always wears it. That's his nice thing. He owns approximately two bulky-ish coats, a lil' hoodie to wear underneath in case it's extra chilly, his dad cap he's had forever, two pairs of jeans he won't replace until there's a hole in the ass or crotch, three shirts he got off a clearance rack, and what I assume to be less than five pairs of boxers and socks. Sure, Frank could spend his big assassin bucks on nicer clothes, but he doesn't care to because... he's just an odd lil' dude, I suppose. He doesn't see any issue with what he's got on if it's not falling apart.

I bet he left the orphanage at 18 with that same fucking briefcase.

i think johnnie complicates things, too. my sense is that she likes him better as a woman. i doubt he's perceptive enough to realize that, though, and based on how he feels like he has to warn her before they have sex post-op, i wonder if he feels like he has to still be a man for her. but do you think he would want johnnie to treat him like a guy (whatever that means), or would that make him all insecure and angry because he'd feel like she was mocking him?

i have a LOT of thoughts about what kind of sex he would be able to have (if he were on the receiving end), but i'll spare you. i'll just say i have an idea for a scene in a post-canon fic where he comes to see johnnie and he's wearing some kind of very jury-rigged homemade chastity belt or dentata. and she's like, frank, what the fuck. but that's somehow his solution to having a cunt. i feel like he'd probably be paranoid as fuck about getting raped, especially if all the women he knows and interacts with are, like, the staff at run-down motels and prostitutes.

side note: in the comic, frank does think johnnie's a prostitute when he meets her, but his characterization is much more "sexy, mysterious lone wolf who occasionally likes to take a chick for a ride" than what mrod manages to convey ("loneliest, most pathetic man alive"). thank god for her big brown eyes. one hundred percent of the appeal of this movie to me is that frank is such a little loser guy. if he was remotely cool i just could not care

I bet Frank has minimal understanding of what relationships are like outside of the "fuck buddy" or "most stereotypical dynamic you've ever seen between a man and woman", but if he didn't send her off to Reno, that'd change. Slowly. No doubt penetration is the only type of sex he's ever tried pre-op. It's hard for him to comprehend the possibility that she could like him without a dick. Everything reassuring probably feels as though he's being mocked or pitied at first.

As long as she doesn't refer to him as she/her, I think he'd be fine or come to the realization that he is with a lot of things.

Eventually, he could learn that instead of sobbing alone with a bottle of liquor because "real men don't cry", it's a lot nicer to break down with his head on her lap while she pets his hair or something.

I did already agree with you about his fear of being assaulted.

If anybody else had played Frank, I wouldn't like him. I also probably wouldn't have watched the movie or be aware it exists, but y'know. My immediate impression was that he only speaks to people for transactions ...like his first hookup with Johnnie, I suppose. We don't see their conversation before he's leading her up the stairs, so maybe he does think she's a prostitute. They just skipped that like most of the interesting stuff. Regardless, I still like the idea of her approaching him more. I'm getting off track. I think he only has the "mandatory interactions" and avoids the rest because any attempts he made to bond as a child were ignored/shut down.

i do want to read about terrible things happening to him so he can sniffle wetly about it but i'm still so pissed about how the movie handles johnnie! what the fuck is the moral supposed to be: you can't trust anybody so you better spend your whole life alone? are we supposed to think it shows character development just because he's not hunting her down and shooting her or something? i would honestly rather have johnnie be killed by the doctor for lying to her. at least that would be closure.

why could she have not just been there in the background of one of his dumb videos? i think my headcanon is that he's just lying about leaving her in reno because those vids are supposed to be distributed to the public after his death and he doesn't want to get her in trouble. she's in the bathroom or out on the balcony or something. i would love to know more about his fucking "lawyer in miami," hahaha. too bad i already registered for courses for next semester. i didn't even check if they were offering sad little hitman law

i'm still trying to figure out how to scan the comics. for some reason i cannot find a scanner that doesn't display each scanned page on a huge screen in a public place and that is very awkward when you are scanning lesbian porn!! i gotta go to the library at midnight or something. i'll keep you posted <3

Another thing that makes me crazy :)) I will always be driven up the wall that they let him go back for his dog but not Johnnie. It would have been better if Dr. Jane killed her. It's one thing for him to be super pissed in the moment, but he couldn't kill her even then. Why not have him go back for her after he cools off? What was the point of it all? I hate the ending. It makes it feel like there wasn't one to anything. I share that headcanon.

I've felt awkward scanning stuff that's not porn in public. You're far braver than I am haha

[slashify]

Warnings: needles, tattoos being given in the story, passing out, piercings (not being giving in the story), memories of bullying, memories of swirlies.

Tommy and Carol come into Eddie’s shop one day. He can tell they’ve barely done their research, but he and Steve are the only ones close to 5 star artists within at least ten miles, so he figures they just went with whoever Yelp or Google or whatever said was best.

They clearly don’t recognize him. It’s not the first time someone he knew in high school doesn’t. Hell, Steve hadn’t recognized him at the expo where they’d met again. He gets it. He could pass for any number of metalheads or goths or punks if you don’t know what you’re looking for. And they’d barely given him a second glance in high school, except to giggle in his general direction about him being trailer trash or a super senior, or whatever they felt made him beneath them that week.

Eddie is a fucking professional, okay?

He plays up being Mr. Helpful. Flashes his pierced tongue and pretends not to notice both of them noticing it.

And Steve’s name is right there on the flash they’re checking out.

They pick a couples tattoo Eddie hates so much he’s lobbied Steve at least a dozen times to take it out of their portfolio. The side of Steve that his father put through several ill-fated business courses always comes out to reason with Eddie. It’s popular, it’s easy, it makes them easy money… And after a few rounds of that plus a shoulder massage that has him wondering if Steve should change careers, Eddie always relents.

Carol volunteers to go first, which makes sense considering what Eddie remembers of her from school. It takes a good while, even though it’s basic, and Tommy keeps asking her if she needs water, but Carol is handling it like a champ. Eddie knows Tommy is trying to work out his own nerves. He makes sure Tommy knows where the water cooler is.

Tommy scuttles over to get himself a cup and Eddie decides to engage with Carol.

“So how long have you two been together?”

Carol takes a deep breath and sighs it out. “About eight years. High school sweethearts, ya know?”

Eddie let’s out a noncommittal mmhm. “That’s sweet.”

Carol breathes deliberately deeply as he colors over the big vein in her forearm. “Mm. What about you? You got a girl?”

Eddie pauses with the tattoo gun in case she reacts badly, pulls away and says, “Not. Not a girl, no. I’ve been with my partner a few years now. He’s one of the other artists here. You need a break?”

Carol takes a break. Takes water from a shaky Tommy. Takes slow breaths. Eddie thinks they’re going to get back to it, but she pauses. Gets up and pulls the back of her yoga pants down a little to display a really shitty lower back tattoo. A dolphin with tribal details stretched from one ass dimple to the other, the whole thing badly scarred, ink skipping whole lines. Tommy looks like she just stripped off to her birthday suit in the middle of downtown.

“You guys do coverups?” She asks. Eddie nods. They get back to work. Eddie asks her what she’d like to cover up the lower back tattoo and is surprised when she has a few ideas. She asks if black roses could cover up the shitty tribal, if he could do a heart to cover the dolphin. They toss ideas back and forth, and by the time she’s done she has a second appointment with Eddie for a coverup. When she’s done, Eddie takes a minute. Tells them he needs to stretch out his fingers, needs a smoke break.

And he’s a professional, okay? He’s a fucking professional. And he knows this isn’t high school anymore, but he also knows how Tommy’s fingers feel in his hair when he shoves Eddie’s face into a toilet. He takes a page out of Carol’s book. Deep, slow breaths.

Tommy is not as much of a trooper as Carol is. He holds his breath, and when he lets it out it’s panicky. Eddie makes him take a few breaks, gets him a can of pineapple juice. He’s about done with the coloring when Steve comes in with his and Eddie’s lunch. The second Eddie hears Steve’s voice he pulls the gun up and out of range of Tommy.

‘I got you that broccoli stir fry thing, Ed-“ is all Steve gets out before Tommy passes out.

[ofallthingsnasty]

Oooh ok lemme tell you my lil yandere Aizawa thoughts? Bc why not, they've been bouncing around my head for a moment?

But he doesn't even realize how far he's fallen for them until shit hits the fan? I'm thinking the darling is a barista at a 24hr coffee shop, someplace he frequents on his night patrol? It sorta started out as something normal, just a dude getting his coffee. It slowly turns into him taking his breaks there at the coffee shop, grabbing something to eat the chat more with the barista. They're just so chatty because quite frankly he's the only person that's been in at this hour and they're bored.

So it turns into a nightly ritual where they both sit in a booth snarking away at this or that because theyve both sorta got the same sense of weird humor. Aizawa doesn't even realize he's falling for them even when he's causally thinking "oh I wonder if y/n likes this sort of takeout? Maybe I could bring it tonight". He doesn't even realize subconsciously he doesn't even both going to that coffee shop on the nights they have off.

Course bad guys come in; maybe they're connected with a case Aizawa is behind, or maybe the darling is just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he comes in for his nightly (not a date) coffee and sees the place trashed and sorta just goes on a rampage. These bad guys didn't think a pro would be anywhere near the scene anytime soon so their trails pretty fresh.

And after taking down this entire gang he find his darling tied up, gaged and blindfolded in one of those heavy duty dog cages, and he's just stuck staring because there you are. He was so scared that he wouldn't be in time to save you. In fact, he didn't even call in the incident in the first place, he just reacted.

To him, you look so small, curled in on yourself as much as you can in this cage. And he just sorta reacts? Picks up the cage and gets outta there, just leaving behind a bunch of bodies for some poor idiot to find another day.

And like. When he gets you home, it's not. Immediately he takes you out, no he's got to prepare a little bit? In fact, the thought of you needing his protection had crossed his mind, but never to this extent. So it's a cobbled together "bedroom" for you. He takes his bed and anything he thinks you might like that he has on hand and shoves it in the basement that he's never used. And only then hes starting to "unlock" that cage for you. Really just putting on a show of unlocking it so you know someone's there again.

When he reaches for you, whenever you feel the touch of a hand your jerking back and forth wildly, scared out of your mind, but it's not too much a deterant as he just pulls you out before slipping of your blindfold. Oh if he hadn't been in love before he would have fallen for you again in that moment, your eyes so scared before melting into heartbreaking relief at the sight of him. Your sob and throw yourself into his chest and he just pulls you in and strokes your hair.

He hasn't even untied you, and your sobs and muffled by the fabric tied in your mouth, but your too far gone to recognize anything but a hero in front of you and he just holds you as your shaking starts to calm down. He's heart breaks when you start chanting garbled thank yous into his chest. It's not for a moment until you've calmed down enough for him to untie you fully, and your practically limp in his arms.

From there, it's so easy for him to convince you that you were being targeted; that you needed to stay with him for your own protection. Your eating up his lies with full acceptance, nodding along that of course you'd stay.

And you do, unquestionably. At first. But by the time you start to catch onto things he's had all the time he's needed to fully lockdown and stafeguard your home. You never even fully suspected something amiss until the basement door that had been unlocked your entire stay is suddenly locked. You think it's just an accident so when Aizawa comes down to sit you gently on the bed to explain things have changed a bit (for the better he says, for your protection he says) you think he's joking until your cuffed to the bed as he goes about the final renovations to your prison cell, ones too obvious to get by under your nose.

And he's just so gentle the entire time, he's planned for this. Your acting logically, like a kitten in a new home. Of course everything is scary and new. But it's fine, you'll both be happy soon. He'll make sure of it.

Oops I wrote a lot my baddddd, plus it's late AF for me so like. This is definitely smth that's a train of thought vs actually thought out ppft

Tell me what u think?

Oh… this is so soft, omg 🥺 thank you for this - I swear I got a little teary when reader hugged him 😭 This is just.. the perfect yandere. Good intentions but still incredibly possessive. I don't even know what else to add to this, but I really loved the kitten motif here 👀

How terrible that must have been for him - he nearly got his heart ripped out of his chest, nearly lost you. Can you blame for never wanting to let go of you ever again? You’ve been hurt like this once, who is to say it won’t happen again? He can barely stand your tears and begging once you catch on what he’s been doing, really, it breaks something deep within him. And he understands, knows that this shouldn’t be the solution but he can’t help himself. He really tries to make the transition to living with him easier - he’ll get you a few books of authors you enjoy, some supplies for crafts you like, small trinkets to hold onto. And he’s patient. So incredibly patient with you. Never punishes you when you slap him, bite him, try to scratch your way out of his arms (because that’s what you do with feral kittens, right? Just shower them with love until they learn to accept and enjoy it.) He misses your old self, those careless nights and late coffees and the conversations - he wants those back, desperately so, but life isn’t fair. Some day you’ll be as carefree as before but for now keeping you safe is his top priority. But I think with time, he learns to enjoy the new power dynamic as well. It feels good to protect you like that, to be able to ensure you’re completely safe. Confusing, isn’t it? On one hand he wants to go back, on the other you’re cute like this, too. Maybe he can have both. Maybe he can put you in adorable little outfits and come home to a warm meal after a hard day at work, maybe you can laugh and talk over dinner and he can he have you underneath him, absolutely wrecking you. Also, you can't tell me he wouldn't get a little... freaky with it. He's a grown man, he has pined after you for so long, he has developed some urges as well. He has a penchant for the cuter, simpler things in life and putting you in a little frilly collar in your favorite color? God, he mentally sheds a tear when he makes you put it on for the first time. It fits you, he thinks - you're feisty yet so delicate when compared to him. He really has found his perfect match and he's never letting go of you.

[strangersteddierthings]

Writing Prompt for this list, requested by @suddenlyinlove. #42. "His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow." and #30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Details - This is an AU with a twist I don't wanna spoil so like... suspend your disbelief please. Period-typical homophobia and thus, the use of slurs derogatorily. Stir clear if that is triggering.

Posted on Ao3 because it is long (9.7k) and it might be easier to read there for some.

-

August 25, 1984 - Two Days Before the Start of School

There's a good view of the whole party from their dark corner of the yard, where Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are huddled around him. Eddie'd told Carol Perkins he'd show but only if his friends could come, too. If she wanted weed, then his friends could have beer.

Plus, if he was going to suffer, they were going to suffer. That's what friendship was about.

"His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow," Eddie mutters, glaring in the general direction of Steve 'The Hair' Harrington as he laughs at something (he's clutching his beer awfully tight for someone having fun- Nope, Eddie doesn't care).

"Right? Can see it ballooning right before our eyes," Jeff says. This is why Jeff is his best friend. They hate on the same things. People. Whatever.

"Sorry for you guys," Eddie fakes sympathy, "once I graduate, I won't have to deal with it. Let me know if anyone shoves you into a locker though. I'll slash some tires or refuse to sale 'em weed. Whichever hurts them more."

"You said that last year," Gareth says. "And yet."

Eddie pretends to stab himself in the heart, falling to the ground dramatically, gasping like he was dying before finally stilling, staring as unblinking as he could at the sky.

Jeff nudges him with his foot, "good riddance, Munson. People will remember you weirdly."

Eddie breaks character to grin up, lifting a hand that Jeff takes and helps pull him up. "Remembered weirdly is what it's all about."

"Speaking of weird, Harrington's being... weird," Gareth says, tilting his head slightly, still looking in the direction they'd all been looking at just moments before. "When you just dropped he like... I dunno. Weird."

"What, weird how. What did he do?" Eddie whips to look at Harrington, who is looking back, looking worried, and is slightly closer than he was before. Eddie watches as Harrington's eyes track his entire self, looking for what, Eddie can't even begin to understand. He can visibly see the tension leave Harrington's body, pretty sure even his friends clocked that (even though they have less experience in the Harrington-watching department than himself).

"When you dropped, he like... rushed forward. I think he caught how fucking weird that would be for him to do 'cause he stopped just as quickly. That's weird, right?"

"Really fucking weird."

Harrington steps back into his friend group, more on the outside than he was before. (Did seem like people loved Hargrove a bit more than Harrington these days).

Eddie and his friends go back to trash talking everyone they can set their eyes on. It's easy to do, what with being ignored in the corner again. Occasionally Eddie is flagged down by someone, or they try and make eye contact (which is worse), so he huffs as though put upon and marches off to a different corner of the Perkins' backyard to sale his contraband.

(If he's marking it up, well, these rich kids can afford it.)

Anyway, their trash talk always seems to come back to Harrington. None of them acknowledge it out loud but Harrington's the easiest to shit talk in public because he's the safest. He's egotistical, kinda airheaded, and an asshole, but in a different way than Hagan or Jackson or most of the other jocks.

Harrington is the kind of asshole that you introduce yourself to 15 times and unless you're 'popular' he doesn't bother to remember he's already met you. Hagan and Jackson are assholes that give you a swirlee if you sneeze wrong near them, or will call you a fag before gut punching you behind the bleachers because they think they caught you staring at them (which Eddie was not ((It was Harrington he was staring at)).

He's safe to shit talk because he doesn't get physical (couldn't win a fight if the rumors were true (Also they all saw how he looked after Jonathan got him)) and rarely gets confrontational (less so with each passing year). Eddie thinks that's his ego - he's so full of himself that anything you say about him can't possibly affect him. (What are the words of a peasant in the face of a king, after all?)

That's not to say they haven't fucked up and said something at just the right time to provoke Harrington in the past, because they all have, but it's typically his lackeys that jump in defense, that say something first to defend Harrington. And The King will let them bark and growl just enough to put the peasants back in their place, calming his dogs with words of 'they're not worth it' and 'if what he said meant anything it would have hurt, wouldn't it?' which is just rude. Like Eddie and his friends aren't even people capable of drawing Harrington's attention, much less his wrath.

If Eddie's honest with himself (he's not), he would stop to question why he even wants to provoke a reaction from Harrington (it's because of his stupid crush), but Eddie's not honest so...

The point is, they feel pretty comfortable trash talking Harrington in hushed whispers to themselves in a corner of Carol Perkins' yard.

"Do you think he, like, genuinely thinks he looks cool when he does that?" Gareth whispers as they watch Harrington shotgun a beer, again.

"Dunno, probab-" Jeff cuts himself off, a quizzical expression on his face as he turns his head to look towards the Perkins' house. He's got ears that pick up everything, so Eddie just watches as he moves away from the group to the fence. Watches as Jeff jumps to look over. When he lands, he flips quickly back to them, looking between them and the group of party goers. He takes a moment, assessing his options it seems, before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, "Cops in bound! Just turned onto the street!"

The party starts scattering instantly, teens running in all directions.

Brian and Gareth eye the back fence and Eddie knows immediately they're not going to jump it. Eddie throws Gareth the keys to his van, "get Jeff and go."

They don't argue, they've done this song and dance before. Eddie knows they might get a stern talking to for smelling like beer but if Eddie's in the van with them, they're all ending up in jail because of what's in his lunchbox. (Hell, they'd still get a night in jail instead of just a warning for the beer if Eddie's in the van without the lunchbox).

Eddie's not the most athletic but he's gotta run. He tosses his lunchbox over the back fence before hauling himself up, one leg over and trying to get the other when he gets high-centered for a moment before gravity starts to pull him down (thankfully on the correct side of the fence) only to find the chain on his jeans catches along something at the top, leaving him to cling quickly to the fence, praying he can muster enough upper body strength to haul himself back up enough to unstick the chain before the cops get here. He tries to readjust and his hand slips, he can't get any leverage. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He's so screwed. Officer Callihan said if he was caught again, he'd be tried as an adult. Wayne's going to kill him. Why won't these stupid jeans just rip, how has the chain not given way yet? He's going to get caught with his lunchbox right at his feet. He's-

Being shoved back up, someone's shoulder digging painfully into his ribcage to get the leverage needed for Eddie's body to be high enough for the stranger's hand to sneak up and unstick the chain. Eddie expects to be dumped suddenly and unceremoniously on the ground but this does not happen. Instead, his mysterious hero manages to keep him pinned up on the fence long enough to turn themselves so both of the stranger's arms are under Eddie and then they kind of just... sink together, using the fence as a counterweight by leaning into but not actually dragging Eddie down against it.

The culmination of which ends with Eddie being held like some blushing bride in Steve Harrington's lap. Eddie opens his mouth to say... something. What, he doesn't know, but Harrington lifts a finger to his lips to signal him to be quiet. So, he stays quiet, heart pounding.

It takes about five full seconds before the sounds of the cops busting the party actually start, the sirens on the cars flipping on to let the scattering teens know they've been caught. In that same instance, Harrington sweeps up Eddie's lunch box and shoves it onto his chest, where one of Eddie's hands comes up to wrap around and hold it close on instinct, the sound the metal handle clanging on the metal lid meaningless in all the other sounds happening.

Using his other hand, Harrington basically folds Eddie forward and out of his lap, back on his own feet in a crouch. Harrington shoves his chin forward, a silent instruction to move but Eddie's still wrapping his head around the fact he's no longer dangling from a wooden fence like an idiot, so Harrington steps forward, a hand wrapping around the wrist of Eddie's free hand, forcing him to follow along as they stealth along the wooden fence of the Perkins' residence, then the fence of the neighbors, and finally a third neighbor before the fences run off and all that's left is the woods that boarder the town one way, and a way back to the road on the other.

Eddie should pull his wrist free and book it, run as fast and as far from Harrington and this party as he can get but he's kind of star struck right now (he can be a little honest with himself, as a treat). He just follows, lets Harrington jerk him around (don't even think it Munson, do not think about it-) and follows quietly.

Harrington peeks around the end of the fence, looking for any incoming trouble, Eddie assumes, and quickly jerks back, looking to Eddie, "you trust me, man?"

And Eddie, the idiot, says, "Yeah, man."

Harrington grabs his lunchbox, ripping it away from him with ease (Eddie's still star struck, okay?) and shoves it up against the fence, twisting his body as he does, so he ends up sitting with his back to this fence, body blocking sight of the lunchbox before pulling Eddie into his lap.

This is what brings Eddie back into his body. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Just don't punch me until I get the cop that's gonna round the fence any time now to go away."

Eddie could bolt but he's not particularly fast, so he'd be caught, and he knows the odds. Between himself and Harrington, they'll book him and let Harrington go with a warning. So, Harrington thinks he can get the cop to go away? Okay. He lets Harrington manhandle him (don't think it don'tthinkit don't-) He's absolutely thinking it because Harrington grabs his ass and pulls him flush against him before a hand cups the back of his head and shoves his face into Harrington's neck, and then Harrington whispers in his ear, "just pretend we've been making out back here for the last half hour."

Fuck! Harrington's trying to get him shot by the goddamn police. He is an idiot and should have known better than to trust him. Well. If Harrington thinks he can get away from this unscathed, he's sorely mistaken. Eddie lifts his hands to ruffle Harrington's perfect hair before gripping it roughly with one hand, the other moving to brace himself on the fence, then he latches onto Harrington's neck, intent on giving Harrington the biggest, ugliest hickie of his life. Try and explain that away you asshole.

Except Harrington's reaction isn't what Eddie had thought it would be. Instead of being shoved, the hands on his ass and in his hair squeeze, seemingly trying to get Eddie closer and that is definitely a moan his hears, breathed directly into his ear. It eggs Eddie on a bit, truthfully, so he pulls back a little, less set on just marking Harrington and a little more set on seeing if he can make Harrington actually enjoy it.

Eddie presses kisses over the bit of skin he'd just bit like a wild animal and runs his tongue up to gently pull at Harrington's earlobe, before kissing his way back down to suck at the same spot some more. Harrington keeps switching from squeezing at him to petting him and Eddie's not really going to complain. The police can come shoot him. He'll die- well, not happy but at least alright.

"Jesus Christ, kid!"

Eddie tries to jerk away, a reflex because that's Chief Hopper's voice and he's so fucking screwed, but Harrington keeps him moored there, face hidden, hand cradling his head more gently than it has been thus far, the hand on his ass moving up to his lower back, holding him closer... dare he say, protectively.

"Hopper," Harrington sounds more calm than Eddie thought he would, "hi."

Eddie wishes he could see what is happening because there is an awful lot of silence going on in which he can only assume Hopper and Harrington are staring at each other. (Having a silent conversation, perhaps?)

Then the heaviest sigh he's ever heard from Chief Hopper (and he's heard some heavy ones in his days) greets the air, "I don't want to know who that is. Just this once, I am going to pretend I didn't see you here. You'd think that you would learn- Next time you and your boyfriend sneak away from a party to- just go to his house. Jesus, if it had been anyone but me walking around this corner... Give it about twenty minutes before you leave." The sound of retreating footsteps and Hopper's voice reporting in his walkie an 'all clear' follow those words.

They don't part immediately. Eddie waits until the footsteps cannot be heard before pulling back. Harrington makes no move to remove his hands from Eddie's person, so as a result the hand that was in Eddie's hair falls to his shoulder, then his chest, where it rests now that he's back far enough to look at Harrington. The moon is bright, and Eddie's eyes have adjusted to the dark of the evening, so he can see Harrington's face. "How the fuck did that just work?"

Harrington gives an almost hysterical sounding giggle before he tries to drop his head back to rest on the fence. He can't successfully do that, because Eddie realizes he's still cradling Harrington's head with one hand.

He makes no motion to move his hand, just holds Harrington's head up as he seems to be going through... something right now.

It takes several minutes, but finally he speaks. "It's kinda personal. Let's just say, Hopper and I got history, a- well, a good history isn't how I'd put it, but like, we're on the same page with it."

"Did you fuck Hopper?"

Harrington laughs out loud and Eddie slaps his other hand (the one not currently petting his soft, soft hair) over his mouth to muffle the noise. That sobers Harrington a little, remembering the 'wait twenty minutes' thing and once it seems like he's got it together again, Eddie removes his hand.

"No. Nothing like that with Hopper."

Eddie's a bit hung up on that fact Harrington is not immediately shouting that he's not a fag and would never have slept with the chief of police, a man. "You're really not gonna tell me."

"No."

They just kind of look at each other after that. Eddie's not sure what to do now. He should get out of Harrington's lap, right? That's a thing he should definitely be doing right now.

But.

But Harrington isn't shoving him off. In fact, his eyes are half closed as he stares at Eddie, eyes occasionally flicking up to meet his own, so Eddie feels like he can confidently say King Steve is looking at his lips. Eddie licks his lips, a test of sorts.

Harrington passes, because his tongue flicks out to lick his own lips.

"Hey, Eddie," (what the fuck. Harrington has never, not once, said his name, and Eddie has re-introduced himself several times.) "I want to kiss you. Can I?"

Oh.

Eddie's never been asked that before.

Gross. Eddie's got fucking butterflies in his stomach from Steve fucking Harrington.

Eddie wants to say yes so fucking bad but- well, his whole world view of Steve Harrington has just been rocked and now a ball of guilt is forming inside him for how he's marked up Harrington's neck like a wanton slut and Harrington asks for a kiss. But Harrington is also, at minimum, five beers in plus the weed, so he's clearly not thinking straight (ha fucking ha) because he wouldn't be asking him for a kiss if he was.

"No," Eddie says softly, "you're drunk. If you still wanna kiss me in the daylight, ask then."

Harrington scrunches his face and Eddie doesn't know him well enough to decipher what that look means, but he nods, sitting up so he can lean forward and nuzzle his face into Eddie's chest, bumping the top of his head against Eddie's chin like a cat.

Eddie leans his head atop Harrington's and lets himself be cuddled.

What a weird fucking night.

-

"Jeff!" Eddie flings himself on his friend's couch the next day, face down in the cushions, his voice mumbled as he continues, "I don't know what to do."

Jeff, ever patient with Eddie, just folds his legs at the knee and sits on the couch, dropping his legs back down and into his lap. "The way I see it, you do nothing."

"Nothing?"

"You sound extra pathetic mumbling into the couch. Nothing. If Harrington wants to kiss you, he'll ask again. If he doesn't, or tries to turn this on you, remind him he's the one that let another boy mark him up. You don't know if you can trust him."

Eddie musters all his strength to turn his head to the side so he can breath again. "You're right. As usual."

"Try not to sound so annoyed and disappointed."

"I should trust the Munson doctrine. If it's too good to be true, then it's not true," Eddie says as he wiggles forward, out of Jeff's lap and onto his knees, shuffling around until he's sitting cross-legged on the center cushion.

"Maybe, maybe not. Like, we know Harrington's an asshole but he's not mean," Jeff says. "besides, maybe being dumped by Nancy Wheeler for Jonathan Byers might have shaken some decency into him. Humility, even."

Suppose they'll learn if that's true tomorrow. "You can't tell anyone what I told you."

"Duh. Blackmail only works if the leverage you have is still a secret."

-

“Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Brian all look up at the same time. Harrington isn't even holding a lunch tray, hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket, striped polo tucked into light wash jeans under his opened jacket, Eddie's hickie only half hidden by the polo's collar.

Eddie's eyes scan the cafeteria quickly. Hawkins is a small town, so it stands to reason the schools are too. There are literal, completely empty tables. So, Eddie's eyes go to the table Harrington usually sits at.

Ah.

Everyone there is looking over. Watching. Waiting, probably. This is the trick. The joke. If Eddie lets him sit, they've pegged him for the desperate fag they all tell him he is.

"'Fraid this table is full, too," Eddie says, careful to sound bored as he says it, looking directly at Harrington.

Harrington's eyes widen slightly, like he hadn't expected Eddie to deny him. Well, joke backfired, buddy.

"I.... see," Harrington says slowly. "My mistake."

And they all watch him leave with such little fanfare that Eddie's wondering if he misread the situation. Was Harrington actually wanting to sit with them- but no. He watches as Harrington returns to his table, to the royalty of Hawkins High. Hagan says something to him and Harrington just shrugs with one shoulder before plopping onto the bench.

They wait for Harrington to start up conversation, for the leering and mocking to start up but it doesn't. Harrington just sits there in silence.

"What... was that?" Gareth asks, looking away from the Royalty to look at Eddie.

"Got no idea," Eddie lies, even as Jeff is leveling him with a look he refuses to acknowledge.

-

November 7th, 1984

Harrington was absent yesterday (not that Eddie keeps track) and now here Harrington is, slinking into the American History class they share for first period, face busted to shit. Eddie does a double take because he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him but no. Harrington looks worse than when Jonathan got him.

Eddie spends the first twenty minutes of class just watching Harrington. Harrington slides into his chair and keeps his head down, eyes closed most of the time. Every now and then he winces and drops his head into his hands, palms digging into eyes. He looks bad.

Then Harrington goes a little green around the gills and looks like he's forcing himself to swallow down vomit and Eddie's done watching the sad display. "Hey, Miss Click, I think Harrington's gonna lose his breakfast all over the back of Thompson if he doesn't get outta here soon."

Miss Click looks like she's gonna give him detention again but then she looks at Harrington and must agree with his assessment. "Help him to the nurses office, Eddie."

Normally Eddie would argue but Harrington is also looking at him now and he really wants to know what happened so instead of arguing, he stands. Harrington does, too, grabbing his bag from the floor and shuffling towards the door.

The halls are empty and Steve makes it maybe ten feet down the hall before he falls against the lockers, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Come on, Harrington," Eddie grabs his backpack from him and shoulders it, then pulls one of Harrington's arms around him. "Just keep your eyes closed. I won't walk you into any walls."

"Thanks."

It's so quiet, Eddie's not sure he was even meant to hear it. They walk in silence a bit more before Eddie asks, "so, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, sure. Nothing causes this all the time."

"What'd'ya care."

Fair. That's fair. He shut Harrington down quickly at the beginning of the year. And Eddie's had plenty of time to concede it might have been the wrong thing to do. Harrington really wasn't setting him up to be a joke, or a punching bag, because if he had been, Eddie would have been jumped by now. Especially since it's fairly common knowledge that Harrington has fallen from grace, replaced by Billy Hargrove. A whole asshole and a half, that one.

They're silent all the way to nurse and even after Harrington vanishes behind the door, Eddie loiters in the hall. He doesn't care about getting back to class. Whatever is happening with Harrington is so much more important.

Another period later and Harrington is shoving himself through the door, even as the nurse protests behind him.

"I'll be fine, really. I'm sure my mom's not answering because she's not near the phone. There's no need to worry," Harrington catches sight of Eddie then. He looks surprised, but says to the nurse, "Eddie here will drive me home. I promise I won't be driving with a concussion."

She looks past Harrington to Eddie and he finds himself nodding frantically. The nurse, not paid enough to argue with teenagers, nods back and Harrington escapes back into the hall without argument.

"You need a ride?"

"I can drive myself."

"Absolutely not. You just said you were concussed."

Harrington looks like he wants to argue more but before he can, he folds a bit into himself, hands pressing into eyes again.

"Look, I owe you anyway, alright. Let me repay."

There's a long silence, then, "okay."

Eddie walks into Gareth's third period class and deposits the keys to his van to him with instructions to pick him up from Harrington's after school (Jeff is his best friend, but Gareth is the safer driver) before helping Harrington limp his way to his own car, where he hands over his keys very forlornly and climbs into his car. Eddie takes the driver's seat and they're off.

"You gonna give me directions, Harrington?"

"You've been to my house before."

This is true. He just didn't know Harrington remembered that. Hagan had invited Eddie to deal there, once; Harrington himself, twice. He didn't know Harrington had even remembered he was there. "Didn't know you remembered that."

"You've been to my house four times."

"Three."

Harrington lull his head to the side to squint (is he trying to glare?) at Eddie. "Four."

Four? Eddie didn't remember- oh. Harrington's ninth birthday party. Eddie was invited, one of the few who hadn't been in Harrington's class to get an invitation. He was in fifth grade, Harrington in fourth. It was shortly after Wayne had brought him to Hawkins.

"Your birthday party. Why'd you even invite me to that?"

Harrington doesn't answer.

-

"I thought you said your mom was home," Eddie says as he follows Harrington into his house.

"I lied."

"Clearly," Eddie says, looking around as he continues to follow Harrington upstairs.

Harrington just allows it, which Eddie wants to question but won't because he's working out how to apologize for the first day of school without apologizing.

"If you're here alone, who's waking you up to make sure you aren't dead?"

"No one. And clearly, I am not dead."

"Someone's supposed to wake you every few hours, right?"

Harrington shrugs. "Don't need anyone to. Why, were you gonna offer?"

Was he? No. Maybe. He follows him all the way to his plaid hellscape of a room, watches as Harrington flicks on his light, then tries to block the sunlight with his sad curtains and gives up quickly, opting to toe himself out of his shoes and crawl under his covers instead.

It's fucking pathetic.

Eddie leaves Harrington's room to start opening and closing doors around the upstairs. Rich people always have a- yes! A linen closet. Eddie pulls out the darkest towels and heads back to Harrington's room.

"You got tacks or nails or safety pins?"

Harrington pokes his head out from beneath his covers, squinting at Eddie. "Tacks in the cup on the dresser." then he disappears again. Quite an awfully lot of freedom Harrington seems to be giving him. He could be snooping through things.

He doesn't, though (yet). He uses almost all of the tacks to get the towels to stay up, but no sunlight breaches them when he's done. Then he turns off the light and closes the door, leaving it open just a crack, before sitting himself on the edge of Harrington's bed.

"I owe you an apology, Harrington," Eddie finds himself saying. Fuck. He was trying to do this without having to actually do it. Too late now.

"Oh," he hears in the near darkness Harrington's surprise, feels shuffling as Harrington must be moving to look at him. "Erm, why do you think you owe me an apology."

"For the first day of school. I thought- I thought it was a prank. Or a joke. A cruel one."

Eddie turns to see Harrington peering at him, just his nose and up visible, hair a static ruffled mess, the comforter held in place by one hand. "It wasn't."

"I know that now," Eddie whispers, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. "I just- I'm sorry. I did want you to sit."

Silence. Then, "I get it, Eddie. I wouldn't trust me either."

"I said I trusted you, that night," Eddie says, "and I did. I do? I think... I didn't trust myself, I think, enough to believe that you were truly being genuine with me. I was shitty to you. So, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Harrington says, "I'm gonna go to sleep now, my head is killing me. If you're hungry help yourself to whatever you can find in the kitchen. You're missing lunch period."

"You gonna sleep in your jeans?"

"Too much work to remove 'em," Harrington mumbles.

"Undo your belt and jeans."

"How forward," Harrington has an eyebrow raised.

"Just do it, ya tool," Eddie says with more bravado than he feels. He slides off the bed and watches the comforter shift as Harrington does as he's told. Eddie rounds to the end of the bed, pulling up the comforter and reaching under blind, finding Harrington's legs and trailing up to his knees to grasp of the jeans. "For your modesty. Lift your hips." Harrington does, and Eddie pulls. Harrington drops his hips back down once the jeans are near his knees, lifting his legs slightly instead, allowing Eddie to pull them off and drop them on the floor at the end of the bed. "Alright, sleep it off, Harrington."

Eddie leaves him to wander to the kitchen because he is hungry and missing lunch, and this free food is going to be infinitely better than whatever the cafeteria was offering simply because it's free.

The fridge has some leftovers in it, so Eddie helps himself to leftover chicken and mashed potatoes. He eats it standing in the kitchen.

Once done, he explores Castle Harrington. A big kitchen leads to a dining room, which rounds to a large living room with a wall of windows that lookout to the pool. Eddie's familiar with the backyard, where he'd station up and wait for people to buy. There's a little hall that leads from the living room to the stairs and front door, with another hall alone the middle of the wall there. It leads to a bathroom and a rec room, complete with pool table (fucking rich people) and another door farther still. It's locked but Eddie's a snoop, so he flips the latch and opens. It's an empty garage.

Eddie ends up removing his shoes, denim vest, and leather jacket, flopping down on Harrington's couch to channel surf, though his eyes keep flicking down to his watch. At the one-hour mark he sneaks back up to Harrington's room and looks for signs of life. Easy enough, Harrington snores.

He checks each hour. Eventually Gareth shows up, signaling his arrival with three sharp jabs to the horn of Eddie's van. Eddie heads out without putting anything back on.

"I'm staying. Harrington is not- it's not good, dude," Eddie says. "Looks like he got beat worse than I did when took a chance behind The Hideout."

Gareth's eyes go wide. Eddie'd gotten beaten for being gay (a busted lip and bruised ribs; would have been worse if the owner of The Hideout hadn't been stepping out back to smoke and ended up chasing away Eddie's assailant). "What happened?"

Eddie shrugs. "Don't know. But I gotta find out. I think he was being genuine with us, on the first day of school. I feel like I have to make sure he's okay."

Jeff leans forward to peer around Gareth from the passenger seat. "You feeling guilty, Munson?"

This is a conversation they've had several times. One Eddie never wins. "Well, yeah. If I'd let him be our friend, he might not have been wherever he was when he got the shit beat out of him. Might have been watching us at band practice or something instead."

Gareth makes a gagging noise. "Ew. You've got it so bad for Harrington. Polos? That's what gets you hot and bothered?"

Eddie feels his face go red. "Fuck off."

"Don't fuck up this time, Eddie," Jeff says before sitting back out of view.

"Call if you need a ride to school tomorrow," Gareth says before reversing out of Harrington's driveway.

Eddie waits until Harrington's gotten a full eight hours (most of which he spends snooping about the place) before going to wake him up. "Hey, you gotta get some food in you, I think. Up, up."

Harrington groans, but it sounds more annoyed than pained.

"Up, up, up, up," Eddie repeats, swatting lightly at Harrington's legs, occasionally grabbing to jiggle a leg.

"'m up. I'm up," Harrington says, sounding more like himself than he has all day. "Have you always been this annoying?"

"Call it the Munson Charm."

"Charm," Harrington repeats flatly.

"I already ate your mashed potatoes, so I'm hoping you're not wanting those for dinner. Lunch? Whatever."

Harrington throws the covers off, standing before Eddie in a polo shirt and plaid boxers. "Hey, Eddie. It's still daytime out there, yeah?"

"Yeah, didn't miss it."

"Cool, cool. Can I kiss you?"

Eddie freezes, remembering that's what he'd told Harrington to do. Ask him in the daylight. He does still want to kiss Harrington, but also, he's afraid. "First you ask drunk. Now you ask concussed. Still a no, buddy. It's gotta be daylight and without anything that could be messing with your mind."

Harrington takes the rejection well, just nods an okay and motions towards his door for Eddie to lead the way to the kitchen.

Harrington opts for a TV dinner, offering one to Eddie. He accepts, because, again, free food. Then they eat them at the dinner table like it's a real meal, instead of off of TV trays in the living room like normal people.

And the odd thing about it all is how not odd all of it is, actually. The last time they were alone together, Eddie ravished his neck like a goddamn vampire. And now they're just hanging out, chatting ideally like it's a thing they do all the time.

Eddie can see why Harrington became popular so quickly. He's easy to like when he's like this, soft spoken and kind. Eddie finds he wants to know if the guy sitting across from him is the real Harrington, or an act. Or was King Harrington the act? Eddie really hasn't known him enough to say that but he's seen this house. Conformity seems important to the Harringtons.

"You looked like you could use something to cheer you up," Harrington says, out of left field.

"What?"

"It's why I invited you to my ninth birthday. You'd just transferred to our school. Looked so sad all the time. Eight-year-old me hadn't experienced a sad birthday party, so I thought it would cheer you up."

Oh. "That's-" what is that? Sweet? Considerate in a way Eddie didn't think young Harrington possible of? "It worked. Your party was fun."

Harrington smiles at him, a soft and shy thing that makes the butterflies erupt in his stomach again. "Well, thanks for watching over me today. Made it easier to sleep, having someone else in the house."

"Anytime."

"You mean that?"

Does he? Eddie can't promise even himself that it will always be true, that he does really mean anytime, but it's true right now so he says, "yeah, man."

-

Being friends with Steve Harrington is so much easier than Eddie thought it could be.

Steve -because he's Steve now, not Harrington- doesn't come back to school the rest of the week, but he makes Eddie go, asking if he can gather his homework from his classes so he won't fall behind. And school has never been a real priority for Eddie (it is his second senior year) but hanging out with Steve has become important.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian even come over on Saturday evening, at Steve's insistence. He wants to be their friend, too, it seems. And what an odd thing to see, his friends and Steve lounging around his rec room, Brian beating all of them at pool so easily it should be humiliating. Steve chats with them all like it's easy, normal, a thing he enjoys doing.

He can see his friends keeping the topics safe, music, high school gossip, they even start to discuss their grades. Eddie is mostly listening because he's been chatting with Steve all week, so he can see his friends are steering clear of anything other. They don't bring up anything Steve wouldn't talk to other jocks about.

Leave it to Steve to throw them for a loop. "Hey, you guys are all in Hellfire, right?"

The room screeches to a stop, all eyes going to Steve. He's not sure what's showing on his own face, but he can see all his friend's faces. They look surprised.

"Yeah," Jeff finds his voice first. "We're the only members."

Steve nods, "right. You play Dungeons and Dragons?"

"You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?" Brian asks.

"Yeah," Steve shrugs, fiddling with the beer can in his hands, "I know that, it's like -Hellfire, that is-, a high school club but- oh, this is gonna sound bad. I can tell already."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, curious, "just say it, Harrington. If we don't like it, there's four of us and one of you. We'll give you a swirlee in your own damn toilet."

Steve laughs and that seems to be all the push he needed because he relaxes, setting the beer down on a coaster, "I know some super cool kids who'll be freshman next year. I think they'd really want to be in your club. But, uh, since Eddie and I will be graduating this year, I was wondering if you'd want to move your game from the school to here? So they can join in."

Eddie's brain shuts off. Steve knows some cool middle schoolers, who play Dungeons and Dragons, and thinks the should all come to Steve's house to do that. Play DnD together. (Steve also believes he's going to graduate this year, ha!)

"I'm sorry," Jeff says, laughter in his voice, "there's no such things as cool middle schoolers."

Steve frowns slightly, "well, these will be the first, then. They've got their own DM, his name's Will, but I think he could learn a lot from Eddie. And Dustin loves this game so much. But if they wait until next year to officially join the club, Eddie won't be there."

Steve knows that Eddie is the DM. Steve knows what a DM is. (Steve really believes he's going to graduate this year?). "How- what? How do you even know about Hellfire? Or that I'm the DM?"

"I go to school with you guys," Steve says, "I know I'm an asshole but I'm not oblivious. Just because I didn't acknowledge the existence of your club before now doesn't mean I was unaware of it."

Fair point.

"Alright. Let's have our next club meeting here instead of the school. You can bring these cool middle schoolers and we'll see. If they're just lame middle schoolers, we're going to be very disappointed."

"Great! You meet Thursdays, right? They'll be here."

-

Monday is the real test. Eddie's feeling some kind of way about Monday. It's lunch, and everyone is already at their usual tables except Steve, who hasn't arrived yet.

Jeff catches his eye and Eddie can see he's thinking the same thing. It was easy to be friends with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson behind closed doors and in front of people already his friend. But if Steve actually comes through those doors and sits at their table, he'll be a target. Fully and officially.

Of course, Eddie catches sight of Steve as soon as he does come in, sack lunch in hand. He watches as Steve doesn't even hesitate. He weaves his way around other teens and plops down at their table, into the space left available for him between Eddie and Gareth. Watches as Steve beams at him before pulling a fucking pb&j out of his stupid brown sack.

Eddie can hear the murmuring around them, catches Steve's name and his own, knows that they've all been noticed today. The outcome of what will happen because of this, unknown.

Eddie doesn't like the unknown.

He might be willing to face it, though, if Steve keeps smiling at him.

-

The week passes. No one says anything to him. Steve sits at their table every day.

Thursday comes and he gets to meet some pretty cool middle schoolers, though unexpected ones. Will, the DM, turns out to be Will Byers, who was dead and then not dead and also the little brother of the guy who beat Steve up and stole his girlfriend (what the hell sparked this kids friendship with Steve?). Mike Wheeler, little brother of said ex-girlfriend. Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson are the last two. Eddie has never heard of these two, and therefore doesn't have any opinions just yet.

The kids know their stuff but they don't end up playing. Character creation takes some time, and Eddie's gotta think about how to incorporate four new characters (he was expecting one lame middle schooler, even though Steve had used the plural of kid every time he talked about them).

Before they all head out, Steve asks to talk to Eddie.

"Hey, I just- if the kids get into other after school activities, would you be okay with moving the date of the club meeting? My house is available every day, not just school days."

What an odd request. "I guess? Why?"

Steve shrugs (but it's a shrug Eddie has come to know doesn't mean 'I don't know' and means something closer to 'I have a perfectly valid explanation for this but don't know how to put it into words so it's easier to say I don't know') and says, "some school activities can't be rescheduled. It's be kinda shitty to make them miss this by forcing them to chose."

"There's a story there. I want to know it."

Steve looks at him, open in a way that Eddie hasn't experienced. "I want to tell you. But I'm not ready for that. Not yet. Now, go home and do your damn homework. I gotta drop these kids off."

-

December 21st, 1984 - Christmas Break

"I can't believe you did Dustin's hair for their Snowball dance," Eddie says as they watch Jeff, Gareth, Brian, Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin pile into Eddie's van after a rare, afternoon meeting of Hellfire. Gareth offered to take everyone home (maybe Eddie had to beg him to do it so he could stay and bother Steve, but that's between him and Gareth).

"He deserves a good older role model. I try to be that person," Steve says, and before Eddie can mock him for being egotistical, he continues, "that's why I wanted them to meet you, I guess, back in November. Dustin deserves a role model who understands the things he likes. Dustin needs you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that, so he just walks to the living room, grabbing the remote and settling in on the couch. Steve joins him shortly, sitting next to him rather than at the other end of the couch.

"You finish your homework?"

"Oh my god, mom," Eddie rolls his whole head dramatically, "no. I'll get it done eventually."

"Eddie," Steve says, sounding serious. Eddie turns to him, and Steve reaches out, grabbing one of Eddies hands, slotting their fingers together and Eddie feels those damn butterflies he's so used to these days. "I want to graduate with you. We can have a joint graduation party here. But that can't happen if you don't do your homework."

Eddie looks at Steve, feeling more seen than he's ever been in his life. His hand clutches back at Steve's. "Yeah. Okay. I'll graduate with you. Class of '85."

"Joint party?"

This is Eddie's chance to ask the question he's been itching to ask. "Your parent's won't mind you sharing with the resident freak?"

"My parents won't be here. They send me a card with a letter to take to their local accountant, who will arrange for a graduation cake to be delivered on a date of my choosing and give me money to host whatever kinda party I want. And what I want, is a joint party."

"You sound so sure of that."

"I am," Steve says, looking away to stare towards the TV, "I know the exact date they'll be in town between now and April 1986."

The fact Steve says 'date' and not 'dates' is not lost on Eddie. "When's that?"

"May 28th, 1985."

Eddie studies the side of his face, looking for any hint of a joke. "How do you know that?"

"Would you believe me if I said it's because I'm actually twenty-one, and have already lived through these events, and by some miracle was sent back into the body of my 17-year-old self to try and stop something terrible from happening?"

Eddie hits him with a throw pillow. He'll get the truth out of him one day.

-

May 3rd, 1985

Eddie graduates with Steve. It was fucking hell making it happen, but Steve recruited Nancy Wheeler to help tutor them both. (Eddie thought he'd be jealous, but Steve really isn't into Nancy anymore. They'd chat, he'd ask about Jonathan even, but most importantly, he'd always sat closer to Eddie than Nancy).

All of Hellfire is invited to their graduation party, his Uncle Wayne, too, along with the entire Byer's family, Chief Hopper and his daughter, Max Mayfield, and Robin Buckley. Most of these people aren't a surprise to Eddie by the time the party comes around but meeting them and learning that Steve considers this odd group of people his family was a surreal thing when it was happening.

(The real surprise person is Robin Buckley, who Steve had tried to befriend briefly during January but quickly backed out of doing that when he saw how weirded out it made Buckley. Buckley does not show to their joint graduation party but everyone else does.)

Steve and his uncle get along well and it makes some deep part of Eddie warm and fuzzy. Wayne was initially distrustful of Steve (rightfully so, given Eddie's history with jocks, and that he might have complained, loudly and often, about Steve to his uncle before. Hard to backtrack that.)

But Steve had shown up one day, asking to speak to Wayne instead of Eddie. Wayne had said yes, and then they both climbed into Wayne's pickup and went God knows where because Wayne and Eddie both know if they'd stayed on the property, Eddie would have done his best to eavesdrop.

Upon return, Steve had given Wayne a hug, hopped in his own car, and left.

Neither will tell him what they talked about, the jerks.

But all that to say, they're here, the sliding-glass door that leads to Steve's backyard wide open as people freely move from the inside to the outside and back. His friends, Steve's friends, their friends mingling easily. Hopper and Wayne chat, Jonathan and Gareth are hucking kids into the pool (at their request), Nancy is talking with Jeff and Brian, and Steve is standing at Eddie's side, holding a plate and eating cake (chocolate with raspberry filling, Eddie's favorite).

Steve spends a lot his time at Eddie's side.

Eddie expected Steve to be tired of him by now. To give up. But he hasn't. Every now and then, he still asks if he can kiss Eddie. And Eddie keeps saying no. Always an excuse, always a reason. It's been fucking with Eddie's head because he doesn't understand how Steve can be so willing, and wanting, to kiss another guy. Especially since the guy he wants to his is Eddie Munson!

Steve doesn't always ask when they're alone. He's asked when other people at this party are around, but always too quiet to be heard, like he's protecting Eddie's secret but doesn't care if people know his own. A little part of Eddie was mad at him about it; Steve's never been beaten up for being queer which probably makes it easier to be open about it.

In fact, Steve had asked him just this morning as they put their graduation gowns on over their regular clothes in the school parking lot.

"Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"No. Why are you so eager to get beat up?"

"I'm not scared of these people, Eds," Steve says with that damn shrug.

"You should be! This town'll try and kill you for being a fag," Eddie spits out, memories of Hagan, Jackson, Hargrove, the man from The Hideout, all come back to him.

"I've seen Hell, and I'm not afraid of a single person in this town," Steve says, voice cold and Eddie used to doubt that, but they've been friends for months now and Eddie's seen the nail bat he keeps in the trunk of his car, and been there when Steve's woken up screaming. Steve doesn't talk about it and Eddie hasn't pushed but this is- hearing this is the most direct Steve's ever been about it. Whatever the fuck it was.

"Tell me about it," Eddie finds himself say. "You've seen Hell?"

This brings Steve back to himself it seems, because he looks shocked by Eddie's words even though Steve said them first. "Not today. Today, we graduate!"

So, they've graduated, they've partied, and now, Eddie has questions.

"Hey, Steve, follow me," Eddie says and heads back into the house. He doesn't look back, doesn't need to to know Steve is following. He goes up the stairs and into Steve's room, waiting for Steve to enter before closing the door behind him.

"Want to get me alone, Munson?" Steve asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah. I want to know about Hell."

Steve drops onto the edge of his bed like a stone. He can see the war going on in Steve's head. He can wait this out. He leans back against the door, a confirmation for Steve that he's not going to give up on this easy.

"Eds, you didn't believe me before. I don't- I don't want to lose you if you don't believe me again."

Again? Eddie would have remembered if Steve had told him anything about Hell. "Trust me, then. Trust that I'm not going to leave just because I don't believe what you say."

"Okay," Steve says. "You asked, back in December, how I knew when I'd be seeing my parents again. Remember?"

Eddie thinks before wrinkling his nose and saying, "Yeah. Time travel."

"Yeah. Like Back to the Future but- shit. That's not out yet. But yeah, time travel. Sorta? I don't know. Maybe I didn't travel through time and instead just had a vision of the future. Or a prophetic dream. Or whatever."

Eddie is less leaning against the door, and more using it for support now. "The fuck, Harrington? You weren't joking about that? You really believe that?"

"Yeah. And I got a majority of the people in my backyard to believe me, so I'm hoping I can convince you, too. And if-if I lose you. If you think I'm crazy, or a liar, or whatever, it's better that I lose you this way than-" Steve cuts himself off, a choked sob following those words. Never, not once, has Eddie seen Steve cry, but he's seeing it now. Crying, over the mere thought of losing Eddie. Because Eddie isn't gone, he's here in this room with Steve, and still Steve cries.

"Hey, hey, shh," Eddie shoves off the door to drop to his knees before him, hands going up to cup his face. "I'm here. You're not losing me because I'm here."

Steve nods, cheeks rubbing against Eddie's palms before Steve's hands come up to grip loosely at Eddie's wrists, Steve leaning in to rest his forehead against Eddie's. He takes a shaky breath in before he speaks. "I've already changed the future. In that other timeline, the bad one, you didn't graduate this year. You don't meet Dustin or Mike or Lucas until next year. I'm so fucking jealous of you because I think Dustin like you better than me because you understand the things he likes and I don't. You never got to meet Will, the Byers' had already moved to California by the time the kids are Freshman."

Eddie stays quiet, waits, closes his own eyes to just hear Steve.

"There's another world, Dustin says it's another dimension. I don't know enough about how it all works but we call it the Upside Down. There are monster there, the Demogorgon and Demodogs, and later, Demobats and Vecna."

"Vecna and Demogorgon at from Dungeons and Dragons."

"I know. These things had no name until we had to fight them. The kids named the Demogorgon. You and Dustin name Vecna. Now shush."

Eddie nods against Steve's forehead and listens to the impossible. Will being stuck in the Upside Down, a girl with superpowers, how Steve got involved, that Steve returned to a body that had fought the Demogorgon but the Demodogs hadn't happened yet. That he and Nancy break up because Steve knows both their hearts belong to others (Eddie's insides twist because he's sure that Steve is hinting that his heart belongs to Eddie but that's for later in the story).

Steve talks about going to Carol Perkins' party because he'd heard Eddie was going to be there. He doesn't know how the events go before this timeline because Steve hadn't gone to that party last timeline. He'd been with Nancy still, then.

He talks about how Hopper was the first person he told about the timeline change, because if anyone could prove he was telling the truth, it was El. Hopper hadn't believed him but it had built enough of a trust that Hopper was willing to let them go at the party.

He talks about the events that led to the concussion he'd got, that sparked their friendship fully. How he'd gotten it protecting those kids from Billy Hargrove. Burning down a pumpkin patch.

"You said you were twenty-one," Eddie says, when Steve stops talking. "That would make the year 1986? '87?. What happens next?"

Steve shakes his head. "I can't- there are things I can't say. Can't talk about yet because if I change the timeline too much, Vecna could win. And I can't-he cannot-I-"

"Shh, shhh," Eddie soothes, "no, you don't have to tell me. Thank you, for sharing this with me. I do... I have a question."

"Mmm?"

"How do I play into this. Why did you decide to be my friend now?"

"To change the future. In March of '86, you get- the Upside Down shit effects your life, too. We trauma bond and- I realized that I wish I had known you better. Sooner. We had one week together and honestly, I spent most of it pining after my ex. It took a while, but I realized I will always love Nance, but I wasn't in love with her. But that realization came after it was too late for us-" Steve cuts off, sobbing.

Eddie doesn't know what happened. Isn't sure he wants to. That's a timeline that's already lost forever. For it to come true, it requires him to be in high school and he's not. "Hey, it's okay. We're okay. We're going to stay okay."

They stay there, close, until Steve is calm again and ready to rejoin the party.

"Hey. Any chance I can see El move something with her mind?"

"Yeah. Gonna have to wait until your side of the family leaves, though. It's still fragile, who knows and who doesn't."

His side of the family. Like- Eddie cannot think on that too long or he's going to combust. "Can't wait to see."

Eddie does get to see. Steve pulls El aside as the party winds down and whispers in her ear. A little while later, while Eddie is the only one outside for his smoke break, his cigarette gets pulled from his mouth and flung into the pool. He jumps, because Jesus Christ, but a quick look towards the house shows him Steve, arms crossed and smiling, with El, arm extended towards Eddie still.

He can't find himself to be mad about the cigarette when El smiles at him.

-

Steve is already cooking breakfast when Eddie emerges from the guest room the morning after graduation. He'd been invited to share Steve's bed (just to sleep, Steve had sworn) but Eddie had to decline because he wasn't sure he could trust himself.

"Morning," Eddie says, draping himself boldly against Steve's back to look over his shoulder as he fries up hashbrowns. Steve doesn't even hesitate to lean back against Eddie.

"Morning."

"Put that down and turn around for a moment," Eddie steps back and Steve obeys, setting the wooden spoon he'd been pushing hashbrowns around with down, turning to lean himself against the counter rather than stay in front of the stove.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to report that I am suffering no hang over effects. You?"

"None," Steve says, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Good, good. Didn't fall out of bed and concuss myself either. Same for you I assume?"

"Same."

Eddie thinks Steve is starting to understand, if the little surprised face he does is anything to go by. "And I can't help but notice the daylight out that window. You see the daylight?"

Steve gives him a lopsided grin. "I do see it. Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"Yes."

They meet in the middle. For a kiss that's been a long time coming, it's so gentle. Steve cups his face like he's made of glass and Eddie should be annoyed by that but he's not. It just makes him feel safe.

Feel loved.

They break for air but don't go far from each other.

"I don't know what the future holds, unlike you," Eddie says, because he's a cheeky boy, "but I do know that no matter what it brings I'm here. You can't get rid of me now."

Steve looks conflicted, "not even if I asked you to go? For your safety? Even if it's to save you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Babe, you've already saved me. You've already changed the course of my life." He clocks the way Steve's eyes darken when he calls him babe. "I'm gonna make sure I've changed yours for the better, too."

Steve hauls him back in by his shoulders. They kiss and kiss and kiss until the smell of burning hashbrowns ruins the mood.

Eddie doesn't know what horrors await (no one but Steve does) but they'll face those together.

[unnerving-presence]

Oh I finally have an idea for a request.

Headcanons of The Oni, Ghostface, Michael and Frank getting brutaly killed by the survivor reader because they were fed up with being the hunted one. To the point were the entity doesn't let the reader in trials anymore

this is by far the coolest idea i’ve ever seen thank you for requesting anon!

i’m gonna guess reader isn’t dating them because i imagine that they would rather talk to them about it then… kill them lol.

i’m don’t know how to write murdering people in a cool way because i don’t murder people so i’m sorry if this isn’t that good 💀

this is quite a long chapter, so be aware

Kazan Yamaoka/The Oni:

The last thing he ever expected a survivor to do to him was kill him. He thought that nobody would dare oppose him, considering his large stature and deadly equipment. Though it seemed he was wrong.

He’s very surprised at first. His careless grip on his sword allowing you to easily knock it out of his grasp and take it for yourself. He makes a mental note to never make a stupid move like that again.

He may have had his kanabo, but he couldn’t grab it fast enough as you quickly slashed and stabbed at his body, slicing tendons and breaking skin. It’s obvious you didn’t know how to properly use a katana, but somehow your blind rage made it hurt all the worse.

It was like when he died all over again. Like the mob surrounding him again. Beating him, stabbing him, calling him names. And it seemed you knew exactly where to make it hurt also. Even reopening wounds. It’s quite pathetic that’s he’s dying like this, he thinks. All because he underestimated a survivor and let them catch him off guard.

After the Entity revives him from the dead, he gets quite angry that he even let a survivor lay a finger on him. He takes the time that he has alone to go thoroughly trash his realm. Crushing statues, ripping the foundations off some of the shrines. He messed it up so badly that he had to go to his granddaughters realm so the Entity could fix his up.

He seeks you out after finding that you’re not even allowed in trials anymore. As much as he wants to, he knows he can’t kill you outside of trials. So he takes you to Rin’s realm with him so he can talk with you about why you did what you did.

He can’t speak much english or really understand it, so he has Rin do the talking for him. After you tell him why, he sort of understands. He was like that at some point in his life. Tired of being targeted and treated like an animal. Just don’t do that shit again and you guys will be on pretty good terms. Hes still kind of angry at you though

Michael Myers/The Shape:

It takes a lot to kill someone like him. He’s not an easy target. He’s been burned, beat, shot, stabbed, bit. He’s been through it all, so when you manage to get your hands on something sharp, Michael didn’t really think much of it. How greatly he underestimated you.

He’s not one to visibly show emotion, but damn can you tell that he is angry. How can a shard of glass do this much to him? Why can’t he move his arms? What are you doing to him?

You stab every place you possibly could. His wrists, his neck, his arms, his stomach. Pretty much everywhere. You even stab his eye. The good one i mean. Until you know he’s dead, you’re not stopping your attacks.

He puts up quite a fight, managing to get his hand around your neck before you can stab it. He can’t really do much though, most of his limbs aren’t even functional at this point from how much you’ve stabbed them.

When he’s sent back to his realm alive and well, he quickly seeks you out. He’s going to make you suffer, no matter what the Entity says. Unfortunately the Entity says he can’t hurt you outside of trials. That’s not really stopping Michael though.

Definitely tries choking you to death the second he sees you but a quick stab in the arm from the Entity makes him rethink his actions. Now he just sort of.. stares at you. He probably doesn’t stop until he’s taken into another trial just to make you uncomfortable. Yeah he’s petty like that.

He can only assume that you’re not allowed in trials since he never even sees you in them anymore. This makes him ever the more angry since he can’t even kill you back. He forever holds a grudge against you. Prepared to be stalked from afar until Michael decides to stop being a petty bitch.

Ghostface/Danny Johnson:

I guess this is what he gets for being cocky all the time huh? He’s pretty confident in himself and thought this ‘game’ was well played on his part. The Entity even granted him the favor of killing a survivor. Until he was the one that was being killed.

He does give you a few punches and tries to get you under him, but a quick slash to his abdomen has him on the ground, holding himself up with one hand and desperately trying to search for his knife with the other. Damn it, you have it don’t you?

It takes more to kill him than you thought, but he’s not as tough as most killers. Finally thrusting the knife in through his neck quickly puts him out of his misery. Knowing he’s dead doesn’t stop you from stabbing him a few more times in his chest though.

Apparently he hadn’t studied you as much as he should’ve. He’s very impressed, he has to admit, but he’s been humiliated. In his eyes he has atleast. Looks like he needs to put you in your place and show you who the real killer is here.

Though finding out soon after that you haven’t been seen in any of the other killers trials, he sort of pissed. He can’t even get payback! He’ll probably whine to the Entity about it though he knows she won’t listen.

He’ll keep his distance for now. He’s sort of embarrassed that you, a puny survivor has killed him, a killer. It doesn’t sit right in his head and he’ll probably get a laugh or two if he tells the other killers so he just keeps it to himself.

Still pissed though. If he ever sees you wandering around he might insult you a bit but it’s all he can really do. I wouldn’t get too close though. He might have the courage to give you a stab in the chest if he’s feeling rebellious.

Frank Morrison/The Legion:

I imagine it goes how his mori would. He would try to swing at you but misses as you quickly duck to avoid the attack. He manages to stab your arm as you shove him back. Unlucky for him, his grip loosened on the knife and was now deep into your arm.

The pain didn’t seem to stop you from yanking the knife out of your arm, and giving him a taste of his own medicine, stabbing him in the shoulder and throwing him to the ground. Before he even has a chance to recover, you’re on top of him dragging the knife through his stomach before ripping his mask off and impaling him straight through his mouth.

He doesn’t have much of a chance to fight back. Your anger far surpassing his, caring about nothing more than making him suffer. In the little time he has to think, he wonders why the Entity is even allowing this. More importantly, why are you so damn strong?

He’s sort of scared of you to be honest, and it takes a lot for him to be scared. That look on your face as you clambered on top of him. You looked like you didn’t have even an inch of humanity left in you. Atleast in the moment you didn’t, not when you were so fed up with dying over and over again. He really felt like he wasn’t coming back after knowing you were going to kill him.

He might tell his friends about it, but nobody else. He trusts them enough to take it seriously and to comfort him. As much as a tough guy he is, he’s really just shocked about the whole thing. He’s never the one that has to die, so he’s never thought much about it, but when you’re in a situation like that, he understands how the survivors feel.

He’s sort of glad you aren’t in trials anymore. He doesn’t want his friends to be hurt, and he definitely doesn’t want himself to be hurt if that’s how you’re going to act near him. Though if you do manage to get near him and talk with him, he will start to understand why you did what you did. He’s not sure if he entirely forgives you, but atleast he knows you won’t hurt him again.

[shigarakis-cumdump]

An Unhealthy Obsession- Shigaraki x reader

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Summary: Short yandere fic based off the song “An Unhealthy Obsession,” by The Blake Robinson Synth. Orchestra. 

Cw: yandere and stalker tendencies

Word count: 1.9k 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Many people would call Shigarki the creepy type if they saw him on the street. Slouched over, face always buried in his phone with his hoodie covering the rest. He looked like your local creep who hung around popular stores and malls by himself. He would go to one mall in particular, even more so after he realized they had a Game Stop there. He would frequently go in to browse, and while he was checking out one day, he met you behind the counter.

“Will this be all?” you ask in your sweet customer service voice, with your head slightly tilted. Shigaraki froze in place. No one this pretty has ever talked to him before.

“Um, yeah, that’s all.” he says quickly, looking down to the ground while you're bagging his games.

“This one’s my favorite; I’ve been playing non-stop since it came out, have fun with it!” you say as you hand the bag back. And you play games? Could it get any more perfect?!

“Thanks,” he managed before walking out of the store and finding the closest bathroom. He locked the stall door and sat down. With his heartbeat in his cock, he couldn’t stop thinking of how innocent your voice sounded, and how pretty you looked. He decided from then on you were his next obsession.

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Shigaraki visited the store so often he learned your schedule. He would watch others make small talk with you, and it made him want to steal you for himself. His blood boiled when someone else would make you laugh. Soon enough, seeing you at your work wasn’t enough. He wanted to know more about you. So he followed you home one day. He kept his distance, being too scared of appearing creepy to people around him. You lived a few blocks away from him, who knew!This made it very easy for Shigaraki to stake out across the street and just watch you for hours. You always kept your windows open, maybe for the natural light? He appreciated it though; in his eyes, you left your blinds open for him. So he could watch as you dance around your room with your dog, and then relax and watch tv, hugging a pillow as you accidentally fall asleep. You were precious, and he realized all you wanted, all you needed, was someone like him to cuddle up into, to make sure you were safe. After all, there were too many creeps who could hurt you- he was just making sure they didn't get to you.

Shigaraki made it back to his place, but you never left his head. He went from sitting in the bushes, to sitting hunched over his desk, looking up your name on every search engine imaginable. “Bingo!” he says once he finds your socials. He scrolls down your page, seeing your stories about going to conventions earlier in the summer, spending time with your friends and- oh? What’s this? You were hugging a boy in this picture. Shigaraki zoomed in to get a good look at his face. “Why would you want a bastard like him?” he grunted angrily. He clicked on his profile and saw a post of you two eating at “your favorite restaurant” together for his birthday. The post was from the beginning of this year, so maybe you weren’t still with the guy. I mean Shigaraki didn’t see anyone while he was stalking you, which was a good sign.

Over time, his camera roll would fill up with screenshots of you off of your profile, shaky pictures he snapped of you while you were working, etc. He was in the store just when you worked now, because any other time he was following paces behind you to wherever your pretty feet were taking you. Stepping up to the counter with a few games, you began checking him out. His voice low and quiet as he asked, “Do you play games often?”

“Oh sure! Whenever I have free time, really. But lately I’ve been too busy. We should totally play together sometime!” you beam. Play together? He wanted to do a lot more than that .

“C-Cool, then I’ll see you through a screen next time,” Shigaraki scratches his neck awkwardly. You give him that practiced smile you show to all the customers. “Oh, what time do you get out?” he asks, and you give him a confused look. “S-so I know when to hop on! Just in case..” he drifts off, trying to keep cool. You tell him around 8, and he leaves. That’s perfect. Gives him just enough time to run some errands.

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Shigaraki went to the hardware store and got the smallest cameras he would find. He hurried over to your place, and prayed the key was still under the rug where you left it. And it was! He unlocked your door, and your small dog ran up to him, jumping on his leg. “You’re a friendly little guy, aren’t you?” he says, leaning down to pet the dog. Don’t get distracted ! He reminded himself. He began by setting a few cameras up in your room, one facing each corner. This gave him a perfect view of your bed, desk, and closet. While he was in there, he picked up a piece of thin red fabric off the ground. He inhaled deeply, to smell a sweet and salty scent. He shoved them into his pockets for later, and finished placing the cameras.

Back out in the living room, your dog was following him around. Shigaraki knelt down and gave him a pat. He read the dog's collar; apparently his name was Shiro. Cute. “You want something, Shiro? You need some food?” he asked, looking around for his dog dish. He found it and filled it up and then sat on the couch. He took your panties out of his pocket, giving them another whiff. The smell shot straight down to his groin, heating him up. He pulled his phone out and went to his album just for you and scrolled through the pictures. He loved you so dearly, and one day you would know just how much he cherished you. He played back the small interactions the two of you had, and all the memories you’d have together in the future. He palmed his hardening cock, head leaning back on the couch.

It was 6:30, he still had a few more hours before you were back. He revealed his dick from his sweatpants, his tip leaking pre. He put your red panties in his hand, and started to jerk himself off- the soft lace brushing against the underside of his dick. His breathing became hitched and sporadic at the thought of you underneath him making the same noises. No, he wasn’t experienced, but you would teach him everything he needed to know!

“Y/N… god you’re so tight..” he groaned. His hips thrusting up into you as you let out lewd noises for him. He grabbed your face and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“God please- fuck, I’m close, Shiggy!” you whined under him, twitching with your back arched and a tit in his mouth. The thoughts that filled his mind went directly to his cock. Shigaraki humped his hand, wishing it could be you, waiting for when it was you. Maybe you’d even fuck on this couch, who knows. He quickly finished and made sure to leave nothing behind before heading out and staking out behind the bushes again.

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You throw yourself on the couch as always, sitting where he sat just an hour ago. You made yourself some tea as you turned the tv on. It wasn’t too late, meaning Shigaraki could watch you for a bit.

A little later, you make yourself dinner. You take the trash out and leave it by the road. Shigaraki, being the weirdo he is, makes his way across the street, dangerously close to your front window, to snoop through your trash. There had to be something good in there. . He rummaged through your trash to find empty take out containers, some paper, and- chapstick? He wasn’t big on using it himself, but if it was yours, it was automatically going on his lips. He thought of it like an indirect kiss from his one and only. It had a taste of sweet strawberries, probably what you would taste like if he ever had the chance to kiss you. One day, he keeps telling himself. He pulls out his phone to check your room cameras and he sees you starting up your pc. Right! You asked to game with him earlier!  Shigaraki raced back home to load his game, praying he would find you in one of the local servers. There was FlameThrower2050 , TheRadicalDude , SuckItRight , and Shiro’sCloud online. You had to be the last one. He shot you a direct message, asking if you were up for a game, and you said yes. You actually said yes! Of course, you didn’t know it was him. You went into a private lobby and you turned on your headset. “Hey, can you hear me?” you asked innocently. Your pure voice went right through his heart. “Uh yeah, you sound great,” he blurts out. “Oh, Shigaraki?” you remembered his name?! This left him ecstatic. The game starts and you play a few rounds, Shigaraki being in heaven. You ended up beating him. In every. Single. Round. A bit embarrassing for him, but you laughed it off and didn’t make fun of him for it. Oddly, that stuck with him. You were so nice the whole time- he couldn’t wait to talk to you at work tomorrow!

It was getting late, which is why you had to go, which also meant Shigaraki got to watch you on the cameras. He pulled out his phone, switching to the view of your bed. You crawled in with just panties and an oversized shirt on, how cute. You scrolled on your phone for a little, until it dropped on your chest and you fell asleep. Your phone battery is gunna die, silly… Shigaraki thinks to himself. He could always go over and plug it in for you. No! That was too dangerous!! What if you wake up when he’s standing over you? Certainly that’s not a good impression to leave. He argues with himself for a bit before he’s out of the house, running down the street. His feet carry him all the way back to your place. He grabs the key and goes for the door. It was unlocked. You left it unlocked for him? How nice of you! He sneaks in and Shiro is quick to jump on him. Shiro took quite a liking to him. He tiptoed over to your room, looking at your sleeping body through the door crack. He opened the door slightly, going in and looming over you. He pried the phone from out of your hands and plugged it in for you. You would thank him later; tomorrow! When you’d see him next. Shigaraki zoned out, watching you sleep soundly for a good hour, stealing pictures of you while you were snoring, and getting a quick sniff of your hair. He had stayed there a lot longer than intended, the sun starting to rise. He snuck out of your room and locked the door on his way out.

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“Oh, hey!” Shigaraki hears your pleasant voice call out to him from the counter. “Last night was a lot of fun; how about we play again tonight?” you ask him. He immediately says yes, his heart doing flips in his chest. This was the start of something good.

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Kim Sunwoo - Reflection [Requested]

Request: Strangers to friends (dom! Sunwoo), new kid Sunwoo meets the school troublemaker in detention. Tensions rise and antics ensue.

new kid! Sunwoo x bad girl! reader

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up kiddos), underage sex, semi-public sex, slight praise kink, slight angst, mentions of bullying/misconduct/mischief

Sorry for the wait @l0v3bugch4nh33 but I hope you enjoy it! Thanks again for requesting 💖

What do you do when your position as the baddest person in school is threatened by some obnoxious newbie with equally obnoxious pink hair?

Mr Lee sighs for the umpteenth time as you tap your foot incessantly. He glares at you, knowing full well he has no effect on you. Every teacher that's tried to talk some sense into you or punish you has given up and resigned to waiting for the day you graduate, which proves to be difficult since your grades were trash and your conduct was just as terrible. You had to repeat your senior year and it just meant you had more time to mess with the teachers and staff. Why hadn't they just expelled you? Well, you doubt it had anything to do with the fact that you'd been expelled from two other high schools already, and your parents had offered a large sum of money to the principal to keep you in this school until you graduate.

You hated studying, period. You hated how rigid the academic systems were, and you had little to no interest in anything. Not science, not languages, not arts. You just felt stuffy and controlled all the time. That was why you ended up terrorizing the other kids and even staff, just to feel alive and free. Smoking in the school bathrooms, skipping class, vandalism; just to name a few. You revelled in the way your juniors would scurry away if you so much as looked in their direction, and even some teachers would avoid you. You ran the school, and you were untouchable. Until about a week ago.

Some new kid transferred into your class with obnoxiously pink hair and a slight accent from the countryside. Who even transfers into a new school in their senior year? Anyway, some of the girls were immediately taken by his looks, whispering to each other about how cute he was, and your classmates began spreading mindless gossip about him.

I heard he was expelled for beating up some teachers

I heard it was because he set the school on fire!

I bet it's cause he slept with a teacher

You roll your eyes at their stupid words, effectively shutting them up with a glare. As your luck would have it, the new guy (Sunoo, was it?) was assigned to be your seating partner, something your teacher belatedly realized was a very bad idea. In horror, she reminded the class that it was a temporary arrangement and that she was revise the seating plan, internally vowing to keep you two as far away from each other as possible. It wasn't something for her to worry about, you thought. You had absolutely no plans to get close to the pink-haired fool who was not-so-subtly checking you out.

Days passed and you tried to assert your dominance by acting out even more than usual. You swapped all the locks to the gym equipment storage and started a food fight at lunch, earning you a week's worth of detention. However it didn't seem to faze him at all, and he went about his business, staying out of your hair, despite appreciating the view every time you walked past in your short skirt. So what if you weren't abiding by the school dress code? He himself had flaming pink hair, which apparently landed him in detention too, since he wasn't willing to dye it back to black or shave it all off within the stipulated time. That, and he was caught smoking in the boys bathroom. Detention within the first week of school? You had to applaud him, even if you decided you hated his guts for being indifferent and callous. Only you were allowed to be like that.

A knock on the door brings you back to the present, and Mr Lee huffs when he sees the fuchsia mop poke through the door. "So nice of you to finally join us, Sunwoo. Your seat is there. And I'm sure you're familiar with the rules of detention by now, most schools are the same," your teacher smiles, a fake saccharine tinge to his voice.

"Afraid not, sir, would you be so kind to inform me again?" Sunwoo drawls, his big round eyes blinking with faux innocence. You resist the urge to laugh at the way Mr Lee is fuming, sinewy arms ready to burst through his tight button-up and you swear you could see steam pouring out of his ears. "I do not want to hear a single word from either of you. Stay put, and maybe do some reflection on why you decided to be such menaces," he spits through gritted teeth, storming off through the door and slamming it shut, locking it from the outside. You groan, slouching into your seat as you fiddle with your phone, already bored out of your mind. Your eyes are on your phone but you can sense Sunwoo's gaze lingering on you again. It's not unpleasant, but it leaves you feeling hot, and you refuse to believe he's got that effect on you.

"You're an idiot," you mutter under your breath, your eyes still trained on your phone.

"Pardon?" his artificially sweet voice is back, taunting you with that drawl of his.

"Smoking on school grounds, getting detention in your first week? Rookie mistake."

"What if I did it on purpose? To spend some quality time with the mysterious bad girl everyone's been talking about?"

You scoff loudly and Sunwoo is still grinning annoyingly at you. He stands up and walks over to the teacher's table, plopping into Mr Lee's seat. "You're interesting." He stretches his long legs out, resting them on the table, putting his hands behind his head, sending a cocky smirk your way; and you can’t decide if you want to punch or kiss it right off his face. You roll your eyes, uncrossing your legs and you suppress a laugh when you notice Sunwoo’s line of vision goes straight to the spot between your legs. He licks his plush lips subconsciously, and oh, what you would give to feel those lips on your body. You spread your legs just a tad further, and the smirk on his face slowly drains away, eyes transfixed on the wet spot on your panties. “Fuck you, Sunwoo.”

“Yes, please,” he murmurs absentmindedly, his mind racing thinking about all the dirty things he wants to do to you. You scoff, crossing your legs again, about to curse at him. You’re no easy girl. Especially for someone like Sunwoo, with his stupid puppy eyes, fluffy pink hair, pouty pink lips, thick thighs straining through his tapered uniform trousers and- your thoughts were disrupted by his figure looming over you. He had crossed the room while you were busy listing off everything you found attractive hated in the boy. He stands before you, round eyes darkened with want, and his hand comes up to tilt your chin upwards, his thumb carelessly rubbing against your bottom lip.

"Are you really as bad as they say you are?"

"Don't try me Kim Sunwoo."

"No… I don't think you are. I think you're actually a good girl, hmm?" Sunwoo whispers, deftly unzipping his trousers and pulling his erect cock out, perfectly level with your glossy lips. He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear, and gently coaxes your head closer to his twitching length. Your mouth falls open unwittingly, and you can't help but lick your lips at the sight before you.

"Such a good girl only for me."

A shiver rolls down your spine at his deep voice, and you find your lips around his tip, lapping up his oozing precum, your hand grasping the base of his cock. Sunwoo lets out a shaky moan, his fingers twisting into your hair. “Fuck, just like that,” he gasps. You bob your head up and down, swallowing around his shaft, and Sunwoo’s pretty moans fill the classroom. He guides your head up and down his length, admiring the way your luscious lips are wrapped around his veiny member. Soon, he tugs you off by your hair, making a 'pop' sound as your mouth releases his dick. You look up at him questioningly, and his cock twitches at the sight of your spit-slicked swollen lips. "Don't wanna cum yet, cutie," he grins, dragging you by the shoulders to push you against the teacher's table.

You hop up the table and lean back, parting your legs wide to accommodate him. You pull your skirt up, and he pulls your drenched panties aside to dive in, licking ravenously at your slick folds, causing you to mewl and throw your head back, nearly hitting your head on the table. He slides your panties off and his free hand sneaks up your body to cup your breast, massaging it through your shirt and bra as he makes out with your pussy. You clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, feeling those plump lips close around your sensitive clit, and you can't help but writhe in pleasure. Sunwoo smirks up at you from between your thighs, balling up your panties and holding them in front of your face. "Open up~ can't be too noisy can we, or else the teachers will find out we don't hate each other as much as they think we do," he mocks you in a singsong voice. You open your mouth to rebuke, but he takes this opportunity to shove your panties into your mouth, prompting a disgruntled moan from you.

Your annoyance at being forcibly shushed fades quickly when he sticks two thick fingers into your pussy, clenching tight around the intrusion. He laps at your clit as he pumps his fingers, scissoring them to stretch you out, his other hand back to groping your other breast. Your mind is turning hazy from all the stimulation, and you can only grip onto the edges of the table as you drown in the feeling of Sunwoo's touches all over your body. He pulls away once he thinks you're ready, making you whine at the loss of contact. He straightens up and you wordlessly stare at each other with lust-filled eyes as he languidly lubes up his erect cock with your juices. You position yourself right at the edge of the table, holding your legs up and apart with your hands, presenting yourself to him.

Your pussy throbs as he approaches, lining up his cock with your entrance and he pushes in slowly. The stretch burns deliciously, and Sunwoo hurriedly pulls your panties from your lips, muffling your moans with his lips instead. The kiss is messy, spit and precum and teeth, as your pussy adjusts to having him fully sheathed inside you. You break apart, gasping for air, and Sunwoo is shaking from resisting the urge to pummel into you immediately. "M-move, Sunwoo, hurry," you whisper, and he nods, pulling out and slamming back in instantly, shushing you softly when you unwittingly moan out loud. He continues to fuck you at a brutal pace, balls slapping against your ass, and slowly you feel your arms start to give way. He notices this, and takes over, holding your thighs apart with a bruising grip as he drills into you. He buries his face in your neck, his hot breath and warm lips on your skin bringing you close to climax.

"You think you're so big and bad huh? The students fear you and the teachers hate you, but look how good you're being for me," he pants into your skin, groaning when you clench around him, clearly affected by his words. "S-shut it Sunwoo just- ahhh!" your words are cut off by a hard thrust into your g-spot. You hate him, for being a tease, for taunting you, for threatening to take your spot as the top dog in school, but most of all, for edging you. He chuckles darkly, pulling your hair so you look up at him with desperate, wild eyes. "Come on now, ask nicely and I'll let you cum, babe," he teases, hips still pistoning relentlessly into yours. You let out a frustrated groan, and you grab him by his collar, pressing your lips against his. "Let me cum, Sunwoo, wanna cum all over your pretty cock," you mumble against his lips, and it seems to do the trick.

His thrusts begin to stutter, and you smirk into the kiss, realizing that big bad Sunwoo likes being praised too. "Your lips were made to eat pussy, and you just love the taste of mine, don't you?" you continue, getting bolder, revelling in the way a shiver rolls down his spine at your words. He thrusts erratically, groaning lowly as you cling to his frame, burying your face in his shoulder to muffle your moans as you cum hard, clenching tightly around his cock. Sunwoo hurriedly pulls out before he cums inside you, jerking himself harshly to completion, growling and cursing as he paints the side of the teacher's table white with his cum. He falls forward, clutching the table as both of you gulp lungfuls of air as you come down from your highs.

"Fuck, that was-"

"Insane. We're insane for doing this, really." you finish his sentence. He snorts loudly, shaking his head at the sticky situation you had gotten yourselves into. Suddenly you hear footsteps and voices coming down the hallway, and you look at each other in horror. You quickly straighten your clothes, hurrying to put your panties on and wipe off Sunwoo's cum from the teacher's table with a gym towel you had in your school bag. Mr Lee opens the door to find the two of you sitting very peacefully apart, and with any luck, doesn't notice the messy hair, wrinkled clothes, flushed cheeks or the stench of sex and sweat in the classroom.

He chalks it up to you two delinquents being perpetually unkempt, and dismisses the two of you, as it was well past the time your detention should have ended. You and Sunwoo duck around him, uncharacteristically quiet and meek as you exit the school together. Once you make it past the school gates, you both break out into raucous laughter, still not believing how you went from hating each other to swallowing each other's faces in the span of one meeting. The smile on Sunwoo's face suddenly disappears as a thought crosses his mind. "Wait… was there a CCTV camera in that classroom?" he asks worriedly. "Yeah. There is." you reply casually, and a look of alarm crosses his face.

"Don't worry, it's broken though." you quickly assure him.

"What? Who broke it?"

A devious smile graces your lips and Sunwoo immediately understands, barking out another incredulous laugh. You two share stories about the trouble you've gotten into at your previous schools all the way home. Before you part ways, Sunwoo smirks cheekily at you. "So… Same time next week?"

You gnaw on your lip as you consider. Maybe there was space at the top of the food chain for two, and that you both aren't so different after all. You mirror his impish grin as you walk away.

"See you in detention, Kim Sunwoo."

[kimnjss]

just hanging out | jjk

⤑  series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: fluff!... some angst at the end if you squint.

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.9K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: lmao second hand embarrassment probably.

⤑ A/N: hey :( love you all who have been enjoying this story nd sending your thoughts in - they really make my day. so thank youu! let me know what you think x 

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 16:49

Casual. You're constantly reminding yourself the entire time you're getting ready. This was supposed to be casual. This was not a date. So there was no reason for you to go through the process of getting ready for a date. You didn't shave, just took a regular shower with the regular soaps. 

Spent very little time in the mirror when getting dressed, there was no need for frilly shirts or form-fitting pants. Instead, you settled for a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie that Taehyung had lost a little while back. Minimum makeup, hair up, and out of your face.

Needed to cement it in your mind that this was not a date. Steal away any reason for you to act like it was one. No matter how much you knew you'd enjoy the whole shebang, candlelit dinner, romantic walk admiring the night sky, kiss on the doorstep – you had to ignore that.

Bottle it up and stuff it down because there were many things you didn't know about Jungkook and the bits you did know weren't great. His shitty friends being at the top of the list. So, until you were sure he wasn't like the lot of them... not dates were what you'd settle for. Because at the end of the day, you wanted to see him.

It's a thirty-minute drive from your house to Jungkook's and you spend the entire car ride agonizing on how this 'not date' was going to turn out. And then immediately scolding yourself for freaking out over something that shouldn't matter as much as you were making it out to be.

For all you knew, he probably was just waking up... barely remembering that he had plans with you. Most likely hopping in the shower just minutes before you were said to arrive. Mmh, Jungkook in the shower. Droplets of water rolling over his tone skin, following the dips and ridges until...

It's hard to shake the image of Jungkook showering out of your head once you've got it there. Even with his insistent need to wear baggy clothes, it didn't take a detective to see that the kid was ripped. No doubt spent hours in the gym working on his arms, his abs, his thighs...

Nope. Not going there. No reason to go there when you were on your way to hang out, innocently hang out with a guy that you were just barely friends with. That's all it was. Two people getting to know each other after clicking the first time they talked. God, the way you clicked with Jungkook was unbelievable. 

He made you laugh. And it was weird because you don't remember ever feeling this comfortable around someone this quickly. Jungkook was different. At least you hoped he was. Instantly, you're shushing your thoughts. Refusing to mentally put so much pressure on something that more than likely become nothing.

Getting your hopes up too early was the reason why people got hurt in the first place. So this wasn't a date. And you weren't going to expect him to treat it as such. Just hanging out to get to know each other. That was it.

That was it. Your new mantra as you shove your car into park, heading up the walkway to his front door. Knocking while repeating those four words to yourself. Casual. That was it.

You're not even waiting a full minute before the front door is being pulled open, revealing a fresh-looking Jungkook. Dark hair falling in pretty waves, on either side of his pretty face. He seems to be glowing and you feel it throughout your entire body when he smiles.

A baggy pink sweatshirt swallows his figure, paired with equally loose gray sweatpants. His house is spotless when he lets you in, obvious that he spent the duration of the morning cleaning. The smell of Lysol still lingered in the air. Even the white socks on his feet seemed oddly clean.

You can't help but smile at the effort, allowing yourself to believe that all the trouble was for you.

Once he's setting your shoes in his extremely organized coat closet, he's leading you through the house. Smiling big as he gives you a mini-tour of the first floor and you swear you're paying attention. You're trying your best at least, but it's hard to concentrate on anything that wasn't how cute he looked.

“And this is the arcade,” He's showing off both rows of teeth with his broad gesture into the room located at the end of the hall. Obviously proud of this part of the tour.

As he should be. When the kid said arcade, that's exactly what he meant. Old school game machines lined the walls, ones that you'd actually find in an arcade. Some games that you've never heard of before. All with the high score name: 'Koo'. A dramatic two-person car racing game tucked in the corner.

There's a curved 90 inch TV mounted on the wall, in front of it on a stand is every game console ever made. He has his laptop set up in the room, with two monitors and two gaming chairs in front of it. In the middle of the room is the most comfortable L shaped couch.

All you can say is, “Whoa.” And he's laughing at your reaction.

“It's my favorite room in the house. Well... aside from,” His eyes shift up, obviously gesturing to upstairs where his bedroom is.

The insinuation has a blush darkening your cheeks, but you choose to ignore it, stepping further into the room with a tiny gasp. “You have Skee-ball!?” He's right behind you as you rush across to the room to where the game is set up. A manicured nail pressing against the start button, grinning wide up at him as the balls roll down.

Bright red numbers flash on the screen, the high score followed by his name: 310...Koo. A smirk instantly settling onto your features as you reach for one of the bright-colored balls. “I'm gonna beat that,” Lifting a finger to point at the numbers on the screen.

Jungkook is letting a loud laugh leave his lips, a pretty smile settling on his features as the sound dies down. “That took me two weeks... good luck,” Drawing your hand back, you release the ball on the swing. Watching as it travels upward toward the slots, dropping right into the gutter.

It takes four throws before you're getting it right, the ball traveling up the slope and directly into the 40 point slot. You're letting out a loud whoop, arms lifting in slight victory.

Eyes wide, you're turning your head to face him. “You saw that!?” You're shocked that he's already looking at you. With this soft lovey look that you were the one to hang the stars in the sky. And it makes you wish that this was a date because if it were you'd be able to let yourself enjoy the feeling that comes with the way that he's looking at you.

But it's not a date. So you don't. Shove the fuzzy feeling away with a shake of your head, reaching for another ball from the rack and thrusting it forward. 

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 18:08

Jungkook is scary good at games. Like scary good. If he wasn't matching your score, he was doubling it. Didn't even graze his high score in Skee-ball and every game after that was his domain. And he was having fun beating you, the smile growing on his face each time you were crossing your arms with a pout – claiming the game had to be rigged.

Foosball to Car Racing to Dance Dance Revolution (he had way more rhythm than you'd expect). You've settled down quite a bit since you first showed up at his house, finding it easy to relax around him. He was cute when he got competitive, not like you were much of a competition in these games... but it was nice to see him like this.

The scrunch of his nose as he focused on the screen. The cute dimples that popped out whenever he won. And how he mindlessly sat close to you, engulfing you in his sweet scent. There was just something about being with Jungkook that made you feel at ease, could someone who made you that comfortable really be as bad as his trash friends?

His shoulder brushes against yours as he settles further into the comfort of his couch, his thumbs moving over the controller quickly. Implementing combo after to defeat your character. In the fourth round of Mortal Kombat and you've only one once.

“Hey! You said you'd let me win,” He's laughing, not even letting your character get up before the large K.O. letters appear on the screen and his person is giving their little victory remark. A dramatic huff leaves your lips, the controller being tossed to the side to cross your arms over your chest.

All he wants to do is lean in and kiss that pout off your lips. Has wanted to kiss you since he beat you in table tennis. You're so pretty and he can't hold back from moving closer to you, guiding your movements just so he can have an excuse to touch you. And he doesn't miss the way you blush. The cute giggles that you let out when he flirts with you. Making him want to flirt with you more just so he can hear the sound.

“I tried,” He speaks through a laugh, taking in the skeptical look on your face. “I did! You're just so bad,” His eyes watch your fingers move around the controller, switching the screen to the character choice.

Gasping when his words sink in, landing dainty punches onto his shoulder. “You're mean! Rematch. I'm not bad,” Jungkook's pressing start on the game as soon as you both have picked your characters, leaning back against the couch as he instantly starts trying out combos on you.

Your whines and protests are cute. It's all he can focus on when he's supposed to be paying attention to the game. And the shout of triumph you let out when you're managing to knock his character down squeezes at his heart, he can't help but turn to look at the smile on your face.

“Look at you losing!” He's sure his health bar is at the end by now, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. In awe, because how could someone actually look like that? So effortlessly... beautiful? 

The tip of your tongue poked out the corner of your lips, brows furrowed as you work hard to take him down. So wrapped in the game, you don't even realize that he had stopped playing. It's his luck too, no telling how embarrassed he'd be if he was caught staring. Yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Not until you're jumping up excited, clapping for yourself and your win. “Did you see that?” Your body is whipping around, forcing a surprised look on his face. Worried that you might've caught the way he had been looking at you. “I just fucking destroyed you! You can't even say that was beginners luck, either.”

You're lifting your hand for a high five, which he's happily giving to you. His smile matching yours as you flop down on the couch beside him, thighs grazing over each other and he feels it in his chest. “Do you want a chance to redeem yourself?”

Not even a minute is spared for him to answer because you're already starting up a new round. He's got his game face on now, shaking himself out of the daze. “Can you believe I just kicked your butt?” There's this taunting look on your face and all he wants to do is lean over and kiss you.

He takes for teasing you instead. Noticing your ridge posture that he had commented on in your picture. “I don't know how,” A large hand reaches over to touch your back, your body automatically leaning into his touch. “Your form is all off, it had to be luck.” Just a bit of pressure is applying to your back and you're slouching forward.

With a laugh, you're rolling your eyes – reaching a hand back to swat his away. “Watch me beat you like this too. I'll even let you pick my character,” You've been using the same girl since you started playing while he's surfed through the entire catalog. He's taking you up on the offer, picking one of the bulkier characters that don't do all the jump moves you seem to love so much.

And you still beat him.

This time distracted by the frustrated rants from you whenever your guy doesn't do what you tell him to. Time runs out and he ends up having less on his health bar and you're taking that as a proper win, lifting your hand for another high five.

Jungkook congratulates you quietly, more so trying to figure out just what was going on inside his chest. He's had girls over before. In much more intimate settings than this... but never has he felt like his heart was about to burst through his chest. This unbearable feeling to be close to you and it's quickly becoming all he can think about.

You're just so pretty. And you look oddly sexy in your sweats. But it's not just that. There's something else that he can't really place that's pulling him to you. Making it hard for him to stop thinking about stupid things like holding your hand or kissing your cheek. Imagining if days like today were the norm and after he'd grow tired of playing games, you'd let him stretch out his head in your lap – playing with his hair.

And it has to be crazy because this was only the first time the two of you were alone. The late-night texts being all he had to back up knowing you, but at the same time, he felt like he knew you. Like he's known you well. He can't describe it either, but he's almost positive that you feel the same.

“Are you hungry? Should we order a pizza?” You've already whipped your phone out, reluctantly putting a bit of space between the two of you as you scroll through your phone. Jungkook is quick to agree, fingers moving over the buttons on the controller to switch the TV.

No idea why he all of a sudden feels so nervous. “Sure,” He's managing to mumble out, but you're not listening. Already putting together a pizza for both of you. “Do you, uhm... do you wanna watch a movie? Something on Netflix?” Your thumb is stilling on the screen at the mention of Netflix.

Yoongi's playful warning ringing loudly in your mind. 'Playing video games was just Netflix and Chill with more steps,'. But there was the chance that he was actually tired of playing games and wanted to watch a movie with you. It didn't have to be that serious, you had been going at it for hours.

“Yeah, go ahead. Pick something.” His body slouches back on the cushions, scanning through the movies halfheartedly before choosing a random one with a really long title. After tapping his fingers against the screen, the neon orange lights in the room are dimming. A comfortable warmth settling around you.

Jungkook watches as you take your time putting the order together. The beginning credits playing on the screen and he's not even paying attention, too busy with his eyes glued to you. “I got meat lovers, you like that, right?” Setting your phone aside, you allow yourself to sink into the comfort of the cushions. 

“Mmh, my favorite.” Not a lie. It really was. And the fact that you had chose it without knowing just added to everything about you that made him want to kiss you. A small smile spreads across your lips as you nod, turning your attention to the screen in front of you.

The two of you sit side by side, watching the characters on the screen, but you're not listening. It's hard to hear over the pounding in your chest. The nervous bounce of his leg as if he was waiting for something. And you have no idea what because the pizza is no where near being on its way.

A pretty girl is in an argument with her male lead, something about debt and you're trying your hardest to follow the storyline. Although, you have no idea what this movie is and why he picked it. 

It's the thick yawn from beside you that catches your attention, Jungkook's arms lifting over his head in a stretch. You don't think much of it, other than the fact that he's being a little dramatic with his stretch. Until the arm closest to you is dropping down, not at his side like it had been before but around your shoulders – gently tugging your body into his side.

“Did you just do the yawn move on me?” You can't help but laugh. Even through the darkness, you can see the pink tint on his cheeks. “Shh, this is my favorite part.” You're actually positive that he's never seen this movie before, but don't put up a fight. Instead, you let yourself lean into his chest.

He's warm. And smells like flowers. His eyes don't move from the screen as he's reaching down, soft hands reaching for the outside of your knee. Slowly, he's lifting your legs onto his lap, only glancing in your direction briefly to gauge your reaction. Leaning back when there's no sign of you wanting to move.

“Your feet are so small,” Toes curling at the random attention, you're leaning over to reach for his face attempting to pull his focus. “Don't make fun of them! What the heck?” He's laughing loudly at you, allowing you to move his head. Shifting his focus from your feet to his face.

Your fingers are cold against his warm skin, but he can't keep himself from leaning into your touch. “They're cute.” Big eyes scan over your face, smiling softly when they're landing on yours. “You're cute.”

Almost instantly, the atmosphere in the room seems to shift. And you're not sure how he did it, but the way he was looking at you, the soft whisper in his voice... you can't but melt in his strong arms. Basically sat in his lap and it's nice. Jungkook takes his time with inching forward, entering your space which has your hand falling from his face.

He's quick to replace your hand with his one your cheek, tilting your head up toward his. You're sure he's going to kiss you. It's obvious with the slight pucker of his lips, the droop of his eyes, he's tapping a rhythmic beat against your knee ten times faster than the rush of your heart. He was going to kiss you.

Jungkook was going to kiss you and it felt like you couldn't breathe. Nerves on a ten because this wasn't even supposed to be a date. And now you were in this situation and you weren't the least bit unhappy about it. You wanted him to kiss you and it's a new feeling that you don't fully understand. It freaks you out.

Just inches from your lips and your face is twisting up, head jerking back before he can reach you. “What are you doing?” Instantly hating yourself for the embarrassed look on his features that slowly morphs into a puppy dog pout.

“I was going to kiss you...” Jungkook mumbles out sheepishly, dropping his arm from your body to push his hair back. Making an effort to put some space between the two of you, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.

Because in his mind he had done everything right. Had been making you laugh all night, set some type of mood, told you that you were cute. And you seemed to be enjoying yourself... so what was he missing?

“Why would you do that? This isn't a date, Jungkook.” The mantra that you thought you had worked into your head seemed to be slipping. Not sure when you had forgotten what this was supposed to be, but now it was all rushing back to you.

The reasons you had rejected going on an actual date with him in the first place. And the realization of how stupid you were to think that this was a proper substitute for it. No matter what you decided to call it, it didn't erase the fact that this... tonight, with him... felt like a date.

And it wasn't supposed to.

“Do you kiss all the people you just hang out with?” It's wrong to put the blame on him and only him, but you can't help it. You're a mess in your head for a plethora of reasons, because it had been obvious. How he was looking at you, his arm around you, your legs in his lap... everything that you decided to ignore.

But in the same breath, he told you this wasn't a date... so why bother with all sweet shit. Turning movies on for one reason. Maybe you were reading too deep into all of this? Maybe you were overreacting. Jungkook didn't act like his friends when he was with you, maybe he was really different.

“Oh, come on, Yn... are you being serious?” He doesn't look all too embarrassed anymore, just a little bit sad from the rejection. It's fine, though. He'll live. “Dead serious, Jungkook. You got me here saying this wasn't a date. You need to stick to that,” You felt strongly on that part.

You had told him you didn't want to go on a date with him and even though this 'not date' was literally the same thing, he shouldn't act as if you had said yes to a date. Right? He should keep his word, that way things wouldn't get messy. Like right now.

Jungkook seems to put it together in his head, nodding his head in agreement – yet, the pout doesn't leave his lips. “Alright, alright. Fine. My bad,” He's tugging at the rolls of fabric on his sweats, avoiding eye contact with you. Dark hair covering his eyes, all you can really see is the pink of his lower lip.

And you feel bad, even though you know you shouldn't. It's not like you would've hated kissing him. It was just too nerve-racking to think of doing right now. You didn't quite understand it yourself, so there was no way you could go and explain it to him.

Instead, you're extending a finger. Poking the tip of your nail into his knee. “Don't pout. Come on, you'll miss the best part.” Referring to the movie that you're both watching for the first time, but it has a smile pushing onto his lips. His head lifting and gaze shifting onto the TV screen.

“Sorry,” He mumbles out after a moment, but you're not sure if he's apologizing for the almost-kiss or something else. Either way, you're flashing a genuine smile in his direction, lifting a hand to playfully shove at his shoulder. “Don't worry about it. It's fine,”

It really was.

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[toiletwipes]

and i'd give up forever to touch you

chapter eight. saturday, wait.

Summary: Will is waking up and smelling the roses, coming to grip and accepting that you're a huge comfort to him, though you seem to be in the middle of your own silent debacle.

ao3. ~1.7k. masterlist.

---

he wasn’t awake but he wasn’t asleep. in that middle part where it’s a floating feeling, as if you’re being lowered back into your bed after a night of flying dreams. not that he dreamt of flying, most dreams were incoherent and oftentimes, forgotten.

but he comes to as he tunes into the sounds of the waking world. a radio playing in the background, dishes clattering amongst other things, a soft voice humming, and feet shuffling against the wooden floorboards. and rolling in the soft, warm blanket, he finds himself reaching out beside him, looking for something, or someone, as his arm meets an almost cold space. as if someone had been long gone. taking a sniff, he doesn’t recognize the smell on the blankets or pillows and he begrudgingly opens the first eye, twitching till both of them are open fully.

it’s your bedroom, and the light is peaking in through the corner but your door is closed, as if someone had closed it after leaving him alone.

closing his eyes, he takes the moment to just cherish the way his bones melt in your mattress, sinking into the welcomed feeling.

and as the moment slows down and time seems to stop, he hears the front door slam and rosie’s voice echoing against the walls. “you won’t believe the shit that i had to go through this morning, guys.” guys? his curiosity peaked and then, as he looked the camera on your dresser in the eye and then the one tucked by the clutter in the corner, he decides he has to get up.

it was just the three of them when they got home- when they got here, wasn’t it? they hadn’t picked anyone else up, you were exhausted by the time you two entered the dorm.

had rosie invited someone over in the time you were gone? or, seeing as she just arrived, had she invited someone before she left? questions running through his head without so much as an answer for any of them, he tries to leave your bed before he’s shackled to the damn mattress with doubt.

tripping over his own shoes, he fumbles with getting a hold on anything before breathing heavily, and attempting to control it.

when he feels like he’s failed, he kicks the shoes away from him and out of the way, feet scuffling against the floor as he pulls the door open slowly, as if he didn’t want to be discovered leaving the room.

also failed at that.

“morning, will, you’re just in time for breakfast!” you cut off whatever rosie was ranting about, smiling at him as you wash some dishes from cooking whatever it was. seemed to be eggs and sausage and the bag of questionables rosie was holding in her tight hold, anger unknowingly festering.

rosie absently pulls out a chair next to him and waves him a hello.

he wants to tell his heart not to go wild at her actions but it’s already racing ahead, sitting himself next to the one girl he wants and tries to pay attention. and then someone sneezes behind him.

twisting his neck, he finds jared from the other day, curled under the thinnest blanket they had available, and his hair fashionably disheveled. not unlike how most actors wake up in a movie, he notes, as he turns back around with a wave of his own, acknowledging him.

jared. when did he get here?

“-so i’m telling this woman, who by the way has a tattoo of that baby from cloudy with a chance of meatballs on her wrist, you can’t just eat in here, this is the dressing room. and she has the audacity to tell me i’m not an employee so i don’t “have any authority” well, you should’ve seen her face when i brought the manager back there. they almost called the police because she was refusing to stop eating there. you should’ve seen it.” rosie finishes her story up as you begin to serve everyone, saving yourself for last as you lean against the counter, watching the two seated with careful eyes.

will swallows the first bite down with relative ease, and so do the bites that follow, eyes taking glances to rosie, who’s looking at her phone. and when he finishes, he moves to go wash it, ending up next to you, and you, you’re not even bothered, shoving an elbow in between his ribs as you give me a playful smile.

“hey, jared, don’t forget, we have to go pick up your mother!” rosie turns around to remind said college student, who groans and turns to smush his face into the couch, as if the couch absorbing him will save him from such a horror.

“why did she have to come visit now? it’s been barely a month!” will blinks, has it really? he turns to you as if asking you will confirm it, but you seem just as taken aback. both of you seemed to have lost time, but rosie seems confident in her time.

“yes, now get ready, i won’t wait for you, i do have to stream today,” she tells him as she swings off the seat, grabbing one of his surprisingly toned arms, and yanking on it.

he immediately whines, rubbing at his shoulder as he tried to bat her away, but she’s getting him on his feet, pushing him towards her room as she rolled her eyes. grabbing her keys, she tossed a hand up, waving as she passed them by, “i’ll be right back.”

silence sits for a few minutes as you two process what happened. and then he feels a burning gaze he doesn’t know if he wants to meet.

will swallows down something, not any of the egg or sausage, and turns to your prodding eyes, almost as if you’re looking for something inside of him, not particularly at him.

then pulling back, and turning around to wash your own dish, you bite your lips as if you mean to say something. but you end up putting your dish up and then turn to him with a smile he didn’t recognize, asking him if he didn’t mind doing homework with you.

and, well, he was in the same boat, but he didn’t exactly have his computer.

“my, my uh laptop is back at home, but otherwise i wouldn’t mind!” he answers, mind too scrambled from rosie next to him that he doesn’t know if they make any sense, and you nod.

“did you want to pick it up or did you want to be dropped off, or we could also go somewhere else entirely, just- it’s too early for me to make decisions,” you smile as you walk over to the couch, slipping some slippers on as he almost follows you, brain still ticking at a slow speed.

but he ends up making a decision, and as much as it’s a bad one, he can’t help but want to be back in his home and you make it yours like you’ve done everywhere you’ve been.

rubbing his palms as he thinks on it make him realize how sweaty they’ve gotten, so he pats them on his pants as he begins to speak, “well- what if we did our work at my place? i mean it would be much easier to do so, don’t you think?” he says, as if you were planning to decline his kind offer.

it lifts the edges of your eyes in your smile a little as you accept, moving past him with a mumbled sorry as you head back to your room, pulling out a backpack from behind the door. you grin as he gets his shoes, and as you two descend the stairs, you pass rosie and he notices the distinct smell on her and the smile she gives you two is different from the one five minutes ago.

“without me?” you joke as you call from the bottom of the second floor and she only laughs, and he knows. after all, it wasn’t that unfamiliar of a smell.

and then you’re running down the steps to the bottom floor and happily striding to your car, unlocking it and giving him a sliver of your smile, of your happiness.

though you don't see it getting in the car, he smiles to himself.

“to your apartment?” you say as you tuck your backpack in the back seat and he nods, leaning into the seat as you peeled out of the lot, turning the radio on as the sun slowly makes its way up into the sky.

the time passes by fast enough that he finds himself wondering if he had any trash in there as he was unlocking the door. it turns out not that dirty and you immediately sit yourself on the couch, pulling out your computer and asking for the wifi password.

and getting his laptop was the easy part. it’s taking the seat beside you, angling his body sideways as his laptop sits on his lap, unsure what will happen. he had closed it on the footage of you. with the sound on.

trying to breathe a regular amount, he opens it and immediately hits the mute button, watching as the screen lights up with the mute on and the image of your bedroom with rumpled blankets on them. just how you left them.

exiting the program, he pulls his classes up and internally screams at how much his professors hate him. and the time slips you two, typing fills the room and when it hits noon and you put your computer to the side, you ask where the bathroom is.

the real mess is in his room and he wonders if it's too much to ask to drive you to piss elsewhere, and that’s when he abandons all thoughts and just leads you through his bedroom, apologizing for the mess, and thanking whoever is in charge that it wasn’t as bad as he remembered.

sitting on his bed with his hands in his pockets, he wonders how much longer he’ll be glued to his computer till the workload diminishes completely when you open the door. you wipe your wet hands on the cloth on the sink counter when you turn completely to him.

“hey, will, can i ask you something?” you speak, and though you sound out of the blue, like you didn’t know that you were speaking yourself until you heard your voice, he nods, watching you and feeling like nothing bad could happen right now.

you were probably going to say that you’ve clogged the toilet with a huge shit, or something-

“do you like rosie?”

holy shit.

...

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[cobrakaisb]

modern day romeo and juliet

requested: yes by @gpiggy98​

summary: you’re in miyagi-do. hawk is in cobra kai. that doesn’t stop you from having feelings for him though. (for the purpose of this imagine hawk and moon never happened)

word count: 1,725 

“i just don’t know moon. what if he doesn’t even like me?” you asked your friend as the two of you set up for the party that she was having. moon gave you a weird look, “why wouldn’t he like you?” she asked. you scoffed at her words, because how could she be so blind? “i’m in miyagi-do moon! he’s in cobra kai! this could never work!” you exclaim, slamming the red cups down on the table. “it totally can! you guys will be like romeo and juliet, except without the suicide part,” moon said and you couldn’t help but laugh at the carefree girl. “yeah i guess,” you mumbled, organizing the cups into neat piles. “you really should tell him y/n,” moon said softly, her hand resting on your shoulder. 

you sighed, if only it were that easy. obviously it’s hard to confess your feelings to any boy, but this was different. you would be confessing your feelings to hawk, a member of your dojo’s rival dojo. but there was more to it. 

your crush on hawk started before he was hawk, way back when he still went by eli. you thought that his sweaters were cute and his sweetheart personality only strengthened your feelings. your crush on eli had all sprouted when the two of you were partnered up for a project in history. the two of you spent so much time together because of the project that you got to know one another really well. once the project was finished you found yourself crushing even harder on the sweet sweater wearing boy. it just so happened that the end of the project coincided with the end of the eli era. now you found yourself attracted to him because of his bad boy attitude and newfound confidence.    

even though your dojos weren’t exactly on a friendly basis, you still found yourself crushing on hawk. your feelings were only getting stronger, and you knew that eventually you’d have to come clean. you just weren’t sure if you could. you always got butterflies in your stomach when he looked at you, even when he was trying to beat you up at the mall food court. not to mention that you could barely speak a word to him without blushing and stuttering. you could feel the nerves building up just thinking about interacting with him.

“come on! people are going to start arriving soon!” moon said, grabbing your hand and pulling you inside her house. you giggled at her actions, but followed her nonetheless. 

by now the party was in full swing. you were standing in the living room, talking to demetri when you noticed hawk sitting on the couch, looking at moon and her girlfriend piper. demetri followed your eyes before looking back at you. “i’m going to go talk to him,” he announced, walking up to the couch. “demetri i don’t-” you started to say, but it was too late because he was already sitting down next to hawk. you watched their interaction from the sidelines, ready to have demetri’s back if anything went down. however, things seemed to be going fine between the former friends. until hawk poured his drink onto demetri. 

“still a pussy,” he said, throwing the cup at him. that was so hot, you thought. you quickly pushed those thoughts aside. “and you’re still an asshole!” you shouted, causing everyone to look your way. why did i say that?, you screamed internally. “what’d you say princess?” hawk asked, walking over to you. “i said you’re still an asshole,” you repeated, trying to be confident, but the stutter in your voice gave it away. hawk smirked at you, stepping closer to you. “and what are you going to do about it princess?” he asked, and you couldn’t help the blush that rose on your cheeks from his use of the pet name and the lack of space between you. you opened your mouth to say something but no words came out. “that’s what i thought,” hawk answered, walking away from you. 

you huffed at his words, following him out of the living room and into the kitchen. hawk was standing at the counter, making himself a drink. you stood next to him, reaching for the jug of lemonade to pour into your cup. “what’d you come to finally do something about me being an asshole?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at you. “no, i just wanted a drink,” you stuttered, looking around at the different alcohol options that moon had. “go with vodka,” he said, grabbing the bottle. “vodka lemonade smacks,” he continued, pouring some into your cup. “thanks,” you mumbled, smiling at him. hawk smiled back, gesturing for you to take a sip. you did, and your face immediately scrunched up at the taste.

hawk laughed at your facial expression. “i’m glad that my suffering is amusing to you,” you said, putting the red cup down. “i need water,” you mumbled, searching for a bottle. “oh come on princess, i barely put any vodka in there,” hawk teased. you scoffed at his words. “yeah okay,” you said, taking a sip from the water bottle you found. hawk chuckled at you. “stop laughing at me,” you whined, shoving him lightly. the laughter soon died down between the two of you, and you were left staring at each other. 

now’s your chance. “listen hawk i have something i’ve been meaning to tell you,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes. hawk’s eyebrows furrowed at your words. “okay,” he said, but it sounded more like a question. you took a deep breath before meeting his eyes. “i like you hawk, alot, and i was wondering if you’d want to go out with me?” you confessed. hawk stood there silently. he was about to say something when he noticed his cobra kai friends walking into the kitchen. suddenly he scoffed at your words and you looked over your shoulder, understanding settling in. “actually, forget i said anything. i’m just gonna go now,” you mumbled, and hawk didn’t try to stop you from leaving. 

you were sitting on the steps out front of moon’s house, trying to keep your tears at bay. “i shouldn’t have said anything. obviously he wouldn’t want to be seen with a miyagi-do,” you mumbled, putting your head in your hands. “is that really what you think?” hawk asked from behind you, and you tensed at the sound of his voice. “that’s what happened right?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at him. hawk sighed, sitting down next to you. “look y/n the cobra kais were there and i couldn’t, i mean what was i even supposed to do?” hawk said unsurely. “it’s okay, hawk, i get it. you can’t be seen with a miyagi-dork right?” you said, looking at him. 

“no that’s not it at all! i mean yes that’s part of it, but that’s the least of my worries right now,” he replied, looking at you. “what?” you asked, confusion clear in your voice. “you’re too good for me y/n, way too good for me. i’m a horrible person. i trashed your dojo, shit i beat demetri up over a fucking yelp review, yet you still want to go out with me, after everything i’ve done. i don’t deserve someone like you, okay? and you don’t deserve to date someone like me,” hawk explained. it was silent between the two of you after his confession. “trust me, it’s better this way,” hawk sighed, getting up to leave. 

“i love you!” you shouted, standing up on the steps, turning to face his retreating figure which stopped at your words. “i’ve loved you since we worked on that history project together. before you flipped the script and were known as hawk. i loved you when you were eli, and i still love you now. my feelings for you aren’t going to change, no matter what happens. no matter what you do or what everybody says, i’m always going to be stuck loving you!” you shouted, looking into his eyes. hawk stared at you, walking towards you. “you don’t mean that,” he whispered. “but i do,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheeks, and hawk leaned into your touch. 

the two of you stood there in silence for what felt like the one hundredth time tonight. hawk slowly started leaning in, and you found yourself meeting him halfway. the second your lips touched, you felt fireworks explode in your stomach. the kiss was slow, and you knew that this was hawk’s way of telling you that he felt the same way about you. when it became difficult to breathe the two of you pulled apart, foreheads touching. “i love you too y/n. i’ve loved you since i was eli, and that’s never going to change for me either,” he breathed out, pulling you closer to him. “and i want to give us a try,” he whispered, your hands falling to the base of his neck. “let’s give us a try,” you agreed, as hawk placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, bright smiles taking over your faces. 

“hey y/n i’m going to take off -” demetri began, but he abruptly stopped when he saw how close you and hawk were. your eyes widened as you realized that you and hawk had been caught by demetri. “demetri listen,” you started to explain, moving out of hawk’s embrace. “no y/n! what the actual fuck? are you seriously making out with hawk right now?” demetri shouted, causing other people’s heads to turn. “i-” you started nervously, but you were once again interrupted, only this time it was by sam. 

“what’s going on?” sam asked, walking up to the three of you. “y/n’s been making out with hawk,” demetri said, pointing at you accusingly. sam looked at you, betrayal written all over her face. “sam listen-” you started to try and explain yourself again. “there’s nothing you can say y/n. you did what you did, and you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences. don’t bother coming back to miyagi-do,” she warned, giving you one last glare before walking away with demetri. you stood there in shock, did you really just get kicked out of your dojo for kissing the boy you’ve had a crush on since forever?

a/n: should i make a part two to this??

[cinnamonrusts]

sparda twins -- reactions

The Sparda twins reactions that you're pregnant with not just one, but two of their children.

DANTE-

You paced the bathroom several times as you gnawed on your thumbnail. Your eyes did not leave the plastic stick that was sitting on the edge of the sink near the toilet. The packaging read that results would be ready in five minutes, but the wait had it feeling like five hours.

Dante had left on a run for some take out and you knew that it was all the way across town, so it left you some free time to figure out your "little" situation. You hadn't told him anything. How could you? The two of you were not in an exactly "family friendly" business. Last thing Dante would need to worry about was a mini Sparda.

You had enough of waiting and snatched the test from the counter. Your eyes narrowed as they fixated on the single horizontal pink line, but widened when it turned into a plus. The blood in your body ran cold and your throat grew dry. It was as if the + sign mocked you and your stomach felt sick. You knew it would happen, Dante called himself the pull out king. Yeah - fucking - right, and this proved him to be very wrong.

The evidence needed to be disposed of, so you wrapped it several times in some toilet paper and shoved it in the trash can. Dante hardly took the trash out and it would be unlikely that he would decide to scour the garbage, so you felt safe. Now all you would have to do is just keep it a secret until you decided how to approach it.

It didn't last long and soon Nico was on the other end of the phone. She let out a happy, "'Eller!" but was greeted by a loud sob along with unintelligible babble. "Woah! Woah! [Y/N], you gotta repeat yourself. I couldn't make out a damn thing! You okay?" the brunette asked, concerned. "I'M PREGNANT!" your sobs now made sense. "Oh, shit," she replied. "Yeah, oh shit is right."

"Did you tell Dante yet?"

You scoffed, "No. I don't think I can," as you spoke on the phone in the kitchen, your eyes fixed on a photo on the fridge of you and your devil hunter boyfriend. The two of you looked so happy and Dante's smile was so bright, the vibes that radiated from the picture kind of gave you some assurance. Maybe Dante would react well to the news and maybe he'd give the same smile of glee at the idea of being a father.

"But you're going to have to at some point. How you goin' to explain a giant belly here in a few months?" Nico was right, there was no way around it. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes tight, "Could you maybe -- I dunno, take me to the doctor?" Nico replied, "I'll be there in a jiff!"

Just as you hung up, Dante walked in with two large bags that smelled of Chinese food. "Food is here and beer is in the fridge!" he waddled into the kitchen and his happy expression turned to one of concern when he noticed you looked upset. "Hey, darlin', you alright?" he set the bags down on the floor and slid to your side, his arms around your waist. His musk along with the heavy smell of greasy Chinese food almost threw you over the edge and caused you to gag. You placed your hand on his chest to prevent him from getting closer. His brows furrowed as he tried to understand what was wrong but the loud horn of Nico's van interrupted. "I'm going out with Nico. I'll be back," you brushed past him, grabbed your coat, and dashed out the door.

You were able to take a breath once you jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Your head rested on the back of the seat and your eyes closed, "Thanks for the ride." Nico placed a hand on your thigh and nodded, "No problem, girlfriend."

Several hours passed and you weren't home yet. Dante's mind raced with different things he could've done to make you so upset. Was it because he hadn't taken the trash out? He would do that soon. Was it because he hadn't shown his appreciation for you relationship lately? He would go tonight to get you some flowers. So, the man did just that. Dante took the overflowed trash out. Then he made sure to hurry, so, that he would be home before you. Dante chose a bouquet of white roses and a goofy card. The card had two hot dogs on the front who held hands with smiles on their faces. It read, "Hot dog! You make me happy!" Dante got a kick out of it and figured you would too. The devil hunter wrote a quick, cheesy blurb in a scribbled mess and signed with his name plus a heart.

He opened the door and was surprised to see you in a chair near the entrance. You seemed to be in a trance and were startled by Dante’s sudden appearance. “I got you these!” he handed his gifts over but his happiness was dropped when you didn’t seem very happy to receive them.

“Dante, I have something I need to tell you.” you found it hard to keep your eyes on his. “Well, here it goes---,” your nose inhaled, then exhaled deeply, “I’m pregnant.”

Dante’s face was void of emotion before he burst into laughter. You grew angry and your facial expressions matched it. “That’s a good one, babe. Whew!,” he clapped his hands and winced a bit with his hand on his side, “Ow! That laugh made me pull a muscle.”

“I’m serious, Dante. I’m pregnant.” you reiterated. “With --- emotion?” he asked as his eyes shifted side to side.

“What? No! With a baby!”

Once Dante heard it for the third time, he realized it all. He was going to be a father and you were going to be the one who would usher in another lineage of the Sparda bloodline. Dante rushed to your side and took a knee as he kneeled beside you. His palm immediately made its way to your stomach as he pictured the life that was within. “Hey there, little buddy.” You cleared your throat into a closed fist which drew his attention to your face. Your right hand raised slowly and you twiddled your two first fingers in the air with a small smile.

That same grin that shined in the photo on your fridge grew across his lips. Both of his hands grabbed either side of your lower torso and he stared at your stomach. “You mean, there’s two of me in there?!” His expressions were warm and overjoyed, relief crashed over you as this situation turned out better than you thought. 

“I’m gonna really need to get outta debt.”

VERGIL-

Your body spoke to you and told you that something was going on. Every morning you felt ill and you could devour anything in sight until nausea overtook you. Lady asked if there was any possibility that you could be pregnant. A snort left your nostrils, “Impossible. Vergil and I don’t have sex enough for that to happen.” your mate was normally not home, you often slept in an empty bed more than one occupied by his strong body. But anytime he was, the act of intimacy could tear the walls down of his brother’s building. He was a focused and controlled man, he knew what he needed to do to prevent another child in his life. You were okay with that, your job was not one that was prime for being a parent. So, there was no doubt in your mind that this was nothing but a simple stomach bug.

“I don’t know, all your symptoms point to it, [Y/N]. Maybe you should take a test,” she attempted to reason with you and you eventually gave in.

The entire time you played it off as just something you did for Lady so that she would get off your back about it. You sat on the closed toilet lid and held the test loosely in between your fingers. The box read that it would take about ten minutes for a result, so you avoided looking at it until roughly around that. But your heart dropped into your stomach when the test did not read negative, but positive. “Shit --- Lady was right.” your cursed and your head dropped between your knees as your mind raced.

Vergil just found out that he had a son, Nero, and now you would throw him the information that he would have now an infant on the way. It was a conversation that you did not want to have. Vergil was a reserved man who did not show you his emotions often or expressed them publicly. You knew he loved you but it took quite sometime for him to open up to you about the fact. He put back his one track set mind toward power and made you a priority in his life. However, he had issues with being around his brother, son, and the other’s -- so he often went off on his own. You learned that this was something he wanted and you did not want to force yourself to go with him always. 

So, this news would not be easy to break to him when he would return in about a week. With the test clenched in your hand, you opened the door to leave the bathroom to only be greeted by Lady who was leaned against the walls with arms crossed. “So, what’s the prognosis?” she pushed herself from the wall and followed you as you pushed past her. You tossed the test into the air with your fingers and she caught it, “What do you think?” you answered before she was able to see for herself. The female was shocked to see that she was correct but didn’t want to say that she told you so.

You were about to slam your room door shut but her boot stopped it, “What’re you going to tell Vergil?” Your back was turned toward her and you faced the window as you observed the rain that pattered against the window. “Fuck if I know. How do you tell someone like him that he’s going to be a father... again.” Lady was silent, you turned on your heels to face her, “Exactly.”

Lady took your hand in hers and gave you a comforting smile, “Hey, he won’t be home for like what-- another week? Let’s get you to the doctor, we’ll figure something out.” You smiled faintly in return, “You’re a hell of a lady, Lady,” she batted her eyelashes, “Oh, I know.~”

A Week Later --

Lady was in your room with you and the door was closed, the two of you spoke of your plan of how you would drop the bomb on your half demon boyfriend.

“Do you really think Vergil will accept it?” you asked just as the white haired man opened the door, “Accept what?” he asked coolly. Lady closed her mouth and first looked at Vergil, then to you, “I’ll just let you guys have some alone time,” she slinked past the Sparda man and closed the door behind her. His gaze never left you and his strong features were unmoved.

You attempted to embrace him as you wrapped your arms around his neck but he gave you a slight push away before you could place a kiss on his cheek. “Will you tell me what you were talking about?” You bit your lower lip and hesitated to confess to him. Vergil took hold of your chin with his fingertips, “Speak.”

You swallowed hard, his blue eyes did not waver and they were just so beautiful that you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’m --- pregnant,” you whispered. It was like time moved to slow motion, Vergil observed each syllable that came from your lips. Pregnant? Pregnant. Pregnant.

 A twitch in Vergil’s furrowed brows caught your attention, it proceeded to twitch several times before he closed his eyes and released his grip on your chin. “How?” You shrugged, “I thought we were careful every time, even with our more adventurous hookups.” He didn’t speak and just listened, “Why?”

“Why?” you repeated, “That’s what happens, Vergil. I can’t really make it anymore clear.” As per usual, you couldn’t read him and his thoughts were a mystery to you.

“So, I’ll be a father once again. At least I’m currently aware of this one.” he sighed.

“Two,” you interjected. It was as if you could see his ears perk up when you mentioned a number higher than he assumed. “Two? Another set of Sparda twins...” he was quiet before you could see a small smile on his lips. Vergil called for you to come to him, which you obeyed.

He wrapped his right arm around your upper half. His left hand rested on your stomach with a loved filled touch. His chin rested on top of your head as he imagined what they looked like and what life would be like in several months.

He thought to himself, maybe -- just maybe -- he truly deserved a happy life, despite all the things he had done. He now felt a stronger urge to want to be around you, the babies, and even Dante more. 

“Do I deserve this happiness, [Y/N]?” 

Your hand rested on his that was still on your stomach, “Of course. You always have.”

[whumperooni]

Just the two of us

Natsuo Todoroki x Reader

Tags/Warnings: unprotected sex, dubcon, ditzy!virgin!Reader, creampies, manipulation, pseudo incest, big brother/little sister kink, natsuo being a perv

Word count: 7.7k

This was written in response to an anon! It...well, it spiraled out of control so I’m putting this in an actual post. Thank you so much nonny for sending me such a good thirst/prompt!

Reader-chan is aged up!!!!!

It’s not often that Natsuo gets the house to himself. He has a big family- there’s usually someone around to keep him company. Today, though, it’s empty and he’s the only Todoroki on the estate. Fuyumi’s grading papers at a friend’s house. Shoto is training with Deku. Enji is off doing god knows what- Natsuo doesn’t particularly care where his father is. So it’s just him for now. And it’s nice. He’s taken advantage of the solitude and claimed the living room as his own. He’s spread his textbooks and notes all over the floor and brought in a bunch of snacks from the kitchen- some beer and chips and some celery that Fuyumi must have cut up at some point. The tv’s on, but the volume is low so he can concentrate on his work and he’s brought his pillows from his room to make it extra comfy. It’s nice. It’s relaxed. It’s some peace and quiet that Natsuo didn’t realize he needed until he actually received it. Small blessings, he thinks as he munches on some chips and scrawls notes out on a rough draft of an essay. His solitude is only interrupted when the doorbell chimes. Natsuo’s brow raises at the noise and he tilts his head back to look toward the hallway, lets out a soft huff. He doesn’t know who could be visiting- everyone else is still out and about- and he doesn’t remember any of his friends asking to stop by. Maybe it’s a delivery? It’s not that late yet. A hum leaves Natsuo and he stands from he’s been kicked back, wipes his hands on the sides of his sweatpants. He pulls on a discarded hoodie as he goes to answer the door and tugs it on with a yawn right as the bell goes off again. The impatience is a little annoying, but Natsuo manages to keep a frown from his face when he opens the door. Not that it would stay for very long anyway- when he slides the door open he’s greeted by someone that always manages to wipe away his frustration. You smile at him- a finger twirling a lock of your hair- and Natsuo’s heart stops for a moment at the sweet way you chirp out, “Natsuo-nii!” in greeting. Crap, it’s you- sweet, cute, bumbling and adorable you. Shoto’s friend and Natsuo’s shameful lust- a walking, talking fantasy that already has Natsuo swallowing and his self-control slipping. He’s had a thing for you ever since Shoto brought you home for a group study session with some of his other classmates. He’s had a thing for you ever since you started coming over without the other third year UA students accompanying you. He’s had a thing for you ever since you first called him Natsuo-nii in that saccharine voice of yours. You’re his type through and through- cute and clueless and oh so innocent. It’s mean of him to think, but he’s not sure how an airhead like you got into UA- he’s not really even sure how you were the one that managed to claim Shoto’s friendship. It doesn’t matter, really, because you’re here smiling all honey-sweet at him and he’s all too aware that Shoto isn’t- that, for now, the two of you are all alone just like he’s guiltily imagined so many times over these past few months. Natsuo wets his lips and takes a deep breath, offers a smile right back at you. “What’s up?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe. “Are you looking for Shoto? He’s not here.” You blink and he watches as confusion spreads across your pretty face, as your brows furrow and your lips set into a tiny pout. “He’s not? But he told me that he would be home after training…” Your voice comes out bewildered and cute and Natsuo watches you through his lashes as you dig your phone out of your purse and start to scroll through it. “He’s still training,” Natsuo tells you, eyeing the way your head tilts as you frown at your phone. Temptation pricks at him and Natsuo has to guiltily shove it back before he can give into any bad ideas. “At least, I think he is. I don’t know when he was planning to finish.” “Eh??? But we were gonna watch a movie together,” you pout- voice tilting with a whine that should be more annoying than endearing. Natsuo kind of likes it, the way your voice pitches with your dissatisfaction, and he can’t help wondering how your whines would sound under different circumstances. Like a dream, probably. Natsuo offers you another smile- this one a little apologetic- and he rubs the back of his neck, watches as your hips shift to the side and cause your short skirt to flutter across your thighs. God, he wants to run his hand up them. “Sorry,” Natsuo apologizes to you. “You know how he gets when he’s training- he’s probably gotten caught up in it.” Your lips quirk in disappointment and he watches you sigh- arms folding across your chest and your demeanor wilting as fast as a daisy in a desert. He thinks to say something to you- what he doesn’t know- but then you perk up in an instant and flash him one of your so easily summoned smiles. “It’s not your fault,” you tell him sweetly. “I can wait for him to get back! Oh, if that’s okay, of course. Can I wait for him here, Natsuo-nii? Is that alright?” The temptation he had pushed away comes back with a vengeance and Natsuo has to swallow when several bad ideas flash through his mind. Of course you would ask if you could stay in that adorable voice of yours. Of course you would call him Natsuo-nii and flutter your lashes without thought. Clueless girl- don’t you know how weak he is? Don’t you know the danger of being alone with a grown man with impure impulses? Fuck, he needs to keep it together. He needs to behave. “Natsuo-nii?” Natsuo blinks and he clears his throat, smiles down at you while you look up at him with curious eyes. “Sorry,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh. “Yeah, of course you can wait here.” What else is he supposed to say, he reasons. It’s not like he can be rude and deny you, turn you away. Natsuo is a nice guy and he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, rebuff someone important to his little brother- that would be a terrible thing to do. He can’t just be impolite. ...right? You light up in an instant at his agreement- beaming up at him and letting out a pleased little noise before beginning to kick off your shoes. Natsuo watches you, knowing deep down that he’s being a fool, and tells himself that he needs to keep it together. He doesn’t think Shoto would appreciate him trying to get handsy with you. (God, he wants to, though) When your shoes are off, Natsuo steps into the hallway and beckons you inside before closing the door and isolating the two of you from the rest of the world. “I was just studying in the living room,” he tells you. “No one else is home so feel free to do what you want.” Your head tilts with surprise- you’ve never been here with only one Todoroki in the house- and Natsuo watches as you hum and rock on your heels. “Can I hang out with you?” you ask, smiling up at him. “It would be weird wanderin’ around by myself.” That’s true. No one would feel comfortable like that, probably. So there’s nothing wrong with Natsuo agreeing to it- nothing sleazy about that at all, definitely not. It’s not wrong when you were the one to suggest it. ...right? Natsuo blinks and he sweeps his gaze over you, takes in your short skirt and candy-sweet smile. He nods and ignores the faint guilt that flits through him as he smiles back at you. “Yeah, of course. C’mon.” Another pleased noise from you and Natsuo has to turn away before his shame and satisfaction can take over his face. His heart pounds a little as he heads back to the living room- your light footsteps following close behind- and Natsuo immediately grabs his beer and downs the rest of it as soon as he plops back down onto the tatami mat. You take the couch and that’s a relief- a disappointment too. ...it’s probably for the best. Natsuo watches as you get comfortable on the couch- a pillow tucked and hugged underneath your chin and your knee high clad legs lazily kicking and stirring in the air as you pull out your phone. Your shirt has rucked up a little from where you’ve scootched to get more comfortable and there’s just a sliver of lace peeking over the waistband of your too short skirt. Natsuo looks away and pulls a pillow over his lap to hide the way he’s beginning to tent his sweatpants. Pervert, he scolds himself. You’re an absolute pervert. (Even with the self-admonishing, though, he’s still so keenly aware of how it’s just you and him in the house, how adoringly you look up to him, and how easy it would be to get you riding his fingers, squirming and mewling underneath him.) Natsuo swallows hard and he reaches for his drink, takes a deep, annoyed breath when he remembers that, oh yeah, he had just smashed the rest of it. He needs another one. “Hey, do you want anything to drink?” he asks. “I gotta grab something from the kitchen.” You blink at him, head tilting, and then you smile sweetly, nod as your dimples flash his way. “Yes, please,” you tell him so very politely. “Just some water.” Natsuo nods and he gathers up his trash, stands up and heads toward the kitchen. He can’t help throwing a look your way as he passes by the couch and it almost KO’s him when he gets a look at cotton white panties peeking between parted thighs. Natsuo swallows hard and he walks to the kitchen stiffly. Think about something else, he tells himself firmly. Think about Fuyumi in her robe and face masks. Think about Shoto coming home covered in slime after a villain attack. Think about dad. Natsuo’s cock wilts as he imagines his family and he leans against the counter, breathes out a huge sigh of relief. Something’s going to end up happening if someone doesn’t come home soon. (He wants something to happen so bad. You probably wouldn’t mind- you’re such a sweet little ditz and he knows he could make you bliss out with pleasure. You’d like it- little darlings like you always end up loving being on your knees, getting your warm holes bred and your mouth filled with big fingers, hard cocks.) Natsuo sighs and he adjusts himself before grabbing another beer, a bottle of water for you. When he steps back in the living room, Natsuo finds you kneeling on the floor and peeking at his notes- face confused but curious as you skim over them. It’s a little cute and it’s an opportunity to get close- something more innocent than his other urges that he can’t help giving into. Natsuo sits down right beside you- thigh brushing against yours- and smiles at you when you look his way, offers you the water you had requested. “Here,” he tells you. He gets a hummed “thank you” in response and he watches through his lashes as you take a sip of water, traces the movement of your throat with his gaze as you swallow it down. He wants to follow that movement with his mouth, trail his tongue up that soft flesh and make you whimper and cling to him. He wants to do so much. “Natsuo-nii, you’re so smart, you know- I can’t understand half of what your notes say!” Of course charming, simple you can’t understand his notes. It’s adorable that you try, though. Natsuo smiles at the compliment, ego shamefully stroked, and he rubs the back of his neck whenever you smile back. “Thanks,” he says with a little laugh. “But it’s hard for me too- all that jargon makes my brain turn to mush after a while.” You nod sympathetically and Natsuo has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t breathe in sharp whenever your hand reaches out and pats his knee. “You should take a break when that happens,” you advise, voice and face solemn. It’s funny to see you serious, like you’re telling him something that he doesn’t already know- like a little kid instructing their older brother on basic things everyone else already has a grasp on. “Mmm, yeah,” Natsuo agrees, still smiling. Your hand hasn’t moved from his knee; he wants to drag it up higher. “I probably should.” You nod again, face still solemn, and Natsuo wets his lips as an idea pushes past the weak hold he has on his self-control. ...there’s nothing wrong with watching a movie together, he reasons. It’s just a movie- that’s it. It’s completely innocent. You’ve watched movies with her before- this isn’t any different. (Except that the two of you are all alone and movies with two people wrapped up in solitude tend to lead to more salacious activities.) Natsuo licks his lips and he offers you an easy grin, sinks further into temptation. “I could use a break actually,” he tells you. “You wanna watch something with me?” Your eyes light up and crinkle as you smile- enthusiasm radiating from you like an easily pleased child. He almost kisses you then, but he holds back and reaches for the remote instead. “Here,” he offers, “pick something out.” A happy little noise leaves you and that has Natsuo fond, smiling. He moves to get more comfortable and leans his back against the couch, watches as you flip through the channels with a concentrated look on your cute, cute face. An idea strikes him when he sees you squirming to get more comfortable- a bad idea that he absolutely should not give into. An idea that he absolutely gives into. It wouldn’t be that bad, he tells himself. She’s so physical anyways- it’s not like she hasn’t done that before and it’s not like you’re going to actually do anything. Natsuo watches you and then he reaches out, pulls you back without warning to rest between his legs- your back to his chest and his thighs bracketing your body. You tilt your head back to look at him- wide eyed and surprised- and Natsuo just shrugs, grabs a blanket to drape over his shoulders. “This is more comfortable,” he explains as if that can dismiss any of the improper closeness. “And I’m cold.” A lie, but you take it with a smile and a giggle. There’s a noise of something like contentment that leaves you and Natsuo breathes in deep when you wiggle closer against him, when you let out a happy sigh. “Sho-chan never wants to cuddle,” you complain as you snuggle in close. “This is nice.” Hell yeah it is. Natsuo hums and he hesitates for only a moment before chancing wrapping his arms around your waist. The smile you flash up at him gets Natsuo dangerously close to grabbing your chin and kissing you breathless, but he’s able to clumsily grasp his slipping self-control and only gives you a smile in return. Soon enough, you find an old movie to watch and your focus goes to that. Vampires and magic capture your attention fully, but Natsuo ignores it to focus on you instead- soft, pretty, cute you snuggled up against him and radiating nothing but warmth and trust. With you so close he can smell your perfume- a scent of vanilla and peaches that makes his mouth water, a scent that further cements your innocence in his eyes and just makes him want to bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathe you in and kiss along your throat until all you can do is moan. Natsuo holds you a little tighter without even realizing and he buries his face in your hair, closes his eyes. He only becomes aware of the action when you let out a curious noise and he has to hold back a groan, mentally scold himself for giving into all his desires without even pretending to put on a fight for the illusion of morality. What’s the point of trying to pretend he’s better than this, though? He’s already gotten off to you before. He’s jerked himself to the thought of you on your knees and your pretty face so innocent as you ask “Natsuo-nii, what’s a blowjob?” He’s cum to the image of you sat in his lap- pleading so sweetly for him to teach you things you’ve been so curious about. He’s fucked his fist to the thought of stuffing your cunny with his cock and making you squeal his name- short skirt flipped up and your soft tits bouncing with each snap of his hips. He’s already thoroughly ruined you in his mind; he’s already came to the thought of losing the grip on his self-control and fucking you speechless. It’s not like he can lie to himself when he’s already spilled his seed over his fist so many times to the thought of you. He knows he’s not better than his impulses and fantasies. And he knows, maybe, that this could be something that’s just meant to happen. Hell, better him than any of the little horny fuckers you call classmates. Natsuo hums and he noses at your hair, skims his fingers along your stomach. “You smell really nice,” he murmurs. “Makes me...hungry.” You giggle a little, dumb and clueless, and you stay still in his hold- not moving even when his hands run down your sides and fall to the tops of your thighs. You don’t seem to mind when he noses down the side of your head and hooks his chin over your shoulder and Natsuo’s lashes lower at the content smile on your face. “You smell nice too, Natsuo-nii,” you chirp, complimenting him in return. Natsuo hums and allows his fingers to trace along your thighs- fingers dipping just over the top to glance along the soft insides. You blink at that, lashes fluttering, and Natsuo doesn’t bother stopping even when you tilt your head his way. You’re not blushing- you just look curious and a little clueless like the naive airhead you are. Even when his hands replace his fingers and his palms cup the insides of your thighs, all you do is smile like the perfect little ditz that you are and lean back further into his chest. Natsuo hums and he accepts your non-reactions as consent, feels the last few threads of his self-control begin to snap and fray. “You’re really cute too, you know,” he murmurs- squeezing your thighs ever so lightly. “Bet all the boys are chasin’ after you.” You do blush a bit this time- pink dusting over your cheeks and your head moving in a tiny little shake. “No?” Natsuo asks, brow raising. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a boyfriend- you’re much too pretty to be single.” Your flush flares oh so sweetly and it’s hard for him not to dig his fingers deep into your thighs, run his hand up high. The “Natsuo-nii” that you half squeak, half whine at the compliment is nothing short of adorable and, really, he’s lucky you’re angled in your lean against his chest, that you can’t feel his hardness against your back. “Come on,” he coaxes- all friendly and teasing like a “big brother” should be. “You can tell me.” You squirm a little and it causes his hands to slide closer to the hem of your skirt, makes his heart beat a little faster. The shy bite to your lip has Natsuo hungry for you and he almost bites his own in want. “I- I don’t have a boyfriend,” you mumble, face turning just a bit like you’re trying to hide a little. “I’ve never...I’ve never had a boyfriend.” Fuck you’re such a sweet, untouched thing. Natsuo swallows a groan and he flexes his fingers against your thighs, tries his best not to just grab onto you. “That’s a shame,” he tells you, voice dipping low. “Cute thing like you should be appreciated and adored.” The pink on your cheeks flare into a darling red and Natsuo feels his lips twitch with a touch of amusement whenever a shy, pleased smile flickers across your face. He’s not really used to you being bashful, but he likes it- likes it a lot, actually. “No boyfriend at all?” he presses with a murmur. “You’ve at least gotten a kiss before, right?” He is, admittedly, disappointed whenever you give a small nod. He is not disappointed, however, when the muscles in your thighs flex and your legs spread just a tiny bit wider, when you only blink whenever his hands dare to smooth down right to the very hem of your skirt. “Kind of?” you tell him- voice uncertain and flush lingering. “Um, Kacchan kissed me on the last school trip but that was only ‘cause Kaminari dared him to.” Your shyness peaks a little, voice growing softer with each word and Natsuo wets his lips when you continue with, “It- It was just a peck. Not a real kiss.” Any disappointment he had fades away and Natsuo leans over you a little bit, cages you more against him and tries not to grin. Careful, a voice whispers in the back of his mind. You don’t want to scare her away. Natsuo hums and he strokes his fingers along your soft thighs, enjoys the small squirm from you that it brings. You still don’t pull away and, god, he’s so certain now that you’d let him do almost anything. “Sounds like a kiss to me,” he muses. “What do you mean by a real kiss?” You squirm more and, god, now his hands are just underneath your skirt. He’s not sure if you notice. He’s not sure if he cares anymore. “Like, um,” you say, a little dumb but still so sweet, “like with tongues and stuff…” You sound like a kid- naive and innocent and without any real knowledge of kisses and intimacy. Maybe it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does but, god, it makes him feel predatory and hungry. “With tongues and stuff?” he asks- unable to help a little tease. You pout at him, but there’s a smile quirking up on the corners of your lips despite your petulance at being teased and, god, he’s really too weak to hold back anymore. “So you mean,” he murmurs and reaches a hand to cup your face, “something like this.” Before you can react, Natsuo leans down and presses his lips against yours. A surprised noise leaves you at the sudden kiss, but it’s nothing that Natsuo hears- his ears are full with the sound of his blood rushing and his heart pounding hard and fast. You don’t pull away from him. You don’t shove him or try to squirm away. You let yourself be kissed and you flush beneath his hand- startled and confused but unoffended by your best friend’s big brother molding his lips against your. It’s only when he traces your bottom lip with his tongue that you react more than being a passive little doll- you gasp, softly, and press forward just a bit against him, let something close to a whimper crawl from your throat. Natsuo’s free hand finds your other cheek then and he slips his tongue between parted lips, lets it brush against yours and swallows a groan when you instinctively start to kiss back. Such a good girl. Your lips are so soft- cherry flavored and sweet. The wavering, whimpering, unsure noises that you make has his mind reeling with greed and need and, honestly, he could kiss you for hours on end. He wants to do so much more, though. He needs to do so much more. Natsuo hums into the kiss and moves a hand down to the middle of your back, pushes you even closer. The way you tremble underneath his hand is so cute, but it’s even cuter when you curl your fingers against his chest, look up at him with half-shut eyes and flushed cheeks whenever he breaks the kiss. Natsuo smiles down at you- boyish and friendly- and he revels in the way you press your face against his palm, how you let out a wanting- if confused and flustered- sound. “Sorry,” he apologizes, not meaning it at all. “You’re just so cute, you know- I couldn’t help myself.” Your blush flares from sakura pink to rose red and Natsuo takes pleasure in the way you squirm shyly, grip onto the fabric of his hoodie. The “Natsuo-nii” you mumble out is soft and bashful, far from the whine he had expected. He likes it, though, and enjoys the sheer haze pulled over your eyes, the nearly dazed look that plays across your face. “Did you like it?” he asks, smoothing his hand from your cheek to your chin and pressing his thumb against the plush flesh of your bottom lip. Your mouth opens automatically, unthinkingly, and it takes all of his weathered down self-control not to slip his fingers inside that wet, warm hole. “Was it real enough for you?” A soft noise and a hitch of your breath, lashes fluttering with some stray embarrassment. This time the “Natsuo-nii” you mumble is trailed after by a small whine and Natsuo hums at it, strokes his thumb along your bottom lip. He doesn’t bother trying to coax you more- your compliance and the way you're still pressed against him is enough consent for him to capture your lips in another kiss, to slip his tongue inside your soft mouth and muffle the whine that sounds from you. Natsuo kisses you hotly, deeply, wetly. He pours all his pent-up hunger into it and lets his self-control slip away completely, groans into your mouth and pulls you into his lap. You let yourself be manhandled like the dumb, docile, good girl you are and Natsuo grips your hips once you’re seated pretty on his lap, groans again whenever he feels your little mound brush against his hard cock. The gasp that you let out whenever he pushes your hips forward and back to hump against him almost has him snarling- something primitive and rough in the back of his mind getting off on the innocent, pure surprise you radiate as your clothed cunny is made to grind against his dick. You whimper, hips moving on their own, and Natsuo breaks the kiss to tangle fingers in your hair, watch you through half-shut eyes as something like wonder flickers over your flushed face. “I- feels good, Natsuo-nii,” you mumble, head dropping to watch as your hips rock against him. “I don’t- why does it…” A mewl leaves you as you trail off and Natsuo places his hand to your neck, makes your head tilt back so he can nose against the soft flesh of your throat. You shudder whenever he kisses you there and Natsuo hums deeply in satisfaction, licks a little stripe and makes you moan so, so, so quietly. “Feels good because you’re grindin’ against my cock,” Natsuo hums out. “Feels good ‘cause your pussy is excited for it.” Your gasp this time is almost scandalized- cheeks flaring in shock at his words and the way your pussy is starting to throb with a slow, honeyed pulse. Natsuo can’t help his amused grin against your neck and he takes pleasure in the way you whimper whenever he rocks his hips to meet yours. You’re so warm even if he’s done so little- clothed cunny radiating heat as it glides over his hard-on. He desperately wants to feel your warmth with his fingers, slide a digit along your surely wet slit and make you fuck yourself on his fingers until you’re leaking and glazed over. Another gasp as you hump against him and Natsuo places a wet, hot kiss to your throat, breathes in deep whenever your hands grip onto his shoulders. “Sit up on your knees, baby,” he orders in a murmur, pulling his head back to take in the glory of your carmine cheeks and parted, trembling lips. You lashes flutter with the command, some disappointment and reluctance flashing across your already fuzzy face. You obey him, though, and Natsuo’s eyes fall half-shut whenever your hands grip his shoulders tighter, when you do what he says without any thought or protest. Such a good girl. When his hands grip your thighs and push them further apart, a confused noise sounds from you. Another follows whenever your skirt gets flipped over your hips, but the sound you make whenever his hand rubs over your cunny is flustered and surprised- a gasp that morphs into a whimper when the heel of his palm grinds down against your clit. The oh so soft whine of “Natsuo-nii” you let out has Natsuo groaning and he grinds his palm harder against you, narrows his eyes in pleasure whenever your hips buck against his hand. “Call me nii-chan,” he orders, voice low with a growl that wants to sound. “Call me big brother.” You whine again and it’s so loud this time, so needy as your back arches and you grind like a well-experienced slut against his palm. “Nii...nii-chan…” Natsuo closes his eyes at the whimper and he smooths his free hand over his dick- grinds up against his palm in a mirrored movement of your own needy little undulations. “Good girl,” he breathes out. “So good for me.” Another whimper and Natsuo hooks his fingers underneath your panties, tugs them to the side. You squeal a little at that, hips moving in a surprised shake, but you’re quick to gasp and settle whenever he glides a finger up your slit, rubs against your clit. “Nii- nii-chan! Feels- it feels good!” Of course it does- he doubts you’ve felt this sort of pleasure before, that you can even comprehend and keep up with the way your body is building and chasing after an orgasm. He’s going to give you your first cum and, fuck, that’s hot- that’s so hot. Natsuo hums and strokes his finger over your clit, circles it with just the tip of the digit and watches with a half-smile as you gasp and start falling apart so sweetly at his touch. You’re warm- just like he had imagined- and Natsuo breathes in deep as he feels his cock twitch at the thought of sinking into your plush heat, stirring up those hot insides. You shake as he teases the wet hole of your pussy and Natsuo realizes that he wants you to come for the very first time on his cock. With a lick of his lips, Natsuo pulls his hand away from you. Disappointment, petulance cross across your pretty, hazy face and Natsuo huffs fondly at the quick panic of desperation that rises in your eyes, the way you let out a needy whine. He pushes you back from him and down onto your laying on the floor and underneath him- legs sprawled and skirt flipped up, panties slicked to the side to show off your wet, swollen cunny. You whimper as he looks over you hungrily and Natsuo is quick to kiss your confusion and embarrassment away. Your kisses are so frantic- clumsy and overwhelmed and needy as your hands cling to his hoodie, scrabble along his back. He adores your inexperienced attempts at kissing him back, but he loves the way your back arches whenever he slots himself between your thighs and grinds down against you. Natsuo swallows and smothers the moan that you let out whenever his hands push up your shirt and squeeze your soft breasts. He breaks from the kiss, though, to hear your mewls and cute little squeals when he teases your nipples. The way you grip his hair whenever he sucks one of those flushed peaks into his mouth almost makes him lose his mind and Natsuo groans into your soft skin, snaps his hips into a hard grind against your soaked pussy. “Natsuo- onii-chan, feels- it feels-” Feels so good, right? A whine leaves you and you interrupt your own babbling, whimper into his mouth whenever he surges up and crushes his hungry lips against yours. You don’t notice whenever he reaches a hand to push his sweatpants down and out of the way and Natsuo groans whenever his dick slides against your wet cunt. The panicked noise that leaves you doesn’t deter him at all- nor does the way you squirm in uncertainty underneath him. He only pulls his face back from the kiss to look over you when you whimper and he smiles at you sweetly- nice and friendly and so, so warm. The way his face softens helps you to relax a little, but nervousness still claims your expression- eyes wide and teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as you tremble underneath him. “Nii- nii-chan, I’m...I can’t...I’m…’m a virgin.” Your embarrassed, anxious mutter only makes him that much harder. Natsuo’s face softens more even as his lust rises- smile nearly beatific, cock aching- and he hums as his hands reach to cup your face- arms hooking your thighs over the crooks of his elbows and pressing them close to your chest. He kisses your forehead and it’s chaste enough to make you nearly melt, flusters you even more with how it juxtaposes against his hard cock laying against your pussy. “That’s okay,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek and then your lips. “I’ll be gentle.” “W- wait-!” Another kiss to your forehead and Natsuo cants his hips back and then pushes them forward, sinks into your virgin, wet cunt. You clench down around him immediately- a sob tearing from your lips as your tight, tight insides are forced to stretch open to accommodate his dick. It’s hot in you- honeyed and so fucking sweet, syrupy. Natsuo moans as he slowly fills you inch by aching inch- mind hazing over and face burying into the crook over your neck as your plush insides flutter and squeeze around him oh so desperately. He nuzzles you whenever he hears you sniffle and whimper and lifts his head to smile at you- face drunken with bliss and smile so serene as he cups your cheek, grinds into your tight little cunny. “Shh, baby,” he croons, fingers brushing a stray tear from your cheek and comforting you as your face contorts with pain. “Onii-chan’s got you. You’re okay.” It’s horrible, but he gets that much harder whenever you sniffle and whimper, press into his touch in search of consolation. He doesn’t feel bad about it, though- can’t feel bad about it whenever your molten, heady insides squeeze around him in accompaniment to the onii-chan you mumble out. Natsuo hums, satisfied and smiling, and he kisses you sweetly, smiles a bit bigger when he pulls his head back to take in your trembling, pouting lips and wet lashes. Such an innocent little thing. So adorable. Natsuo grinds his hips against you and watches as you squirm underneath him, groans at the hiccuping little sob that sounds from you whenever he rolls his hips back and rocks them forward so he can fill you fully once more. “So tight,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips and sinks into your heat slowly. “So wet. You’re such a good girl.” A soft noise makes its way from your throat and Natsuo revels in how your cunny flutters around his cock, how your body relaxes ever so slightly with the praise. The “nii-san” you sniffle out is sulky- like a kid pouting after scraping their knee- but it’s sweet too- soft and whiny and hot. “Mmm,” Natsuo hums, nuzzling against your cheek, “gonna make you feel so good, I promise.” Another soft noise and then a mewl, your head tilting back and fingers curling into your palms as Natsuo begins to fuck you slowly. He takes the opportunity to latch his lips onto your throat and groans as he starts to suck a dark little bruise, slides his hands up your arms and laces his fingers through yours as you gasp and moan, clench around him. Fuck you feel so good- silken and sweet, scorching with your honeyed heat. You could make a man lose his mind- you are making Natsuo lose his mind. He could stay buried in your pussy forever. Natsuo groans against your throat and snaps his hips against you harder, fucks your pulpy, mushy, perfect insides faster. You gasp and whimper at it, but your cunny clenches around him eagerly- hot insides gripping at his cock likes they’re trying to keep him from pulling out, like they’re trying to suck him in even deeper. “Nii- nii-chan...nii-chan, please- I- feels good…” Look at you- gone from sniffling to begging in just a second. He knew you’d be such a good little girl for him, that a darling like you was made to be fucked. Natsuo hums- low and satisfied- and he noses up your neck and along your jawline, catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth as he fucks you faster. He almost doesn’t want to come- you feel that good around him. He wants to live in this moment forever- this perfect slice of heaven with you moaning and squeezing around his cock, gasping and gripping his hands tight as pleasure starts to build and overwhelm your simple little mind. He doesn’t want to come but, fuck, how can he not? No one could resist your whines and your whimpers, the clench of your pussy. No one could hold back with you mewling “onii-chan, please- more!” No one could keep in control with you panting and unraveling- confused over so much pleasure but so eager for it, so greedy as your mind blanks and all you can do is focus on the feeling of your cunny being fucked and filled by a hard, hard cock. Natsuo grits his teeth as you squeeze around him frantically, struggles to hold back as you whine and look up at him with almost panicked eyes. “Nii- nii-san, feels- feels-” You can’t finish the sentence, can’t even begin to string words together. The way your voice pitches with need and distress has Natsuo’s cheeks flushing as he fucks into your wet, squelching pussy and he groans as you whine, throb around him. “S’okay,” he assures you- drunk on the feeling of your pussy and almost dizzy from your cute, overwhelmed need. “You’re just gonna come, baby. It’s fine; you can do it. Fuck- come for me, baby. Come on my cock.” You sob and your body tries to arch, tenses as you clamp around him tight, tight, tight. He cries out as you begin to come and he fucks into you without thought- primal and frenzied and rough as you cry out his name and dig your nails into the back of his hands, pant and shake and fall apart into a whimpering mess underneath. Natsuo fucks into your pulsing, coming, creaming pussy once, twice, three times and then he trips after you into pleasure- moaning and grinding his hips tight against yours as he fills your cunny with hot, wet, sticky cum. You come again from that like a good girl- pussy fluttering and a sweet mewl slipping from your lips as one orgasm passes into the next- and Natsuo trembles from the overstimulation of your greedy little cunny, groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck as he humps into your cum coated insides. “Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he breathes out- hot and sated and almost lightheaded as you pulse around him sweetly. “So good for me.” A whimper, a mewl. He lifts his head whenever you mumble out a sleepy “onii-chan” and smiles to himself at the dumb, blissed out look on your face, the flush on your cheeks and the soft noise that leaves you whenever he presses a kiss to your lips. “See?” he murmurs to you. “Told you nii-san would take care of you.” Another soft noise- this one nearly thoughtful as you give a tiny little nod. Natsuo hums his satisfaction and kisses you again- slips his tongue into your wet, yielding mouth and coaxes a tired moan from you. He could fuck you again- he’s sure you want him to fuck you again- but he knows that his time is running short, that he doesn’t have enough left to fuck you even more stupid and sweet. Next time though… Anticipation and satisfaction twine through Natsuo’s chest and he grins to himself, runs a hand along your side and kisses you chastely as he slowly, reluctantly slips out from your honeyed insides. The disappointed whine that you let out almost has him sliding back in, but Natsuo steadies himself and slowly backs off of you, strokes his cock as he eyes your leaking cunny oozing out his fat load and then tucks himself away. You don’t move- eyes heavy and cheeks rosy, chest moving with soft little pants as you try to catch your breath. You look like a dream like that- beautiful and tempting; a fucked out doll beckoning even more pleasure. Natsuo licks his lips as his gaze travels over you and he takes a deep, deep breath to try to bolster his self-control, reaches and fixes your panties so your weeping pussy is hidden from sight. “You okay?” Natsuo asks- voice soft and sweet and full of care. A quiet little noise leaves you and he has to hide a smile whenever you sit up- arms trembling and eyes blinking slowly, stupidly before you rub at them with a fist. “I’m...I’m okay,” you mumble- voice faint, drunk with sated pleasure. “Felt...felt good, nii-chan. Was so warm…” Natsuo hums and he smiles as you yawn, looks over you in satisfaction. You blink whenever he touches your face and he can see you practically melt as he pets your flushed cheek. So sweet. Such a good girl. “Why don’t you take a nap in Shoto’s room?” he suggests. “Just until he gets home.” You hum, face turning to nuzzle into his palm, and he takes that as compliance. Natsuo hesitates before sending you off, though, and licks his lips nervously as a bit of panic peeks up through his satiation. “Hey,” he says, voice just a bit louder to grab your attention. You blink over at him, face still so drowsy and sweet, and Natsuo takes a deep breath. “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he tells you- firm but trying to sound like the nice Natsuo-nii that you’ve always adored. Confusion blossoms over your cute little face and Natsuo swallows as you frown, as your brows furrow in puzzlement. “Why not?” you ask so very innocently. It’s cute, but he can’t quite appreciate it while nerves are jittering under his skin. “Because...because they might get jealous,” he lies- though that could be true as well. “And you might get in trouble with your sensei and your parents if they find out.” Your sleepy eyes widen a little at the thought of getting into trouble and Natsuo watches your frown grow, uneasiness creep over your frame. “I- I don’t wanna get in trouble,” you mumble, lip bitten and voice distressed. “I...I don’t want that.” Natsuo nods, relieved by your reaction, and he pets your cheek as you begin to fret over imagined scolding. “You won’t get in trouble if know one knows,” he reassures you. “You just can’t tell anyone, okay?” You squirm, still nervous and frowning, but you nod just the same, curl your fingers into your skirt. “I won’t tell anyone,” you swear, voice almost eager in its sincerity. “I promise!” Natsuo smiles at you and he feels you relax underneath his hand as he nods. “That’s a good girl,” he tells you and pats your cheek. You blink when he leans closer to you and Natsuo takes one last, stolen second to press his lips to yours. “Don’t tell anyone. And...and maybe some other day we can do this again- if you keep your promise, that is.” Your eyes widen at the thought and something wicked and pleased purrs in Natsuo’s chest when you flush and nod shyly, squirm in front of him like an eager little thing. He stands and he offers you a hand, helps you up from the floor. There’s one last pleased noise that leaves you whenever he graces the top of your head with a kiss and Natsuo hums before lightly swatting your tush and nudging you toward the hallway. “Go rest. And remember not to say anything to my brother.” You nod- cheeks flushed and the motion solemn- and Natsuo watches with a satisfied smile as you scamper toward Shoto’s room- legs wobbling and just a little splayed. Well. That was something. Natsuo’s smile twitches into a grin and he sighs in contentment as he flops down onto the couch, closes his eyes and thanks the gods for letting him indulge in such a forbidden temptation, for having you react like such a sweet, perfect little darling for him. Natsuo hardens a bit as he savors the memory of your honeyed insides and he hums as he reaches a hand to smooth over his cock, grins contentedly as his mind flashes through all the other things he needs to introduce you to. Maybe next time he’ll teach you how to swallow him down, suckle around his cock. Maybe he’ll have you wrap your soft hand around him, show you how he likes to be stroked. Maybe he’ll have you ride him until you’re exhausted and unable to move, helpless and easily flipped over to be fucked and filled again and again and again. There are so many things to look forward to. Natsuo smiles to himself and he quietly starts to plot how he can get the house to himself again, how he can coax your sweet, bumbling self into his bed.