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#I’m scribbling a lot tonight yes
timethehobo · 5 months
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Constant companions.
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angel-of-the-moons · 11 months
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Need Steven with a freak. Let’s say he’s been dating this girl for a while and he’s ready to take it to the next step. He’s super worried he’ll make you all uncomfortable and stuff when he asks but the next thing he know he’s being ridden till the break of dawn
(I’m ovulating I am so sorry-)
OMG SAMESIES AND I. AM. ✨FERAL✨ RN
Please
Steven Grant x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Smut, just smut af, protected sex (implant), oral sex (m!receiving) creampie, overstimulation
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: This lil dress here is what I had in mind for the outfit in the start. (I'm a sucker for sunflower patterns)
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🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒
It had to be tonight. He just couldn't take it anymore. None of them could.
But Steven was the worst about his urges. He felt awkward and worried it would chase you away, the first girlfriend he ever got to finally have; all the others didn't understand his... Problems.
Problems he later learned were triggered by Marc (and in some cases, Jake), but you? You took them in stride, like a duck to water.
The moment he first saw you, his breath had been sucked right out of him. Marc and Jake went dead silent, too.
It was a gloomy, dreary day; the rain coming down in heavy droplets, casting a grim light down on the London streets.
But there you were, walking around the museum, looking at exhibits and scribbling notes in your tiny notebook with oh, so many post-its sticking out, fattening the tiny book until it looked close to bursting.
You were the only ray of sunshine on that day, your yellow dress that hugged your body just right, little sunflowers covering the fabric. Your hair done just the right way to accentuate your face as your eyes studied each artifact and bauble you saw.
To say the boys were instantly smitten was an understatement.
It took weeks of bumping into you to work up the courage to talk to you, and it was only when you came in to buy a rather dinky looking scarab plushie in the gift shop. It's this conversation where he finds out you're in school, trying to become an archaeologist and historian.
Steven's dream girl, and he had hearts in his eyes at every word you spoke.
He couldn't help but blubber out a request for a date, and you agreed.
The rest... History in the making.
You'd been dating for two months, but already he could feel the pull of urges he didn't necessarily indulge in often.
Sure, he, Marc and Jake could indulge in it themselves, trying to take the edge off. But sometimes it felt like the more he indulged in it, the more intense his fantasies got.
He simply couldn't keep tugging his cock for momentary relief anymore, imagining it was your soft hand, your mouth, your tits or something else wrapped around his cock that had him practically drooling: your sweet cunt.
But tonight? Tonight was the night. He was afraid to bring it up because he didn't want you to feel like he was moving too fast; and he could barely function when you admitted you were a little surprised he waited so long. (And teased him a little for how sometimes he just wasn't stealthy when trying to conceal a surprise boner.)
You'd told him that you thought about him too, and that you were more than willing to let him indulge.
But it was from there that you found out that Steven had never actually been intimate with anyone. Jake and Marc had, yes. But poor Steven has just never had the luck.
And that's how Steven found himself in this precarious situation, you on your knees, your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock as you bobbed your head so sweetly, tongue laving around his length, hollowing and sucking your cheeks with every drag, tracing the vein that ran up the side of him.
He couldn't stop with the babbling praises, the sweet petting in your hair.
Honestly, if you knew he was this weak? You'd have jumped his bones a lot sooner. Probably after the fourth or fifth date. It was rare you found someone who was intellectually a joy to talk to (not excluding Marc and Jake) who was so handsome and sweet to you.
One hand was thrust down into your panties, playing with yourself, dress hiked up so you could have better access as you continue sucking him off, the lewd sounds coming from both of you more suited to a pornography than the quiet air of his flat.
You could feel your orgasm cresting already, but you knew that you didn't want to just cum on your fingers like you had so many times before, you wanted to feel Steven inside of you and god did you want to drain him for everything he had.
Steven made a whine, babbling your name again.
"L-luv, I'm--I'm gonna--ugh--"
He couldn't even get the sentence out before you felt him spill down your throat, his hips bucking suddenly you gagged, carefully adjusting so you didn't choke as he pumped his load into your greedy mouth.
Well... you weren't surprised he didn't last very long...
He immediately started rattling off apologies that had you giggling.
God damn, you were going to enjoy draining him. Maybe Marc and Jake, too.
The blush that spread up to his ears made him look absolutely adorable.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" He stammered out, covering his face. "In--in your mouth, I--"
With the fluid grace of a cat you climb into his lap, straddling him.
You cup his cheeks and kiss him softly, before pulling away.
"You're alright." You assure him, peppering his adorable face with kisses.
It's when he squeezes your thighs and ruts up into you, his face buried in your neck that you realize he's still hard.
You bite your lip and kiss his ear.
"Steven, do you want me to ride you?"
"Ohgodsyesplease." He breathes out on a whimper.
You hastily line his cock up with your hole and sink down, taking him in inch by delicious inch until you're stretched beautifully around him.
You tip your head back with a groan. He certainly had girth for days, that was for sure.
"I'm... Already close. Can you help me?" You say, giving him a sweet pout that makes his heart jump up into his throat.
"Y-yes, I can--"
The way he keeps cutting himself off makes you want to cuddle him and cover him with kisses, but at the same time fuck him until his legs go numb.
Maybe you'd do the former later.
You pull his fingers into your mouth and he makes a soft moan when you suck his fingers, swirling your tongue around his calloused digits until you deemed them wet enough.
Then, you guide his hand down your body to your throbbing clit, and show him the rhythm that'd work for you best.
"Try to keep it in time with me, m'kay?" You groan, grinding down on him in one slow, languid movement.
His eyes roll back, but he nods and keeps his fingers over your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in time with each downward stroke of your hips.
Every bit of him had you aching, from his electric touches to his fat cock spearing you open and fucking your weeping pussy in the best way possible, you kicked yourself mentally again for not bringing up sex sooner.
Steven's cock felt far better inside of you than your fingers or your toys at home. He felt hot, he felt real. And real is what you'd been lacking lately.
Whatever Steven would give you, you planned on taking happily. You would--
Your eyes flutter open when Steven suddenly arches his back and hits you deeper than you expected him to; opening your mouth in a quiet cry, no sound escapes as your orgasm hits you and Steven continues swiping at your clit, fucking you from below as you shudder and collapse on top of him as he continues breathing on the hot embers of your orgasm to keep it going for as long as possible.
"Please." He whines in your ear.
"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease."
"In-inside--" You whimper, biting down on his shoulder, earning a toe-curling moan from him.
"You can do it inside."
He grits his teeth and let's out a hissing cry, veins popping in his neck and forehead as he fucks his spend up into you, his orgasm burning and flaying his nerves raw as he pumps you full.
He drops back onto the cushions of the couch and sofa, breathing hard, desperately trying to drag oxygen back into his lungs.
Reality however, is a cruel mistress and he looks down at where you two were connected.
"Oh, b-bloody hell. I--I didn't--"
"Relax, hon." You giggle, leaning back with one hand braced on one of his knees for support, your other hand trailing lazily down to where his cock still split you open, his cum leaking out around his length. The sight of you sent a dizzying spiral through him.
"I'm safe, promise. I have an implant. Still good for another three years."
The thought that he could keep doing this for three years--
His mind went blank when you grind down on his lap, feeling his cock stir to life despite the fact he was now exhausted.
"L-luv, I... I don't think I can..." He panted desperately.
Your brace your hands on his chest and start bouncing on his lap, grinning wickedly the whole time.
"I'm gonna keep going until I drain you dry, sweetheart. Get comfortable."
The gulp he made was audible in the space you shared, as was the sinful slap of skin on skin.
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sebsbarnes · 8 months
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Hi there!
I first of all wanted to start off by saying that I’m absolutely obsessed with your work- it’s amazing!!
Secondly, I was wondering if I could make a request?
Can I request a tangerine x reader where they’re out at a bar or something and there’s this guy being really pervy and creepy and just won’t leave her alone?
Obviously the reader can handle herself but they just got back from a long and tiring mission, and she quite honestly doesn’t have the energy.
So of course tan comes to the rescue 🤭🤭
I hope this is okay, and if not please feel free to ignore this!!
Have a wonderful day love and don’t forget to drink lots of water <33
heey!! i really appreciate the kind words, it keeps me going! i hope you've had a good day/night and if not tm will be better! and i hope u enjoy this!
bar fight || tangerine
tangerine x f!reader
warnings: harassment, fighting
word count: 1.6k+
masterlist
a/n: im drawing inspo from something that happened to me one time at a bar which will be the reason tan steps in here but of course tangerine was not there to save me although that would've been lovely
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"just one pint! two, two! i swear and then we all can leave," lemon pleaded, "we can leave the second i finish it. i'll even take the last sip on the way out the door," he tried enticing you, rubbing his shoulder up and down against yours.
"i reek, lemon. and tangerine looks like he nose dived into green and purple paint," you grimaced slightly at the bruises forming on tan's face.
lemon grabbed your wrist dragging you closer to the bar doors, "is it even a real bar if at least ten people don't smell awful and your shoes don't stick to the floor?"
the color of your eyes disappeared into the back of your head, "let's go."
lemon did a little victory dance before swinging the door open which tangerine held for you to walk in. the fatigue was riddled on both of your faces. the three of you had just gotten back into town after a long and very successful mission. you were all for celebrating but tonight you'd rather celebrate with a burning hot shower.
"you 'right by yourself? i'm going to head to the balcony for a few," tangerine asked, waving his pack of cigarettes in the air.
"yeah go for it, i'll manage," you replied. tangerine gave you a small nod before turning his back and sliding outside.
the inside of the bar was packed and you were shuffling around with your shoulders pulled in to try and avoid hitting people. it was loud, smelly, and yes, the floors were grossly sticky. it only annoyed you more, but, you tried having a positive attitude about it. 'two drinks' is all you kept telling yourself. after what felt like years you made it to the bar. you were sandwiched against a girl with blonde hair and a guy who weaseled his way in between you and an older gentleman. you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your head and the last thing you wanted to do was look over, but, it was becoming too much.
"hi!" he nearly yelled as you glanced over quickly.
"hey," you said curtly, bringing your lips into a straight line.
"i'm craig. what's your name?" he asked leaning in closer to you. you gave him your name, refusing to look back at him as you felt his eyes examine you. the drink you ordered appeared in front of you and you scribbled your name on the receipt.
"what's that you're drinking?" craig asked but you pretended not to hear him as you slinked into the crowd, hoping to lose him.
it worked for a while, you found some space near a wall to stand. there was a group of girls next to you singing loudly and dancing around. you couldn't lie and say it wasn't infectious as one of the drunk girls grabbed your hand and started dancing with you, which of course you joined in. it was fun and it kept your mind off how tired your body was.
"thought i lost you there!" you flinched away, startled, by craig's nervous laughter beside you. you looked down at the man who stood inches below you and gave him an award-winning fake smile.
"you're very pretty," he said puffing his chest out slightly.
"thanks."
"you don't talk much, eh? is it because you're nervous around me?" craig asked his eyes looking down at your legs.
"just tired!" you exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, gulping down the tequila in your cup.
"you seem a bit lonely, are you by yourself tonight?" he persisted, inching closer to you with each word despite you stepping to the side each time.
"nope!" you retorted, popping the 'p' and turning to find the bathroom.
you stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes and finished your drink. the eyebags seemed to protrude out of your face as you examined them in the mirror. now, lemon had to almost be done with his drinks. that man can pound drinks back. so, with high hopes you left the bathroom to go find a seat at the bar and wait until lemon found or texted you or hopefully tangerine was done smoking.
there was a vacant stool in the dead center which you jumped on. your elbow rested against the bar, head in hand, absentmindedly watching the tv in the corner. it was a boxing match that you had zero interest in but it provided enough entertainment. you shut your eyes tight as you felt the familiar, unwelcomed, presence over your shoulder.
"look, i think you are really pretty. hotter than anyone else here and look at me. any girl would want me and the fact you're trying to play hard to get is starting to really piss me off," craig ranted but you refused to turn your head and pretended like the noise of the bar drowned his voice out.
"you're right, i'm sorry. that was rude of me, i apologize. i just noticed you the moment you walked into the bar and i needed to talk to you. you're really beautiful and i know i'd treat you right. whoever you're dating must not be treating you right because i can feel that you want me."
tangerine blew out one last cloud of smoke and tossed his cigarette into the ashtray. it was far more peaceful outside but he knew he had to go in and find lemon, who he knew was more than two drinks in and probably friends with ten more people. tangerine opened the door back into the bar and scanned the room. that's when he saw a man with his hand on your throat.
you ignored craig's presence until you no longer could. he was silent for a few moments after his rant. suddenly, you saw a hand snake into your field of vision and you felt his hand pressing firmly against your throat. you were shocked for a moment before realizing what was going on. craig's thumb and middle finger were applying harsh pressure to your throat making it hard to breathe. then, you felt the pressure shift in his hand from choking to pushing. craig pulled you to the ground by your throat, your body flying backward off the stool and slamming into the floor.
you saw a figure jump over your body and loud commotion next to you but you were too disorientated at the moment from the wind being knocked out of you. one of the bartenders leaped over the bar and pulled you up and shielded you from the commotion. that's when you realized it was tangerine who had hopped over and started beating craig to the floor. it was like a scene straight out of the boxing match you were just watching. tangerine towered over craig in height and build and the anger in his face was terrifying.
tangerine was throwing the smaller man across the bar with punches. he'd punch craig in the face to which he stumbled and then tangerine would trip him. his body would fall to the ground and tangerine would pick him up by the shirt before launching him into the now vacant stools.
"please!" craig pleaded, blood running from his eyebrow. tangerine grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the bar.
"you like hurting women? huh?" he screamed, "you think you're so tough, look at you now! fuckin' pathetic piece of shit. what? it's not fun being picked on and harassed?"
tangerine was raging. his face and chest were red with anger and the vein in his forehead pulsated. he had wild eyes similar to when he was on a mission. you watched as he slipped his hand into his pants pocket, slipping on his brass knuckles. before he was able to crush the bastard's nose lemon swooped in from behind and grabbed tangerine's bicep. the bouncers from outside grabbed craig by the neck of his shirt and kicked his bloody body out of the bar. lemon's hands were on tangerine's shoulders trying to calm his brother down. finally, tangerine's chest rose and fell at a normal pace and he turned his head and noticed you. lemon released his shoulders letting him walk to you.
tangerine cupped your face and craned his neck down a bit, "are you alright love?"
you laughed slightly uncomfortable that a big scene was made because of you, "yeah... just shocked really."
"did he hurt you in any other way?" he asked with softness.
"no. no... i didn't think it would turn into that. he had been bothering me the whole time i should've been more forceful but i was just too tired to really care," you sighed.
"no," tangerine said sternly, now eye level with you, "none of this is your fault, okay? that prick should know better than to continue to harass someone who is clearly not accepting their advances. and the fact he fuckin' put his hands on you. fuck i'll..." tangerine gritted his teeth now standing upright and looking towards the door craig was kicked out of.
"tan! no. you getting arrested is not worth it. i'm okay, okay? he got what he deserved and i really don't want to be here any longer," you pleaded, grabbing onto his forearm to force him to look at you.
tangerine caressed your head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger. tangerine guided you outside and when the door shut he pulled you into a tight but gentle hug, mindful of your back.
"i'm so fuckin' sorry love. i should've stayed with you the whole night," he whispered into your hair.
you pulled back from the hug, "mmm no, hey, hey- that's not what we are going to do. you have nothing to be sorry for and i'm thankful for you and not just now when you beat dickheads up for me, but always."
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 8 months
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I feel like with valentines day coming up a cute little blurb request would be Garrick x reader for valentines day. Maybe mixed in with over protective Gar or mates dragons
Cupid
Even after almost two years of being together Garrick still found himself wondering why you stuck around to date him. You two were so polar opposite at times that there wasn’t a person who hadn’t frowned at the knowledge that Basgiath’s sunshine was dating an absolute thundercloud.
“When do you finish?”, you felt a warm palm sliding over your middle. A smile sped over your concentrated face in an instant. Tilting your head up you were met with your boyfriend’s sharp feathers. “In about an hour”, you muttered, wanting nothing more than to turn towards him and snuggle into his chest but as the rules outside your bedroom and friend group stated - that wasn’t an option.
Garrick pressed his lips against your temple, “That works for me”, he muttered. “Do we have plans for tonight? Cause I don’t remember us…”, you trailed off, a pang of guilt shooting through you. It wasn’t his birthday. Wasn’t your anniversary. What had you missed? “We do and no, we didn’t talk about this so you don’t need to worry your pretty little head over it”, Garrick muttered quietly.
You scrunched up your nose at him not feeling satisfied with his answer. “Don’t do that”, Garrick grumbled, “Do what?”, you crossed your arms over your chest not dropping eye contact. “Don’t act all cute”, his palm slowly raised your chest and over your neck, “Because I can’t kiss you like I mean it in front of everyone”. You snickered, “Looks like a you kind of problem, Gar”, you tapped his shoulder before turning your attention fully on the class.
Navigating fully on the guidance scribbled on the paper you made your way towards the creek. No one went there, even if the view was breathtaking. Xaden had rules around the place. That place was not to be messed with. That place was the only untarnished memory he had of his parents happy. So the fact that you were walking there had you frowning slightly. Sure, he was a friend, brother even to both you and Garrick but you doubted…
You stopped in your tracks. Not even oxygen got through your lungs. You blinked a couple of times trying to chase the dream away. It was a dream. Had to… “Close your mouth baby, or you’ll catch a fly”, Garrick's sweet voice found you. “What. Is. This”, you voice every word so sharply as if it was a chore in itself to speak.
“Come and see for yourself”, Garrick mused, waving you over. “I…”, you muttered, “Do you have a fever?”, your hand found Garrick’s forehead the moment you were close enough to touch him, “Or maybe you are not Garrick”. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes, “You’re making it sound as if I never do anything for you”, he wasn’t hurt by your comment of course. He knew that he wasn’t exactly a teddy bear. He didn’t do cute.
“You do yes… but…”, you looked around. Everything from the knitted blanket. The flowers. A basket filled with food. “This looks like Cupid puked all over it and you Garrick… You don’t do cupid”, you muttered, still slowly taking in the cute date that awaited you. Garrick nudged you closer to him, “Right, but I can do cupid for you even if it physically hurt me to lay down that pink monstrosity”, he huffed making you let out a giggle before you pulled a serious look, “I’m proud of you for enduring it”, you nodded at him.
“I can endure lots of shit for you, baby”, his rough hands, pushed loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “I know and that means the world to me”, you cupped his cheeks, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. Another thing you taught him through your relationship. An act of slow love. One that always waited there for him. One that he didn’t have to hold in a chokehold.
“Come sit down”, he motioned for you when you two finally pulled apart. Making a quick work of it Garrick had filled up your plate with food. Nearly arranging it all. A strange habit of his. You would never assume that the man was a neat freak but here you were. “Why are you looking at me like that?”, Garrick muttered after catching your gaze. “Thinking about how I would love to put you in that pink sweater Violet made Xaden wear”, you mussed. “Yeah, you can sure try but I doubt we would love the outcome of that”, Garrick grumbled, making you chuckle, “What would you do? Tie me to a bed?”, you shook your head, watching as Garrick raised one of his eyebrows. Catching on what was brewing in his head, “Didn’t even think about it, Tavis”, you warned him but the smirk on his face told you that he, as always, wasn’t in the mood to follow orders.
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cupids-scream-queen · 11 months
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A Little Murderess °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・❀*
❀ female!murderer!reader x poly!ghostface ❀
Part 4 // 1.7k words
-> Part 1 // -> Part 2 // -> Part 3
Warnings: stalking! Tame chapter, I know.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Summary: You've just moved to a new town after the death of your little brother and stepfather with your mother. You're not ashamed of what you do to cope with the deaths; especially when you make two new friends who you might have more in common with than you thought...
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Over the next two days, you got closer with the gang. You still couldn’t shake the feeling of Billy and Stu being somehow related to your strange phone calls, but until you had concrete proof, you weren’t going to say anything. Even if they were related to it, you wanted to make sure of it, and twist their minds around themselves just as they’ve done to you.
Out of the two of them, Stu was the one to get the closest to you. Despite his girlfriend being Right There, Stu would still make flirtatious comments towards you, and you’d try your best to deflect them as best you could. You didn’t want to risk Tatum or Sidney throwing you out of the group just because of a horny teenage boy named Stuart of all things.
Randy was also making comments, but you were more open to flirting back, even though you could see it visibly annoyed Stu and quite possibly even Billy. You didn’t care though, since they had girlfriends—it was their fault they weren’t single, after all. After a lot of pleading from the gang, you eventually traded phone numbers with them all—and you quickly found your time being invaded increasingly by Stu.
“Are you fond of Psycho for being bloody or for being a Hitchcock film?” He asked one night, and you had to suppress yourself from asking if the only thing that made a film ‘horror’ in his opinion was blood. Because you knew the answer was a yes.
“Hitchcock, if I’m being honest,” You answered, scribbling down your algebra homework. It didn’t have to be perfect, you reminded yourself. It just had to be good enough. “I don’t mind bloody films, but I just think most of the tropes are over-used.”
“Naw, they’re over-used in unique ways every time,” Stu asserted, and you laughed at him.
“They’re not! Every slasher has the same plot. Evil man in mask, gutted teenager, girl with tits, some other unrelated teenage girl that stops the evil man. Same thing, fifty-five gallons of fake blood per kill, unrealistic,” You ranted, and Stu giggled at your anger.
“And how many gallons of blood makes it realistic?” He questioned, and you could feel your face heat up. There was no way he’d know if you gave him the right answer.
“Technically one and a half gallons, since that’s all a human body can hold,” You said quietly. Stu was silent, before asking the million-dollar question.
“Why the fuck would a girl like you know a fact like that?”
“Why would you know that it’s a true statement, hmm?” You shot back playfully, before finally asking. “And how come you seem to know why I’d know that fact?”
“A lucky guess, pussycat,” He said quietly. You figured it was a clue. You had to defeat Ghostface, and Stu just moved up on the suspect list. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
“Right,” You slowly said, and moved a few papers around on your desk. “Well, I’ve got to do algebra work, so…”
“You want me to leave you alone?” Stu finished, and you smiled.
“Yes. Good-bye, Stuart Little,” You said, and you finished your homework. An hour later, the phone rang. This time, you knew it wasn’t Stu.
“Hello Mystery Man,” You greeted, and the voice on the phone was exactly who you’d thought it would be.
“Hello, you alone tonight or is your mother there?”
“If you were properly stalking me, you’d know she’s passed out on the living room couch,” You joked, and Ghostface laughed.
“Have you any guesses as to who I am?”
“I have guesses on what two people you might be,” You slyly walked by your windows, smirking. “But you know, I won’t share them with you until I’m solid on them.”
“Two people? You’re a really strange detective. What makes you think there’s two of us?”
“The fact that I can hear two people breathing right now,” You deadpanned, and you could hear shuffling on the other end of the phone. “And the fact that every time you call me, it’s like you forgot what we talked about last time.”
“You’re a lot sharper than you let on, Y/N,” Ghostface purred, and you smiled at the praise. “It’d be a shame if you don’t defeat me.”
“Defeat you how? Do I just guess who you are and if it’s right, BINGO, I live, or do I have to kill you?” You finally asked the question that’s been weighing down on you. If Ghostface was who you suspected it to be, you knew you couldn’t kill them—it would hurt the friend group too much.
“Guess it right, and you live. It’s an easy game. If you don’t guess it right, SLASH, you’re dead and gutted like a fucking pig,” Gutted. You smiled to yourself, realizing you just got another clue. “You have only a few more days left, you know. I’d start working on my theories a little more seriously than hanging out with Sidney or Tatum.”
“But not Billy or Stu, right?” You shot back, before hanging up the phone. Got ‘em.
•❃°•°❀°•°❃•
Billy and Stu looked at each other, right after you hung up.
“She knows, man,” Stu’s eyes were wide. “She knows.”
“She’s messing with us, there’s no way in hell she knows. She’s probably just saying random ass names to try and scare us,” Billy rationalized, but a tiny part of him was worried. Did you find out? It wasn’t like he talked to you much at all, but then he had a lightbulb moment. “Do you call her outside of trying to scare her?”
“A bit, yeah,” Stu admitted. “Just to try and find out more about her, y’know? She’s not gonna give every piece of information about herself to a psychopath on the phone threatening to kill her.”
“You’re a fucking moron, Stu,” Billy pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s figured out the speech patterns.”
“There’s no way, the voice changer—”
“Only changes voices, not speech patterns!” Billy shouted, and Stu tried to make himself look smaller. “You can’t just talk to her like you normally would, asswipe! She figured it out because of slang!”
“No way she’s that observant,” Stu tried, but Billy cut him off. “She is, you dickrag! She’s a fucking murderer, she’s hella observant!” Billy was shaking with rage, and Stu put an arm around him, but Billy shook it off. “Don’t fucking touch me, not until we figure out how to deal with her. If she gets it right, what are we gonna do? We were banking on her not knowing.”
“I don’t think she’s going to care, Billy,” Stu pointed out, and he was right. You wouldn’t care, not really. You’d be amused at their attempt on you, sure, but you wouldn’t report them. You had too many of your own crimes to care about the crimes of two self-diagnosed psychopathic teenagers with a phone line. “If anything, she’d join in.”
“And three is the magic number?” Billy snorted. “This isn’t schoolhouse rock. Two, Stu, two! That’s all we need, and that’s all there ever will be. Two! We can’t have three Ghostfaces running around, slashing people left and right. Three is how people get caught. Three is how people start talking. Three is when people get left behind.”
“Are you two always in my bushes?” They looked up, to find you standing in front of their hiding spot. “I found out a while ago, dumbasses.”
“I told you she wouldn’t care,” Stu murmured, and you looked at him pointedly.
“I never said I didn’t care, but you’re not wrong. It’s a bit pathetic finding you two in my bushes in front of my house, that’s all,” You played with your familiar bowie knife. “Now, what am I going to do to defeat the magical and mystical Ghostface?”
“Not kill us?” Stu tried, and Billy hit him upside the head.
“No, not kill you,” You agreed, and you pointed the blade at Billy. “Tell me your plans. All of them. I’m going to join you two. You are smart, I’ll give you that. But not smart enough to properly kill without getting caught.”
“Hey, for your information, we killed—”
“Casey? I know. And her boyfriend, I can’t remember his name right now,” You twiddled with the blade. “And Sidney’s mother, right?”
“How—”
“I’m good with my head,” You smiled sweetly, and the two boys looked at you, awestruck. “No complaints with it yet.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Billy asked, and you nodded.
“I’m serious. Why, watching me kill wasn’t a good enough show for you? I knew someone was watching me, I’m not stupid. Your lack of faith is disturbing,” You grinned as the boys shuddered, and you knew you were hitting their confidence, hard.
“Fine. Fine! Come to Stu’s at midnight tomorrow night, we’ll explain,” Billy finally cracked, and you grinned.
“I’m not stupid. If you try to kill me—”
“You’ll kill us,” They answered simultaneously. “We heard you the first time.”
“Good! Well, goodnight boys! And I’d wash your jeans, that’s where my neighbor’s dog pisses,” You blew them a kiss, and skipped your way back into your house, where they could see you in the window of your bedroom. You flipped them off again, before closing your curtains with the familiar claw clip.
“What should we do?” Stu asked, and Billy looked at him.
“Use her as an asset, what else would we do?”
•❃°•°❀°•°❃•
You were proud of yourself, that was for sure. Though you didn’t entirely trust the two, you were fairly confident that they wouldn’t kill you. You knew too much, and you knew that they’d try to use you for whatever skills you had. It didn’t offend you as much as it annoyed you that you’re getting involved with crimes more elaborate than your own. You weren’t sure if it was wise of you, but you knew you wanted to get involved. To see what, exactly, the two idiots were planning. And how you could be of assistance.
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abilouwrites · 2 months
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THE BEFORE, AND THE AFTER
SERIES MASTERLIST
2
I clock in again the next day, the same routine. A familiar face in Dynamight; Bakugo Katsuki’s room. A woman who I assume is his mother fretting over her son. Bringing him water, and knitting as he sleeps.
“Are you one of Katsukis nurses?” She asks as I walk into his room, hair clipped up as I check the IV and his BP.
“Yes” I respond, “has he had any complaints about pain? Headaches?” I ask her. She scoffs and shakes her head.
“No, not that he’s told me. He’s stoic like that; doesn’t let anyone know he’s in pain. It can be very annoying” she smiles a little, greying hair loosened around her shoulders. She leans back in her chair and sighs
“They make the worst patients, the cast is off and I think some physical therapy will help with function in that wrist. Do you want that contact?” I ask and she nods, “I’ll put it in his chart”
“Thank you” she squints her eyes to see my name, “Y/l/n, that’s a beautiful name.. your husbands?” She asks
“No” I say weakly, “I’m single” I hear her tsk and shake her head.
“That’s such a bummer, you’re so beautiful” she murmurs, “ah, I’m so sorry.. I must be wasting your time.. I’m sure you have other patients to see”
I shake my head, “it’s all good, I’m hoping by tonight he should be able to go home. Do you know if he has someone who can take care of him?”
She shakes her head, “no, I’ll have him stay with me and my husband. Will that work?”
I nod, “just for a week. The neurologist is still nervous about that concussion but he should be fine to be at home on bed rest”
She nods and thanks me as I walk back to the nurses station. Which is typically how my days go, I sit and finish charts online.
Bakugos mother leaves that afternoon to go home and shower, “how are you feeling?” I ask stepping into his room once again.
“Like I got hit by a bus and you won’t let me leave” he groans, shifting from the bed to stand. Leaning on his portable IV drop, “what? Am I not supposed to be walking?”
“I guess. Only if you don’t mind me walking next to you. I’m required to do so” I explain as he slowly walks out of his room.
He rolls his eyes, “I don’t get why I feel like this.. only my arm was hurt right?”
I shrug, “you were hit very bluntly in the chest— and you have been bed ridden for a day so it’s all very expected” I watch him nod and slow his pace.
“Y’know my mom asked about you” He speaks softly, a little wheezy and with a soreness to his step, “she’s nosy like that”
“I’ve heard” I raise my eyebrows, “let’s turn back now”
“No I can keep walking”
“We’re turning back”
He huffs and pouts a little before following me back to his room, I help him sit back down and he has this shut eye look about his face, “do you want some more painkillers?” I ask, “we’re trying to ween you off but if you’re in a lot of discomfort.”
He shakes his head, “no. I’m fine. How much longer until I can be back on the streets?” He asks.
“I dunno, you’d have to ask your doctors. I’m just a nurse” I tell him once again, “but you should be going home tonight”
“Y’know, I’ll miss our talks” He teases, a running gag that I do my charts with him when his mother is home. Someone to keep me company.
“Yeah, sure you will” I roll my eyes as I sit down and flick open a chart and begin scribbling some notes down.
“Why didn’t you become a doctor?” He asks, sitting up and looking at me, “you’re very smart”
I shake my head, “mom pushed me into it, said it’d be easier to keep working when I uh eventually get married.. if that ever happens”
I hear Bakugo laugh, “you’re twenty sixish? You have years until you need to get there”
I smile at him, “yeah yeah, tell it to her.” I shake my head a little and look out the window and see no-one. Which is fairly usual as the halls up here are empty. We keep the nurses few as to prevent leakage and paparazzis.
“I’ll miss this, but I am so ready to not eat hospital food” he jokes. There’s a seriousness to his face and he shifts a little, “hey mom” Mitsuki walks in and smiles.
“Y/n!” I’m quick to stand and tuck my chart into my armpit before wrapping her in a tight hug, “I’m here to bring Katsuki home” she smiles. In the two days I haven’t seen her she’s cut her hair. It falls just at her neck and she looks a little more rested.
“Yes, he’s told me”
“You were an absolute doll and a wonderful nurse, when he gets hurt again I’ll be hoping you’re on his case”
“Thank you Mrs. Bakugo, but I hope I won’t see him for a long time”
I wave goodbye to her and Bakugo as she slowly wheels him into the elevator, and maybe I’ll miss him. Maybe just the slightest bit.
And so I drive home in my crappy little car to my apparent. Which is how my nights usually go, some left over pasta and chicken that Suki made while her boyfriend was staying with us. It’s good and just enough to push me through to shower and detangle my hair.
Suki comes in my room as I slip into my sleep shorts and begin braiding my hair, “hey cutie” she smiles as she jumps onto my bed and lays down. She’s only twenty and has picked up the little sister act perfectly. She sniffles a little and stares at me, “how was saying goodbye to your boyfriend?” She teases a little— although not knowing who the person is I’ve told her about the guy I’ve been keeping company throughout his stay.
“It was fine? He’s not my boyfriend you know” I correct as I tie off the braid and lay down next to her, “and I ate your leftovers”
“You suck” she groans. She rolls over and stares at me, “are you going to bed?”
“Yeah, don’t you work early tomorrow?” I ask and she nods, getting up. But not before stealing my moisturizer and blowing me a kiss goodnight.
“Goodnight Suki”
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onstrangerthighs · 1 year
Text
The Ugly Truth
Despite wishing her mother good night thirty minutes ago, Nancy’s eyes refuse to shut. Whenever she starts to drift off, she sees Barb crawling out from underground to blame her for what happened that night. Nancy would argue her case, but there’s no defense. She failed her friend. Barb hadn’t even wanted to go along in the first place! 
I’m going insane just lying here. Maybe some warm milk will calm me down.
She passes the bathroom on the way to the stairs. Mom’s not in the tub? I didn’t hear the water go off. Huh. 
The front door is open, and there’s the boy from Tina’s party who came speeding into Hawkins High School’s parking lot with his car radio on full blast. The boy Steve keeps staring at like a stunned fish. She’s shit with remembering names. Ben… something? 
Curiosity gets the better of her. She stays very still on the second step, ears and eyes peeled. 
Mom answered the door in her bathrobe? Nancy shifts her attention to Ben- no Billy, his name’s Billy. He seems… tense. Fidgety. 
“I’m Nancy’s mother.” 
“No.” 
For some reason, Billy saying that in a clearly sarcastic tone makes her mother twirl her hair and giggle, “Yes” like a schoolgirl with a crush. 
You’ve never acted this way with Dad. 
“Mrs. Wheeler.” 
“Um, I’m sorry, and you are?”
“Billy. Billy Hargrove.” He extends a hand for her to shake, and when she does, he puts his other hand over hers.
What the fuck is happening? Why aren’t you pulling away? 
“You must be here for Nancy.” 
“Nancy? No, no, no.”
One no would’ve done the trick. 
“Not my type.” 
Nancy snorts into her hand. 
“Uh… No, actually I am looking for my little sister Max. Goes by Maxine. She’s been missing all day, and, uh, to be honest with you, I’ve been worried sick, you know, so…”
“Oh.” 
You sound almost… disappointed. Why would you be, unless… No. Surely not. 
“I thought she was at Lucas’, but Mrs. Sinclair said your house is the…the designated hangout, so, you know… Here I am.” 
This has got to be the worst pretend pickup line I’ve ever heard. He’s got no interest in you, Mom. You know that, don’t you? 
Billy comes in, and if he notices Nancy lurking at the top of the stairs as he goes into the kitchen, he doesn’t say anything. 
“Their driveway is pretty dark this time of night,” Mom says, scribbling down an address for him. “So drive slowly.”
“Always.” He pockets the address and takes an extra bitter oatmeal cookie for the road. 
Under the kitchen light, her mother dies, and all she sees is Karen Wheeler biting her bottom lip as she watches him walk away, her eyes glued to his ass. 
Nancy doesn’t remember when her gun appeared in her hands, but her brain is surprisingly clear when she pulls the trigger. A bullet goes right between Karen’s eyes. 
Killing people is surprisingly easy when you see who they really are. 
Billy lies flat on the floor, hands cupped over his ears. 
“I’m not going to shoot you.” 
“You killed… your mother. God, Hicktown is fuckin’ crazy!” 
Boy, he really catches on quick. 
“You don’t know the half of it.” Nancy steps over Karen’s body and dials the number of Hopper’s secretary. She’s more likely to pick up than the Chief himself. “Hi, this is Nancy Wheeler. I need to talk to Chief Hopper. It’s important.”
She hears a grunt, and prepares the crocodile tears. Billy stares at her with a mix of awe and horror as her lower lip begins to tremble. “My mother st-started acting really strange. She turned the air conditioner down because she “liked it cold”. She-she loved the house being warm. Her voice came out all-all deep and empty. I looked into her eyes, and I knew my mother wasn’t…” she takes a shaky breath for added effect, then continues, “I knew she was gone. So I… I shot her. I don’t want to go to jail! I’m so scared, Chief.” 
“You did the right thing, calling me. I’ll stop by your house and take care of things, okay? Do you have anywhere else to go tonight?”
“I’m not sure. I-”
 Billy’s not on the floor anymore. His headlights are on. Crap.
I need to make sure he knows not to say anything. 
Nancy gets into the passenger seat and he sends her a dirty look. 
“You should really start locking your doors. It’s a safety precaution.”
“... I will keep that in mind. Now get out of my car.” 
“You said you were looking for your sister, right?”
“She’s not my sister.”
“But you said-” “I know what I said. Look, I’d prefer to forget everything said and done in your freakshow house, Wheeler.”
“Nancy.” 
“Fine. Nancy.” 
“I know where Max is.” 
“I’m not giving you shit in exchange for that information.” 
“Well I should hope not.” Has this sort of thing happened to him before?
“I know how to keep a secret. I just… why did you do it?” 
“We were always arguing. She never heard me. What pushed me over the edge was how she was with you. It made me want to puke. She should’ve stuck to her own age group.” 
Billy goes eerily quiet, hands gripping his steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. His shoulders slacken, and he unclenches his jaw to offer her a weary, appreciative smile. 
“Max is at the Byers’ house. Mike’s there, too. I can’t take him back to that house. He didn’t know… I don’t suppose you have room where you live?” Billy tenses up again. 
She takes that as a no.”
“I’ll be your guide to the Byers’. I’m sure Mrs. Byers wouldn’t mind us staying over.” 
He gives her a terse nod.
“Us includes you, Bonnie.”
Billy blinks several times, temporarily breaking out of his grim state. “Bonnie? Hold on, why the fuck am I not Clyde? Clyde’s a man.”
Nancy lets out a long sigh. “Do you actually care about that crap?”
“... No. I don’t,” he admits. “Bonnie has better hair anyway, so it fits.” 
“You think you’re funny, huh.” 
“I think I’m a fucking riot.” 
“Humor is subjective.”
“It was your joke!” 
****** “Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” 
Okay, now I wish I’d shot myself instead. 
“Nancy???” Steve exclaims, dragging his eyes away from Billy’s chest. 
So that’s why Billy took his jacket off. 
She snickers, shaking her head. Steve Alexander Harrington, you haven’t changed one bit. 
Billy seems to be glowing from Steve’s attention. Dorks. 
“What’re you doing here, amigo?”
“Yeah, I could ask you the same thing, amigo.” 
Oh, Steve, you’re not fooling anyone. 
“Looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”
Nancy awkwardly waves. I doubt they’re even aware I exist. 
“Huh. That’s weird. I don’t know her.”
“Small, redhead, bit of a bitch?”
“I heard that!” a girl yells from inside the house. 
“I wanted you to!” 
“You guys are going to wake up the whole neighborhood!” Nancy yells.
“I think we’re a little quieter than a gu- guy who’s bangin’ his wife.” 
“Are you two… friends or something?” Steve says, squinting like he’s come face to face with an impossible math problem. 
“Amigos in crime.” 
“You didn’t tell him any embarrassing stories about me, did you? Nance?” 
“Stories? What stories?” 
“It’s a school night. We should all head inside and get some rest.”
“Nance!” 
“Shut up, Steve.”
“Yeah, shut up, Pretty Boy.” 
“Keep the flirting to a minimum, there are children present.”
Steve’s jaw drops. “WHAT? FLIRTING?”
Billy cackles, slapping his knee, his face matching the color of his shirt. 
New hobby unlocked. 
*****
“Does Mrs. Byers have any grub around here? I’m gonna check the fridge.”
“Billy, I wouldn’t do that if I were you-"
“WHAT THE FUCK-”
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Room 217
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Steve and his girlfriend just having a lovely moment in a hotel. Lots of banter, lots of teasing, every old woman wants Steve to propose, like yesterday, and John Mellencamp. CWs: No y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns and there are no descriptions besides wet hair. Old ladies being weird, mentions of skiing and they have a dog. Some references to the shining as well, also I've never been to colorado so if i get the 2 things I said about it wrong you have my endless apologies. If I missed anything, let me know and I'll add it here, also if you're any kind if enby and you would rather this with any other pronouns, as a fellow gender blender demifemme feels right atm, I'm more than happy to oblige and repost with whatever you'd prefer.
March, 1992
Steve thought he’d pay a visit to the nice ladies in the mailroom that afternoon after work, he’d been having a pretty good day so far, why not share the joy? “Hello, ladies. How’s today been treatin’ you two?” he asked them over the counter.
“Not too busy, thank you for asking. Always so charming isn’t he?” Mrs. Smith asked Mrs. Lowe, both their white hairs deflating by now from the curled, permed coifs they shaped and gelled and sprayed every morning. 
“Oh yes, oh, and Steve, we saw your girl this morning. Looking lovely as ever.”
“Mhm, we saw her, but no ring.” Mrs. Smith reminded him again, twisting her own 2 carat diamond around her finger. Just 2 weeks ago she told him the whole story about it, how Mr. Smith scrimped and saved for ages to afford it, including selling his favorite tractor, to which they both side eyed his BMW through the window. 
“Oh, Deirdre, didn’t you see her with a ring catalog this morning?” Mrs. Lowe asked her, both of them poorly hiding their schemes. 
“I do think I did. I’d take notice of these things if I were you, Steve. How long have you been together again?”
“I’ve known her for 9 years, we’ve been together for 5, Mrs. Smith.” He wasn’t hurt by them asking again, in fact he expected it, as much as his tone expressed it. “And yes, I do notice, which is why I’ve been coming home so late these last few days, I need a bit more than 30 hours a week to afford this place and a ring.”
He saw the sneaky smiles on their faces as they wheeled around in their office chairs to get his mail. A few deliveries and a blush colored envelope with a floral postage stamp in the corner, a wax seal on the front. “Ooh, a wedding invitation?” Mrs. Lowe teased.
Steve nodded as he read the return address, “Looks like it’s from her cousin.” He checked his wrist watch and realized his girlfriend must have been expecting him, “I better be going, don’t want to be late for dinner.”
“Oh, you two going out?”
“No, staying in tonight, making risotto.”
Mrs. Smith gasped, “My recipe?”
“I think so.”
“Oh you watch out for that one, Steve, I used that recipe once and 9 months later I had Joey and Hannah,” Mrs. Lowe added.
Steve huffed a laugh. “You are bad.”
“Watch it Harrington.” “It’s very easy for mail to get lost down here.” “Packages stolen,” they joked back before waving him upstairs and calling for him to send their hellos to his girl. 
“Hey, gorgeous, where you at?” He finally got to the fifth floor and held the door open with his foot while he took the keys out of the knob. “We got a fuck ton of mail.”
But he didn’t see any sign of her or their dog, Leo, a big black lab, anywhere. “Babe?” He walked further into the kitchen of their cramped apartment. Leo’s leash was gone too, but there was a scratchy note left on the counter, probably left in a rush accounting for the scribbly handwriting. 
Hello my love, I hope you had a wonderful day. I was going to wait for you but Leo got antsy so I’m taking him for a walk. We’ll be back by 6:30 I promise —xoxo 
It was already 6:25, and by the time he was worried enough to grab his sweatshirt and go out to look for her, there was already an incessant scratching at the door and a giggle of ‘I’m trying, I’m trying. Relax buddy, I gotta get my keys.’ 
It clearly sounded like a struggle, Steve assumed her keys must have been deeper in her pocket than she remembered. He could have waited and let her unlock the door herself, but the excitement to see her was too much to bear. Also because he didn’t want any complaints from the landlord about scratched paint on the door. 
He heard her surprised little gasp when the handle turned from the other side, ‘Is Stevie home?’ He heard Leo make some sound like E.T. would have made in response, as well as the slamming of his tail on her leg.
“It’s 6:30.”
“What? No ‘hello’? No ‘how are you my beautiful, gorgeous, angel of a darling? Every hour in your absence has been agony.’ And here I was, thinking you were such a romantic.” She hung the leash up while Leo was shoving himself against Steve’s leg to get more attention and pets. She was about to walk out of the teeny tiny foyer after taking her shoes off but Steve caught her by the arm before she got the chance. Leo got out of the way while he pulled her shoulder into his chest, both hands on the other one furthest from him. 
“Hello,” and she expected his usual schtick of saying everything she said back to her, a little teasing but she could always hear the truth underneath. “My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.”
“Steve,” she groaned and pushed him off of her and into the coats, “You’re supposed to love me, not kill me. I don’t even have six fingers on my right hand.” She got louder as she walked further away, “And besides, you’re much more of a Westley anyway.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
“How so? Wait, farm boy Westley or Pirate Westley?”
“Oh, Pirate Westley, definitely.”
He silently shooed her out of the kitchen and fed Leo before washing his hands and starting on their own dinner while she explained.
“I don’t know, you just love too much to be an Inigo, too smart to be him, also you know I love you but you have like zero loyalty to your father and you shouldn’t anyway, so definitely a Westley.”
“Like I’d carry you through the fire swamp and everything?”
“And everything.” Leo laid at her feet while she went through the mail on the couch, sinking deep into the cushions that were probably older than her since it was a hand-me-down from Hopper when he moved in with Joyce at the same time they moved into their apartment. A sparkling seal caught her eye. “A wedding invitation?”
“I was waiting for you to open it, I think it’s from your cousin.”
“Hm. Mr. Joseph and Mrs. Deanna Sampson cordially invite you to a renewal of their vows, the 12th of December, 1992, Colorado Springs, Colorado. It’s at a hotel, like the Shining.”
“Oh that cousin?” The renewal of vows is what caught his attention. “Must be a small venue then.”
“Not funny, Steven,” she didn’t take her eyes off her lap where she flipped through the details of the invitation but the slight quirk of her lip that Steve was always able to clock betrayed her amusement. A wedding with ample opportunity for skiing, her cousin’s husband, and now by extension her cousin, are kind of rich, at least his family is, so they're renting the biggest, nicest, fanciest lodge for the day and having the wedding and reception there. “I’d totally have a small wedding first with just the people I want there then a bigger one for all the people that are mad they didn’t make the cut.”
“Who’d be at this wedding? The small one.”
“Dustin, Eddie, Robin, the kids, Joyce and Hopper, and maybe my parents, I haven't decided.”
He knew he was pushing his luck asking this, but the ladies of the mail room planted a strong idea in his head and he just couldn’t let it go. “I’m not there?” but he stayed facing the near boiling pot.
“I thought you were a given,” She said so casually. Only looking at him when the clatter of the spoon falling on the floor pulled her attention his way. They’d discussed it before, in passing mostly. Saying a marriage and a family is something they both want, but he’d never heard her say it like that. Like marrying him is the only option she’d ever choose. Like he’s always going to be the obvious choice. “So we’re going?”
“Hm?”
“To the wedding?”
“Oh, yeah, of course. Deanna’s the best.”
December, 1992
They arrived two days before the wedding, Steve wanted to get more use out of his skis. She liked them because the bottoms were bright pink and she could find him anywhere. Checking in was a bear though. The mailroom part 2 for him since y/n was at a payphone to check in with Dustin about Leo.
“How can I help you, sir?” The woman who looked to be around Joyce’s age asked.
“Uh, I’d like to check in, please. Should be under Harrington.”
She scrolled through the system to find it, “Oh yes, you’re here for the wedding? Bride or groom?”
“Bride, she’s cousins with my-”
“You’re wife? I’ll get you an extra key then, one for both of you.”
“Thank you.”
“Enjoy your stay, room 217.”
“Thank you.”
***
“God, I’m exhausted.” Y/n threw herself down on the bed, wet hair and all. Everything about this room was so much bigger than their apartment. The bed, the bathtub; the kitchen was smaller though, but there was a much bigger space as a sort of living room. The fake fire was going and the tv above it was stuck on one of those MTV channels, the ones that only play music with slideshows of various album covers, because they couldn’t figure out the remote. She called the lobby about it and found Steve must have made quite an impression in the few days they’ve been there. “Hi, we’re in room 217, our remote kind of broke and it’s stuck on one channel.” “217, hmm… Oh you must be Steve’s wife, he’s quite the charmer down here.” “He usually is. Um, is there anyone who can help us with this?” “Unfortunately not at the moment, but we can send someone up first thing in the morning, just give us a ring and we’ll send maintenance right up there.” “Will do, thank you.” “Mhm, have a lovely night Mrs. Harrington.” “You as well.”
Steve came out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam surrounding him and a fluffy, white towel around his hips. “Steve?”
“Hm?” But his main focus was on digging through his drawers for pajamas.
“Have you been telling everyone in the lobby I’m your wife?”
He quickly straightened with his sweatpants clutched tight to his chest. “No-uh…no. They just assumed and, y’know like, who’d pass up a chance to have such a total knockout babe for a wife, right? So I just-didn’t correct them.”
“Mhm,” the look in her eyes feigned skepticism, but she really didn’t mind, she thought it was cute. “Can’t flirt your way out of this one, Harrington.”
“No flirting, just truthing.” He knew even that wouldn’t save him from his fate, her thinking he’s such a dork and then most likely going home to tell Robin all about it. He needed to think fast before she rolled over on the bed and picked up the phone to dial Robin’s number, he thought he could see her fingers already twitching in its direction. The song changed and while the intro played and he rushed to get dressed, inspiration struck. He held his hand out for her hoping she’d get the hint. 
“What?”
“Come dance with me.”
“This is hardly a danceable song,” she swung her legs over the side. 
“It’s John Mellencamp, of course it’s danceable.” Steve pulled her up by the hand even though she was already going to walk over. 
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Sh, sh, sh, let me listen.” He held their joined hands in the air, her left in his right, and his other was on her waist, swaying side to side and rotating around in a circle.
“You dance like such a dad,” she half whispered, half giggled.
“I’m a great dancer.”
“I never said you weren’t.”
“Could you listen to the song please, they’re like us,” and he started mouthing the words out with his breath.
A little ditty 'bout Jack and Diane; Two American kids growing up in the heart land
“Steve, we’re from Indiana.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“That’s not the heartland.”
“I’m pretty sure the heartland is all of the midwest.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Jack, he's gonna be a football star; Diane's debutante, backseat of Jacky's car
“You played basketball and swam, those are like the furthest things from football.”
“You’re really draining all the fun out of this,” but she could feel the rumbles of his laugh with her ear pressed to his sternum. 
“And I’m not a debutante and we’ve never done anything in the back of your car.”
“The point that you’re purposely missing is that they’re in love.”
“I know they’re in love, but I’m in love-er with you.”
“Is that the right way to say that? Not ‘more in love?’”
“Well now look who’s being willingly obtuse.”
“I’m not obtuse, you’re obtuse.”
“I’m not obtuse, I’m in love with you.”
“I’m in love with you too.” He rested his head on top of hers, his eyes stuck on her bare fingers. “But those things can coexist.”
“Steve!”
This was not a request but I thought of it at work because all we listen to is fm radio and everyday John Tesh makes me want to strangle myself with receipt paper. But I had the idea and I thought it was cute, and as always, it got way out of hand. So here, have my first complete Steve Harrington one shot <3
Tagging some babes because I love you and I want to annoy you all @beezywriting @haydipoof @sw34terw34ther @esperisdrunkinwonderland @avipoof @loving-and-dreaming @katsu28 @manyfandomsfanvergent and if i think of anyone else and they don't get to this before I get to them <3
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Text
and it's you -- it's you -- again
A little something I made about 2.5 years ago in a creative writing class and now I know I'll never peak again wHOOPs
“We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”
“A million times over – and I beg you, no more.”
The first time they met, their footsteps faded in the sand by the ocean – by the edges of a then-world in the garden his father had built for them. Where she was wild and free, and new and different. And she scaled the great heights of every tree. There, she dipped her fingers in starlight, painted the world with gold and crimson, and together, they shared each and every night beneath a shining sky. It was perfect back then, and they were young, and naive. And they thought that hiding love would be enough to preserve it. Because then, their love was against the rules, because she was meant for another, and he was never meant for happy endings. And because she was meant for another, and because there were no happy endings, the fire that painted his world gold and crimson became the very fire that destroyed it. And her replacement, he tempted in anger, with envy, with a fruit – and with the intent that his father would realize a perfect universe was lost without her. Perhaps, to an extent, it worked – if not in the most mocking of ways. For they met a second time, a third, a fourth, fifth– 
And now– 
He sits alone.
In the corner of a downtown diner.
Coffee set nearby and scribbling idly in the yellow pages of a blood-and-tea-stained journal.
For the most part, it’s quiet. At least in the corner, it’s quiet. Nobody bothers him, not when they’re distracted with the colored TV blaring on in the background. It’s crackled now and again by static – red, green, and blue clustered in corners – while the radio in the back has been silenced, gathering cobwebs in spite of itself. And on the channel, the announcer goes–
TONIGHT – breaking news – on political relations with the east. Tonight, on the locust swarm threatening America’s food supply. Tonight, we discuss the new variant of the black plague. And tonight, we talk about the mysterious disease threatening cattle. And– tonight–
He ignores it, too busy with his own mind.
His ignorance, his busy-ness, is the reason there were girls here and there – just temporary flings to fill in the void. Not that he hurt them and tossed them aside – he waited, as he did with her, until their wicks burned out, and he was alone once more. In his boredom, and aside from them, he watched the world go round – go on without him. And as it went on, soldiers left their homes – twice, thrice, a hundred – a thousand times over while claiming peace and the intent to end all wars. He was blamed for it all, unsurprisingly, while he sat still – a mere yet ultimate arbitrator who, like men claim to be, simply encouraged humanity to decide its ending. For, as he’d learned throughout the years, only endings bring about true peace.
And the way humanity was going, now was the perfect time for such an ending.
– but it’s you – yes, it’s you – and it’s you – it’s you – again.
“Sir, are you alright?”
“Yeah, lost in thought. Been distracted lately. Sorry.”
The red-haired woman across the counter tilts her head aside in worry, brow furrowed together, and faint wrinkles knit tightly – yet she sends him a sympathetic smile as if he were a puppy, thrown out on the side of the road, left to wander, to roam. But she didn’t linger on the topic.
“Just checking in – diner closes at ten.”
She wipes the counter free of crumbs, and from the motion, he sees she’s not wearing a ring – but it’s the umpteenth time around, and maybe he’s early, and she won’t accept one from him – and if she did, it wouldn’t last. It would be a desire half filled.
 “You’ve been here for a while, too, so sorry if it’s a touchy topic, but I know there’s a lot of bars around. Need me to call someone to pick you up?”
At that, he shakes his head, a half amused chuckle leaving his throat.
“No, no. I know it’s late, but I’m not drunk or crazy – really. I’m just… thinking. Promise. Can’t get drunk easy anyway.”
“And the crazy part?”
“Well– regarding crazy – actually, I dunno yet.”
Now her smile is equally amused as he is, and she leans her forearms across the counter. “Is that what the notebook’s for, then? To write down crazy thoughts?”
“Something like that, yeah. At least, I used to write – not so much anymore. Apparently it’s better to talk to yourself through writing instead of saying it aloud. If I did the latter, then people would really think I’m crazy, and they wouldn’t be far off the mark.”
“The real question isn’t if you’re crazy – it’s if you’re dangerous. Are you?”
“About that… maybe.”
She nods but doesn’t believe the possibility. No – she looks mildly skeptical, if not somehow confused, and for once, that skepticism is a step back from the forward momentum of evolution. From the wild and free to responsible and tight-laced – it’s difficult to think she’s here again. She’s her again. She’s her.
“Well, if you need anything, I’ll be here – just gimme a call. I know I said the diner closes at ten, but closing shift ends at eleven. So– maybe–” she says, imitating his vague answer– “I’ll let you stay a few more minutes.”
She tops up his cold coffee with fresh bittersweet brew – not even asking if he wants more – only to freeze and face the screen – where the TV – tonight – is interrupted by a call.
TONIGHT – breaking news – we are receiving reports that we are under attack.
And there’s babies crying, children crying. Adults and seniors, too. And above the crying, screaming, wails, and whispered prayers that fall on deaf ears. There’s people rushing to the train station, and the waitress turns, hurries – out the door. But she’s not going for herself – she’s going for all of them, and she’s helping them down the steps, she’s helping them follow the light–
– and he stares. What was that song again?
… I don’t want to set the world on fire.
It’s only by her example that he follows suit.
Soon he’s guiding an old woman and her husband down to the next door subway. They thank him while he’s lifting their weight, but really, he’s lifting his weight – because he never wanted their endings, he only wanted his own. So he doesn’t join her – or them –  he doesn’t join them there. He returns to the diner, to the counter, sits and stirs his coffee, and in the back of his mind, the song continues – a melody from a far off place. Speaking of intentions once pure, regretful. Then corrupted, pure no more.
I just want to start a flame in your heart.
The people were half the noise, the TV and siren otherwise. But even with the TV still on, even with a siren’s grand alarm, he feels no different now. No different in his solitude. Though perhaps, that in itself is a lie, for he feels a little sadder at heart. There’s even a little discomfort, too, something gnawing and bubbling like an iceberg shoved underwater. It’s a volcanic eruption waiting to burst – something familiar and unfamiliar, something lost and once again new– or maybe was always there –
And he doesn’t quite know why.
The diner will remain dingy as ever – the floors just barely swept. There’ll be dust bunnies beneath each tabletop, and oily handprints leftover on windowsills. And the ground beneath it is even older – hundreds of feet down, the same ground since creation.  And in the odd quiet, he slides back his sleeve to watch a mechanical device go tick tick tick.
Oh–
“I don’t wanna set the world on fire, honey,” he recites to himself. “I love you too much.”
I just – 
“Mister?”
– wanna start –
“Hey, mister?”
– a great big flame –
“C’mon, we needa get to–”
– down in your heart –
– “the shelter.”
“It’s fine. Leave me be.” He sips his coffee again. “I know what it’s like, thinking the world will end. You always think it will, but it won’t.”
“What kind of death wish– god– is that why you came back?” She scrunches her nose, tugging at his sleeve, hair in disarray. “Look, mister. I-I don’t know you, and– and you don’t know me. But I’m not letting you sit out here while the world falls apart. If you’re gonna die, at least die trying, instead of waiting for some bomb to drop on you.”
“Trust me. I’m telling you. I’m not going to die.”
She grabs his hand, ignores his words – he clasps hers – then remembers himself – and ultimately lets go. He tells her again–
“I’m not going to die. But Lilith, you– you have died. A million times over. And I’ve watched every single time. And as much as it pains me, you always come back, and as much as I love you, it’s nothing but torture. So please. Please. Leave me be. You go – live a little longer this time around. Choose something other than him – him or me.”
He looks up and sees tears streaming down her face, and suddenly – no, as always – she’s as beautiful as the first time they met. The first time, yes, and every moment from then onwards. Yes, she’s as beautiful as the sunset, as beautiful as the sunrise, and in that moment, the way he used to look at the night sky is the way he looks at her now. Like he knows he’ll have to let go again – that the light he sees is a projection, the remaining shadow of a living dying star, the remaining evidence it ever existed. And that – like the night sky where she dipped her hands in the starlight – the power of endless suns would annihilate the darkness.
And she spoke– again–
“Lucifer, please.”
Oh. Oh. Oh– it’s been so long– since he remembered his own name, because until then, all he could think about was–
You.
Because it’s–
You – and it’s you – yes, it's you – it’s you – again.
“We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”
“A million times over – and I beg you, no more.”
And on the channel, the announcer goes–
– For those in the city, follow the flashing lights and direct yourself to the nearest shelter. If you are in an isolated area, avoid – I repeat, avoid – populated areas. We believe attacks will be concentrated in the following cities: Washington DC. NYC. San Francisco, LA –
The list goes on and on, but he’s quick to turn off the TV, and he lets her pull him up, arms wrapped tight around a trembling body. And it’s him that’s trembling, though they’re both undeniably afraid.
“It’s cruel, isn’t it?” she whispered. “That I only remember now?”
“Fitting when it’s all my fault. I’m the one who led you astray. I’m the one who ended the world, because I wanted– I wanted– I’m sorry–”
“No, you – you gave me a choice. I was created for someone else, but you – yes, it's you – that I chose. And again – Lucifer – it’s you I’ll always choose. I know you want the world to end, that you want all of this to end, but if I could, I’d remember you – I’d love you – again. A million times over, and a million times more.”
And he understands. He knows – he realizes why the rules have changed. The old woman, her husband – yes, he never wanted their endings. Though in that moment, he doesn’t respond. No – forgetting all else but his love, he turns on the radio, embraces her in return. Rests his chin in those crimson gold locks, humming softly as the world turns. And they dance  – together. For the first time – they fly, they soar. For the first time, they share a second – a breath since the beginning of the world. 
And like the missiles, the journal burns, the radio – sings:
I’ve lost all ambition for worldly acclaim. I just want to be the one you love. And with your admission that you feel the same, I’ll have reached the goal I’m dreaming of. Believe me– I don’t want to set the world on fire. I just want to start a flame in your heart.
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giggly-squiggily · 2 years
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Ahhh, I had a dream that would kill me if it were turned into a fic🤭. You are the single greatest T-word writer and KnY writer on this platform. If you're up to it, may you please write a fic with Lee! Muichiro and Ler! Shinobu?
P.s Get well soon!✌(If you're still sick)
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Y’all are too sweet oh my goodness! I am humbled by such high praise! Thank you anons! Both for the kind words and the chance to write for our baby boy Mui! Since we’ve got similar prompts, I’ve decided to combine them! :D I hope you like it!
Cloud 9 (Taglist)
@myreygn, @thatbigbisexual29, @duckymcdoorknob, @wolfyeatstacos, @gladdygirl18, @baby-tickles2022, @cupcake-spice13, @backy-san
“Who’s a little cutie? You are, yes you are! Yes you are!” Mitsuri cooed over Muichiro, her fingers flying along his stomach and sides.
“My my, Tokito- I haven’t seen a smile that big in a while from you! Kanroji is right- you truly are adorable.” Shinobu smiled behind her free hand, the other giving his neck and chin a brother scribble.
“Plehehahahhahahshe wahhahahhahahit!” He cried, squirming here and there as the girls tickled him relentlessly, cheeks bright pink and eyes misty with laughter.
You're probably wondering how the young Hashira got himself into a situation like this.
Well, it all started a mere few hours prior…
~~~
“Kocho-san! I have everything we need for tonight!” Mitsuri all but ran to the smaller woman, a basket of freshly baked treats in hand. The aroma was enough to shake Muichiro out of his daydreaming, turning his attention to the pair a few short meters away.
“Wonderful, Kanroji-san! It looks like you’ve baked quite a bit- I’m sure Kanao and the others will be thrilled.” Shinobu clapped her hands together, just as moved by the sugary sweet smell it seemed. “I made sure to clear out my schedule this evening- we won’t be bothered by any stray patients or the boys.”
“Is it a bad thing I’m happy they won’t crash girls night?” Mitsuri winced slightly, shame coloring cheeks. “I love them but they’re so…”
“Loud? Obnoxious? Smelly?” Shinobu offered a variety of adjectives.
“Well…yes.” Mitsuri gave in, earning a delighted giggle from the other. “It’s alright though- from what I hear they’re all going camping tonight.”
Camping? Muichiro hadn’t got the memo.
Or perhaps he did but wasn’t paying attention…
“Did they already leave?” Shinobu asked, suddenly aware of the lack of noise in the area. “I wonder if Shinazugawa’s gonna fight a bear again.”
“I believe so- fight what now?” Mitsuri stared. “And what do you mean again?”
“Long story- Oh! Tokito-san! You’re still here?” Whoops- he’d been caught. The Mist Hashira was trying to make a quiet escape, freezing when Shinobu called out to him. Turning around, he tugged at the ends of his hair, trying for nonchalance. “Oh, hey ladies. I was just…heading home.”
“Home? What- Don’t tell me they didn’t invite you?” Mitsuri looked crossed, eyes wide with indignation. “How cruel!”
“No, I’m sure they did- I just forgot.” Muichiro shrugged, hating how unsure his voice sounded. Had they not invited him? And if they did- why did no one remind him? Normally someone would come around to get him.
Maybe it was one of those “Grown ups only” trips. They probably didn’t want a kid like him around.
The thought made him rather sad then.
“So you're just going home? On such a nice day?” Mitsuri sounded alarmed, the concern oddly making him feel more like a kid. “But that’s no fun!”
“I’ll be fine. I'm a Hashira. I’ll train.” He straightened, raising his chin. “Then I’ll…do other stuff. Like…” He racked his brain for adult-like activities, mind running blank. “Train some more.”
“That’s a lot of training to do in one night.” Mitsuri tilted her head curiously. “What happens when you get too tired?”
“Then I’ll take a nap. And get right back to it.”
“Sounds boring.” Shinobu commented, smiling apologetically when Muichiro blushed. “Forgive me, Tokito-san.” Pausing, she turned back to Mitsuri, pulling the other girl over and whispering in her ear. The Love Hashira’s eyes widened before a bright smile touched her lips, nodding. “That’s a great idea!”
“What is?” Muichiro asked, growing weary when they turned to him with smiles.
“Mui, do you wanna join us this evening?”
~~~
“I can’t believe they’d go off without you like that. When they get back, those boys aren’t getting a crumb of my treats!” Mitsuri huffed as she ran her fingers through Muichiro’s hair, gently untangling it one strand at a time. They were now sitting at the butterfly mansion, pillows and blankets spread out and a variety of Mitsuri’s snacks on display for whomever felt hungry. Changed into comfy pajamas, the youngest Hashira nibbled on a cookie while the pink haired girl began a braid, starting from the top of his head and working her way down.
“My my, I believe it will be the first time we see Rengoku not smiling if you do that.” Shinobu grinned with impish glee, a few bottles of nail polish to her left as she carefully worked an ombre of pink to green on her friend’s toenails. With her hair down, she looked less regal. It felt like Muichiro was sitting with an older sister rather than the team’s doctor. “He’s like a grumpy cat when he pouts. Have you ever noticed that?”
“Oh absolutely! It’s rare, but it’s so funny!” Mitsuri giggled. “He just pouts and hides away- eventually coming out if you shake some treats.”
“I bet if he could, he’d crawl up on a dresser.” Muichiro added, earning another round of giggles from the girls. It made him feel good.
“Oh man- I can totally see him curled up on there and glaring at everyone!” Mitsuri laughed so hard she snorted, nearly throwing off Shinobu’s handiwork with how hard she was giggling. “Kanroji, your toes!” She cried, dabbing at the mess.
“I’m sorry- blame Muichiro!” Mitsuri cried back, falling into him some as he gaped in shock. “He’s the one putting all these Cat-Rengoku images in my head!”
“He really is though! He’s got those big cat eyes.” Muichiro defended, earning another pig snort from the girl.
“Pfft, okay, okay! No more cat talk until I get this last toe done!” Shinobu shook her head with a snicker at Muichiro as she carried on her task. “You’re gonna have tie dye feet if you keep squirming like that.”
“Not the first time, probably won’t be the last either.” Mitsuri was back doing Muichiro’s hair, her touch gentle against his scalp. “Thanks for letting me braid your hair, Mui. It’s so soft and long! Has it always been this way?”
“I think so…I don’t really remember.” He admitted quietly, stuffing his face with another cookie before they could ask anymore questions. The memories of his past were still so foggy. He remembered bits and pieces- a face like his own, a hut in which he lived. What really stood out were the feelings. Most of the time, his past felt like an ache in his chest, familiar yet unknown at the same time. It was frustrating- having all this pain but no memory of what caused it.
“Tokito-san?” Shinobu’s voice shook him free from his internal ache, making him look up. He was sure she was going to ask him what was wrong. The “I’m fine” was on his lips, but she surprised him with her next question. “Would you like your nails painted?”
“What?” His nails? Painted?
“Oo, that would be so pretty!” Misturi gushed, excited by the idea. “We could be twins! Maybe not in color, but through Kocho’s handiwork! She’s really good at painting nails, as you can see!”
Sure enough, Mitsuri’s toenails were impeccable. Despite her earlier squirming, Shinobu’s hand stayed true.
“Sure. Go for it.” Muichiro shrugged, feeling good at the delighted expression Shinobu wore.
“Okay! What color would you like?”
~~~
“Do you think Iguro-san likes me?” Mitsuri asked not too long later- her hair loose and spread out like a fan beneath her.
“Of course he does. The way he looks at you says it all.” Shinobu reassured her, also on her back, her toes painted bright purple. “No one looks at someone with that much adoration for jokes.”
“Ador-what, he really does?” Mitsuri blushed, hands on her cheeks and eyes wide. “He looks at me like that?”
“Like you're the only person in the room.” Muichiro agreed, the third on his back, raising a hand to look at his newly painted nails. After his toes, they did his fingers. He rather liked the teal color Shinobu chose- it was sparkly. “Really- the only person in the world sometimes.”
Misturi made a noise of squealing delight, covering her face as she giggled, kicking her feet. “Oh, I wanna tell him I like him so bad! Maybe I’ll do it one day- I’m just too nervous right now!” She lowered her hands, tilting her head back so she could look at her friends properly. “What about you two? Anyone you guys fancy?”
“Fancy? Look at you, using Tengen-lingo.” Shinobu teased, earning a light tug at her hair. “I don’t have anyone I fancy right now. I’m too busy.”
“What about Tomioka?” Muichiro asked, making them pause. Then they were laughing. “Did I say something funny?”
“Ohohoho honey- Tomioka’s dating Shinazugawa!” Shinobu giggled out, laughing harder at his face of surprise. “You didn’t know that?”
“I thought it was pretty obvious myself- they’re not exactly subtle about it!” Mitsuri nodded in agreement, turning over so she could lay on her belly. “The other day they were trying so hard to make it seem like they arrived separately!”
“Yeah, like we couldn’t see the wrinkled Haori on Tomioka!” Shinobu’s eyes were impish once more. “When he came in the other day, he smelled like Ohage. He tried to claim he got it as a snack.”
“Oh I’m sure he got a snack.” Mitsuri winked, earning a swat from a wide eyed Shinobu.
“Wait- how long have they been dating?” Muichiro asked, curious now. He never really cared for Corp gossip, but he was here and things were getting interesting.
“I’d say about two months now? Though they’ve been pining for each other for way longer.” Shinobu nodded, satisfied with her answer. “Shinazugawa always blushed when Tomioka complimented him, even when he threw a fit after.”
“Such a tsun-tsun.” Mitsuri shook her head in mock disappointment. “And Tomioka-san can be rather clueless about these kinds of things. It’s no wonder they took so long to get together.”
“Tragically so.” Shinobu mock sighed, giggling with her friend.
Tsun-Tsun? Clueless? Muichiro was learning new sides to his fellow Hashira tonight.
“So, Mui…what about you, hon?” Mitsuri smiled, eyes twinkling. “Anyone you fancy?”
At first, Muichiro didn’t know what to say. Did he fancy anyone? Not in the Hashira of course, but…
Sharp eyes. Black hair that flowed to his shoulder. A scar that ran along his nose-
“Ooo, he’s got a crush!” Misturi squealed in delight when Muichiro blushed, eyes widening with shock. Did he? He had a crush? “Who is it? What are they like? Is it someone we know?”
“Now now, Kanroji, give him a second.” Shinobu slowed the other down gently as she turned to him. “Muichiro, have you ever had a crush on anyone before?”
“No. Not really.” He confessed, face burning. It felt weirdly shameful to say it outloud. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not at all!” Mitsuri jumped in, taking his hand in hers. “Crushes aren’t a mandatory thing; take Kyojuro for example. He’s never had a crush, and from what he’s told me, he’s never had romantic feelings for anyone. That doesn’t make him a bad person, right?”
“Of course not.”
“Exactly. And look at Kanroji-san. She crushes on everyone.” Shinobu smiled at her friend, grinning at her mock jaw drop. “That’s also perfectly valid.”
“Hey! I can’t help it- the world’s full of crushable people.” Mitsuri defended without much fight.
“The point is- when and if you develop a crush is completely up to you. There’s never a lifeframe on when you experience these things.” Shinobu reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “So- now that that’s clear; who’s the lucky person your heart is racing for?”
“I don’t really know his name. I met him while training with Gyomei a few times.” Muichiro looked at his and Mitsuri’s conjoined hands, the feeling of her gently squeezing it comforting. “He’s not really talkative, but the few times we have it’s really…nice.” He blushed, remembering how warm his crush’s voice was. “He has a scar on his nose, if that helps.”
“Genya!” The girls gushed, realization filling their voices.
“I think so…he’s great.” Muichiro smiled softly. Genya. He rather liked that name.
“That’s Shinazugawa’s brother, right?” Mitsuri asked.
“The younger of the two? Absolutely. He helps out here some days.” Shinobu nodded approvingly. “Sometimes I wish he was the Hashira one.”
“Oh, you're terrible, Kocho!”
“Not so- I’m just honest.”
Muichiro giggled in his sleeve, feeling lighter. A crush. He had a crush on Genya. And from the sounds of it, the girls approved. It was really exciting.
“Oi, did you just throw a pillow at me?” Shinobu’s yelp of surprise brought him back to present time. Mitsuri had her own pillow in hand, giggling like a gremlin.
“Oh I did! Come at me, Kocho!” She declared, squealing when the pillow in question smacked her right in the face.
It took less than five seconds before the duel broke out- pillows smacking one another as the girls screamed in laughter. Muichiro originally planned on using his own as defense, but before long he was just as into it as them, smacking whomever was in reach and yelping when he got smacked in return.
Of course- nothing ever stayed on track in fights like this. Mitsuri tossed away her pillow before lunging at Shinobu, knocking her into a pile of soft things. “Kanro-jihihihihihiihhiihihi!” Her cry of surprise turned into laughter as the taller girl attacked her with tickles, fingers flying across her stomach and sides with relentless speed.
“This is what you get, Kocho! Laugh for me-hehehehehehhehe!” Shinobu was quick, her own hands latching onto Mitsuri’s sides and squeezing- making her shriek in mirth. “Kohohohoohochoohohoohohoho!”
Muichiro sat back with amused eyes, giggling behind his pillow as he watched the pair tumble about, limbs flying and squeals spilling past their lips as they went to tickle the other. Whenever he saw Tengen and Rengoku having a tickle fight, he thought it was kinda funny. The girls doing it? It was downright hilarious.
That was, until they turned their sights onto him.
“Get Mui!” Mitsuri cried, tackling him. Shinobu was right beside her.
~~~
That’s where we find our dear Mist Hashira now, squirming and giggling helplessly as twenty fingers attack his torso, going for all his tickle spots.
“Aww, listen to him laugh! Mui, you are so cute!” Mitsuri cooed, giggling along with him as she gently pressed into his ribs, her talents as an older sister shining through each new scratch and prod.
“He’s rather precious, isn’t he? Sweet Tokito-san; I bet Genya would drop dead on the spot hearing you laugh so much!” Shinobu winked, grinning as Muichiro felt his face heat up more. He was starting to regret telling them about that.
“Plehehahhahahahse, stahhahahhap!” Muichiro wheezed, arching with a cackle as Mitsuri slipped her hand under him, clawing lightly at his back. “Nohohohohohot thehehehhere!”
“Aww, does someone have a ticklish back? Kanroji, flip him over!” Shinobu instructed. The taller girl wasted no time, pulling him into her lap as Shinobu shuffled over.
“Tokito-san, what does this say?” She then began her devious torture.
“AH! Ahehaahhahahhahahaha! Kohohoohohochohoohohoo!” A single finger dragged along his spine, writing out letters along his back. Each swipe made his brain fuzzy, breaking his focus. “Iihihiihihi dohoohohhohon’t knoohoohohohow!”
“Wrong! Try again! I’ll go slower this time.” It was worse slow. Even with the fabric of his pajamas in the way, it tickled like crazy. “Let’s start with ‘C’....’U’....”
“C-Cuhuuhuhuuhuhuhute?” He gasped out, earning a cheer.
“Right! And who’s cute, Tokito-san?” She traced the rest of the word, making him arch more.
“Y-Yohoohohohu twoohohohoho?” He guessed, earning more gushing.
“Such a charmer!” Mitsuri giggled.
“Isn’t he? Correct, but not the answer I’m looking for!” Shinobu scratched along the center of his spine, earning a snort. “Who’s cute, Tokito-san?”
“Fihiihhihine, fiihiihihine I’m cuuhuhuhuhuhte!” He gave in, relieved when the tickling finally stopped. Gasping for breath, he rolled gently off of Mitsuri, tucked between them as he tried to recover. “Thahahhaht was evihiihihihil!”
“Thank you.” Shinobu replied, making them laugh.
“You really are a cutie, Muichiro. Never forget that.” Mitsuri ran her hands through his bangs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. Anyone else would have gotten smacked away, but Muichiro found he rather liked the attention he got from the girls.
~~~
“Thanks for inviting me…I appreciate it.” He whispered softly, lying on his futon later that night. After the snacks were finished, more gossip was spilled, and yet another random tickle fight- this time Mitsuri being the one targeted; they were all sprawled out once more, this time with the intention of sleeping.
“Of course, Mui. We didn’t want you to be alone.” Mitsuri reached out and squeezed his hand.
“I would have been fine…” He began, realizing the lie as he spoke it. He wouldn’t have been. Not really. Sure, he’d get over it eventually-but the sting would have remained. Going home alone would have felt isolating.
“Well, I wouldn’t have. Not after what happened.” Shinobu shuffled over so her arm brushed his other side, taking his free hand. “I’m glad you came. Tonight was really fun.”
“It was! We should do this more often. And you can come too, Mui.” Mitsuri nodded, her voice growing sleepier by the minute.
“You're an honorary girl’s night member.” Shinobu agreed.
“Thanks, girls.” Muichiro smiled, pretending the blur in his vision was from sleepiness. He closed his eyes and settled in for a rest.
He was glad to have met the people he’d met.
I hope this was good!
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skylarmoon71 · 1 year
Text
Timeless Wells (Flash) Soldier- Chapter 18
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The slightly annoying part of new romantic relationships is the constant updates about progress from your friend.
“I’m telling you when he takes off his glasses it’s like he becomes a different person.”
You frown, scribbling angrily at your reports.
“While I enjoy hearing about your blossoming love life Iris, I have a bunch of documents to get through. So please.” 
You gesture to the door of your office, and she laughs.
“Someone’s in a crabby mood.” She snickered.
A few of her lunches were spent with you at Star Labs. While you enjoyed the girl talk. You were still losing sleep over that very vivid dream. Because the flashes were getting more intense. But it’s not like you could tell Iris that you were having sexual fantasies about your boss again. She’d given you a hard time the first time around. You needed to reclaim your dignity.
“Well I should get back to the precinct. See you later.”
You wave her off as she leaves. The door closes, and you barely notice that Harrison has slipped inside.
“Finally some peace.” You mutter.
“Detective West giving you a few headaches?” Harrison joked.
You shake your head.
“No, I’ve just been a bit swamped. I am still managing a company. I’m trying to stay on top of everything just in case we encounter any other supernatural situations.”
“That’s smart. For Team Flash it’s just another Tuesday.”
“Of course it is.”
Harrison is standing by the door, and he just watches you. He takes it all in. When he got his life back, he’d told himself that he needed a fresh start. He wanted to make sure that he helped as many people as he could with whatever time he had left on this earth. Nothing was promised in life.
He knew that first hand. He’d experienced a lot. Something he didn’t account for again was falling in love. Tess would always be his first. But lately, it felt like he was opening himself to other possibilities he hadn’t considered in the last few years that he was here.
You don’t lift your head.
“Did you need help with something sir?”
He nodded.
“Yes, I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me tonight.”
That catches your attention.
“Dinner?”
“Yes. A candle light, a meal and maybe some soft music.”
Your brows knit. He couldn’t have really been asking you out on a date, could he?
“Like a date.”
“Exactly!!”
You frown.
“I’m sorry sir, but I’ll have to decline.”
His shoulders sag.
He can’t help it, he needs to know.
“Would it be wrong of me to ask why?” 
You finally place your pen down.
“We work together. You’re my superior, I’m your employee. That’s all this is. I’ve been down this road already.” 
He briefly remembers the story you told of your past love.
“But this is different I’m not-”
“It’s not different.” You interrupt.
“I’m sorry sir, but the answer is no.” Your words leave no room for conversation. Harrison takes a step back.
“I understand. I apologize for overstepping. I’ll leave you to it.” He turns. As he walks away, you can feel your chest tightened.
“I’m sorry.” You say as he stops by the door.
“So am I.”
He steps out, closing it and you drop your head on the desk.
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starrypawz · 8 months
Note
Kiss prompt 34 “to pretend” – ship choice is yours
AO3 Kissing Prompts
There’s a part of Gerry that does wonder if he should be concerned about one: how easy it is to get into places he shouldn’t and two: how comfortable he’s become getting into places he shouldn’t. 
And tonight the place he shouldn’t be in and is far too comfortable about the fact he’s in somewhere he shouldn’t is a former English department building on a university campus that seems to have been commandeered by the drama society as surplus storage. There’d been a lock but it felt more from appearances sake with how easy it was to get past (There’s also a part of him that should be worried about how blase so many places seem to be about their security).
(And judging from the empty WKD bottle he’d nearly tripped over and something on the floor that looked suspiciously like a condom wrapper he had a good idea how else this building has been repurposed by students taking advantage of the lax security) 
He’s focused on a bookshelf hidden behind a couple of clear plastic crates which contain haphazardly shoved elements of costumes. (According to the label on the box these were from a production of Grease and well there is the arm of a pink satin jacket poking out of one of them so that tracks)
“Move the torch down?” 
Nemo does. 
“So what are we looking for?” 
“A copy of The Waste Land…” He pauses for a second, nearly all of these books are more than a little dog eared, cheap paperbacks clearly used and abused by countless students until their inglorious retirement, falling right into that category of books that are old but not actually worth anything.
 And that’s… that’s… Frost. 
“Let me guess… End?” 
“What?”
“Like… if it’s The Waste Land it’s going to be connected to The End right?” And then Nemo adds after a moment, “Or Spiral?” 
Frost… Frost… Fucking Frost. 
“Actually… Hey move the light to the right a little…” Nemo does, “It… It might be Buried?” 
“Huh…” Nemo feels an answering little drop in their stomach that they try to ignore. “There’s… not a lot about this one,” Gerry then finds way too many Wordsworths, “I mean it makes sense,” Gerry shrugs, “The Waste Land has themes of collapse and that is actually a feature of the Buried” 
“Right…”
He picks up on the twinge of discomfort in Nemo’s voice, “Nemo?”
“I’m ok…” Nemo sighs, “Just… you know,”
“Yeah…” Gerry sighs, and his thoughts drift back for a moment to that night in Camden “I know,” 
“I mean… at least I met you?” Nemo gives a soft chuckle,
“Yeah,” Gerry gives a fond sigh, “Romance for the ages right?” He skips over some Keats and Kiplings, “But yeah, Buried, just a hunch,” Still nothing, “There’s not a lot about this one, I think thankfully not many people have interacted with it,” He pauses as he checks a few more, no luck “Mostly heard accounts about feelings of doom,” 
Nemo snorts, “That narrows it down,”
Gerry laughs. He’s on the bottom shelf now but still no Elliot, looks over a few more books and. 
“Fuck,” He mutters
“No luck?” 
“Yeah,” Gerry sighs, he checks again and no. 
“Are you sure it’s here?” 
“Yes,”
And then he realises that came out way more terse than he intended and sighs, “Sorry,”
“It’s ok…”
“It’s just,” Gerry stands up, “It’s around here somewhere,” He pauses, “I Know,” 
An innocuous masquerade of an outmoded, long forgotten, battered, dog-eared paperback, spine cracked, black ballpoint scribble on the pale blue cover. Hidden amongst countless others in a former English department building a relic left behind after its replacement with a glass fishbowl. 
He takes a deep breath and focuses on that pull deep down, it’s always subtle but he’s found most of the time it’s in his best interests to follow. 
Entombed, lies in wait with those destined to meet their end. 
He starts to move and Nemo follows. Away from the shelves and to a corner and a stack of archive boxes that on closer inspection are marked To Be Pulped. 
Here. It’s here. Somewhere. 
Follow the pull follow follow and…
This One
He’s on his knees, and rifle through the box with gloved hands. The books in here have been placed haphazardly. And they’re even more battered and dog eared than the ones on the bookshelves. To the point he picks up one and the cover detached.
He puts his hand in once more and 
There.
“Got it!”
He holds the copy of The Waste Land aloft. Pale blue, dog eared and with a ballpoint pen scribble on the cover. It’s little surprise the contents of the box are dusty as dust motes float away caught in torch light, but this book is suspiciously so.
“You were right,” 
Gerry shrugs, “Just a hunch,” As he focuses on unzipping his rucksack and getting the book secured away in a heavy canvas bag. 
“Right,” He gives a sigh of relief as he stands up and shoulders his bag, “Let’s-” 
“Shit!” Nemo pulls (or at least does their best to do so and he follows) them more into the corner
“Nemo-”
“There’s… someone around-” 
And then he hears it. Echoing footsteps from outside the room, heavy ones that from experience he knows tend to belong to security guards or police. (He hopes it’s the former) 
“Shit!” Gerry echoes and tries to think. There’s only one door, and the windows are not an option (He had tested one on the way in and had found they’re that sort that only lets you open them enough to get a breeze in) 
There’s a flash of light through the glass and the sound of a door opening 
Maybe we could-
He loses that thought as he finds himself pulled down and kissed. He gives a muffled sound of surprise and it takes more than a moment for him to kiss back. 
This works
He gives a soft sigh as their positions change, Nemo now up on their toes and he’s not sure where to put his hand on the small of their back. And despite everything he feels himself start to melt into the kiss as he’s reminded yet again how Nemo seems to fit perfectly against him. And then Nemo’s hand dares to slip under the hem of his shirt (A recently broached frontier) and he shudders from both the touch of Nemo’s chilled fingertips (Not that he minds, if anything he’s found there’s something about the sensation against his skin he’s starting to crave) and how sensitive the skin of his stomach is anyway.
He feels his pulse kick up and he’ll take this reason for it kicking up rather than that ‘I am currently running for my life’ way he’s far too familiar with especially as it’s followed with that warmth from deep down that’s becoming a regular feature by this point and-
Suddenly, they're bathed in light. Too bright and even with his eyes shut he winces. 
There’s a part of his brain still working, not lost in the result of Nemo’s attentions that reminds him of exactly where they are and how this ruse might not…
“Bloody students!” Comes a brusque mutter before the footsteps pick up again. Whoever found them has probably, hopefully decided it’s not with the paperwork and the late night phonecalls. 
They probably could stop kidding once the door shuts. They probably should stop kissing but they don’t. They keep kissing even as the steps trail off into the distance. 
(They might come back? Better safe than sorry right?)
(At least that what Gerry tells himself, this is necessary for the ruse)
And then they pull back, both flushed and lightheaded (And Nemo looking more than a little smug) “Right…” Gerry waits for his brain to catch up, “Let’s go… Need to go burn this,” 
. And then he feels that warmth from deep in his core that’s becoming a regular feature and-
Suddenly they’re bathed in light. Too bright, and if his eyes weren’t shut right now he’d be wincing from.. And Gerry’s not so lost in Nemo’s attentions to totally forget where they are and how this ruse might not… 
“Bloody students!” 
Comes a brusque mutter before the footsteps pick up again. Whoever that is probably deciding it’s not worth the paperwork and the late night phonecalls. 
And they probably could stop kissing the moment the door shuts and the steps trail out of earshot. 
But they don’t. It carries on
. But they don’t, it carries on for longer than necessary to maintain the ruse (They could come back, better safe than sorry right?) before they both pull back more than a little lightheaded. (And Nemo looking more than a little smu
“Uh… let’s go,” Gerry manages after a long moment. “Need to burn this,” 
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fissions-chips · 1 year
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Decided to do some lowkey scribbling tonight after a stressful day, so I worked on some concept art for the Tiny Fairy AU- since Tim would be a permanent resident of Butler’s cottage eventually, he’d need a more long-term habitat than the one first described in the fic.
(Loosely inspired by songbird enclosures at the rehab center I work at)- basically, a mesh-walled wooden frame with a comfy little hide box (probably full of stolen trinkets), soft towels and fleece as substrate, and lots of sticks and branches for Tim to climb around on since he’s nonflighted- probably a lot more than I’ve depicted here, but again, lowkey.
- For the sake of general comfort and in case of a bad day pain-wise, his box partially sits on a heating pad that’s on for most of the day.
- Probably would be about 80% covered by a sheet or towel most of the time, since Tim likes to hide a lot.
- Yes, there would be a door with a latch, no, Butler would probably not use it much. He’s already fairy-proofed 90% of his house, Tim can (usually) go where he wants. (Actually, now I’m thinking about him making tiny little ladders and ramps for Tim to get around…)
(Closeup of the little guy below)
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A little messy but in my defense I still don’t know how I want them to look entirely yet. But- little guy.
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jackharloww · 2 years
Text
“We got a little carried away”
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Jack was coming home tonight. Unfortunately, he would be arriving in the middle of the night, making it hard for you and Grace to stay up to wait for him. But that did not mean you wouldn’t give him a warm welcome. Grace painted a picture for him, and you wrote him a note from both of you. You placed the painting and the note next to the big flowers you got him on the table in the foyer. You and Grace got ready for bed, and the both of you got cuddled up in your bed for the night.
“Are you excited to see daddy tomorrow?” You asked Grace as you played with her messy curls.
“yes, mommy,” she mumbled before snuggling up closer in your arms, ready to fall asleep. Just seconds after, you could hear her small snores. You, on the other hand, wanted to wait up for Jack. But sleep got the best of you, and an hour later, you had fallen asleep.
Jack opened the door carefully, aware his two girls were deep asleep. He put his bags next to the table and saw the big bouquet. He walked up to it and looked at Grace’s little scribbles before picking up the note you had written.
Welcome home Daddy! Thank you for coming back home to us. We love you.
Jack smiled, feeling grateful for both of his girls. He went to the bedroom and gently opened the door to see you and Grace cuddled under the covers. He walked up to you and placed two gentle kisses on your heads. After a quick shower, he slipped under the covers, careful not to wake you up, and drifted to sleep next to his favorite girls.
Grace woke up quite early, excited that her daddy was lying beside her. You had to quickly silence her and take her out of the room not to wake him up.
“We can play with Daddy when he wakes up, love,” you say to her as you make breakfast for the two of you. Jack's parents were coming for lunch later today, so you wanted Jack to sleep a bit longer so that he would be well-rested. After breakfast, you decided to shower Grace so she would be ready for the day.
“Mommy, can we make cookies?” Grace asked while you were combing her hair. Maggie said she would bring lunch with her, so you had nothing to do until that. So, baking cookies sounded like a lovely idea.
“Sure, baby,” you answered Grace, making her giggle and jump up and down in excitement.
You and Grace decided to make chocolate chip cookies, Grace and Jack's favorite cookies. You took out all the ingredients and put Grace up on the countertop. A lot of giggles and laughter could be heard from the kitchen as you two started with the baking.
Jack woke up with a big smile on his face. He loved waking up to the sound of his girls. He walked up to the kitchen, very excited to see you both.
“Daddyyyy” Grace exclaimed as soon as she saw Jack standing there, throwing her hands up in the air.  
“Hellooo, my little Gracie girl” Jack walked up to the counter and picked her up, giving her multiple kisses on her cheek. He had really missed his little girl. After a few seconds, he put her back on the countertop and returned to look at you.
“Good morning ma’, missed you” He kissed you and hugged you tight.
“Missed you too, baby,” you mumbled against his lips.
“Daddy, we are making cookies,” Grace said very proudly, showing Jack what the two of you were doing.
“I can see that, baby. Can I help?” He asked, making Grace nod her head vigorously.
“Let me just run to the bathroom quick, keep an eye on her,” You said, kissing Jack on his cheek before walking out of the kitchen.
On your way back to the kitchen, you heard a little too much noise coming from the kitchen. You walked in and saw Grace’s face covered in cookie dough, The bag of flour that was once next to Grace was now in her lap as she took a handful to throw at her father.
“I left you two for not even five minutes. What happened here?” You said sternly as you placed your hand on your hips and stared at them in disbelief.
“We got a little carried away” Jack laughed and high-fived Grace
“Jack, I showered her this morning, and I’m not going to clean this up,” You said, lifting your hands in the air, slightly irritated with the mess.
”I'm sorry ma’ I didn’t mean for it to get this messy,” Jack said and came closer to you, a hand behind his back. And before you could even react, he smeared cookie dough on your cheek, laughing at your shocked face. You gasped, grabbed some flour from the countertop, and threw it at him, making Grace break into a fit of laughter, the two of you following along.
After Jack cleaned the mess up and gave Grace another shower, you managed to put one batch of cookies in the oven for later.
“Don’t forget to turn the cookies. You know, “the Atlas way” that you told me about,” Jack comes into the kitchen and says playfully, giving me a wink.
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girasollake · 2 years
Text
bothering me | e.m.
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gif not mine, got it from pinterest
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pairing: eddie munson x reader (using ‘you’)
requested: yes
type: angst, pure angst
summary: eddie starts being distant from the reader, when you finally confront him, he explodes and tells you it’s because you’re too clingy
warnings: curse words, idk kinda toxic relationship vibes? 
a/n: i’m trying to stop using pronouns she/her and they/them in my works and just putting ‘you’ cause it’s suitable for every person, i hope you guys will like it!
word count: 1,127
‘Sooo… movies at my place tonight?’ You whispered into Eddie’s ear when you had finally found him next to his locker.
‘Sorry, I’m busy.’
‘With what?’
‘Stuff, (Y/n). I don’t have to tell you everything all the time.’
‘I know but I’m your partner and I thought that being in a relationship means telling each other what we’re doing.’ You looked down at your shoes. ‘Especially when we want to avoid a date.’ You mumbled quietly enough so he wouldn’t hear it.
‘I just can’t tonight. Maybe some other day, okay?’ He asked and turned his head towards you.
‘Yeah sure.’ A forced smile appeared on your lips.
You turned around to look at the school clock on the other side of the corridor.
‘The class starts soon, can you at least give me-‘ You turned to Eddie again but he wasn’t there anymore.’…a kiss..’
You sighed and started walking towards your classroom.
Did I do something?
Maybe he’s cheating on me?
Am I not good enough?
Every possibility for his behaviour circled in your head but the one that caused it. You were sitting in your desk, listening to the boring lecture about reptiles, with your pen scribbling some shapes on the back of your notebook. You started thinking about Eddie and without much thought you drew his portrait on another blank page. Smiling to yourself you signed it ‘for my pretty boy x’ and decided to throw it into his locker when the next break approached.
You were proud of that piece and thought that maybe it’ll show Eddie how much you think of him and he won’t be such a dick anymore. Because let’s be honest, leaving you alone at his locker without saying goodbye was rude, at least to you. When you threw your drawing into his locker you thought that maybe after he sees it he will come running to you, apologizing for being so distant. But he didn’t. You didn’t see him that day anymore and you came home in hopes of him calling and guess what? He didn’t call.
For the course of next week you’ve been trying your best to get his attention in every possible way. And every time he just brushed you off like you were nothing, he didn’t even mention anything about your drawing. After he hadn’t even looked at you on Friday you decided it was enough. So you stormed to his house as soon as you had finished your classes. Your fists were quickly hitting the door of his trailer. After a few seconds Eddie opened them for you.
‘What are you doing here?’ He asked confused.
‘I wanted to talk to you, can we do that?’
‘Sure.’ He mumbled and signals for you to come in.
‘What do you want to talk about?’ He sat down on his bed while he was looking at you intensely.
‘Your behaviour.’
‘What’s wrong with it?’ He huffed.
‘You’re distant.’
‘You’re imagining things, (Y/n).’ He chuckled and readjusted his sitting position.
‘Eddie, you’ve been avoiding me for the last week all the fucking time. I am definitely not imagining things. Especially after today, have you noticed you haven’t even looked at me today?’ Tears were filling up your eyes.
‘That’s bullshit, I am not avoiding you.’
‘But you are!’ You stepped closer to him. ‘Why? Do you have someone else?’
‘No, (Y/n/n). You know I don’t.’ He mumbled and closed his eyes.
‘They why are you doing this? Why are you behaving this way? Do you have problems at school?’
‘I don’t.’
‘Eddie for fucks sake, then why are you so-‘
‘Because of you!’ He stood up and faced you. ‘You are all over me, all the fucking time. And I know it’s a good thing but it’s bothering me. It’s bothering me a lot. It’s like you don’t have any friends beside me, you don’t even let me breathe (Y/n)! Wherever I go, you’re there. Whenever I have some quiet and peace, you show up!’
‘Isn’t that the point of a relationship?’ You sobbed.
‘No! Not when I can’t do shit without you! Not when you’re touching me all the time and breathing down my neck!’ He turned around and sat down on the bed again.
You were standing there in shock, scared to say something back to him. You didn’t think your love language could bother him. You showed your love through touch and through quality time, what was so wrong with it? And Eddie never complained, he always had told you how nice your cuddles were, how he loved holding your hand. Maybe it just became too much for him at one point? You wanted to tell him you’ll take things slowly and you won’t push. You still loved him and wanted to comfort him, make him feel better. You carefully sat down next to him, his hands were holding his hair on either side and he was looking down at his boots. You slowly put your arm around him in hopes to give him a loving hug and show him how much you care and that his outburst didn’t change anything. You thought he would accept your touch but you were wrong. He quickly pushed your hand away and looked straight into your eyes.
‘What have I just said?’ He snapped.
You looked down at your shoes feeling like a scolded puppy and then scooted over to the other side of the bed. You were both sitting in silence for what felt like eternity and when you finally stopped thinking about the argument you had, you stood up and walked over to his desk. You took a piece of paper and a pen and started writing your message. You thought it was the best way to tell him something without him getting even more mad at you, you didn’t want to risk saying something wrong. When you finished the note you made your way outside of his trailer and back to your home.
Meanwhile Eddie was still sitting on his bed, thinking if he did the right thing. He didn’t want to lose you, of course, but this was just too much and he exploded. He looked at his desk and stood up to see the note. He took it and small tears fell from his eyes.
I’m sorry Eddie,
I know that you probably hate me right now and I’m sorry that my actions made you angry. I didn’t know that all of this could bother you and I want you to help me understand, when you���re ready that is. Just call me or come over and we can talk this out in peace and even if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I’ll understand. I’m sorry again.
Love, (Y/n)
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support me - comment &/or reblog!! thank u🫶🏼
taglist: @r93339 @stvrdustalexx @cursedandromedablack @ccosmic-illusion @luvwanda @justice4lils @heizenka @wolfstarsimpxx @miss-bloodbath @screambih @lyntic @freeshavocadoooo  @naturalswifty89 @bvmbshell @alainabooks143 @squidwardsluverxx @phantomxoxo @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @stilesks @ilovedilfs32 @kaitlin-r130 @greengarsstuff @axen-gers @088i880 @ilovefictionalbrunettes @ofherscarlettwitchways @bookfrog242 @imhereforoscarisaac @hawkins-hs
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jakekiszska · 2 years
Text
playdate
pairing: eddie munson x female!reader
warnings: explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, spitting, p in v intercourse, tiny bit of a master kink if you squint, spanking, praise kink. (reader and eddie are both 18+).
a/n: pls cut me some slack as a d&d 5e player. i tried my best to write as accurately to 1e & 2e as i could. :)
summary: you finally joined hellfire after months of your best friends begging… but you can’t keep your eyes off him the entire time.
if u see an error no u don’t. :)
word count: 2.9k
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“shirt looks good on you.” eddie comments, winking as he passes you in the school hallway.
“thanks, perv.” you joke back, giving him a smirk. he blows you a quick kiss before facing the correct direction and walking down the hallway. you made the decision last week to start playing dungeons and dragons with eddie and his friends, so of course today you had to don your t-shirt.
you entered your final class and sat down, hardly able to focus. who really needed math anyway, right? you stared at the white board as the teacher lectured and wrote formulae down. you couldn’t stay focused, so you let your mind wander.
thinking of it, you probably did need math, especially for your dungeons and dragons game… you’d need to add or subtract your modifiers from your rolls, or add to your attacks… so maybe you’d better pay attention.
your teacher’s monotonous voice was hard to focus on, especially since she never faced the class. you took out your notebook and started scribbling tiny doodles in the corner of the page. a few ideas came to you for playing your character today, so you tried to jot them down as discreetly as you could, passing them off as notes.
you thanked all the deities you knew when the bell finally rang. you met eddie in the parking lot, standing by his van. he was chatting with his friend gareth, but quickly turned his attention to you as you approached.
“ready to go?” he asks, looking you up and down. you nod a quick yes and hop into the passenger seat of his van, throwing your stuff to the floorboard. the drive to your house was quick, but eddie stalled you before you could exit the van and head inside.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, looking over at you with a concerned look. normally you would’ve talked his ear off the whole ride over. you try to assure him that you’re fine.
“hey listen, y/n… you’ve been my best friend for like, i don’t know, six? eight years? i know when something is wrong. spill it.”
you finally turn your head and look at him. “i’m nervous to play tonight. what if i look stupid?”
“babe,” he says affectionately, making your stomach lurch, “we’re a bunch of dudes in high school playing a fantasy table-top roleplay. you’re definitely gonna look weird.” he says casually, a playful tone to his voice. you can’t help but laugh. “it’s gonna be okay. i’ll wait to bring your character into the game that way you can see how everyone else plays, okay?” he asks you, his tone comforting.
“okay, eds. okay. that works.” you say, running your hands down your jeans. you open the van door and hop out, strolling over to your porch. when your feet hit the bottom step, you hear eddie call after you. “pick ya up at 6:40!” he screeches, and then you hear the tires of his van screech too as he backs out of your driveway and drives away maniacally.
you grab yourself a snack from the kitchen once you make it inside, a few strawberries your mom had left over from some cake she decorated.
you take them up to your room and set the plate on your bedside table before grabbing out your books and starting on your homework. stupid math.
you work through as many problems as you can before you can feel your eyelids starting to droop. you close your book and slide it back in your back before taking your plate of strawberry stems to the kitchen and dumping them. you quickly wash the plate and head back to your room, anxiously awaiting your evening.
for the remainder of the time you’re waiting for eddie you clean your room up and then decide to take a quick shower. you tie your hair up in a scrunchie to avoid wetting it and you quickly go through your routine. once you’re out you decide instead of wearing your jeans again that you’ll slip on a black skirt that sits just above your knee, and your hellfire shirt.
finally, 6:40 approaches, and just as he promised eddie is in your driveway at that exact moment. you grab your notebook and a pen along with the dice set he gave you and run out to meet him.
you hop in the van and your nerves return, but you try to play it cool. you make it to the school and you’re let in by some of the faculty who have to facilitate after school gatherings, but eddie assures you none of them ever sit in on the sessions.
he gets all of his stuff laid out and puts up his dm screen before sitting down on this throne-like chair. you try not to stare at him, but the way he’s sitting so relaxedly with his legs spread open is making you squirm.
you’d always thought eddie was attractive, but something about him being in his element like this was really tempting to you, and you figured that’s why you were so nervous to play.
all of his friends start pouring into the room and taking their places and eddie has to quiet them down a few times before he can begin.
“y/n won’t be playing immediately, but if you don’t mind would you tell us your characters race and class please?” he asks you, his tone a lot softer than what he uses for the boys.
“um, my character is a hobbit and my class is cleric.” you say nervously, staring at the table.
“a hobbit, huh?” eddie teases. “that’s accurate.”
you can hear his friends dustin and mike laughing insanely loud at his jest. “shove it, henderson.” you say, finally scanning the room. “you’re about 4’6, yeah?” you joke.
the rest of the room laughs at your joke and after a minute more of teasing you get right into the game. eddie was able to work your character in as someone the party met at some stables, and they figured they’d need your spellcasting abilities to help them in battle.
the session goes on for a while and you’re really having a lot of fun, but you can’t take your eyes off of eddie. his facial expressions, his tone of voice, all the gestures he makes towards the party. he’s so immersed and it’s driving you a little crazy. seeing him so passionate is nothing less than hot to you.
it’s time to wrap the game up and you’re just finishing your battle when it’s dustin’s turn to roll for attack. he just makes it and the room erupts, cheering that he finally slayed the beast you’d been fighting.
“congratulations, henderson. describe the killing blow.” eddie beams. dustin goes on to describe some disgustingly gruesome scene and you continue to stare at eddie until he catches your eye, to which you finally look away. when dustin is done talking everyone clears out, leaving you and eddie alone to pick up so he can take you home.
“you did so well tonight! i was so proud of you!” he beams, reaching out to ruffle your hair. his praise makes your body stiffen.
“something wrong?” he asks, walking up behind you and placing his chin on your shoulder. you’re not sure if you can make words but you try to force them out anyway. “um, no eds. i-i’m fine!” you manage, shuffling away from him. his hand catches your hip and spins you around to face him.
“really? you seemed to be staring at me the whole game. have i upset you?” he ponders, leaning in so his breath fans your face. it smells slightly smoky and slightly like mint, and you’re dizzy for a moment.
you assure him he hadn’t, and once again you try to move away, but his grip tightens. “well, i’m really proud of you.” he reiterates, watching you squirm under his gaze. you can almost feel your cheeks flush and your pupils dilate.
he leans in even closer, speaking into your ear. “do you like when i tell you how good you are?” he asks, his voice a bit lower, a tinge raspier.
“oh fuck off, eddie.” you choke out, pushing a hand against his chest.
“is that any way to talk to your dungeon master?”
he pulls away from your face slightly and tilts up your chin with his pointer finger. “my apologies master,” you tease sarcastically, “forgive me?”
this time it’s your turn to taunt him, so you push your hand up his chest and wrap it around the back of his throat, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. he takes a step closer to you and you shudder when you realize just how close he is to you.
“that’s a pretty little skirt you have on.” he whispers. your whole body shudders. “eddie..” you whine, tugging at his hair lightly.
“hmmm.. what is it baby?” he leans in so your noses are touching. “please eddie, kiss me.” you beg, your voice an octave higher than usual. he places his left hand on your other hip before finally closing the gap between your lips.
you aren’t expecting his lips to be so soft. you also aren’t expecting to feel so drunk off his kiss immediately. it’s experimental, but it quickens. he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip and you part your lips for him. he slides his tongue into your mouth and he moans as he feels you suck on it gently.
his hands have made their way around your backside and he slips one past your skirt, keeping it still until he can gauge your reaction. when you don’t stop him, he grabs a handful of your ass before lifting you up and placing you on the nearby table. you whine into his kiss and he presses himself between your legs.
you kiss each other hungrily for what feels like hours until you finally pull away. “hey, let’s get outta here.” you propose, and he nods, moving away so you can grab all of his stuff. his expression takes on that of a lost puppy.
you grab him by the arm and he looks over at you, so you reassure him. “eds, i didn’t wanna stop… i just don’t really wanna fuck in the school after hours.”
“f-fuck,” he stammers, “you wanna.. we’re gonna.. oh my god we’re gonna fuck?”
you shake your head yes at him. “if you want to… let’s go back to your place?” you ask. “hell yeah. hell yes we are going to my place!” he says ecstatically. you grab up all of his stuff and practically race out to his van. he gets you back to his uncle's place in record time and you go in quickly, headed for his room.
once you’re in you waste no time in reconnecting your lips to his. he disconnects to pull his shirt over his head and you moan when you can see all of his tattoos. you lightly scrape your nails over them before reaching behind you and unzipping your skirt, letting it fall to the floor.
“cute panties.” he says smugly, and you slap his arm. you made sure to wear one of your favorite pairs, baby blue and cotton with a pink heart on the front. he sits back on his bed against the headboard and you crawl into his lap, leaning down to kiss his neck. his hands find your hips and he moans as you lick a stripe just below his ear, biting it seconds after.
“kiss me again.” he says, his raspy tone going straight to your core. you connect your lips with his and soon after your tongues are meeting, sliding against each other as you makeout hungrily. your hips start grinding involuntarily but he uses his grip on your hips to help you. you can feel your cheeks flush.
“no need to be embarrassed baby,” he says, almost reading your mind, “if it feels good, then do it. feel how hard i am?”
and you could. you could tell he was straining as you continued to grind your now soaked panties across his lap. after a few more minutes you’re mewling and whining loudly, then you finally beg him to touch you.
“what do you want?” he asks lowly, hands palming at your ass. “want you to touch me, eddie. please.” you whine, arching into him. he slides you off his lap and pushes you down onto the bed so that your back is arched, in a face down ass up position.
“okay, princess,” he teases, rubbing your left thigh softly, “but first you need a punishment for how you talked to me earlier. remember that?”
you let out a deep whine as you feel him grab your panties and rip them down your legs. you clench as you feel the cool air hit your core. “just one, okay? that’s all.” he says, massaging your ass. a second later his hand is gone, and is quickly replaced again with a loud crack. you could feel the cool metal of his rings stinging against your ass sharply. seconds later he leans in to kiss the spot, a gesture to make sure you’re okay.
when he can tell you’re fine he rolls you over onto your back and slides your panties off your legs completely, tossing them to the floor. he pushes your thighs apart and stares down at you, fully exposed for him.
“fuck.” he groans, taking all of you in. “you have the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen.”
you blush at his comment and throw your arm over your face to hide it. you feel him run two fingers along your slit to gather some of your slick before dipping them into you. he leans down and spits on your clit before his thumb from his other hand rubs tight circles into it. your back arches and you begin to work your hips in time with his hands.
“fuck yeah, baby. fuck yourself on my hands. that’s my good girl.”
my good girl. you shudder again.
“eddie, i’m close!” you warn, his fingers curling inside of you and working your g-spot deliciously. “come on then, lemme see that little pussy cum for me.” he commands, and you’re teetering over the edge. it’d been a while since you came that hard, and eddie wears a proud smirk as he watches your legs shake with aftershocks.
he stands from the bed and you look him up and down, eagerly watching as he unclasps the handcuffs on his belt. his zipper is down soon after and then he’s shuffling out of his jeans, not leaving you much to the imagination. your mouth waters as you see the outline in his briefs - and he is big.
you didn’t notice your mouth hanging open. he sheds his underwear before crawling over you and you admire how tidy his pubic hair is kept… and then you wonder if that’s weird. you won’t say anything.
he positions himself between your legs and leans down to kiss your neck, whispering to you teasingly. “what’s wrong, worried it won’t fit?”
“i don’t care. i want it.” you assure him, and he slides his tip through your folds quickly before pressing his cock inside of you finally. you take it slowly, inch by inch, until he’s bottomed out.
tears prick at the corners of your eyes because of the stretch, but he wipes them away sweetly. “it’s okay, we’re gonna take our time.” he promises, and you lightly tug at his hair. “you can move, please move.”
he pulls his hips back slowly before rutting into you again, working at a slow but delicious pace. “fuck eds, that f-feels so fucking good.” you whine, your hands still tugging at his hair. each time you pull on his hair it spurs him to go faster, and soon he’s pounding into you so hard that you barely recognize the voice coming from your throat.
his fingers dig into your hips and you know the indentions from his rings will leave bruises for you to admire for days. he’s letting out soft moans above you and if he hadn’t been speaking to you so filthy this entire time they’d almost warm your heart.
“i’m not gonna last.” he warns you, his hips snapping into yours quickly. you reach your hand down between your bodies and start to rub your clit, to which he lets out a filthy whine.
“cum for me, baby. let me feel it. cum for me again.” he coaxes, his breathing laboured. a few seconds later you feel the band snap again and your body arches upward as your second orgasm hits you, the sensation washing over you and making you lose vision for a second.
seconds later he pulls out and finishes himself off in his hand.
“holy shit. you’ve been keeping that from me?” he laughs, wiping his hand with some article of clothing he found on the floor. “you could’ve had it if you’d asked.” you tell him, being completely honest.
he walks back over to you and leans down to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. when he pulls back a playful smirk tugs at his lips. “well in that case, do you wanna fuck?”
you grab a pillow from his bed and smack him with it before he lunges at you, pressing kisses into your neck and softly tickling your sides. “i think i really like this, eds.”
“me too.” he assures you, laying down and pulling you onto his chest.
tags: @alwayzthere @strangersingold @garbagevanfleet @harmonyhous @obetrolncocktails (message me to be added!)
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