#anyways i cut my hair in the middle of that and a few days later he just stopped coming to school...not saying they are related...but

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

i think i've finally come to understand why i'm so bad at communicating with friends 👍 at one point or another i've thought i was in love with every single person i've ever been friends with (for the most part, at least) because i don't expect other people to like me. OBVIOUSLY this is not true but platonic feelings are not dissimilar to romantic ones (baseline they're the same: you want to love and be loved by someone) but i always end up realizing that i'm not in love with them, just that they matter to me very much and i wouldn't know what do to w/o their presence in my life. BUT this brings me to facet number 2 of my awful communication skills: i hate it when things Get Real. i find myself retreating any time it seems like Something Could Change in my day-to-day life due to them being around and "forcing" the change. i run away from talking to one of my only irl friends on almost a daily basis bc i dread the idea of having to do anything she might want me to do. i think, at the end of the day, my problem might just be that i don't want to change... ANYWAYS

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟒 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara can’t find the dvd anywhere and gojo has a decision to make

wc. 4k

tags. fluff, angst (kinda), reader is described as fem, possibly ooc gojo (my bad), cliffhanger-ish, any spelling mistakes blame on my cats, possible plotholes

a/n. several things to address: firstly my description of dvds and how they work ARE SO FLAWED IK DON'T JUDGE. secondly, look I get how rct works so not everything I say is accurate but like this is also about 2d men so who's to judge. finally I'm not too sure about this chapter so if its shit lmk BUT I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE IT THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT <333 ily all but I do have upcoming exams so the ending(s), won't be posted till possibly early February as I have to get back to studying :(

previous part / final part / series masterlist

“guys we’ve lost it.” nobara pushed up her mattress, phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she peered beneath the wooden slats. all there was was her suitcase and a bag from an expensive shop she’d convinced gojo to buy for her. “it’s gone. poof. here once and now it’s not.” the ‘it’ in question being the dvd they’d treasured for the last few weeks (well, yuuji and nobara anyways).

after gojo had taken the dvd – unbeknownst to the first years – nobara had ended up sleeping for the next fourty eight hours, and then afterwards spending several days catching up on the classwork she’d missed. she hadn’t had the time or energy to force her classmates into another movie night so now here they were, almost a week since it was last touched, finally realising its disappearance.

“do you want me and megumi to come help?” yuuji asked tentatively as he heard her curse as she dropped the mattress back down. nobara sighed, glancing around at the chaos she’d created. her room was a mess – drawers half open and half her clothes and books on the floor in case the dvd had slipped into a pile by accident. 

“it’s not in my room,” she said adamantly, pushing her hair back from her face in frustration as she struggled to piece together the final moments she had with the dvd. she could remember sending megumi away, beginning her little day of research and even some of the videos she watched (the arcade and the christmas reunion), but then she fell asleep and everything was hazy from there.

“when was the last time you had it?” megumi asked and nobara felt her eye twitch like she hadn't retraced her steps a million times already.

“the first day i was off sick. i was watching a few–”

“without us?” the pink haired sorcerer cut in with a gasp.

“what else was there to do?” nobara argued back with no bite but he quietened down nonetheless. 

a moment of silence settled between the three as each tried to figure out where it could have been misplaced or who could’ve accidentally picked it up. if nobara had dropped it somewhere outside of her dorm, could one of the older years taken it?

nobara was brought out of deep thought by yuuji flippantly asking: “did you watch any after sensei came to see you?” she froze at the implication of his words. at no point could she recall their teacher ever coming in to check on her – it had always been either yuuji, megumi or maki. 

“what?” 

several hours later, the three first years found themselves huddled on the benches, nobara in the middle and the boys either side of her. in front of them were the second years and gojo – the latter having said something to annoy maki as yuuta held her back from making a swing at their laughing teacher. the second year teacher was off ill today so the larger class meant that the three had a distraction as they tried to figure out what their next step was – if they even had one at this point.

the assumed facts were as such: the first years were no longer in possession of the dvd, and gojo had it. though there was little doubt that this was true, it didn’t stop them questioning the possibility – after all, megumi had pointed out, there’d been no alter in his behaviour whatsoever since the minute he’d checked on nobara. surely, even the strongest would be noticeably affected by a disk that immortalised a happiness and innocence he’d never be able to return to.

but then again, maybe this was just another thing that separated gojo from the rest of society. being the strongest came before all else, he didn’t have the time to mourn resurfaced memories.

“maybe he just doesn’t have it,” yuuji suggested.

“he has to,” nobara reaffirmed. at this point they’d exhausted all other options about where it could possibly be and surely they would have heard if one of the older years found what they had. “would he tell you if he had it?” she asked megumi.

“no,” megumi said quickly, shaking his head and leaning back on the bench as he looked over at gojo, “we… he wouldn’t talk to me about that. about them.”

“could we steal it back?” yuuji offered and nobara debated duct taping his mouth closed.

megumi scoffed, shaking his head, “he has six eyes. even if we tried, he’d know for sure it was us.”

“he already knows it was us,” nobara countered, not that she agreed with yuuji’s solution by any means. “which is why i don’t get why he hasn’t said anyth–”

“oi, you three!” the first years jumped apart from their circle, hearts pounding as gojo appeared before them with a smirk toying at the corner of his lips and his hands clasped behind his back. “whoever beats maki in hand to hand combat gets the day off tomorrow!”

“yuuji if you win, i’m taking your day off,” nobara called out as she trailed behind the aforementioned boy running to the centre of the field. 

“okay!”

unsurprisingly, all three first years lost against the second year. megumi came closest to winning but when he tried to use his cursed technique, gojo countered it, catching him off guard and giving maki the opportunity to sweep him off his feet with her staff.

gojo found himself still laughing over megumi’s shocked expression as he fell flat on his back as he stepped past the threshold of his office. even after all he’d taught the boy in combat, with no cursed technique it was hard to overcome the zenin girl’s strength and skill she’d mastered to take on her own clan.

he let out a small sigh as the door locked shut and, for the first time that day, he was alone with his own thoughts.

dropping down into his office chair, gojo crossed one leg over the other as he pulled open a drawer. on the top of a pile of unread paperwork for the higher ups was the dvd the first years were so fixated on. 

he wasn’t stupid; he knew eventually they would figure out he had it and, unlike himself, they’d been way less subtle once they’d put two and two together. yuuji’s speech had tripled in speed, nobara was way too keen on being anywhere but where he was and megumi… gojo couldn’t forget the guilt and hurt in the teenage boy’s eyes after telling him you were gone. it was here again, had been for several weeks, and it was only after stumbling upon the disk in nobara’s room that he’d understood why.

gojo gritted his teeth together as he held the disk up between shaky fingers. it was pathetic, he scolded himself, it was just a bit of plastic with memories lasered into divots in a never ending spiral. it wasn’t worth the heartache.

if he looked closely enough, he could see shoko’s name written on the centrepiece in faded black sharpie. after gojo had stumbled upon the old camera several years after graduating from jujutsu high, shoko had taken back the camera to transfer all of the old clips onto dvds and given him, herself, nanami and you your own copies. he couldn’t even remember where his and yours were anymore, in fact he’d pretty much forgotten about their existence until a week ago.

he wasn’t sure where shoko had lost the dvd for the first years to get their hands on it but he hadn’t worked up the courage to speak to her about it. he hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything more than just spin the disk between his fingers, cry about it for a bit, and go back to pretending he didn’t have the last remnants of his youth in his drawer.

gojo glanced between the disk and the laptop on his desk. it was the last step he needed to take to hear your voice again. it had been on repeat for the last week in his mind; you uttering his name and that innocent question, would you last beyond your teenage years?

he missed it, missed you so bad.

raising megumi was a lot harder without you there; you were his favourite after all, bridging the gap between the two when they bumped heads with their contrasting personalities. gojo was all rainbows and giggles and megumi was everything but. you were a happy medium, creating a balance that maintained order in the home you shared. it was a peace that megumi deserved after losing his parents.

gojo clicked his tongue, reaching across to press a button that opened up a space for the disk. slotting it in place, he clicked the device shut and held his breath as he waited. it took several seconds for the files to load and then there he was again, back in those fields under the large weeping willow that was your spot.

the video was paused, exactly where it had been left, except this time gojo could actually see the screen.

your face wasn’t in it, just his. his glasses were off – balanced on your head if he remembered correctly – as he used your lap as a pillow. one of your hands was holding the camera while the other was held over his eyes to block any sort of light. the only thing he could make out was your cursed energy.

you were nearing the end of your first year and whilst gojo was growing more powerful, he was also growing more and more reliant on his glasses to stop himself from becoming so overwhelmed with the constant information he received with his six eyes. he’d overworked himself that day, as he so often did, hence why you’d dragged him away from the school to the seclusion of the tree. 

your questions about the longevity of your relationship weren’t meant to hold deep meaning, you just wanted to take his mind off of the headaches. gojo would choose thinking about you over the searing pain in the back of his head any day. yaga said that once he had a better understanding of his reversed curse technique it wouldn’t be so bad but until then it was just about riding it out.

gojo snorted at the notion. his reversed curse technique only marginally helped. you were what got him through the days when he’d lock himself in his bedroom with blackout blinds pulled down, hiding under his covers till he felt like he could function in society again.

he didn’t unpause the video, however, instead clicking onto the main tab with all of the files stored. 

lifting up his blindfold and dropping it down onto the desk, gojo took a deep breath before he began scrolling. unlike when the first years were simply searching for the ones with their favourite thumbnail, gojo was specifically searching for the ones he knew focused on you.

he needed to hear your voice again, to play it on repeat until it became so ingrained into his skin he could feel your touch.

gojo halted the cursor over the familiar date of your birthday, clicking on it without a second thought as the video filled the screen. it buffered for a moment, giving him a view of the dorm he’d practically spent three years in (despite yaga’s constant complaints and reminders that dorms were segregated on gender).

in the corner of your room was a stack of plushies that he’d won for you at arcades, and your walls were covered in photobooth photos and polaroids of your group of friends. his personal favourite was the polaroid you had pinned just above your desk. it was the two of you on new years eve sharing your first kiss of the year, sparklers in hand and the faint pink of a firework in the background. on the bottom of the polaroid was haibara’s handwriting as he’d scribbled on the date and a small smiley face.

“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!” seventeen year old gojo sung in the video, swaying the camera side to side above a pile of duvet and pillows. you were somewhere in the middle, half asleep and trying to push yourself deeper into the comfort of your bed and further from whatever the screeching was in your room.

you’d never been a morning person whereas he, on the other hand, had a reserve of energy that never depleted. it was what made getting up at the crack of dawn on your birthday so much more entertaining for him. even as an adult, when the two of you lived together in the comfort of your own apartment, he would either force you to stay up until midnight or gently nudge you awake at 4am to tell you he loved you.

“satoru,” you whispered groggily when you gave up trying to ignore his awful singing, lifting your head up just enough to meet his eyes. he would have done anything to see you physically before him instead of watching you through the lens of a camera. to be looked at with love as you did and not a mix of fear and respect. “if yaga catches you–”

“i’m just singing happy birthday to my girl,” his younger self dismissed, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he preferred your bed over his, a softer mattress he used to argue when shoko would complain about him showing up at your shared dorm several nights in a row. that particular birthday, he was pretty sure she’d been sent on a training mission over in kyoto. gojo’s hand came into frame as he ran a gentle hand through your hair, giving it a little pat when you quietly hummed at the contact. “he can’t hate on me for that.”

“yes he can,” you retorted, rolling your eyes with a tired smile. gojo felt his chest tighten – two years without waking up by that very same smile after almost a decade of having it everyday.

“i’ll blame shoko,” gojo shrugged with a grin, kicking his legs up onto your bed, despite your small protest that he was taking up all of your space. like you weren’t just as clingy as he was.

you huffed out a quiet laugh, your elbow digging into your pillow as you rested your head in your hand to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. “shoko forced the strongest sorcerer of the modern day to enter the girls’ dorms? uh huh.”

“woah woah, i’m the strongest of all time baby, i don’t do second best,” he corrected, leaning down to give you a peck on the forehead. you scrunched your nose up at the contact, but even through the viewpoint of the camera, he can see how your eyes dropped down to his lips.

“i know you don’t,” you smiled and gojo dropped the camera down as he moved to give you your first real kiss of seventeen. present day gojo sucked in a breath, willing for himself to get through at least one several minute video of you until he started crying.

the kiss ended all too quickly as gojo shoved the camera back into your face, the flash causing you to squint and squeeze your eyes closed. “now smile and say cheese, you’re seventeen!”

“woo!” you cheered half heartedly, giving in to his infectious excitement. blowing the camera a tired kiss, you shuffled yourself back deep beneath your duvet. “now can i go back to sleep?”

“as long as i can stay.”

“fine,” you dragged out, though you both knew you wanted him to just as much. yaga be damned. the video ended several seconds later and an odd silence filled his office. 

he’d only ever watched several of these videos once or twice – back when he still had you to curl up into his side and reminisce with him and laugh at nanami’s old haircut. if he was being honest, he didn’t even remember he’d recorded that (though he was glad he did).

gojo was more confident this time when he scrolled, his hands no longer shaking as much as they had been as he smiled at the life he once had. a life with you and geto.

this time he stopped at a thumbnail with the three of you; gojo holding up the camera high as the three of you posed like it was a photo. it was at one of only a handful clan events you had attended together, with both you and geto as gojo’s plus ones. he and geto were in matching suits and you were in a floor length dress that he’d spent way too much money on (but you looked so pretty when you tried it on he couldn’t not get it for you).

“hi this is mtv,” you clapped your hands together, “and welcome to my crib.” his younger self waved his hands around in the background (geto was recording), showing off the spiralling architecture that cost more money than fathomable. 

gojo quietly laughed in his office. the politics of clans and these events were the last reason he’d ever chosen to attend them. seeing you all dressed up and running around buildings with a million rooms were right at the top. his favourite had to be when both the first years, shoko and utahime had also been in attendance, but after haibara’s death, hanging around with the clans that upheld the institution that killed their friend seemed distasteful.

“this is my in house art museum collection.” you led geto along one of the vast corridors, pointing into a room with dozens of framed canvases of art from all across the globe. “this is where i come in for inspiration and to truly just feel art you know?”

“i wasn’t aware you had skills beyond stickmen,” geto interjected and you raised both your middle fingers at him.

“art is subjective, di–”

“woah, i have standards to uphold here,” gojo cupped a hand over your mouth, stopping any expletive leaving you. you hummed in annoyance and the white haired sorcerer grinned, nodding his head over to a partially opened door. “we don’t need to argue when we have a whole cinema room to ourselves.” gojo remembered the stain of red lipstick you’d left on his hand when he let you go (you’d refused to kiss him all evening because of your makeup).

the cinema room was massive: rows and rows of sleek leather seats that looked out of place when compared to the aesthetic of the building. this was someone’s home, though it looked like anything but.

“this is my cinema room,” geto held onto the back of one of the chairs as he loosened his tie. he lowered his voice as he leant closer to the camera gojo was now holding. “we used to have two but daddy converted the smaller one into a sauna so now we only have this one,” he said with an upturned nose, and you could be heard giggling in the background at his faux disgust.

you nor geto were from the same wealthy background as gojo was and loved to poke fun at his high status background.

“oi!” an official that was supposed to be watching for any curses or curse users that tried to sneak into the event pointed a light into the cinema room. “you kids shouldn’t be back here!”

gojo laughed, throwing the camera to geto as he grabbed your hand and led you quickly down the stairs to another exit at the bottom of the stairs. geto turned off the recording once he’d grabbed a hold of the device in favour of focusing on not being caught. it wasn’t like there would be any real consequence – they were with gojo satoru after all.

the white hair sorcerer smiled as he thought back to the rest of the night. obviously, you’d all managed to get away – though he had suffered your wrath at the fact your legs weren’t as long as their’s were and you were running in heels. two strikes, but he’d made it up to you by taking you out for ice cream instead of going back to hear the speeches.

it wasn’t an exaggeration to say gojo would have done anything for you then. 

gojo swallowed a lump in his throat as your last interaction came to mind. you were arguing, as you had been in the weeks up until megumi’s birthday as he inched closer and closer to being old enough to enrol in jujutsu high.

the only wish he’d ever refused to fulfil: keeping megumi away from jujutsu.

“he’s our responsibility.” you were yelling at him, desperate for him to understand your point of view and he was walking away. dodging your anger by going wherever his legs took him – anywhere but where you were. “we need to protect him. we can’t protect him if he becomes a sorcerer too.” 

“i can,” he insisted, halting in his place to turn and look down at you. his cursed technique was activated, though there was no need for it to be, and all it did was frustrate you further.

“i nearly died today!” you countered, pointing to your neck with a faint scar. shoko’s reversed cursed technique was almost perfect, but not even that could fully erase the deep lacerations that had almost taken your life. “where were you? you can’t be everywhere and help everyone at the same time. it’s just not possible.”

“i can try.” his jaw was tight as he responded through gritted teeth.

“and if that’s not enough?” you didn’t need to see his eyes to know his were locked directly onto yours, daring you to continue. he wouldn’t hurt you, would never dream of it, angry or not, but how could you of all people doubt him? “what then gojo satoru?” you uttered his full name like it was an insult, “you may be the strongest but he’s not. i’m not. we’re mortals compared to you.”

“you’re my family,” his voice broke.

“yu and suguru were family once too.”

gojo clenched his fists at the memory, at the reminder he walked out after that. you were trying to get him to see your concerns, and he’d taken that as you blaming him for the outcome of your close friends. that was the last time he ever saw you; tears welling up in the corner of your eyes at his insensitivity, at his inability to admit that maybe, just maybe, he too was just a mortal. 

everything you said was logical and made sense – he had almost lost you that day, having not initially received the message that you had needed backup as he was preoccupied with his own mission. by the time he had arrived, the curse had its claws dug deep into your skin and it had taken everything in him not to use hollow purple and bring the entire infrastructure down in seconds.

despite all he’d done to save you that day, he’d still lost you. he’d only delayed the seemingly inevitable by mere hours.

megumi sat up in bed at the sound of two knocks on the door. he highly doubted it would be yuuji since the pink haired sorcerer had only left several minutes prior, saying something about needing to meet panda. 

to his surprise, gojo stood before him, hands in the pockets of his pants as he half smiled at the younger boy. 

“is itadori here?” megumi hesitated before shaking his head. “good,” gojo held up the missing dvd, “we need to talk.”

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if ive missed anyone im so sorry send me a little reminder &lt;3

[johanna-swann]

Fic idea where Christopher wants a new haircut because "I'm starting middle school now, I should look the part!". So he gets a cut relatively similar to Eddie's (short on the sides, a little longer on the top) though it looks different on him because Christopher's hair is much lighter and even with the shorter hair he still has some curls. At first Eddie's totally caught up in the "holy shit, my son is starting middle school and is almost a teenager where did the time go?" spiral.

A few days later he's helping Hen and Chim wrap up a medical call just at the end of shift. It takes a little longer than expected, so Carla drops Chris of at the station with Buck. When the ambulance crew gets back to the station they find Buck and Christopher at the table, brooding over a science project or something and Chimney just starts laughing. The two look up and the confused/mildly irritated look on their faces is exactly the same which just makes Chim laugh harder and even Hen joins in.

And Eddie is just floored with the image. Buck has already showered and Chris doesn't style his hair anyway and apparently Chris has knowing or unknowingly adopted some of Buck's facial cues at some point and they have the same eye colour too. He gets why Hen and Chimney find this amusing, but Eddie can only stare because holy shit. Isn't this something.

[ghost-proofbaby]

up in flames (steddie x fem!reader)

→ summary: when steve and eddie don't pay you enough attention one morning, you decide that today's a good day to be a brat.

→ warnings: strong language, threesome, oral smut (both f! and m! receiving), face fucking, smut (good old fashioned p in v), dom!steve, dom!eddie, breeding kink, unprotected sex, spanking, name calling (brat, slut, etc), mean!steddie, hair-pulling, mentions of spitting, edging, lots and lots of teasing, voyeurism (public teasing), cream pies, use of 'sir', polaroids taken of mentioned cream pies, overuse of nicknames (y'all should know me by now) MINORS DNI. 18+.

→ wc: 9.4k+

→ a/n: oh jesus. okay. so, first of all, shout out to @myosotisa for encouraging this catastrophe. second of all, i am not completely positive that that entire paragraph covers everything so if you find i missed something, please tell me! fair warning that this is the filthiest thing i have ever written, the longest smut i've ever indulged in, and that i've never written threesome. it's also not edited. any mistakes are between y'all, steddie, reader, and god. not me. my apologies if this is bad. this was just... incredibly self indulgent lol.

You’d brought it upon yourself, really. 

It started that morning. You’d asked for ten more minutes with them, but they both had work and knew that ‘ten more minutes’ was never just ten minutes. So Steve got up and made breakfast, Eddie went to take a shower. You’d pouted like a child but nonetheless joined them at the table. 

And maybe it wasn’t all your fault, because Steve had made pancakes. That was his first mistake, and Eddie is the one who you attempt to make pay for it. 

Somewhere between morning softness fading and orange juice kisses, you’d gotten a swipe of syrup on your thumb. You play it up innocently at first, kitten-licking the sticky sweetness on your skin.  Both Eddie and Steve had ignored any gentle kicks of your sock clad foot, not a single reaction when you’d press your toes into their calves beneath the table in a silent plea of pay attention to me, please. Neither man pays any mind to you, too engrossed in discussing what movie they might want to watch after work later that night, you take it a step further, letting your lips wrap around your entire thumb. Steve takes another bite of pancake, but he’s none-the-wiser. Fine. It was fine, because Eddie was the one sitting directly across from you, so you focused your efforts on him. 

He always broke easier than Steve anyways. 

Your toes press into his calf again, more harshly this time. 

“I’m not watching fucking Empire Strikes Back again Ste-” he cuts off midsentence at your prodding, fork in the middle of digging into his pancakes. Steve was too busy gathering both yours and his dirty plates to notice. 

Once Eddie’s eyes are on your mouth, you up the ante. The pad of your thumb presses down on your tongue as you slip your lips past the knuckle, hollowing your cheeks as you suck hard on your appendix before you slowly drag it out and make a point of tugging down on your bottom lip. You witness his pupil dilating in real time, entranced as your foot begins to trail higher up his leg. His chest heaves, and you know he’s recalling the moment from a few nights before, when you’d given him the same half-lidded eyes as the tip of him had hit the back of your throat and you gagged around him, teary eyed but eager to please him. 

The clashing of dishes being set into the sink seems to break whatever spell you nearly had him under, just as your foot reaches his thigh. 

He smacks your foot away, blinking quickly before a cruel grin takes over his face, “Cute.” 

“What was that?” Steve calls from the kitchen, completely oblivious to the stare down currently occurring in your dining room. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows, daring you to say something as you scowl, sitting up straight once more at his rejection. 

“Nothin’!” he calls out, deliberately slow as he pushes his chair out and stands from the table, plate in hand. His steps are heavy as he rounds the table to where you sit with your arms crossed, eyes set forward, not bothering to spare him a glance. You were acting like a child, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. You were hot, you were bothered, and you were about to spend the day doomed to being riled up without reprieve.

As he passes you on his way to Steve and the kitchen, he leans down, voice low as he whispers into your ear, “Behave, sweetheart.” 

You nearly scoff, but won’t give him the satisfaction. 

Behave. As if you would do anything along those lines today. 

—

The next mistake is made when Steve accepts your offer to bring him lunch to Family Video during his shift. 

It was actually fairly empty for a Wednesday. When you enter the video store, there’s only one other customer perusing the aisles, Steve nowhere to be found as Robin greets you from the front counter. You send a small wave in her direction, lifting the bag you’d packed Steve’s lunch away into up as you passed her on your way to the backroom. 

You were still frustrated. Terribly so. The few hours the boys had been out of the apartment, you’d tried to soothe the ache. You even went as far as to bring out one of your neglected vibrators. But the batteries were worn and nearing their end, and you couldn’t find where the boys had stashed away the new ones, so you’d ended up a petulant mess in the center of the king bed. You’d all but kicked out your legs and thrown fists into the down comforter you’d settled into the center of when the toy’s buzzing finally faded to near-nothing just as you’d felt yourself teeter on the edge of release. 

It was at that moment you decided you would not be the only one suffering today. 

Steve isn’t in the backroom, or the bathroom you check. You give up calling out his name after the third time before finally setting the bag onto the employee’s table and venturing back out into the front of the store. Robin was no longer at the counter, at one of the endcaps helping the only other customer, completely occupied. 

That’s when you hear him, a muffled curse and sound of a few movies dropping in one of the back aisles. Your feet carry you towards the sound quickly, light on your feet as you sneak around a corner to find Steve glaring down at a stack of movies that had fallen off the shelves. 

“I don’t think your Jedi mind trick is working,” you quip to make your presence known to him, taking slow and calculated steps towards him, “‘Fraid those wrinkles make become permanent if you keep staring at them like that, my love.” 

Brown eyes flicker up to you, framed by dark lashes as the frown lines smooth out.

“Haha,” Steve deadpans as you stand in front of him, “Very funny.”

You keep up a demure act by pecking him on his lips in greeting, feeling the corners of his lips pull upwards.

“Oh, c’mon, you call that a hello kiss?” he whispers before he reaches out and settles an insistent hand on your waist, tugging you back in as he chases your lips with his own. His kiss is deeper, leaving more to be desired as it still remains fairly chaste. 

Just the simple capture of your bottom lip between his has your eyes fluttering shut, a sigh escaping you. 

You still make sure to pull away first, remembering the burn in your abdomen that had begun burning this morning, that had yet to be satiated, “Better?” 

“Much,” he grins, eyes glancing down at your outfit, his hand traveling from your waist to the hem of the short sundress, “This is cute.” 

Cute. The same demeaning word that Eddie had used on you that morning, the same dismissive tone as Steve rubs the thin fabric between his fingertips. 

You had deliberately worn one of Steve’s favorite dresses on you. You had deliberately forgotten a bra. 

You had deliberately gone without underwear. 

“Cute?” you hum, scrunching your eyebrows, “Last time I wore this dress, if I recall correctly, you called me downright sinful-”

You cut off when you see that flash in his eyes, the same dilation of pupils, the same sudden heavy breathing you had witnessed in Eddie that morning. He was clearly recalling the last time you’d worn the dress – the way he’d bent you over the bed before ripping off your lace number underneath that night, coming in you until you were leaking him across the mattress, the way he’d taken polaroids of your abused pussy to share with Eddie when he had returned from his weekend trip. 

Maybe Steve was just as easy to break as Eddie. 

“Don’t,” he softly warns, voice husk and low. The fingers playing with the hem of the dress let go of it immediately, knuckles brushing your bare thigh. 

“What?” you play it off nonchalantly, “I was just reminding you of-” 

“Baby,” he’s practically begging you now. Big, brown eyes pleading before he glances over your shoulder, trying to gauge how far away Robin and the customer were currently from the two of you. 

You bring your hand up to his chest, stepping forward and letting his hand now curl around the back of your thigh. You fiddle with the name tag on his work vest, “D’you think Eddie still has those photos? Maybe I should go home and take some new ones.” 

It’s the final straw. You’ve pushed him farther than you did Eddie this morning, and the hand once delicately gripping your thigh is now on your neck, gripping your jaw firmly as he leans down to breathe into your ear. 

“No, you shouldn’t,” his lips brush over the shell of your ear as your head begins to lull back, only making him tighten his grip as he keeps you pressed closely to him, “What you should do is go home and behave yourself.” 

There it is again. That word, behave. A command, an order, a spillage of gasoline across your fire. 

You light up at his words. 

“Who’s going to stop me? Certainly not you. And certainly not Eddie.” 

He lets go immediately, and takes several steps back. All contact between the two of you is lost. If you weren’t so irritated, so consumed by pent up desire, you might have whined. You might have reached back out or followed his steps back. With the distance, he looks down and can see your nipples straining against the chest of the dress.

His jaw locks, “I’ll call him.” 

You wield the hammer proudly as you pound the final nail into your coffin, “Do it.” 

You spin on your heel, leaving Family Video, with absolutely no intention of behaving. 

—

You stop at the store on your way home. Which, to be fair, is your first mistake. 

It doesn’t truly take that long to find the package of double A batteries, but even once they’re in your cart, you find yourself walking a few laps around the store to attempt to settle your racing heart and increasing ache. But even by the third lap, even as you get several curious glances from store employees and your thighs begin to ache from how quickly you’ve been walking circles, the pent-up energy persists. 

You don’t care. You’re now better equipped, and you know where Steve keeps the polaroid camera and film at home. 

But when you arrive at the apartment, plastic bag dangling loosely from your wrist, you completely miss the fact that Eddie’s van and Steve’s BMW are back in their respective parking spots. It doesn’t cross your mind that your boys might be home as you climb the stairs, as you fumble with your keys, as you shut the front door behind you with your hip. 

They were smart about it. They left all the lights out except one. 

You blindly fumble through the dark apartment, path set on the bedroom above all else. In your mind, you only had a few hours before they’d get home. The pressure of the time constraint was nearly anxiety-inducing until you stopped in the middle of the hallway, and immediately noticed the bedroom light is on. You rack your brain to try and remember if you’d left that light on, or if your hand had simply missed when you’d shot it out to flick the switch off your way out earlier. 

Neither. It was neither scenario, and you realize it as you stand in the doorway and are met with an unexpected sight. 

Steve is standing by the edge of the bed, arms crossed and face flat as he stares at you. He had been clearly awaiting your entrance. And his presence isn’t the one that strikes any regret or fear in your gut – that anticipation, the oh I fucked up moment, only arrives when you look to the bed and find Eddie sitting on the edge. He’s cleaned up already from the auto shop, arms and hands scrubbed of any grease. His work boots are still laced on his feet, coveralls have discarded to his waist and sleeves tied in a knot. 

It’s not just his presence that startles you. It’s your second mistake that stares you straight in the face; Eddie is casually holding your vibrator, turning it over between his palms, not even glancing up at your entrance. 

“You two are home early,” you squeak, and internally scorn yourself for the breaking in your tone. 

Steve’s still upset about your visit to him at work. Plainly written across his face, he doesn’t even try to hide his displeasure that shines through as he glares at you. 

“We are,” Eddie agrees, and a chill runs up your spine – his tone is airy, casual, light. And he looks anything but. “Wanted to surprise you, sweetheart. So you can imagine our disappointment when we came home to this-” he pauses and finally looks up at you, holding up the vibrator in a grandiose gesture, “-left out on the bed. Care to explain?” 

He phrases it like a question. It’s not a question – it’s an opportunity to convince them to go easy on you. 

A mutual mistake is made at that moment, on Eddie’s part and yours. He assumes you want a gentle night of affection and undivided attention – the fire in you wants anything but those things. The fire in you is seeking out bruises, marks that litter you for days, for the two men to reduce you to nothing more than a goddamn toy, just like the one that Eddie held in his hands. 

“I had an issue,” you reply snarkily, sitting the bag down onto the ground now, “I took care of it. Any questions?” 

Eddie’s fiddling with the toy immediately stops. You watch the way his palm cradles the sky blue silicone. You hadn’t even cleaned it after the failed usage; you’d assumed you’d be home before them, get right back into it and not be risking them finding it first. 

“Oh,” Eddie’s lips split into a daunting grin, “I think I have a few, sweetheart.” 

Steve hasn’t moved an inch, and continues to resemble a statue as Eddie stands up. He tosses the vibrator back to the center of the bed before he leans down and unlaces his boots. The seconds drag on as he takes his sweet time. 

“What’s in the bag?” Steve breaks his silence in an even tone, each syllable impossibly stern. 

You look down at the discarded plastic, the edge of the battery packaging peaking out. You shrug, “Batteries.”

“For what?”

“For my rocketship to Mars,” you snap sarcastically. His eyes darken and the downturn of his lips deepen. Eddie finishes unlacing his boots and slips them off, “The vibrator, of course. What else would I need them for?” 

“Did you use it on yourself? The vibrator?” Eddie is maintaining a faux relaxed cadence. If you weren’t paying close attention to his words, or his actions, you’d assume he was simply asking you about your day. 

You swallow hard. The first crack in your facade, “I sure as Hell tried.” 

Eddie stands back up to his full height, kicking his boots out of the way. He doesn’t look at you this time – he looks at Steve, “You hear that, Stevie? She tried.”

You meet Steve’s gaze with your chin held high. Resilience, defiance, contumacy. It all seeps from you in waves. Your way of saying that the teasing wasn’t going to be enough, not this time. 

Steve’s arms drop from his chest, “Tried,” he echoes Eddie, taking a step forward, making the flames lick up to your sternum, “Pathetic. Can’t even break the rules properly.” 

He’s as stubborn as you are in the eye contact. Prideful, commanding, authoritative. His waves meet yours with ease, nearly enough to reach your fire, nearly enough to attempt to put out the flames. 

But he doesn’t. As he and Eddie stand side by side, glowering at you with matching expressions, it only fans the flames. Only makes you burn brighter, ache worsening with each passing second. 

“It’s a shame,” Eddie taunts, “All that trouble you went through, and you won’t even be cumming tonight.” 

You smirk as you reach down and finally grab the batteries from the bedroom floor, “Oh? I won’t? That’s odd, because I actually had some pretty big plans with me, that toy, and these batter-”

You don’t have time to react before Eddie has crossed the room and snatched the package from your hands effortlessly. 

“I’ll take those. Thank you, doll.” 

He turns his back on you and Steve continues to watch you, watching your facade crumbling right before his eyes. Eddie wastes no time in tearing open the batteries before he grabs the vibrator, working open the compartment and shaking out the old ones only to be replaced with new ones. 

“Strip,” Eddie commands with his back still turned to you. The smirk on your face has long since fallen, completely fading as your eyes widen. When he hears no movement from you, he tsked, “Do you need to be told twice, sweetheart?” 

Steve’s anger, his indifference, has vanished along with your smirk. He raises one eyebrow in a challenge, a silent question of if you were willing to disobey them now that they were both here. 

“No, sir,” you secede through gritted teeth. They’re not stupid – they can still feel the heat from your blaze, even as you follow instructions. Even as you behave.

Eddie doesn’t watch you, but Steve does. His eyes never leave you, following your hands as you reach down to the hem of your dress. It’s at this moment that you remember your choices from earlier – no bra, no underwear. You don’t have to catch Steve’s expression once you lift the dress off your body to know he’s swirling with disbelief and frustration immediately.

“Where the fuck is your underwear?” he demands, breaking completely. Eddie has placed the backing on the compartment, and hardly has time to turn and face the two of you before Steve is in front of you, toe-to-toe with you as you bite back a smile.

“I forgot,” you lie entirely too smugly. 

“Forgot?” Steve scoffs, jaw flexing as his eyes trail down your neck, your collarbones, your peaked nipples. They glide a path all the way down your torso until they land on your exposed heat and the way you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together. “Bed, now.” 

“I don’t recall Eddie telling me to-”

“Listen to him, sweetheart,” Eddie chides, effectively interrupting you, “I think you’ll find Stevie isn’t in a very giving mood tonight. Best to not press your luck.”

To both men’s astonishment, you listen. A flip switches at the mention of giving, at the promise of satiation to come. Within seconds, you’re laying on the bed as Eddie sidesteps, still clutching your blue vibrator. 

“Flip over,” Steve demands, hand fiddling with his belt buckle as he approaches you. 

You do as he asks of you, rolling onto your stomach, turning your cheek to continue to watch him fully remove his belt now. Your thighs press together harder now, watching a moment of pensive thought cross his face as he looks down at the belt in his grasp. 

When he tosses it to the side, letting it hit the bedroom floor with a harsh thud, you count your lucky stars. 

“Since you seemed so fond of remembering them earlier today,” Steve muses, his bare hand tracing over the exposed skin of your back, down your spine until his fingertips dance over the swell of your nude ass, “How many polaroids did we take for Eddie that weekend?” 

He doesn’t need to elaborate what he’s referring to. You can’t see Eddie, but you hear him choke on a breath. 

“Five,” you respond as your hands fist the comforter beneath you, heart beginning to pound from anticipation. 

“Hm,” Steve fakes thoughtfulness, and you can see him turn his head in Eddie’s direction, “Five? Does that sound about right to you, Eds?” 

Eddie must have been nodding, not verbally responding until he caught on that Steve wanted him to answer him out loud, “Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, “Y-Yeah. Fuck, yeah, it was five polaroids. Still got ‘em in my bedside drawer.” 

Steve’s attention is back on yours in an instinct, hand retracting, “Here’s what’s going to happen, doll. Five polaroids, five hits. You’re going to count out loud. Do you understand?” 

You’re as speechless as Eddie had been; you’ve never managed to get Steve this riled up. The roles were usually reversed – usually, it was Eddie being domineering, Eddie being cruel and reveling in your squirming. 

“Answer me.”

You remember his hesitation with the belt – this time, you don’t hold back in blurting out, “I understand.” 

“Good,” his warm touch returns to you, this time on the bend of your knee, trailing its way up to the back of your thigh, “Color?” 

An ache pangs through your core, ringing out through the hollow of every bone in your body, “Green.” 

There’s no more pause or teasing. Once the word is spoken, Steve’s hand is pulled back before coming down on your ass, the smack riveting off the walls of the bedroom. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, feeling the hit straight in your center. For a moment, you can’t think straight, thoughts blurring together and disappearing into thin air. 

“That’s odd,” you barely register the lifting of the pressure of Steve’s hand, “I could have swore I told her to count. Did I not tell her to count?” 

“You did,” Eddie is no longer stuttering as he walks around Steve, entering your field of vision as he crouches beside the bed, leveling his head with yours, “She must not want to cum badly enough.”

There’s a spark in Eddie’s eyes you recognize, that you’re familiar with. This is how it normally is – Eddie, belittling you before completely wrecking you, all while wearing a boyish and an air of casualty. 

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for Stevie?” Eddie taunts you with a whisper, as if Steve couldn’t clearly overhear his words. 

“I do,” you sigh out, eyes glossy, “I do.” 

“Then count,” he instructs while keeping his voice hushed. His grin falls ever so slightly, gaze hardening before he looks up to Steve and says in a normal voice, “Start over. She’ll count this time.” 

Steve’s hand pulls back before landing another hard smack to you, this one stinging even more than the first time. 

This time, as you gasp, you manage to let out a strangled, “One.” 

He alternates sides. After each slap, you continue to count, voice growing higher in pitch each time, whines slipping out as you feel yourself grow wetter. 

You don’t notice the stray tears leaking out of your eyes, falling to the comforter and forming a dark spot, until Eddie reaches out his thumb to swipe them away before the final spank. 

“Look at you,” Eddie coos, “You’re a fucking mess, sweetheart, and we’re just getting started.” 

Steve doesn’t land the final smack yet, instead choosing to smooth his palms over your reddening skin, massaging gently. Eddie’s freehand disappears from the edge of the bed, and even in your mind’s haze, you immediately know he’s palming himself for brief relief by the way he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Color?” Steve calls out once more, leaning down over you, letting his lips brush at the small of your back. An uneven line of kisses are placed all the way down to your sore ass. Your breathing stutters at the softness, a startling contrast to his palm. 

“Still green,” you croak, making Eddie fight back a wide grin as his eyes flutter shut. 

You go to shift your hips, seeking out your own relief, but Steve is quick to press his palm over your lower back, pinning you down to the mattress with minimal pressure, “Nuh uh, doll. I’m not done with you yet. One more.”

“Think you can do one more?” Eddie murmurs, the taunting edge still in his cadence. 

You only nod. In any other scenario, the two boys would demand you use your words, but the movement appeases them tonight. 

The final blow is no less searing than the first, Steve using just as much force against the cheek he’d originally begun with. You almost forget to whimper out the count of ‘five’ until Eddie’s tapping your cheek gently. 

“Five,” you say as loudly as you can muster, opening your eyes that you hadn’t realized had closed. 

Eddie is staring intently at you, all teasing demeanor having temporarily lifted, “And you’re sure your color is green?” 

You can’t help but laugh at his genuine concern, the way his eyes manage to go soft even with his pupils so blown out. Steve is back to pressing kisses up your spine, carefully avoiding your backend now. 

“‘M sure,” you promise him, words slightly muffled by the way your mouth is partially pressed into the mattress, “Look at you two. Going all soft on me.” 

Eddie’s mouth quirks up immediately, reassured you’re fine.

“It’s just been a while,” Steve offers as his lips reach the nape of your neck, hands spreading over the back of your shoulders, “Munson’s gone too easy on you lately, hasn’t he?” 

Eddie throws his head back in laughter at that, “Oh, yeah. I have, haven’t I?” that mocking tone twists your gut, a reminder that they’ve yet to extinguish the fire you’ve been burning with the entire day, “Got so soft on you that Harrington had to get mean.” 

“You’ve both been mean,” you argue back, becoming restless once more. You hardly pay any mind to the throbbing of where Steve had just punished you, “All I wanted this morning was ten more minutes, and you both ignored me.” 

Steve’s off of you fairly quickly as Eddie’s expression slowly morphs into something more carnal. 

“All this attitude… because you didn’t get your way?” he slowly enunciates each word, rising slowly from his crouch as his eyes never leave you. He lets out a soft tut, “Flip her over for me, Stevie. I think I need to remind her of just how mean we can actually be.” 

Before Eddie fully steps away from the bed, he grabs a pillow to pass to Steve. No words are exchanged between them as Steve manages to rearrange you onto your back, the soft pillow serving to protect your reddened backend while simultaneously lifting your hips. 

You aren’t watching Steve, though. You’re captivated by Eddie as he smoothly removes his shirt, lean torso bared to you with a smattering of ink and taut muscles. Eddie isn’t quite the same lanky boy he once was – he’s grown into himself, into his body, and he’s far stronger than he looks. 

“Enjoying the show, brat?” he hums in question as his hand drops to the handcuff buckle of his belt, fiddling without so much as looking down at it, training his darkened irises on the rapid rise and fall of your chest.  “You know, I should put this belt to use on you for the way you’ve treated us today. I should tie your hands above your head, turn that vibrators of yours onto its highest setting, leave you writhing as it abuses that pretty little cunt while me and Steve go get some dinner. If I were really being mean, I would do those things, sweetheart. But I’m not feeling mean,” with each word, he steps closer to the bed, discarding his work overalls and socks along the way, before he’s crawling up the edge of the bed and slotting himself between your thighs. His touch is colder than Steve as he wraps a palm around one of your calves, sliding up and down as his rings press into your skin, “I’m actually feeling quite generous tonight, baby.” 

“Please,” you beg, knees falling apart, trying to make more room to accommodate him. You nearly reach down, nearly grab him by his shoulders and pull him into where you want him most – where you need him most. “I’ll be good, I swear. I can be good, sir-”

“My, my,” he cuts you off, leaning his mouth against the soft side of your knee, lips parting as he knicks your skin between his teeth and makes you jump, excitement and thrill pumping through your veins with intense longing, “You’re being so polite, I knew you had it in you. Where exactly were these manners earlier, though, with Stevie… in public?” 

At the mention of Steve, your head rolls to the side, finding him standing to the sidelines already completely undressed. His cock stands proudly against his lower abdomen, the tip an angry shade of pink, shining with precum as he slowly reaches down to grip himself around his base. 

You let out a whine as his grip on himself remains still, him only saying, “You better answer him. Before his generosity runs out.” 

Eddie bites your inner knee again before letting his lips drag up your inner thigh, breath hot on your skin, “Don’t be shy on us now. You certainly weren’t shy when you were talking such a big game in the middle of Family Video, of all places. What did you expect to happen, hm? Did you expect Steve to just take you to the backroom, to give you all you demanded without being deserving of it?” 

“No, sir,” you breathe out. He hooks both of your legs over his shoulders, looking up with a devilish grin, eyes locked on target of your cunt. 

“Tell Steve you’re sorry, sweetheart,” he insists, mouth growing closer to your center at an antagonizing pace. 

Steve’s fist is now pumping his length, and you purse your lips into a pout as you make eye contact with him, “I’m sorry, Stevie.” 

You receive a smack onto your exposed pussy from Eddie, his ring catching on your clit and causing you to let out a yelp.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you correct yourself, devolving into a moan when Eddie finally puts his mouth on you. It’s momentary, but enough to have your hands shooting down to grip the comforter at your side, balling it up tightly as your knuckles pale. 

“Say,” Eddie pulls back, shimmering eyes meeting yours, “Be a doll and hold my hair back for me, yeah? I usually prefer to keep my hair out of my meals.” 

You do as he asks, hands letting go of soft down material and tangling into messy curls, one hand digging into his roots while the other gathers the rest of his mane into a makeshift ponytail in your fist. His fingertips dig into your thighs greedily as he begins to devour, tongue working in quick swipes from your entrance to clit. You throw your head back, skull crushing into the mattress as your lips immediately begin to buck up into him. Your flames grow the highest yet, curling around your neck and up the back of your throat, releasing like smoke signals in gasps and sighs, heavy pants of Eddie’s name that only fuels him to grow more eager against you. You can feel the mattress shake from him rutting his hips in chase of his own release.

“Fuck,” you cry out over the sound of Eddie lapping and the quickening pace of Steve touching himself, “Jesus Christ. God, fuck, I-”

“Not God, not Jesus,” his voice rasps against your clit, pausing to purse his lips and suck sharply, “Just Eddie or sir will do just fine, baby.” 

Steve sees the first sign of your orgasm creeping up on you – Eddie is lost in you, nose nudging against your clit as his tongue dives into your entrance, taking all you can give him. 

“Don’t let her cum.” 

Another curse falls from your lips, and your back arches further off the mattress, igniting pain on your backside from the burn left by Steve’s hand. 

Eddie’s mouth stays pressed against you as his words send shockwaves up your spine, feeling his own pants as he replies, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

You tug sharply with the hand tangled in his roots, Eddie groaning into you as Steve says, “She’s about to cum. Get your mouth off her, Munson.” 

His words only spur you to clamp your thighs tightly against Eddie’s ears, as if you could block out the command. You were close. The closest you’d been all day, wound tightly and desperately for a release you’d been seeking since this morning. 

Eddie was easy to break. You’d been right. For all the mean he was capable of, once he got his mouth on you, you were always sure to finish. He was a starving man, as needy as you as he would beckon you closer and closer to your edge. He got off just as clearly by your pleasure as you did. 

He doesn’t listen to Steve. His tongue only plunges into you once more, and the coil in the center of your burning abdomen nearly snaps before Steve’s hand replaces the one that had been holding Eddie’s hair back. He tugs harshly, pulling the other boy’s mouth off of you in an instant.

The coil doesn’t snap. You nearly scream, your entire body aching fervently. 

Eddie’s neck is bared to you as you glance down, hair still pulled taut by Steve’s grip as he licks his slick lips with a teasing grin. He catches your look of desperation and frustration, and one corner of his mouth turns the grin lopsided, “Told you, sweetheart. He’s feeling mean today, not me.” 

“She’s been a brat. Brats don’t fucking cum,” Steve glares down at you, making you squirm, legs still hooked over Eddie’s shoulders. 

You're dizzy from nearly coming to the fruition of your release, but still find a spark of snark somewhere deep in your chest as you lazily roll your eyes at Steve. 

“Bite me, Steve.” 

Eddie gives your thighs one last tight squeeze before your legs drop off of him as he moves to stand up beside Steve. He crawls backwards slowly, deliberately wiggling his brows on his flush face, “Mouthy, are we?” 

“Far too mouthy,” Steve quips, letting go of Eddie’s hair finally. The curls brush his collarbones, falling in dark waves over his bare shoulders. 

“Maybe you should put her mouth to better use, Stevie.” 

They watch the breath get caught in your throat, the clench of your thighs as your eyes widen. Chest heaving. Pupils blown. You’re an image to be held right now by them, but they’re not going to tell you that – not yet. 

“You’re right,” Steve muses. He’s hard, painfully so, as he moves to cup his balls, rolling the tension out of his shoulders, “Get her on her knees for me.” 

Eddie helps you stand, taking the pillow that had been wedged beneath your hips and dropping it to the ground at Steve’s feet. Your knees still shake from your flames. You’re convinced they’ll burn you alive before the night is over, before your boys are done with you. 

Your hands grasp onto Eddie’s forearms for a moment, steadying yourself. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, a private moment between the two of you as he brings a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him with devastating gentleness compared to the roughness they’ve shown you thus far. He’s smiling softly, no sign of cynical or cruelty as he tilts his head, “How you doin’? What’s your color?” 

“Still green, Eds,” you insist, leaning into his touch.

“And what do you say if it starts to get to be too much?”

“Yellow.” 

“And if you need to full stop, no questions asked?” 

“Red.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, dimples protruding before he leans down to kiss you. He tastes of nicotine, of mint, of you. Your tongue chases after his own into his mouth, losing yourself momentarily in the way his fingers continue to cradle your chin as he movements remain patient, giving. A stark contrast to what you’re used to in the bedroom, but exactly what you expect from the boy outside of the bedroom. 

“Any day now,” Steve sighs, reminding you two of his presence. You both pull back and Eddie drags his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging and mimicking the show you’d made with the syrup for him that morning. 

“Sorry,” Eddie rasps out, eyes still on you, “Just couldn’t resist. You know me, always the giver.” 

“Right,” Steve snorts, the tenseness of the moment momentarily lifted as Eddie moves you to your knees in front of Steve. “Because you were so giving to her last week when you spit in her mouth after she begged for a kiss.” 

Eddie shrugs, fingers carding through your hair and pulling it back over your shoulders, “I have my days. Just like you, clearly.” 

His touch leaves you as you come face to face with Steve’s dick now, lashes fluttering as you look up at the two men. Eddie is quick to remove his boxers, a wet patch having formed on the crotch of them. 

It’s embarrassing, the way your mouth waters at the mere sight of the two of them. Steve is big – in girth, in length – and you know him to be a challenge, always leaving your jaw aching. But Eddie is smaller – still girthy, still perfectly fitted to hit the perfect angles inside of you when he drills you into the mattress – but simply less intimidating. Steve stands tall and proud, but Eddie’s dick curves ever so slightly to the right, a darker shade of pink on his tip that nearly perfectly matches his lips and your own blushing cheeks. 

“Look at her,” Eddie coos, stepping out of the discarded boxers and coming around behind Steve, having to lean down to place his chin on Steve’s shoulder as his arms wrap around the boy’s waist loosely, “Already cock drunk, and all we’ve done is take off our clothes.” 

Steve is the one smirking now as Eddie places a succession of kisses over his shoulder, up his neck, both men look at you intently. “She is, isn’t she?” 

“Just pathetic,” Eddie goads. Steve nods in agreement immediately. 

You don’t say a word as Steve grips himself again and Eddie lets go of him, side-stepping to become a spectator once more before Steve guides his tip to your lips, tapping expectantly. 

“Not so mouthy anymore, are you, baby?” Steve teases you. You shake your head before you let your lips part, jaw slack as you open your mouth for Steve.

The weight of him on your tongue is heavy, and you give yourselves a moment to just savor it. This is what you had been wanting since this morning, what you’d been begging for the entire day. 

By the way Steve’s head falls back with a moan, he’d spent the entire day longing for this just as much as you. 

“Just like that,” he whines, hard exterior cracking as you begin to bob your head against him, taking your time as your tongue swirls around his tip. You breathe deeply through your nose, slow as you begin to swallow him down, taking him further and further down your throat until he hits the back of it and gags you. The restriction of your throat has him releasing a deep groan, pulling from his chest as his hand reaches down to find purchase in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth is so good for me, baby. So good.”

“So much better when she’s putting it to good use, right?” Eddie comments, and you can hear the schlick of his fist pumping himself, fluid movements with the flick of his wrist. 

Steve hums in agreement, fingers tightening against your scalp as you take him further down, choking once more. Tears have sprung to your eyes as you finally pull back, gasping for breath as you pepper kisses across his tip and down the length, reaching his balls before you mouth at them. His hips buck without constraint. 

You’ve caught you breath by the time you’re kissing up the opposite side, sucking his tip as harshly as Eddie had treated your clit, a throb ricocheting through you as his fans with your flames with every pant of your name. A chant, a prayer, an answer of forgiveness – your stunt at Family Video is long forgotten as you sit back on your heels and open your mouth wide, making it clear you want him to fuck your face. 

His eyes shoot open and catches sight of you waiting patiently. When he doesn’t make the first move, you reach up and tug on him, one hand stroking him and the other placed against his thigh. 

“Fuck my mouth, sir,” you beg of him, some of the lingering tears in your eyes still wetting your lashes, “Please.” 

The please is all it takes. The way your voice cracks, the way your thighs clench as you whine. Steve wastes no time in placing both his hands on the back of your head, watching you intently. 

Your hand starts to drop from his thigh, and he’s quick to grab it and place it back in its original position firmly. 

“Two taps to slow down, three taps to stop. Understood?” You nod dumbly, and he pulls on a strand of hair, making you gasp.“Say it. Say you understand.” 

“I understand. Two taps to slow down, three to stop.” 

Once the words leave your mouth, your hand still on his thigh, he thrusts into your waiting mouth. There’s no mercy as his hips jerk towards you, immediately pressing down your throat and leaving you a drooling mess. Each thrust brings on a fresh wave of tears, leaving your cheeks wet as you let him use you for his own pleasure. Each time his tip taps the back of your throat, you feel your core begin to ache worse, shuffling your thighs to keep your balance as well as seek out friction. You let your eyes divert from watching the way Steve’s chest frantically heaves to Eddie, who’s eyes are half-shut, wrist still flicking lazily, moving to a slower pace than the force that Steve fucks your mouth with. You try to communicate with your eyes for him to come closer, but to no avail. 

Finally, you tap Steve’s thigh twice, and his movements slow to nearly a stop, letting his dick drop from your tongue as you puff to catch your breath. 

“Everything okay?” Steve immediately checks in on you, and you nod, focusing your attention.

“C’mere,” you plead with Eddie, holding out a hand. He’s quick to come to you, and in an instant, you replace his fist with your own after spitting into your palm. 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie hisses, hips stuttering as you pick up his pace where he left off. 

The boys share a look before you glance up to Steve. 

“Sorry,” you smirk softly, “Eddie just looked a little lonely. Continue as you were.” 

Steve’s thrusts are even more frantic now as his eyes dart between your eyes and your hand, tugging on Eddie’s dick to match the pace set by him. He tests it out, slowing his movements and immediately widening his eyes at the way your hand follows his guidance. 

Eddie seems to realize this at the exact time, as they both moan out in sync. 

Just as you realize how sore your throat is sure to be come tomorrow, the possibility of bruising on your mind, Steve’s breathing becomes more ragged, thrusts faltering while Eddie begins to whine incessantly. 

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps out, finally thrusting to meet your fist, “Fucking- Holy shit, my God.” 

“I’m going to cum,” Steve grunts out, abdomen contracting, “I- Fuck, baby. Fuck, take it. Just like that.” 

His praises become incoherent as Eddie smacks your hand away from him, quickly guiding your now free-hand to play with Steve’s balls. That’s all it takes for Steve, a few ginger rolls and pinches against his heavy sack, before he’s cumming in rapid spurts down your throat. He presses you up against his pelvis, your nose buried in his pubic hair, as he groans and curses through his high. Eddie watches, wide-eyed, as you take it in stride, swallowing every drop that Steve offers to you. 

“Well, shit,” he breathes out through his nose as you pull back from Steve, letting a string of spit trail from your chin to his softening dick, “That never gets fucking old.” 

You laugh hoarsely, “Neat trick, huh?” 

Steve helps you off of your knees gently before he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, Eddie still standing with his dick against his abs, pink tip more swollen than before. 

You stand between Steve’s knees and lean down, letting one of your knuckles brush over his check before you push some of his stray hairs off of his forehead with care, “Have I proven I’m sorry yet, sir?” 

He breathlessly chuckles, eyes shut in residual bliss, “Fuck you.” 

You’re shocked when Eddie comes up behind you as you’re still bent over, and suddenly running his tip through your soaking folds. Steve leans forward to kiss you hard, catching the whine that spills out from your throat. 

“I think we owe her an orgasm still, Stevie,” Eddie comments, hand wrapping around the front of you as he pulls you back from Steve, fingers flicking your nipples before his hand comes to rest around your throat. Your back is flush with his chest, he’s tucked between your thighs as your core flutters around nothing. “How’s that sound, sweetheart?” 

Your hum is lost in your chest, your flames desperate to lick at Eddie’s wrists as you lean your head back on his shoulder and let his fingers give an experimental squeeze to your throat.

“Still too much of a cock drunk slut to answer me, I see,” Eddie tsks, kissing the back of your shoulder chastely, “That’s alright. I’m still in a giving mood, baby — Let me take care of you.” 

Steve watches, silent and entranced, as you become pliable in Eddie’s hands. You put up no fight as presses you to get on your hands and knees on the bed, letting your knees slide further apart until you’ve sunk to the perfect height for Eddie to slip his dick between your slit once more, his tip catching your clit and making you jerk forward. His hands massage your ass, still red from Steve’s spankings, thumbs rubbing gentle circles and the cool and sticky rings managing to soothe the heat that radiates from you. 

“Look at that,” Eddie nudges the tip of his cock against your entrance, “You’re already ready for me. She’s practically begging to be filled by me.” 

“I am,” you agree, curling your fists into the sheets to prepare yourself, “Please fill me, Eddie. Please.” 

He chuckles darkly, leaning forward as some of his weight lays along your back, whispering in your ear, “I wasn’t talking about you, slut. I was talking about that pretty pussy of yours.” 

Without warning, Eddie sinks in. He was right — your walls stretch to welcome him, sucking him in tightly until he’s bottomed out, groaning huskily into your ear still. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gasps with you, “This wet, just for us?” 

You hear Steve make a weak noise off to the side of you two, and tilt your head to find him already half hard again, eyes focused on where Eddie fills you.  

“Just for you,” you supply through whines that creep up on you, fry tile in your attempt to swallow them down, already clenching down on Eddie as you burn, “Only for my boys.” 

Your eyes lock with Steve’s. He’s fully hard at the term of possessiveness. 

Eddie finally begins to rock against you, lifting from your back, each snapping of his hips focused on nudging his tip deeper into you, hitting the spot that has your back arching as you cry out. He’s wasting no time, hardly being careful of your sore skin as his thighs meet the back of yours.

“God, you take me so well. Always take us so well, sweetheart,” Eddie rambles, mutterings of curses spilling from his lips as he reaches to hold your hips with a tight grip. Even if your throat wasn’t bruised, your hips surely would be. 

Steve has begun to touch himself again, matching Eddie’s strokes to his own. 

“So fucking tight,” Eddie groans out, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust that has you crying out, mind reeling as the burn that has scorned you all day threatens to spread. Coals in the pit of your stomach, turning your vision right and your body flush pink, “You want my cum sweetheart? Just like in those pretty photos?” 

You clench around him, walls beginning to flutter as you chant an alternation of his name and Steve’s. 

“You know what, Eddie? I think those photos are a bit dated by now, don’t you think? I think we need to take a new picture of our pretty little pussy,” Steve cuts in, tone uneven as he thrusts into his own fist. 

You clench harder.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” Eddie’s hot chest is back against your back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear with each rock of his hips. He’s impossibly deep — you’re sure if you were to press on your lower stomach, you’d feel him there. “Want me to fill you with all my cum like the fucking slut you are? Hm?” 

It’s as if he was reading your mind, a hand trailing from your hips over where he is in fact bulging against your lower stomach. He lays his palm flat and applies pressure, and your mouth hangs open, unable to make a sound as your face screws up in pleasure, “Feel that? Feel how fucking deep I am in you right now?” he pauses, and thrusts even harder, knocking you down from your palms to your elbows, “I bet you’d like me to fill you with my cum, I bet you want me to put a fucking baby in you, sweetheart. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? God, I know you love that idea, squeezing me so tight.” 

Steve groans out from beside the two of you again, chest red as he chases his second organs of the night. You’re too overwhelmed with your coil once more tightening to take in the sight.

“I bet you’d let us take turns, fucking babies into you, making you nice and round with our fucking kids. I bet your tits would get nice and pretty, big and sensitive, huh?” Eddie edges you on, noticing the way you’ve begun to rock back into him, still fluttering around him wildly with each of his words. His hand travels up to your chest and twists a nipple painfully, “Is that what you want, brat? You want us to breed you?” 

“Yes,” you finally find your words, crying out, unable to chase your breath as everything inside you ignites, “Please breed me, p-please,” you stutter as tears begin to flow down your cheeks again, “I- Please let me cum. I’m gonna cum, please-”

The words you’ve been waiting for all day finally fall from Eddie’s lips, “Cum for me, baby.” 

Your vision goes white as you burst into flames, face pressing fully into the mattress roughly as Eddie continues to pound into you, taking no time to slow down. Your ears ring, unable to hear a single soothing word either he or Steve coos at you through your release, only focused on how full you are of Eddie, the ache in your jaw from Steve, the burn of your ass from Steve’s palm. You’re sure you’ve screamed through it by the new scratchiness that settles with the residual ache in your throat. 

When you finally come back to, the flames finally tamed as the embers and ash settle, Eddie is still rutting relentlessly into you, clearing chasing his own high now. 

“Fuck,” he whines out, drawing the word out as his hips stutter, “G-Gonna cum, gonna fill you up so full of my cum, sweetheart, I-” 

He cuts off, and you feel his warmth paint your walls as he bites onto your shoulder, hardly muffling the sinful noises coming from his mouth. For a moment, he relaxes his full weight on top of you before lifting at the sound of Steve’s whines. 

He doesn’t pull out yet, beckoning to Steve as he sees the boy coming close to release. You’re still coming down, smoke still clearing from your head, hardly registering when Eddie leaves you empty, only for Steve to begin to pump himself over you. His cum mixes with Eddie’s as it leaks out of you, painting your puffy lips in both of them. His moans and groans sound as if they come from underwater. 

You stay laying there, entire body trembling from exhaustion, entire upper body collapsed as Steve soothingly holds your hips.

“Stay up for us just one more second baby,” he kisses your temple, sickly sweet before you hear the shutter of a camera. 

There’s a whirring of film being produced as your hips finally collapse and your feet brush the carpeted floor, body sagging in relief. You’re fully unaware of Steve and Eddie’s movements, unsure of which one retrieves the wet cloth to clean you off, which one gathers you up before pulling back the comforter and sheets to snuggly fit you into the center of the bed. You think it’s Steve that produces the glass of water, as he whispers ‘drink’ and encourages you to drain half the glass before each boy takes to laying on either side of you. You curl instinctually into Steve’s chest as Eddie presses his body carefully to the back of you, grabbing your hand and intertwining fingers before he begins to place kisses down your arm. Steve traces soothing circles over your thigh. 

“You did so good for us, honey,” Steve murmurs as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “So good.” 

Eddie leans back to look at your bare ass, catching sight of the handprints left welting, “Sheesh. Stevie really did a number on you, didn’t he, sweetheart?” 

You whine pathetically in response, making both men chuckle. 

“It isn’t that bad, is it?” Steve finally asks after a beat of silence, attempting to crane his neck to catch sight of the damage done. 

“Nothing a little lotion and lovin’ can’t fix,” Eddie smiles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before letting go of your hand, “My head, on the other hand, still hurts from you pulling my hair, dickhead.” 

“You weren’t listening to me, asshole.” 

With the flames dying down, all that’s left now is a warmth of unimaginable lengths, something to have and to hold as the two boys bicker from either side of you. 

When silence begins to soothe over you three, when you can feel both Steve’s head beneath your chest and Eddie’s against your shoulders rising and falling evenly, you finally dare to whisper, “I’m sorry for being such a brat today.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, baby,” Steve mumbles, clearly on the verge of sleep as his fingers have slowed in their gentle dance over your thigh. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie agrees, mouth pressed to the nape of your neck, “You know we don’t mind. We’re always more than happy to put you back in your place.” 

“We’re sorry for ignoring you this morning,” Steve continues on drearily, on the cusp of drifting out of consciousness, “You can have ten more minutes of every morning from now on, I swear. I… I can call… I can call out of work tomorrow, or just… go in late,” Steve’s words become increasingly slurred as he clearly starts to fall asleep mid sentence. 

You can’t help but giggle into his chest, adoration flooding you for his snores that begin. “He’s definitely not going to call out tomorrow, is he?” 

Eddie’s still awake behind you, each puff of his breath on your neck soothing you to follow Steve’s lead into unconsciousness. He brings a hand to your hip and pinches you lovingly, “Don’t worry, babe. I’m actually off work tomorrow. Maybe we can get up to some trouble, return the favor and take some polaroids for Stevie to have of his own.”

[rorywritesjunk]

All I dream of lately is how to get you underneath me

It was Buggy's turn to do your makeup.

Rating: R because the girlfriend can't keep her hands to herself or keep her dirty mind from wandering.

Warning: None really, just suggestive themes. Buggy has a bun because I can't help myself, and chest hair. Mentions of nipple piercings on Buggy because why not? And Buggy is a damn tease as well.

A/N: Sequel to the makeup fic. I wrote two versions of this before deciding the second one was more on track with how the original went. It's inspired by a tag from @sporadicthingcollection from the first fic. Title comes from "Closer" by Tegan & Sara.

Part One is here!

The bath had been comforting, warm, and much needed. This time it wasn't Buggy having a bad day and needing some pampering, it was you. Between losing half your groceries from ripped bags to a pot of water boiling over on the stove and making a huge mess, your foot had also been run-over by Cabaji on his unicycle while you were trying to help some of the performers literally find their marks. It wasn't the first time your foot was a victim to the unicycle, but in the chaos of the day, you didn't think to wear shoes and well, the tread-mark shaped cuts on your foot was a reminder to do so next time.

You toweled off and pulled your robe on, wincing as you limped over to the bed to sit. Buggy was sitting at his vanity, only in his underwear as he unwinded from the day as well. His hair was up in a messy bun, his back to you as he wiped away the day's makeup. It was always a fascinating sight to you, and you knew you were lucky to see him in a near vulnerable state like this.

He rummaged through the drawers of the vanity for something before looking up at the mirror and seeing you reflected back at him on the bed. He smirked, the red around his mouth still prominent, making the smirk appear larger than it was.

"See something you like?" He teased. You flushed at being caught staring. 

"Always." You shot back as you continued watching him, a thought coming to your mind. It was dumb to ask. You both were going to bed in the next few hours, but you didn't know when a better time to ask would be. "Buggy, can I ask you something?"

"Depends." He replied as he looked back at himself in the mirror. "What is it?"

"Um… could you do my makeup?" You asked. "It's just… I like seeing how you do yours and… thought maybe you'd be able to do mine? But I get it if you don't want to, you know, I don't think I really have the face for it."

He pushed his chair away from the vanity and stood up. He didn't say anything as he turned to face you and crossed the room in just a few steps. You wondered if you offended him somehow by the way he grabbed your face when he approached you, staring down at you before smashing his lips against yours in a surprising kiss. You gasped when he pulled away, head spinning as you wondered what the fuck brought that on.

"Thought you'd never ask." He grinned. "Let's get started."

He went back to the vanity and started rummaging through drawers, piling whatever his findings were on the top. You wondered if you should even bother to change into clothes since you would likely end up naked by the end anyway, it would be less of a hassle to stay in your robe.

He came back over a few minutes later and gestured for you to scoot into the middle of the bed. Oh, he was going to do it on the bed, like how you did for him. You scooted to the middle of the bed and grabbed a pillow to stick under your head before making sure your robe stayed closed. He crawled on top of you, knees on either side of your body as you moved your hands to rest over your chest. He didn't need to pin your hands down because you weren't going to grope him like he did to you every time you did his makeup.

Once he settled on top of you and you realized the view you would have, you suddenly realized that oh, you can see why he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Sure, you had been under him plenty of times, but not like this. For one thing, his thighs were right there. Of course you've been between them, looking up at him from the ground as you sometimes knelt down in front of him while he sat in his captain's chair, his pants undone as your mouth su-

"Babe." He snapped you back to reality. Your face was red. "You good?"

"Y-Yes." You replied as your fingers twitched, needing to be touching something to keep you focused. He seemed to notice and grabbed them, placing them both on top of his thighs, the last place you wanted to be touching right then because you knew them so well. You knew how they felt under you whenever you were straddling his lap, whether it was in bed or his chair, naked, riding him until-

He cleared his throat and you up at him again, turning redder in the face.

"Behave." He teased as he held up two eyeliner pencils near your eyes. He studied them for a moment before tossing one aside and uncapping the other. He then leaned down, face close to your own as he carefully moved the pencil along your bottom eyelid, looking at you but not really. The urge to pull him down for a kiss was there, and you thought the possibility of losing an eye would be worth it if you got to kiss him right then.

He was finished quicker than you thought and kissed your forehead. You realize you didn't specify how to do your makeup. Was he going to do something elaborate or simple? Your fingers tapped nervously against his thighs as you started to wonder if this was a good idea. You had worn makeup a few times in your younger years but it never looked right, so you gave up trying to learn how to do it on yourself.

But damn were you glad to have asked him to do it. It was a different kind of intimacy having him leaning over you, an eyeshadow palette in one hand and a brush in the other as he whispered for you to close your eyes, which you did without hesitation. Your hands stayed on his thighs, moving up and down his thighs slowly, fingers crooking to drag your nails over his skin. You didn't really pay attention to how much you were moving your hands until you felt the fabric of his boxers against your knuckles. You decided to push your luck as you flattened your hands back down and began to slide them up his boxers slowly.

"Babe!" He yelped as he swatted at your hand. "Hey!"

You cracked one eye open and grinned. "Sorry, didn't realize what I was doing."

"Liar." He scolded, looking scandalized by your actions. "I'll sit on you like you do me if you don't watch it."

"Aw, but Buggy!" You whined. "I can't help it!"

"Watch it." He warned as he held the brush threateningly. "Everything else is fair game right now but that. Just wait."

You pouted up at him as you let your hands move to his waist instead, your thumbs running along the waistband of his boxers. He seemed fine with that and you closed your eyes again as he began brushing the eyeshadow over your lids.

It was just hard not to touch him. Before you knew it, you were sliding your hands up his sides, to his chest, your thumbs brushing over his nipples, resisting the urge to tug on the piercings he had there. You felt him flinch when you touched him, so of course you did it again before running your fingers through his chest hair, hands moving up to his neck so your arms could wrap around him. He cleared his throat and you opened your eyes. 

"Okay, I gotta keep you still." He said. "You're getting too handsy."

"But Buggyyyyyy!" You pouted up at him. "I can't help it, really. Just… fuck, you should see what I'm seeing right now. You look so damn beautiful like this."

He blushed but said nothing as he set the eyeshadow aside. He reached back to unhook your arms from around his neck, pushing them above your head suddenly and holding them against the mattress. He held them down with one hand while the other moved to your cheek, stroking your flushed skin softly.

"And if you could see how you looked right now, babe, underneath me like this…” He trailed off as he tightened his grip on your wrists, his other hand now sliding down your body, untying your robe, touching your stomach as it moved between your legs. You inhaled sharply, trying to move your legs apart for him, biting back a moan.

And then he pulled his hand back without even touching you.

“Buggy!” You whined. “Why?!”

“We’re not finished yet, babe.” He smirked. “I still have to do your lipstick.”

[bluehourbucky]

Nice Jacket

pairing: chubbybaker!bucky x fbiker!reader

summary: you pick up bucky from work for the first time on your 6 month anniversary

a/n: many many thoughts about soft bucky none are coherent :))) also I don't know anything about bikes so bare with me fudhdhd

/ main / bucky /

18+ only

no minors please

______________________________________

Bucky has been acting weird for a while now and Steve and Sam have been going over what he could be so secretive about. They got nothing. He's singing, dancing and making heart shaped pastry but they haven't seen him outside of the bakery like ever.

He couldn't be in love could he? Bucky rejected at least three people this month alone.

"Hey Steve, could I ask you to close up tonight I promise I'll make it up to you."

Steve lifts a brow because Bucky almost never leaves early.

"Uh sure but why? It isn't like you to leave early?"

Bucky blushes but quickly tries to cover it up with a cough.

"Mygirlfirendispickingmeupforourdate." bucky says all in one breath very quietly. He's not sure why he won't tell his friends. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to jinx it as it has been a few years since his last serious relationship so he wants to hold onto it for a little while.

"What?"

"Just need you to close up please." Bucky begs and Steve just nodds.

Time quickly passes, and Bucky gets a text that you'll be there in 10. He's not the fastest when it comes to getting off work. There's always something that catches his eye before he leaves, but right now, he's out of his work clothes in no time.

"How do I look? Do I have flour in my hair?"

Steve smirks when he realises Bucky is going on a date.

"Hard to look at, punk. And no you do not have flour in your hair."

Bucky shoves Steve and flips him off.

Thats when they hear a loud roar of bikes in front of the bakery.

"Which one is yours?" Natasha asks you lifting her visor.

"The hot one." you simply reply looking at the men though the window taking your helmet off.

"That doesn't help you know? They're both hot."

You roll your eyes.

"Do you think the jacket is too much?" You look back at the box at the end of your bike a leather jacket you've prepared for Bucky as his present. You've customised it with the patches of your biker gang and some other patches from his favorite band and his favourite books. There's also his last name on the back in big white letters. You hope one day you'll get the same thing on your jacked but that's just wishful thinking.

"I gotta go see ya later punk. Thanks for the help." Bucky taps Steve's shoulder before he leaves.

"You can leave now." You tell Natasha, who's being a menace and just won't leave until she meets your Bucky.

"When do I get to meet him?" Natasha groans, Bucky is all you talk about and she didn't think you could get so soft and giggly about a guy she's never seen it before, usually you're indifferent to the guys you date. But with Bucky oh it's all about Bucky, the blue of the sky is not as pretty his eyes, the cakes you eat are not as good as Buckys, anyways you get the point.

"But-" She's cut off by you turning on her bike and pushing her to leave, you'll deal with the teasing later tonight is special so, no one is meeting anyone tonight.

You run up to Bucky when he exits the bakery and jump into his arms, he smells incredible his cologne mixed with sweet smell of bakery brings you so much comfort.

"Hey, handsome." your arms still around his middle nails softly scratching his back.

"Hi doll." he looks at you smiling, moving a strand of hair that has fallen.

"Ready to go?"

"Ready."

You sit on your bike and wait for Bucky to sit behind you, he carefully sits behind your wrapping his big strong arms around you and you feel right at home.

Bucky will never forget the first time you took him for a ride on your bike, he was so nervous as he's never been on one before. He was holding onto you like his life dependented on it, which at that moment it felt like it did. He's kept his eyes closed for most of the ride, Bucky thought it was embarrassing but you reassured him that it's okay.

The second time Bucky was even more embarrassed than the first as he suddenly turned into a horny teen and got a hard on when you kept putting your hand on his thigh every time you stopped at a red light and the constant vibrations and moving didn't help. And again you told him that it's fine and that you didn't think it was embarrassing.

By now, he's already used to it, and he loves going on rides with you. He loves kissing you when he's balancing the bike, your legs over his thighs, your hands in his hair pulling him closer.

Bucky looks at the city around him it's always busy, always crowded. He smiles to himself when he sees you're taking the route to get out of the city, he doesn't know where but wherever you take him he'll be fine with it.

It takes less than an hour to arrive at your destination, you stop at a resting spot in the middle of nowhere. Just one table that looks out to the city, it's there susually for travelers that need to rest and be on their way. Tonight it's luckly empty.

"We're here!" you step off the bike and take your helmet off, then help Bucky take his off as it always gets stuck for some reason, the reason being Bucky likes you taking it off for him as he always gets to hold your waist because you have to get on your tippy toes to pull it off.

"I picked up some wraps from your favourite place, I hope they haven't gotten cold." you say as you're trying to hide the jacket that takes 80% of the box.

"You didn't have to do that. Thank you, doll."

"It's nothing." you also take the drinks and put them on the table. Bucky and you sit on the bench turned to look at the city line.

"Happy 6 months to us."

"Happy 6 months. Hope I get to spend many more with you." Bucky replies, and you blush.It isn't something you expected to hear, it's not like you don't want that too with Bucky, but you didn't think he felt the same way.

Bucky starts to panic when you don't reply, he scared you, he knows that you two haven't been together for a long time but he's never been more sure about anything or anyone else before.

"Listen I-" you cut him off with a kiss and tell him to wait.

"Uh I know we said no gifts but... I got this for you, you don't have to wear it and I can take these off." You shyly present the black leather jacket and Bucky takes it from your hands and puts it on immediately.

"I love it! How do I look?"

"Very handsome." you pull him in for a kiss turns into much more, he holds your neck, deepening the kiss.

Hours pass and you switch between making out and talking and Buckys fingers find their way inside your jeans and your hands find themselves in his jeans too.

As much as Bucky is shy in public he's totally opposite in private, he's needy he's loud and you enjoy it so much.

"My friends want to meet you. Apparently I'm obsessed with you and they wanna give you the talk."

"You are obsessed with me through." You hit Buckys shoulder and he holds it groaning in pain.

"Ouch. I'm obsessed with you too."

It's quiet for a while but it's not the awkward silence you're just enjoying each others company, your head on Buckys chest, you playing with his fingers.

"Thanks for the jacket doll. I'll wear it every day gotta show it off it's really cool."

And true to his word the next morning he wears the same jacket to work and Steve and Sam are all up in his business at 6 in the morning.

"Nice jacket where'd you get it?" Sam teases and Bucky does a turn to show it off.

"My girlfriend got it for me and she customised it."

"Someone is willingly spending time with you? I have to meet this brave soul"

"Shut up Sam."

[The end]

________________________________________

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

[sequinsmile-x]

Early Hours

She was sure she hadn't slept properly in years, but she wouldn't change her life for anything.

Emily and Aaron are woken up in the middle of the night by their children.

-x-

Hi friends,

I know four days isn't a long time in the grand scheme of things for someone not to post but it is a long time for me so am sorry about that. Not to be 'one of those' fic writers, but I have the mumps and up until today it was fully melting my brain and face, and now it's just slightly melting my face. So I can write again!

This is a belated birthday fic for the lovely @whitecrossgirl. So sorry this is a few days late, but I hope you like it. Thanks for always being such a hype woman and always being happy for me to write things that make you yell. Here's to another year of unhinged fics and yelling <3

Let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: none

Read over on AO3, or below the cut

Emily wakes up slowly, a luxury she hadn’t been afforded very often lately. 

She rolls from her side onto her back and sighs contentedly, arching her back as she stretches. It’s only when she winces at the ache in her breasts, the fullness of them, that her eyes fly open as she sits up, switching on the lamp on the nightstand as she desperately looks for the reason she’d barely slept recently - her two-week-old son. 

“Look, Elliot, Mommy is awake,” Aaron says quietly, and Emily turns to look at him, the momentary panic she’d felt over not having been woken up by her son’s hungry cries gone as soon as she lays eyes on them. Aaron is sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard, with Elliot lying against his chest, his palm wider than the baby’s back as he kept him securely against him. Elliot was awake, his eyes wide as he looked around, content in his father’s embrace.

“Hi sweet boy,” she says, leaning in to kiss Elliot’s head, taking a moment to breathe him in, before she kisses her husband, her lips catching the corner of his before he turns his head to kiss her properly. She smiles as she pulls back and pushes some of his hair from his forehead, her smile getting wider as he flops back down. He looked impossibly handsome like this, deliciously rumbled from sleep, relaxed in a way she would have once thought wasn’t possible for him, “Morning honey.” 

He kisses her again, the action lost as he presses a smile against her lips, “Morning,” he looks at the clock on the nightstand and smiles when he sees it’s 3 am, “It’s technically morning anyway.” 

She hums and kisses him one more time before she pulls back, placing her hand over his on their son’s back, “Is he okay? You could have woken me up.” 

Aaron can’t help it when his smile gets wider, her love for their children something that never fails to make him fall impossibly more in love with her. 

It was something that had started before they got together as he watched her with Jack, the little boy who would one day transition from calling her Emily to Mom. She was attentive with him, talked to him on his level, and never made him feel like he had less than all of her attention when he needed it. Jack had told Emily that he loved her before Aaron had, beating his father to the punch, and Aaron still felt guilty even all these years later about the flash of jealousy he’d felt leaning against his son’s bedroom doorframe as Emily repeated it back to him. 

It was that same evening when Aaron asked her out on a date, nerves bubbling in his belly in a way they hadn’t since high school and he’d asked Haley out. Emily had barely let him finish his question, pulling him into a hug and a soft kiss before she told him she’d been waiting for him to ask. 

She still made fun of him even now by bringing up the fact he’d asked her if that was a yes, as if the way she was pressed against him, the taste of her lips still lingering on his, wasn’t an answer in itself. 

His love of watching her be a mother, something he’d always known she’d excel at, only increased when she was pregnant with Lucas. She’d spent the entire pregnancy worried she wouldn’t be any good at it, that her mother’s lack of maternal instinct was genetic, and he’d constantly reassured her that she’d be amazing, that she already was with Jack. The moment she’d held Lucas against her chest for the first time, her hands shaking as adrenaline and hormones washed through her, he’d seen the unrelenting love on her face as she memorised the now two-year-old’s features, her knuckles trailing down his soft skin as she soothed him with nothing more than her quiet reassurances and touch. 

When they found out Elliot was going to be a boy too, he’d asked her if she was disappointed that they weren’t having a girl, both of them aware of the fact this would be their last baby. She’d simply smiled and ran her fingers through his hair, tears shining in her eyes as she told him it was clearly her lot to be surrounded by Hotchner boys, a fate she wouldn’t change for anything. 

“We were okay sweetheart,” he says, turning his attention to his youngest son, pressing a kiss to his dark hair, “Right buddy?” He looks back up at his wife and passes Elliot over, knowing from her demeanour, the way her fingers twitch at her sides, that she wanted him in her arms, “I think he just wanted to snuggle, and you needed some sleep.” 

She holds Elliot against her and kisses his head, “Daddy gives the best snuggles, huh Eli?” She says smiling as he immediately presses his face into her breasts, “Okay, I get it. You’re hungry.” 

She adjusts her hold on the newborn and undoes the top few buttons of her shirt, the one that used to belong to Aaron, and unclips one of the cups of her maternity bra. She winces a little as Elliot latches on, scrunching her nose up as she holds him to her. 

“It’s still hurting?” 

She hums gently and runs her hand over the back of Elliot’s head, “Less than before his tongue-tie procedure yesterday,” she says, blowing out a slow breath as she looks up at Aaron, her lips pressed together as she takes a second to try and regulate her emotions, “At least he won’t remember it.” 

Aaron wraps his arm around her shoulders and shifts closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he looks down at their son. 

It had been clear since the day Elliot was born that something was different than when she’d had Lucas. He didn’t ever seem to eat enough, he barely latched and would fall asleep the moment he did, and nursing hurt in a way Emily didn’t remember it hurting the first time around. It was only when he was a week and a half old that the paediatrician told them Elliot had a tongue tie. Emily had insisted on being in the room whilst it happened, not wanting to be away from her baby for any real period of time, and whilst Aaron thought it would be best to take the doctor’s advice to step out into the hallway he let her take the lead. He’d held her tightly against his chest, his arms firm around her middle as the doctor did the procedure in front of them. Elliot had cried, something they were reassured was more of an automatic reaction than a reaction to pain, and then he’d passed right over to Emily, only calming down when he was in his mother’s arms. 

“You both did really good yesterday,” he says, kissing her forehead again and she pulls back, her eyebrow raised in disbelief. 

“We both know if you hadn’t been there literally holding me back I would have knocked that doctor out,” she says, looking down at her son, sighing contentedly as he continues to feed, “Even though it seems to have helped.” 

“That’s because you’re his mom, sweetheart,” he says, hooking a finger under her chin to make her look up at him, stamping his lips against hers, “I’d call you a mama bear but, after you glared at Dave the one time he did, I won’t.” 

She chuckles, “That’s smart.” 

“I know,” he replies, his smile only getting bigger when hers does. Elliot grunts as he pulls away and both of his parents look down at him, his eyes drifting shut now he is done, “Looks like he’s full.”

Emily lifts Elliot and kisses his cheek before she settles him over her shoulder, rubbing her hand on his back, “Soon enough he’ll have the same appetite as his brothers,” she quips, “Good thing we have my trust fund otherwise we’d be screwed by the time they are teenagers.”

He laughs as he leans in and clips the cup of her bra back into place before he buttons her shirt up for her. She smiles at the gesture, the quiet way he always looked after her. At first, she’d found it suffocating. She’d struggled in the early days of their relationship with the unrelenting way he loved her, acts of service she’d never experienced from a partner before something she’d mistaken for control. She loved it now, loved how he looked after her, how he looked after their boys, and she couldn’t imagine life without it. 

Elliot breaks the silence by burping and it makes them both chuckle. Emily kisses his temple, “Good boy.” 

Aaron is about to offer to put him into his bassinet when the bedroom door opens, they both look over to see Lucas stepping into the room. He’s sleepy, his pjyamas rumbled and his dark hair a mess. His favourite toy, a stuffed frog that Penelope had given him, his hanging from his hand. 

“Mama? Daddy?” 

“Luke,” Aaron says quietly, “What’s wrong? You should be sleeping.” 

“I woke up,” he says, stepping closer to the bed, his gaze shifting to his younger brother half asleep on Emily, “I sleep here?” 

Aaron sighs and turns to look at his wife, his eyebrow raised as she smiles and shrugs. It had been a difficult transition for Lucas when it came to being a big brother. He’d found it hard to split his parent’s attention, especially Emily’s, with the baby and whilst they’d done everything they could to prepare him for his new sibling it was still an adjustment for all of them. 

More often than not these days he would find a reason to sneak into their bed in the middle of the night, and whilst Aaron was sure it was something they should discourage he was too tired to try and have that conversation with his wife. 

“Come on buddy,” he says, pulling the covers back so Lucas can join them in bed. The toddler runs over and climbs over Aaron to sit in between them, his attention immediately on his mother. 

“Hi Mama,” Lucas says, resting his head on the opposite shoulder to where Elliot was lying, “Was Eli hungry?” 

“Yes he was, sweet boy,” she replies, turning her head to kiss his cheek, doing it again when he giggles, “Once he’s asleep we’ll all try to get some sleep too.” 

Lucas nods and leans in closer to Elliot, his nose pressed against his, “We have fun later Eli, sleep now,” he says, kissing his brother’s forehead like he’d seen both his parents do countless times. 

Emily presses her lips together to stop herself from crying, the tenderness of the gesture enough to make tears press at the back of her eyes. 

“That’s so sweet, Lukey,” she says, exchanging a glance with her husband before she wraps an arm around the 2-year-old and pulls him closer, “You’re such a good big brother.” 

Lucas beams at her, his smile the one she hopes Elliot will have too, and he leans into her, “Need to be like Jack.” 

Emily kisses his head one more time and she tilts her head to look down at Elliot, sighing gratefully when he’s asleep, “Looks like it worked, baby, he’s asleep now.” 

“I’ll set him down,” Aaron says, already climbing out of bed and rounding it to gently ease the baby out of her arms, “You two stay there and settle down.” 

She doesn’t argue with him, she simply nods before kissing her son’s head before she relinquishes her hold on him, “Night, Eli.” 

“Night Eli,” Lucas repeats, slipping further into Emily’s embrace as she shifts to lay down, content to wrap himself around her as he rests his head on her chest, “Love you, Mama.” 

She pulls him closer and rubs her hand up and down his back. She never got used to how it felt when her children told her that they loved her. It was something she never wanted to take for granted, something she knew she never would take for granted. 

“Love you too, sweetie,” she says, pressing her face into his hair to breathe him in. She smiles at Aaron as he climbs back into his side and he lays down next to them, hooking his arm over the both of them. Emily’s smile gets wider and she leans into Lucas, the little boy already getting sleepy, “We love Daddy too, huh?” 

Lucas nods and turns over to look at Aaron, reaching over and patting his cheek, giggling as Aaron makes a show of turning his head and kissing his palm, “Love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, Lukey.” 

Emily feels warmth spread through her chest at the sight of them together. Every single thing she’d been through was worth it for this, for the simple ordinary life she never thought she’d get. She wouldn’t change it for anything, and wouldn’t want to miss a moment of any of it.

Even the long early hours of the morning when sleep seemed like an impossibility. 

“We should get some sleep,” Aaron says, as if reading her mind as he reaches over and ruffles Lucas’s hair, “Elliot will probably wake us all up again in an hour or so.” 

Lucas’s response is cut off as the bedroom door opens again and Jack walks in, tears shining on his face as he scratches his head as he shuffles further into the room. 

“Everything okay, Jack?” Emily asks softly, sitting up and resting her elbow on the bed. He shakes his head and sniffs.

“I had a bad dream,” he says, almost seeming embarrassed that he had, as if being almost 9 years old meant he should have outgrown it.

Aaron immediately shifts further away from Lucas and Emily, making space between them as he pulls back the covers, “Come on, buddy. We have room for one more.” 

Jack doesn’t need to be told twice, and he climbs into the bed with his parents and his little brother, contently sighing as he snuggles up against his father. 

“You ‘kay Jack?” Lucas asks, patting his cheek gently, and Jack nods.

“I’m okay, Luke,” he assures him, laying his arm over him and Emily, smiling when Emily holds his hand. 

“We need sleep,” Lucas says seriously, “Eli will wake up soon.” 

They all chuckle and Aaron reaches over to switch the lamp off, laying his arm over his family as he holds them close. He falls asleep content in the knowledge that they were safe and happy, and that he’d lived up to the promise he’d made to Haley. 

Elliot wakes them all up just over an hour later, and Emily feeds him again, content as she sits surrounded by her Hotchner boys. 

-x-

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[imactuallyreallycool]

Hey, can you do byler if they were pirates? Idk I just thought of that and I thought it would be cute in your art style lol 💞

My Pirate Byler idea

(Definitely going to do some more designs) they probably be more cute :)

Little story points behind the image lol (some this is dark ig so read with caution ig (I don’t go into any details)) (if you want to make a fan fic based on this you have full permission to use anything :) ) (also I haven’t read any pirate au fanfics so sorry if I stole ideas without knowing)

- William was kidnapped (sold by Lonnie 😭😭😭 idk) by/to Henry at the age of 12 and 7 years later (so he’s 19 now) he was finally able to escape

- He found a ship to get on to and was in the middle of cutting his hair when Michael found him

- Michael Wheeler or Michael the Disheartened (I just wanted to use the word heart somehow in his name lol) is the Pirate Captain of this ship with a crew of 5 (Lucas, Jane, Erica, Max and Dustin)

- Michael’s eye was taken away from him as punishment for his ✨homosexual thoughts✨ or his “wandering eye” if you will :/ and therefore banished from his home at the age of 16 (he still keeps in contact with Nancy and Holly in secret)

- William’s hand was also a punishment/warning for him. Henry thought he was painting too much and not studying enough (idkkkkk)

- Brenner and Henry are bitter rivals (both kidnapping kids for experiments ig)

- Jane has magic :) and so does Henry :/ (maybe will does too idk)

- Jane was kidnapped as a baby (by Brenner) because she showed signs of having magic

- William wants to find his family while Michael wants to take down the evil government (the some government that took his eye ig)

-Henry’s Curse (basically birthday gate), nobody can remember William from before the day that he got kidnapped and William’s memory is a bit foggy too but remembers his mother, his brother and maybe there was a boy… his best friend?

- Michael swears their was a boy he was friends with when he was younger, he thinks they meet at a swing that hung on a tree… he just can’t remember his name.

- So the image above is their second first meeting lol

- Michael warms up to this stranger, strangely fast for some reason, it usually takes him months or years to start trusting someone 🤔🤔🤔

-William becomes a part of his crew obviously

Anyway those were just a few ideas that I was thinking about, I have some ideas for the origins for the other characters (mainly the crew (the party))

Sorry if this was hard to read/understand lol

Couple of close ups

Mike’s face is probably my favourite part :)

[euphoricimagination]

Part 3: The first selection keeps going on after your match with Barou, its time for the match between Team Z vs Team Y

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 -> Masterlist

You go back to the dorms quite late, already cleaned and changed. Luckily since the sweatshirts were quite oversized you were able to get away with a normal sports bra instead of the binder, so you felt much more comfortable.

When you enter the dorm you saw them all of them sitting, the futons already open, while they talk about their weapons

"Okay, Isagi-kun is thinking, Chigiri?" Kuon says as he writes in his notebook, you sit down next to Chigiri when he answers

"Don't wanna say" says, hugging his knees in a sad manner

"What the hell? Let's just leave the selfish princess alone and move on" says Raichi before looking at you "You, what's your weapon?"

"Eh…I'll say speed and shooting" you say

"Ok, then I'll write you down Yn-kun; anyway, by thinking on our…"

"Oi" you hear Chigiri whisper "What took you so long? I rolled out your futon"

"I stayed a bit longer in the water, it felt good after today. And thanks"

"Did you have dinner?" Chigiri asks again

"Yeah, i did, i wanted to eat al-"

"Well go with ‘Operation: me next 9’" you hear Kuon say out loud, a plan that focuses on all of you changing formations every 10 minutes.

You look at Chigiri confused, nine? If Iemon was going to play goalie again then it would be dangerous to rotate so he gets his time, so it was understable he wasn't counted, but was Chigiri also not counted in it?

"You alright with that?" You ask the red hair boy

"Yeah, I don't want to be at the front anyways. I rather leave that spot to you"

"Why?"

"You're fast and have a lot of good techniques, besides, I get the feeling that you're not taking this seriously yet" he gives you a small smirk, he was partially right, you couldn't stand out much if you wanted to help the others, no matter how much you want to.

"Don't regret it later though" you say as you get ready to sleep, laying down in the futon

"I don't think i will"

The next few days were full of practice, in which everyone was learning how to work as a team. Even though clearly they didn't think of each other as a real team yet, everyone was learning to suck up their pride every once in a while, all because if you lose, everyone's soccer life is over.

As you finish your dinner you see Isagi sitting alone in one table, clearly thinking hard about something

"Oi" you call him, sitting next to him

"Yn-kun"

"What are you thinking about?"

"Eh? No-nothing"

"C'mon, I can practically see the cogs trying to move in your head" you say, making him frown

"What if…if I don't have what it takes to be a striker?" he asks you, the words of Ego quickly replaying in your head: you need to help them figure it out.

"You do, otherwise you wouldn't be here, don't you think?"

"But I don't have a weapon of my own like you do, or like Bachira, or anyone" he says looking down

"You remember the pass that you gave me in that match? Which by the way, thanks for that"

"I do, what about it though?" he asks confused

"You said that it was unconscious, you just felt that i could make that goal at that time. You sensed that it was a perfect timing and a perfect position, not everyone can do that, you know?"

"But how is that going to help me? I didn't even meant to happen"

"That's what you need to figure it out by yourself" you say standing up, going to use the point that you had to take a steak out of the machine

"Steak?!" Says Isagi, his mouth watering. From the corner of your eye you can see Kunigami coming to the table too

"Goal Bonus" you say as you cut a piece for yourself and try it "Isagi, humans can work their unconscious habits to make them conscious. Hey Kunigami"

"Hey Yn-kun, Isagi-kun" says the orange hair as he sits down in front of you, eyeing your steak. Isagi was looking at you still confused "Chigiri was looking for you Yn"

"Okay, I'll go to see him then" you cut the steak in half, moving it to the middle of the two before standing up "here, eat it"

"Eh?! But it's your reward!" Exclaims Isagi as Kunigami also looks at you incredulous

"I wanted to try it, but I'm not a big fan of meat. I rather you two eat it than throwing it away" you say as you start to walk away

"Yn-kun!" Isagi calls you, making you turn around "Why do you play soccer? You're so fast and your shots are really powerful, you have things I don't, so why do you play?"

"Easy, it's fun to challenge myself" you shrugged, waving at them before leaving. It was a true and simple answer, but it was hopefully enough to make him notice that challenging his abilities could be fun; after all, if you could play soccer against these boys while being a girl, he can become aware of his true weapon.

+++

Soon enough it's time for the next match, Team Y versus Team Z.

"Just like us, it's game over for then if they lose" you say adjusting your clothes

"The one to watch out for is the number nine, Hibiki Okawa" says Kuon as you all gather around forming a circle "All we can do is bring out what we practice. We will win even if it kills us, Team Z!!"

"Yeah!"

The first ten minutes belonged to Bachira, however he's unable to do anything, making it time for Kunigami to try to score. Somehow Team Y is able to stop Kunigami not once, but twice and are able to counterattack thanks to their number 7, gaining a goal as well.

You're in the halftime, as usual some of the team is fighting about something dumb like they usually do, something about Chigiri questioning if the plan will really work like that; however, nothing everyone decided to keep the plan as it is otherwise everything will fall apart

"I was just saying…" Chigiri mumbles

"I kind of agree with you" you mumble back to Chigiri "but it's too late to do something now"

"Yeah, I get that"

After that you all go back to the match, and while Team Y is trying to guard the ball by keep passing to each other. As they were passing to each other you decided to just try to gain some control so the rest could at least gain some confidence, so you lunged forward with a higher speed that you haven't shown in any other match. You were able to intercept the ball, but since the other player was near you, you had to flick the ball to the other side as you quickly changed direction, confusing Team Y.

Luckily, you had shown your team some of these plays while training, not at the exact same speed or precision, but enough for them to react in time. That's when you saw Gagamaru, running parallel to where you are, so you pass it to him slightly too far so his weapon could be useful and almost gaining a goal.

"That was amazing Yn!" Bachira comes to you and gives a high five, as he prepares to do the corner shot "wasn't that a bit long though? You never made that mistake before"

"I'm not perfect, Bachira, besides Gagamaru is like a spring, he could get that" you say as Bachira laughs, if he only knew that it was part of your job to make everyone else shine…

You go to gather around with both teams in front of the goal for the corner kick when you notice Isagi was thinking about something, probably their number 7, Niko, who seems to be the one making the big plays. Isagi wasn't going to be useful here if he hesitated, so you did what you thought was best

"Isagi, trust yourself!" you tell him at the same time Bachira kicks, making him nod as he runs away from the group and towards Niko.

Their goalie was able to hit the ball away just in time, sending it towards Niko, however Isagi is able to get in the way and trap the ball. He effectively runs towards the goal again, shooting for a goal when one member of Team Y intercepts him, almost making it go out if it wasn't for Gagamaru, who miraculously hits the ball right on the edge of the court and makes a goal, ending up with Gagamaru hitting the post.

"Damn, that was cool" you mutter to yourself, impressed at the athletic skill that was just displayed.

The minutes keep passing, neither team being able to score a goal, making a tie until the last minute, when all of team Y start a counterattack, everyone running towards our goal. And since our team put too many players on attack, the formation on defense is way too weak. No matter how fast you can run, you were on the other side of the court, so there was no way you could properly be able to reach your own goal on time to stop the ball. Team Y is able to pass everyone in your team, now Niko being face to face to Iemon, a true one to one between them; however, at the last second he changes to a pass to Okawa, a pass that nobody was able to read…except for Idaho.

Just when you thought everything was over for you and your team, Isagi is able to catch the ball right before Okawa can touch it. He has started to read the plays of other players and predict where the ball was going to end up. You instinctively start running to the other side, towards the goal of Team Y, you see the ball reaching you soon after by Isagi's pass, so you jump to trap it right before the other team could even reach you. You were able to pass them for a few meters, but since they were down to do everything to try to stop you, you had no other option than to pass it to Kunigami. Kunigami is also able to pass away some other players; however, he's also forced to pass it to Bachira, who dribbles past more players before passing the ball again. At first you thought it was a low pass for Gagamaru, who still tries to reach the ball by jumping towards it, but instead it goes directly to Isagi. You were still running towards the goal just in case something happens, so you were able to see Isagi's form and eyes, almost being able to see a big aura around him as he shoots, making the goal at the last second, Team Z winning 2 - 1.

You see some of the team hug and congratulate Isagi as the speakers officially announce your team victory. You were breathing hard as you high five Kunigami.

"Hey, Yn, good pass, that was an amazing run" Kunigami says to you

"Thanks, I wished I could have done more though"

"Same here, but we did the best we could"

You high five Bachira in the same manner, however this passes his arms around your shoulders

"That was a great trap, Yn-kun!" He says ruffling your hair, a habit he developed ever since you two became close, since you were shorter than him

"Thanks, your dribbling was awesome too, it definitely comes natural to you" you say as you go back to the lockers.

Everyone was hyped up after winning, the lockers becoming a small celebratory place. You were taking your vest off when you noticed a small piece of paper in your bag, a rushed "Ego-san is waiting for you" written on it with a key for the stairs, clearly by Anri considering how well hidden it was. As the excitement calmed down, the team decided to go to take a bath, everyone starting to leave at the same time; you had no option but to follow them for a while, slowly trying to stay behind them without being noticed.

"Yn?" Chigiri calls you as he turns around, so you pretend to look for something in your bag "you coming?"

"Shit, i forgot my towel in the lockers" you say trying to not freak out "go ahead, I'll join later"

"...okay, don't take too long" says Chigiri, looking at you with a confused frown, you could just hope that he wasn't suspecting much.

You pretend to walk towards the lockers as you make sure that Chigiri had enter to the bathroom, soon changing directions to the door that had a 'staff only' written on it, you used the key and find the same stairs Anri had guided you the first time, so you follow them until you arrived to Ego's apartment, knocking as you enter.

"Yn-chan, come in" the man greets you, you bow to Anri as you sit down in front of him "Well done today winning"

"Thanks sir, what did you need me for?"

"I wanted to know if you noticed the same thing I saw"

"The last point by Isagi-kun?" Ego nods, as his grin get wider and wider, looking kind of creepy "I did, he was clearly only thinking of scoring, he also seemed to understand more about his instincts now"

"I'm guessing you gave him the hint?"

"I just tried to give him another perspective, he used to think that that pass was nothing special, I told him that it was. Maybe playing with Niko helped him too"

"Still, well done for that. You also helped Gagamaru show his talent, was it on purpose?"

"I did send it a little long, yes" you answer

"Well, good job on that too" he says, uncharacteristically positive. He then interlocks his fingers, looking at you with a more serious expression than before "However, I hope you remember that you can't shine too brightly, if I didn't know better I would think that you were trying to score yourself"

"I…you don't have to worry, sir" you gulped

"Okay, you can leave now" you stand up, going to the door

"Sir" you call him right before leaving "I have to ask you to stop calling me here after a match, I'll run out of excuses soon"

You leave before hearing his answer, going down the stairs and locking up again. You went to the bathroom area and noticed that luckily it was empty, so you quickly took a shower and changed before going back to the dorms.

"CHEERS!" you hear as you step in, some tables arranged in the middle of the room with a mix of foods on them, including two steaks that you assume were exchange for goal points

"There you are Yn!" Says Bachira coming to hug you, you notice that Chigiri was looking at you, he probably noticed how long it took you to come back here “We’re celebrating! Come eat!”

“Eh? I didn’t brought my food though, sorry”

“It’s okay, we have plenty” Kuon says as he pass you some chopsticks, some of the others were fighting about the steak “If we need more food we’ll send you for yours”

“Oka-”

“Yn-kun, say ahhhhh” Bachira says as his hand reaches out to you, offering you a dumpling. You laugh at him with a raised eyebrow, but still follow his instructions and open your mouth

“I can’t believe how fast your reflexes are Yn” Kunigami starts saying, looking at you both weird “you not only intercept them multiple times today, but you also reacted just on time when Isagi catch the ball and send it to you”

“You also send me a good pass, thanks” adds Gagamaru

“Yn-kun, that trap of the ball at the last minute was amazing too, how you were able to pass between so many players” says Isagi

“Well, that one was mainly because you catch it before the other team, I just ran and hoped you passed it to me” you add quite embarrassed at the amount of compliments they were giving you, you definitely weren't used to that

“Still, without that i don't know if we could have counterattack”

“Thanks, Isagi, you were definitely able to read that play though, well done” you say trying to change the subject, which worked well considering how now everyone was praising Isagi and his ability to ‘smell the goal’. You ate as you watch them talk about the match, Bachira trying to give food to Isagi as well, as you keep thinking; it felt nice playing such a high stake match; it felt nice being the receiver of so many compliments about how good you were, specially considering you were always told that you were too hard to play against and that it wasn’t fun anymore when you tried to play with the girls soccer team at your school; it felt good being recognized by people who were also passionate about the sport, but you couldn’t take it too personal. This wasn’t the reason you were here, you had to help them shine, not shine yourself, but it feels like your own ego was starting to appear.

You stand up and go to sit next to Chigiri, who was alone against a wall, to get away from the loud ones for a while

"You sure took your sweet time coming here" he says looking at the chaos in front

"The water felt nice" you answer back

"I can't blame you, the match was intense" he looks at you and pats your head "you did amazing today"

"Thanks" you say not looking at him, worried that you would blush more than you already were. You're supposed to be a dude, get your act together "I wanted to score once though"

"I bet, everyone here wants to. I will say you were a major part on the two goals though"

"What about you, Chigiri, don't you want to score too?" You ask him, bringing out his potential was part of your job, but you actually cared about him too

"I…don't want to talk about that" he says, looking away

"C'mon, aren't we friends? I won't judge you" you say, making him look at you indecisive

"...fine, but let's go somewhere else" he says standing up, everyone else seems to be getting ready to sleep, arranging their futons accordingly. You two went to the media room, in where you could watch the replays of the matches, and sat in front of the TV, you following him behind. You turn the TV on, the match bringing some light into the room.

"Do you really want to know?" He asks you, focusing on his face on the screen

"Yeah, I can't help you otherwise"

"Why would you want to help me?" He raises his eyebrow, looking at you

"You're my friend, I want you to enjoy this too" he sighs, almost grinning at you

"A year ago I tore my ACL in my right knee, and if i damage it again, i won't be able to play ever again" he looks at the floor "I was fast, faster than you even, but now…now I'm scared to get injured again"

"Then why did you even come here? You knew what you were getting into, right?" You ask, you can see some hurt in his eyes, however, he just chuckles

"You're straightforward, huh? Yes, I knew, I came here to give up my dream. You might be a huge help to do that, same as Isagi after that goal of his"

"Don't say that, don't make ME the reason you want to give up. Tell me, do you really want to give up? Do you like soccer?"

"I do, but there's no point in m-"

"Then keep trying, don't do something you might regret later" you grab him by his shoulders, by the corner of your eyes you can see the door opening slowly, but you decided to ignore it "if you are going to stop playing because of an injury, then at least stop when you get injured again, not just because you're afraid"

"You don't understand Yn, don't get cocky with me" he says angry

"No, i don't understand why you want to give up without even trying again! What? You think you're the only player that has to go through things? The only one that gets injured? No, you aren't, but the others aren't cowards that stop doing something they love just because they're scared" you say angry as well, standing up and leaving the room

Sure, you may have exaggerated a little, but in the heat of the moment all just came out, after all he clearly likes the sport to come to this place in the first place. You close the door behind you, noticing Isagi standing there, hesitating whether entering or not

"Go in" you say simply

"But you and Chigiri…"

"You can talk to him if you're worried" you say passing him "well played today Isagi, your spatial awareness is developing nicely"

"My what..?" You hear him ask, however you were already leaving; maybe you shouldn't have told Isagi so directly, but the sudden weight of the fight was starting to appear in your shoulders, tired of so many boys without proper thinking cells in their bodies. You would think about that tomorrow.

[silverynight]

A charming witch

Part I (of 3)

When he was a little kid, Izuku summoned a demon by accident; he's not sure how it happened and his mother never explained it in detail, but all he knows is that the demon looked like a kid too and that he tried to bite Izuku's neck.

Fortunately, he didn't, but it made Izuku chose a more peaceful path when it came to practicing sorcery and magic.

Now he practices green magic and he has a little store in the middle of the village where he sells potions for all kinds of trouble and illnesses. The good thing is that flowers and plants are a very safe way to do magic. No demons involved.

There are other types of witches who deal with dark magic and summon demons (or banish them) for all kinds of purposes.

Izuku is happy with his potions and herbs; he certainly doesn't need anything else.

But that doesn't mean that trouble doesn't find his way to his doorstep anyways.

***

Izuku has a friend named Uraraka, she's a witch too, but she deals with more powerful magic; however, sometimes she needs a couple of potions and that's how she ends up in Izuku's little shop most of the time when she finds herself in the village.

That particular day she walks in with a demon; the demon is all pink and keeps smiling and looking around in awe like a very curious child.

Izuku knows not all demons are dangerous or seek to eradicate human kind and yet he gets a little bit startled when he finally sees her.

"Sorry!" He blushes when the demon squeaks in delight; she's bonded to Uraraka by magic so she has to go wherever the witch goes, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"You were right," the demon grins at Uraraka, staring at Izuku with interest. "He's such a cutie."

Uraraka rolls her eyes, but looks mostly amused.

"This is Ashido Mina, the demon I summoned to assist me for a while. In exchange, she gets to see our world because for some reason she likes it."

"I do!" Ashido smiles, prompting Izuku to finally relax around her. "It's like being on vacation! And trust me it's better here at the moment because Blasty has been insufferable for the last few years... He's pining..."

"Blasty?" Izuku mumbles in confusion, not entirely sure he wants the answer to that question.

"My boss, the demon king," Ashido explains, like it's not a big deal.

Izuku nods and offers them both a cup of tea; the shop is quiet that day so he can spend time with his friend and her demon.

"I don't smell other demons on you," Ashido observes after a while.

"I don't summon demons," Izuku says calmly, a little bit amused by Ashido's surprised expression. It's fair since most of the witches have summoned one at least once in their lives.

His own mother did once and it ended up with her having a baby and being abandoned years later, which was not a good experience. But Izuku doesn't like to talk about that and he doesn't think any of them are interested in that.

"Why not?"

"His blood can only summon very powerful demons apparently," Uraraka says, surprising Izuku who looks at her in confusion. "Your mother explained it to me once. No matter the symbol he writes, his blood immediately summons another completely different."

Ashido puts a hand under her chin, like she's deep in thought; Izuku gets a little bit distracted by her horns and wonders if it'd be rude of him to get out his notebook and start taking notes about her.

"That's... interesting," she comments after a while. "Are you an omega?"

"A what?"

"Mina, I told you humans are not like that," Uraraka says, like she's had that conversation before. "We don't have a second gender."

"Like betas?"

"No... well, yes, just like them."

"What are you talking about?" The green haired witch asks, as curiosity and excitement make him forget about politeness.

"Demons have secondary genders," Uraraka tells him, chuckling when Izuku's eyes glimmering with curiosity and excitement. She's never seen another witch so hungry for knowledge.

"We can be alphas, omegas or betas," Ashido cuts in, happy to talk about her kind. "Alphas and omegas usually make good couples, but there are all kinds of them."

Izuku listens with undivided attention and finally makes his notebook appear because that's just so fascinating to miss.

"Wait," he cuts her off, immediately feeling terrible about interrupting, knowing he's probably blushing to the tip of his ears at the moment. "You mentioned something about bites earlier, what did you mean?"

"Instead of getting married, like humans do," Ashido says. "Demons mark their partners with a mating bite; it has to be done on the scent glands, which are on our necks."

The information unlocks a couple of memories in Izuku's brain that he didn't know he had up until now.

There's a blond demon with red horns and red eyes that looks like a kid and is telling Izuku that he needs to bite his neck immediately.

"The demon I summoned tried to bite my neck, that's why my mom got scared..."

"Was he a pup when that happened?" Ashido moves closer, eyes shining with excitement. "I mean the demon, was he a pup?"

"A pup?"

"She means a little kid."

"Oh. Yeah."

"A blond gremlin with piercing red eyes? Very bossy for his age?"

"Uhh... something like that," Izuku mumbles, having a very bad feeling about where the conversation is heading already.

"Are you Deku?" She says excitedly. "I can't believe I found the famous Deku!"

"My name is Midoriya Izuku actually," he corrects her, having the feeling that he has heard someone else call him that before.

"This is amazing!" Ashido squeaks in delight. "Blasty's ridiculous longing will finally come to an end! We need to summon him!"

"Blasty as in the king of the demons?" Uraraka quirks up a brow at her demon friend.

"Yes!"

"No," Uraraka and Izuku utter at the same time, shaking their heads. The pink demon starts pouting.

"Why not?"

"That's a very powerful demon, I won't be able to control him if he decides to do something," Uraraka replies, earning another pout from Ashido.

The demon even rolls her eyes at them.

"Alright, listen. I know he looks like a gremlin who's constantly angry at his own existence, but he'd never harm his Deku."

"My name is Izuku," he corrects her again. Suddenly, another one of his memories unlocks. "Are you talking about Kacchan?"

Both girls (the demon and the witch) stare at him like he just said something in another language.

"His name is Bakugo Katsuki, but I think I heard him mention something like that to Kiri... you used to call him that, right?"

"I..." Izuku starts feeling weird out of the sudden. He's dizzy. "I don't know."

He gets closer to the main cabinet behind the counter and takes one of the potions he makes for himself. Ashido grabs one of his arms to get his attention and Izuku gets a glimpse of a very tall and muscular blond demon sitting on a throne with a permanent scowl upon his face.

He doesn't have visions like his grandmother did, so it's weird for him to see things like that and it's even more puzzling and confusing when he gets the impression that the demon stares back at him for a brief moment.

"Deku?"

Instinctively, he shakes Ashido's hand away and takes a few steps back.

"Alright, that's enough," Uraraka takes the pink demon's hand to lead her towards the exit. "It's time to go."

"Wait! At least give him a chance!" Ashido pleads. "He won't hurt you, I promise!"

"It's a dangerous practice for someone who has never done that before, like me," Izuku explains, besides, he can't believe the demon king is the same as the little bossy demon who tried to bite him once. She must be mistaken.

He gives Uraraka the potions she had commissioned a couple of weeks ago and decides to close the shop early that day because he feels so very tired suddenly.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Ashido."

"Same, cutie." She sighs, before waving at him. "Although I still believe you should summon him."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

***

Next--->

Patreon

[gatitties]

Not in my world

─ Strawhats, Heart Pirates & Kid Pirates x isekaed!student!reader

─ Summary: you find yourself in a totally different world and trying to adjust

─ Warnings: none

Part two / Part three (Kid Pirates)

─ Then, you were comfortably asleep in your bed, completely passed out from studying so much for the exam you had tomorrow, however, surprise! out of nowhere you were on a boat with a rubber guy, a thief, a guy with moss on his head, a lovesick cook, a reindeer, an archaeologist, a liar, a cyborg and a living skeleton.

─ Screams and screams, confused on your part, scared on the part of Nami, Chopper, Ussop and Luffy… he just joined in the screams because they were all screaming and he wanted to too.

─ It took you a good week to assimilate that you weren't in your world, but you got over it thinking about the end of exams, the stress and the panic of losing your scholarship, you were literally like "I'd rather be a pirate than do my homework on integrals and derivatives."

─ Although it was hard to get used to all that stuff about pirates, marines… there was a lot of history behind it that you didn't understand but just keep going, you've still been lucky to have the best team on your side.

─ Luffy would ask a lot of stupid things about your world, God bless you because the boy was completely taking patience away from you, "Yes Luffy, for the tenth time, we poop just like you, stop asking the same question."

─ Zoro stood on the sidelines, just looking at you as if you were going to stab them in the back, while you looked at him and said "sir, calm down a bit, I can barely walk without tripping over my own feet."

─ Nami would be glad to have another bath partner, the only bad thing for her is that you had no money to go into debt with, so for now you were on her good side.

─ Ussop began to be your faithful friend, like Nami and Chopper on some occasions, you added to his ranks as one more scared, although you certainly had good reasons to be more scared than them.

─ Chopper got very worried when he noticed your irregular hours of sleep, you explained to him that it was all part of your school schedule and that it would take you time to change it.

─ Just like you had shitty sleep schedules, your eating schedules went hand in hand, Sanji thought you were worse than Luffy, not because of the amount you ate, but because of the hours you ate, he always scolded you when in the middle of the night he found you in the kitchen, as if you had never been fed in your life.

─ You were closer to Robin, there was something in her that screamed 'motherhood', something that reminded you of your mother and made you see her as one, so every time she spoke to you or explained things of this world, your mind simply writhed thinking, you would end up crying later that night.

─ The one you looked at the most carefully was Franky because what the hell is going on with his hair? You spend hours looking at his hair, wondering what physical laws apply to stay like this or how much damn hairspray he spends in a day.

─ Well, your first impression with Brook was that you had taken drugs or something (same with Chopper tbh). Skeletons aren't supposed to talk in your world, but anyway, over time and after a few punches for his insinuations towards your underwear, you ended up liking his music a lot, you end up asking him to play songs from your world, trying to make them similar.

─ You were running down the street because you were going to be late for your psychology class, not paying attention to the 'cut off for construction' signs so you ended up falling down a sewer and the fall was too long, long enough to give you time to assimilate that you were no longer in your world.

─ Your theories were confirmed when you landed on top of a poor bear, but hey, at least the fall was less painful.

─ Bepo and you shared silent glances until you both spoke at the same time, "Sorry!" "Wait why are you apologizing? One second HOW CAN YOU TALK?" "I'M SORRY!" "DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR THAT!" No, you definitely have to have been high to understand the class you were going to and having a bad experience.

─ Unfortunately no, it was worse than taking drugs, you were in another world, one full of dangers and pirates, no, no, you weren't going through that, you were too tired to assimilate it.

─ The first time you see Law he almost cuts you in half if it weren't for Bepo, you already adored this bear. You had to stay inside the Polar Tang because unfortunately they were on a route in the middle of nowhere.

─ "So now there are two depressive whores in a submarine" you muttered giving the captain of the ship a last look while he left you in a room to talk to the others.

─ The good part, no boring classes, the bad part, what are you supposed to do locked up here? Law didn't trust you so most of the time you had someone on top of you watching you.

─ Your saviors were Penguin and Sachi, they had that energy of idiots who share half a neuron that made you amused, oh, you would cause Law so many headaches for doing so many nonsense with these two men. "Who the hell put bread in my food?!"

─ You didn't have anything fun to do and now… you can assemble your body like it's a puzzle for annoying the captain.

─ Ikkaku and you didn't take long to connect, being the only two women in the cold submarine, you found in her someone to turn to if the change of environment overloaded you at times, because yes, you liked to collapse thinking about your old life when you were alone.

─ Definitely the reason why Law didn't throw you in the middle of the sea or abandon you on some random island was because Ikkaku liked you and he also felt a little sorry for you, so a little more help in the Polar Tang never hurts.

─ Just when you were going over a bridge you decided to take a look, the water moved calmly many meters below you, your intrusive thoughts "jump in and finish all the shit from the studies" while your reasonable part "no, not yet you are young, this is just a small stone in your way."

─ You got rid of all thoughts but oops… someone careless who was riding a bike pushed you enough for your body to fall into the void, well, it seemed that someone had chosen for you.

─ You expected to die at least, hey, you didn't have to go through all the stress, but you definitely didn't think of ending up in another world, falling directly into a ship, strangely you didn't cause any injuries but…

─ "Who the hell are you!?" A deranged redhead grabbed you by the collar of your shirt looking at you as if he was going to bite your throat out. You were scared to death "Is this hell? I knew I shouldn't have cheated on tests."

─ Killer prevented Kid from killing you at that precise moment by indirectly calling him a demon.

─ "I'll throw you overboard you damn brat" In fact, that sounded pretty good after discovering simple things about this world and its brutalities, "bro, I'll throw myself overboard" someone had already pushed you off a bridge, you were ready to die so you didn't care much.

─ "What the hell are you two doing?" Killer just watches as you prepare to jump into the sea while his friend laughs at your stupid bravery. Yes, the blond prevented your possibly second death that day.

─ You find yourself spending more time with Killer because he seems like a mother and you miss yours, he was the most 'understanding' with your situation.

─ Kid just used you to do all the shit work that nobody wanted to do, since you were on his ship you weren't going to sit idly by. But he ended up making you overexert yourself with some things.

─ This caused Heat to see your first stress attack in this world, oh lord, he didn't know what to do when he saw you shaking and crying while pulling some of your hair strands too hard. He just gave you an awkward hug hoping you would stop crying.

─ They found out the hard way that you weren't good at dealing with situations under pressure, you stuck a fork in Wire's hand because they were pestering you at dinner with so many questions and teasing about your world.

─ Kid began to worry when he saw you trying to blow your brains out with one of his guns, at first he thought you were a stupid reckless, but the truth is that you were just a depressed student.

─ He decided that you could stay with them as long as you were not a 'nuisance', the thing is that they ended up becoming fond of you, especially Killer, now you were like his child and he was taking care of you whether you wanted it or not since you will never know when you will return to your old life.

[hllfireclb]

Imagine Eddie catching you with your glasses on!!!

Why I am thinking about this? Because I wear glasses myself but I hate them sometimes. I don’t want to wear them outside but I have to because if I don’t I literally don’t see anything that far away. Funfact: when I‘ve met Grace, Joe, Gaten and Jamie at the GCC in December they said the loved my hair and glasses and that‘s the only reason I‘m ok with wearing them outside🥹🥹 Grace even took a picture of me because she said I looked cute and one day later we had the same hair cut💔

ANYWAY I imagining it like this:

You‘re never wearing your glasses outside. Never. If someone would see you with them you‘d dig your own grave because it would be so embarrassing for you. It just doesn’t fit into the whole "you“ concept. Always wearing black, looking like a Rockerchick, just matching with your boyfriend Eddie all the time. If you’d wear your glasses which have a slight golden frame, just to see what‘s written on the board, everyone would probably laugh at you. Not like you care what others think but you‘re afraid that your friends will laugh about it too. They love to tease you, so they‘d definitely tease you about you wearing glasses too.

The "Rockerchick" has to wear glasses, how funny.

And your biggest fear? Eddie finding out that you literally can’t see shit and he starts to make fun of you. Or even worse, what if he thinks you look stupid?

Eddie‘s probably the last person to judge someone because of their look. Especially if the other person is someone who’s important to him, and you definitely are. You know that but the fear of not being perfect for him is too big. So you just keep it your little secret.

One day you‘re lying in your bed, wearing nothing but one of Eddie’s tees and your panties since you’re home alone. A book lingers between your hands, you’re adjusting your glasses on top of you’re nose and you‘re about to turn to the next page when you hear a knock on your window. Mindlessly you turn your head to look at whoever decided to visit you in the middle of the night, completely forgetting that you had your glasses on. That’s until you see your boyfriend’s surprised face on the other side of the glass. Fuck.

It doesn’t take you a second to pull them off your face, throwing them somewhere into the bed before jumping out of it. You walk over to the window, letting your boyfriend climb inside before closing the curtains. "Eddie it’s literally 2am! Why are you here?" You look at him but he doesn’t respond. Instead he walks to your bed and picks up the "Accessoire" that was lingering on your nose just a few seconds ago.

You freeze. He definitely saw you wearing them, there‘s no way he didn’t. You were directly looking at him. Fuck fuck fuck.

"Are these…are these yours?" He looks up at you, still holding your glasses between his fingers,making eye contact which causes you to feel your cheeks burn like fire. His voice is calm, there‘s no judgement in it all only curiosity. A soft sigh escapes your lips and you slowly nod. "Why did you never tell me that you wear glasses Sweetheart?" He laughs softly and you can see how he lifts his hands up to his face, before putting your visual aid on his own nose, testing if he‘s able to see through them like a curious child. Now you‘re the one who‘s laughing softly, answering with a soft nod only.

He puts them down again as he walks over to you before he puts your glasses back on your face, a soft smile forms on his lips while doing so. "You look adorable with them y/n" his voice is barely above a whisper. "You think so?" You whisper back at him, your eyes closed because of how embarrassed you feel. He nods yes "Hell yeah. Even though they also look badass on you" he grins as he places a soft kiss on top of your nose, causing another chuckle to escapes your lips.

Turns out Eddie loves your glasses. He thinks they fit you so goddamn good and they make you look even smarter than you already are. He steals them every now and then to wear them, just to see your precious reaction. Every time he comes over he makes you wear them so your poor eyes can relax a bit.

Yeah, Eddie just loves you so much it‘s unbelievable.

Masterlist

[anodeorain]

Special day.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: Fluff, flirty, smut, pet names

Summary: Alcina brings you a special gift for your special day.

Word count: 2664

Notes: I apologies for any mistakes, English isn’t my first language :’) Hope you enjoy it anyways <3

It’s been about a year since you made it to castle Dimitrescu and stayed here as a personal maid of Lady Dimitrescu herself. She always said that you were the best maid she ever had and it surely flattered you. Alcina did her best to encouraged you every week, maybe even twice a week if she got time. Usually you just stayed over her Chamber for the night and spent time with her as you talked and cuddled.

You noticed her flirting with you few months ago. It was nothing special but she definitely hinted you that you’re the one she needs the most. You found it a bit weird since Dimitrescu never let anyone stay close to her, except for her daughters.

Not to mention, they were quiet annoying while they buzzed around the castle and woke you up every single day at 5am. Including today. You sigh, rubbing your sleepy eyes as you stretch out your body before sitting on the bed and looking around. Not to mention, Alcina gave you the personal room with single bed that was quiet enough for two people.

You walks over the common bathroom, washing your face quickly before getting dressed. You loved the smell of fresh cleaned uniform and you smile slightly, looking over yourself in the tiny mirror. You ties your hair up in a ponytail, finally walking off to the hall. It is so quiet. Other maids usually wake up at around 6am to do cleaning around the castle and cook the breakfast for the Lady.

“Mother calls you.”

Bela says from behind your ear, making you squeak. You didn’t expect her to show up. She laughs at you along with two other sisters before they disappear.

Lady Dimitrescu isn’t asleep? You frown slightly as you walk down the hall, reaching her Chamber. You knock twice, hearing quiet “come” from behind the door. You walk in and stay in the door frame, waiting for Lady’s next move.

“Oh, it’s you, dear. Come over, don’t be shy.” She says in a sweet tone.

You do as she said and walk closer to her, still keeping the distance between you two. She sits at her vanity, brushing her dark hair, holding the pin between her teeth.

“Why are you awake so early, Mistress?”

You ask quietly as you look at Alcina through the mirror and she smiles slightly at you.

“You don’t ask silly questions, do you, pet?”

She chuckles as she turns around to face you.

“Mommy’s got plenty of work to do today.”

You nod, your cheeks turn bright red.

“You need anything, ma’am?”

You ask Alcina quietly and hear another soft chuckle.

“Be here at around 9pm, please.”

“Wh-“

“Now go work, dear. Enough talking.”

Dimitrescu cuts you off and gives you a sweet smile, before turning around to face herself in the mirror again.

You nod, whispering “yes, Mistress” before heading off to the hall to get your job done. What is she planning?

*****

Alcina flickers before your eyes the whole day. She knows you are watching and makes sure you see her every hour or two, giving you soft smiles every time she walks past you. It got quiet annoying in the middle of the day, you couldn’t stop thinking about her request for you.

You finish your work at about 5pm and got plenty of time for yourself. After a warm shower you walk to your room, shutting it closed as you don’t want to see any of other maid. All of them are quiet talkative and love to drink tea after getting their jobs done. So do you but you are not in a mood today.

You take your sketch album and a tiny piece of a pencil that has left, thinking where to get a new one later, before you start sketching. You have no thoughts in your mind who you want to draw this time so you let your fantasies take a control.

You always loved to draw, since you were a child, but never had enough time for that. As soon as you got at castle Dimitrescu you found out that you can spend your evenings however you prefer. The only rule was to stay as quiet as possible in case not to disturb the Lady.

Of course, Lady Dimitrescu noticed you sketching as you sat under the stairs quietly. The next day she gave you a sketch book and a pencil so you could draw comfortably without using a piece of coal.

Since then you tired your best to draw every time you’ve got a free minute. You look down at the page, noticing the woman you drew looks exactly like the Lady and you blush, close the sketch book and hide it under your pillow. How come that you drew her by memory?

The answer was on a surface: you knew every inch of Alcina’s face. You found her really beautiful and elegant and you couldn’t get her out of your mind.

You sigh, laying down on the bed, closing your eyes. Two hours left till your meeting with Lady Dimitrescu so you decide to take a quick nap before you head to her.

*****

“Come in.”

You hear the strict tone as you knock on the door and walk in, closing the door behind you. Lady Dimitrescu isn’t dressed as usual. She has a black long dress that exposes her curves. The dress is sleeveless and also has a long cut on the side, showing off her silky pale leg.

“Mind helping me, dear?”

She asks quietly, patting her shoulders as she put her hair away from her neck.

“Oh… Sure.”

You quickly walk over to her, helping her to hook up her necklace.

“Ah, thank you, little mouse… I’ve been struggling with it for around five minutes and almost lost my mind.”

She smiles at you before turning around, placing her hands on her waist.

You smile at her, trying your best not to stare at her breasts that seem to be even bigger in this dress. You swallow hard and she notices it, letting out a low chuckle.

“Hm? Like the view, pet?” She smirks.

“Sorry, Mistress.”

You mumble, looking down at the floor.

“Come on now, dear. I’ve got something for you.”

She gets up from her vanity and walks off to the hall as you quietly followed her. You couldn’t help but stare at her swaying hips. Seems like she swayed them on propose. Soon enough you walk over the room that has always been locked. Alcina takes a key out of her tiny bag, unlocking it and letting you go in.

It is a quiet beautiful small room in reddish colors with golden candles all around it. There is nothing but a couch in the middle of the room and a comfortable chair in front of it with a tiny coffee table by its’ side. You frown slightly as you look over your shoulder at Alcina, who stays in the door frame with her arms crossed on her chest. Her lips curls into a sly smirk.

“What’s that for?”

You ask, sitting on a chair.

“Ah, dear… Think again, make your little brain work.” She chuckles.

You frown more, looking around once again, trying to get a tiny hint.

“Look at the table, pet. Does anything catch your eyes?”

She says as she walks around you, placing her hand on your shoulder.

You shiver under her touch and look at the small coffee table near the chair. Your eyes widened a bit as you notice a fresh sketch book and a pencil on it. You look up at Alcina, surprisingly, she is looking down at you the whole time with a smirk upon her lips.

“So…” She begins.

“Do you… want me to draw you?” you ask nervously.

“Correct, little mouse! Good job.”

She laughs, patting your back.

Alcina walks toward the couch, sitting on it in front of you, crossing her legs. She smirks once again, raising an eyebrow. She waits for your reply as she keeps staring directly into your eyes.

“Y/N?”

“Oh… I don’t kn-“

“Pretty please?”

She pouts.

“You don’t want to upset your Mistress, do you, pet?”

“Of course…” You nod.

She then gives you a big smile, placing her bag away before elegantly laying down on the couch, facing you.

You immediately get nervous as you never drew from nature but you don’t want to disappoint Lady Dimitrescu so you agree. You take a pencil and a sketch book, staring at Alcina for a while before you start to sketch the lines of her body. She stays quiet and patient for the next ten minutes before she sighs and looks at you.

“It’s quiet stuffy in here, isn’t it, little mouse?”

She slightly unbuttons the dress on her chest.

“It is…”

You nod at her but keep drawing.

Alcina smirks and lights up her cigarette, takes a long puff before the cloud of smoke floods around the small room. You smiles to yourself, noticing how she melts behind the smoke for a few seconds. You keep sketching her, paying attention to every detail of her body. She stays quiet and all you can hear is scratching sounds of your pencil against the paper.

It takes you an hour until the sketch is fully finished. Thankfully, Alcina was patient enough and just relaxed on the couch this whole time. You get up, walking across the room to show her the sketch and she sits, patting her lap, inviting you.

“Come sit with me, would you?”

She smiles and pulls you closer on her lap.

You blush but don’t hesitate, making yourself comfortable on her lap. Lady Dimitrescu is so close, you can feel the coldness of her body. She brushes your hair behind your ear before looking down at the sketchbook, noticing how detailed the sketch was. You look up at her and smile slightly.

“My…” Alcina begins.

“…How talented you are, my dear pet. You’re definitely the connoisseur of women’s bodies”

She teases.

“Oh… I… Thank you.”

You smile at her.

It isn’t the first time you both are so close but every time it feels like your first time and you blush like a kid nearly her. Lady Dimitrescu is obviously a charm and she knows that too well.

“Now…”

She gently puts you down on the floor as she gets up.

“…I’ve got something special for you, little mouse. As a reward…”

You can see her smirk widely as she walks closer to you and ties your eyes with a black strip of cloth. You shiver at her touch but nod. Alcina takes the sketchbook away from your trembling hands, puts it on the coffee table. All you can hear next is her heels clatter against the wooden floor and quiet rustling of her dress before she speaks again.

“You may take the strip off those pretty eyes of yours.” She says.

You do as she said, slowly take the strip off and open your eyes. You gasp as you see her sitting on the couch with her legs crossed but… the only thing she is wearing is her dark red lingerie that barely covers her intimate parts of the body. You feel your mouth becomes dried and your heart skip a beat. She looks so… stunning.

“Like what you see, little mouse?”

Alcina smiles as she walks over to you.

“Yes, Mistress…”

“Happy Birthday, dear.” She says quietly.

You look up at her, your eyes widen. It definitely isn’t your birthday today and, not to mention, you don’t even know when your actual birthday is. Dimitrescu chuckles as she notices you hesitate and answers your silent question.

“It’s been a year today since you’ve got to my castle, Y/N.” She says in a soft tone.

“Since we both are not aware when your birthday is I thought… It would be a great idea to celebrate it now.”

Alcina gives you a sly smirk.

“Oh… It’s not worth it. But thank you…” You mumble quietly.

“Are you upset, little mouse?”

She asks you softly, placing her hand on your shoulder as she speaks.

You shake your head and look up at her, feeling her grip of your shoulder. You moan softly, feeling your shoulders relaxing under her touch. Dimitrescu smirks and raises her eyebrow as she steps closer, placing her index finger under your chin, making you look into her eyes.

“Oh, dear… Careful with those sounds of yours.”

She lets out a soft chuckle before she leans down to you. Your lips are inches away from hers and you gasp but don’t pull away. You can notice the desire in Alcina’s golden eyes that sparkle even brighter when she looks at you.

“You’re trembling, Y/N…”

Dimitrescu murmurs, caressing your cheek with her fingers.

“Are you scared of me?”

“No, Mistress… Not at all.”

You shake your head slightly.

“I jus-“

She cuts you off by softly pressing her lips against yours. You gasp again at the sudden move, dropping the pencil on the floor. Alcina laughs, slightly pulling away to look into your eyes. She licks her lips, raising an eyebrow.

“You alright, dear?” She chuckles.

You nod, still feeling her moist lips on yours. Dimitrescu chuckles once again before gently picking you up, making you wrap your legs around her waist. She slightly kisses the pinkish cheek of yours, brushing her lips against your soft skin before she presses your lips together one more time. This time Alcina kisses you with more passionate, caressing your bottom lip with her tongue, asking for permission. You let out a quiet moan and open your mouth, letting her in. Your tongues dancing together as she holds you close against her body.

“M-mistress…”

You whimper.

She doesn’t say anything, sliding her hand up your thigh, gently squeezing it, making you moan once again. Oh, how she loves those sounds. Alcina smirks, gently nibbling at your neck.

You can feel the knot in your stomach, your panties become wet in a second and you know the vampire lady feels it well. You hold her shoulders, digging your nails into them as she licks your collarbones.

“It’s enough for today, Y/N.”

Alcina says, slowly pulling away from you.

“But! Mistress, I-“

“Enough. Don’t you dare to contradict my words, little mouse.”

She frowns as she gently places you back on the floor.

“My apologies…” You nod.

She grabs her dress, quickly putting it on. You glance over at her but Alcina is quiet and cold. Her sudden mood change takes you by surprise and you can’t say a word. You watch Alcina taking her bag and heading off toward the door.

“What are you waiting for, Y/N? A special invitation?”

She frowns.

You shake your head, taking the sketchbook and picking up the pencil from the floor before quickly escaping the room. Alcina shut the door closed and locks it in case anyone would like to sneak there.

You both walk quietly to your own rooms before Dimitrescu stops and places her hand on your shoulder. She kneels to your height and gently caresses your cheek with her thumb, slowly touching your bottom lip. Her actions make you blush and you look away but she makes you look back into her eyes.

“I’ve got work to do now, little mouse… But I’ll wait for you at my Chamber tomorrow. Be there by 9pm, got it?”

She almost whispers, smiling softly at you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You nod at her, squeezing the sketchbook in your hands.

“Good girl…”

Alcina smiles.

“…Sleep well, dear.”

With those words she leaves you alone in the hall and closes the door behind herself. You smile softly, heading off to your own room, quickly getting ready for sleep.

You can’t get Alcina off your mind… Her silhouette appears every time you close your eyes. But you don’t mind at all. With the thoughts of her you slowly drift off to sleep.

[verydeadaten]

It's in the Blood

It was a lazy Saturday at the Arc household. Pyrrha and Jaune are both taking a well deserved day off. Their first and second youngest, Helen and Gorga, were with their Aunt Nora and their Uncle Ren. It was peaceful.

Pyrrha: *lounging outside* It's so nice out.

???: Just hold still!

???: Yeah, I know!

Pyrrha: Hmm? What's that?

Pyrrha gets off her chair, walking to the side of the house. There she sees her middle children, the Twins. Romula and Remus Lupus Arc, both 8 years old. Romula was standing in front of a tree, with an apple sitting on top of her head of red hair.

Her brother, Remus, was standing a few yards in front of her. His blue eyes were squinted in concentration, and he seemed to be holding... A KNIFE?!

Romula: RIP IT DUDE!

Remus: Alright, here it goes! *throws knife*

Pyrrha: OH OUM!!!

Pyrrha quickly used her semblance, stopping the knife before it even got close to Romula, and then putting it in her hand.

Pyrrha: By the cracked moon, what the hell are you doing?!

Remus: Practicing knife throwing.

Pyrrha: WHY?

Romula: We saw some videos online, and it looked really cool!

Remus: Yeah, and Papa told us about when he threw knives with his sisters. And it sounded so awesome.

Romula: Mega awesome.

Pyrrha: Okay, but why would you use yourselves as targets? What if you got hurt, or worse?

Romula: We were aiming for the apples. And we have our auras. We were fine.

Pyrrha: *sighs really deeply and rubs her eyes* You're both grounded.

R+R: Mama!

Pyrrha: You're both grounded for a week. No videogames! Where's Michael. He should be watching you.

Remus: He said he would be at the big tree.

Romula: *upset* He left before we even started!

Pyrrha: *sighs even deeper* Of course he is. Just, just go to your room.

R+R: *dejected* Yes mom.

As Pyrrha storms off to the tree, the twins started to collude.

Romula: Wanna watch a scary movie?

Remus: Sure.

____

The Arc home was surrounded by forest. About a 100 yards away was the Big Tree, the biggest tree in the whole forest. You could see the top of the tree from the front of the house. Michael Cherub Arc, a 12 year old and the oldest Arc child, preferred the tree as his hangout of choice, somehow getting all the way to the top. Pyrrha never really knew how he got up there, but right know she really didn't care.

Pyrrha was nearing the foot of the tree. Craning her neck up, she could see some blond locks. Her son for sure. He was looking at the sky, away from the house, and before she could even open her mouth, he spoke.

Michael: Hey mom.

Pyrrha: Michael Cherub Arc, what are you doing up here?! I told you to watch the twins!

Michael: *munch* I wanted to look at the heavens again. Anyway, they're fine. They weren't going to do anything dangerous.

Pyrrha: They were throwing knives.

Michael: ...oh. *chewing* Well, with their aura, it couldn't be that dangerous.

Pyrrha: Wait... What are... What are you chewing? Are you eating my figs again?!

Michael: N-No...

Pyrrha: I swear to the Brothers. Get your butt down that tree and go to your room! You are grounded mister!

Michael: *figs falling out his mouth* B-B-BUT MAMA!

Pyrrha; No buts mister. I told you to do this one thing, and you didn't do it! You left! And on top of that, you ate my figs! You know your father grows those for me!

Michael: Mama I'm sorry!

Pyrrha: Sorry doesn't cut it. You better be at the house in ten minutes, or I'm adding another week to your punishment.

Michael: Okay.

Pyrrha released another sigh. She was just so tired.

_____

Later, at the Arc house...

Pyrrha was stressed. She needed to snack on something, and maybe have a small sip of wine. As she walked to the kitchen, she could hear the mad yelling of her second eldest, Constantine, from his room upstairs.

Constantine: You PEASANT ants. You think you can come into MY kingdom, take a bite of MY rations? I'll show you. I'LL SHOW YOU ALL! AH HAHAHAHAHA!

...Nope. Not dealing with that now. She needed to recharge. Upon entering the kitchen, she saw her beloved husband, Jaune Arc. He was also relaxing for today, since there where no missions. He as at the counter, putting milk, white bread, and... beer? into a bowl, which he then put powdered sugar on top of.

Pyrrha: Beloved, what are you eating?

Jaune: Oh, hey Pyr. I'm just having a snack. I would've used brandy, but it's just too early for that.

Pyrrha: *somehow sighs even deeper*

Jaune: *walks over to pyrrha* Pyr, are you okay?

Pyrrha: *embraces jaune* Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that our kids are crazy. I really don't know why I'm acting surprised, all you Arcs are crazy. I mean, for Oum's sake, their father decided it was a good idea to fake his way into a top huntsman school, without any prior training or even having his aura unlocked.

Jaune: Hey. I'm not that crazy.

Pyrrha: As your partner and wife, I can say with confidence that you are.

Jaune: Hmm. Is there anything I can do to help?

Pyrrha: Could you make me some lasagna?

Jaune: *kisses her forehead* One steaming hot lasagna coming up.

Pyrrha went to make herself a cup of coffee, and she looked at her husband cook. She smiled to herself, even though her family was completely mad, she wouldn't trade them for the world.

[wordsbyrian]

Anymore - So'Hara x Reader

Summary: R is the lead singer of a punk band and performs a song that's half apology-half regret. Request was So'Hara x Famous!Reader from an Anon

A/N: I don't know if punk bands count as famous but I know for a fact that my music taste is different than most people in the woso world. This is based off the Menzingers' song 'I Dont Wanna Be An Asshole Anymore', they're one of my favorite bands but they aren't very mainstream.

It isn’t unusual for you to find yourself standing on a stage in front of a large crowd on a Thursday night.

You’re the lead singer of a punk band, it’s literally what you get paid to do.

What is unusual is for you to be spending so much time searching the crowd looking for people, your girlfriends specifically.

You guys are in the midst of a pretty big argument and admittedly you haven’t spoken to them in a couple of days (yes it was that bad) but they had promised to be here tonight. Plus, you sent them a text with the address this morning and had gotten a thumbs up in response, so you were pretty hopeful.

At least you were until now because your set is about to start and they’re nowhere to be seen.

Taking a deep breath, you shove that to the side and launch into your first song, strumming your guitar hard and pouring your soul into the words.

It isn’t until you're finishing the fifth song of your set that you see them standing in the back of the small room.

Letting the final chords ring out, you push your sweaty hair out of your face and begin to speak into the microphone.

“Thank you, guys, so fucking much,” you say, smiling widely, “We know how hard it is to get to shows in the middle of the week when you have work the next day, so we really appreciate each and every one of you for being here.”

You stop for a moment, letting the crowd cheer while you try to catch your breath.

Laughing a bit at their enthusiasm you continue, “Now, obviously, we have a lot of songs left to play for you tonight but I figured right now would be a good time to debut an unreleased one, here live in DC.”

You try to keep speaking but are cut off by the crowd’s cheers.

“Bit of backstory, that last song Obituaries was written at the start of my relationship when I was afraid of well, fucking things up,” you explain when they calm down. “This next one is so new that there isn’t even a demo version of it yet because it was written a few days ago when I fucked this up. This is ‘I Don’t Wanna be an Asshole Anymore.’”

Taking a step away from the mic, you turn your back to the crowd, using the moment to silently check in with your bandmates before you start playing again.

When you turn back around, you manage to make it through a majority of the first verse before you look at them again.

“I’m always making a mess, always stumbling out the door but,” you sing, staring directly at them, “I don’t want to be an asshole anymore, woah, baby, baby, I’ll be good to you.”

There seems to be something magnetic about singing an apology to the women you wrote it for and although you find it hard to do, you manage to stop staring at them long enough to sing most of the rest of the song. They really only need to hear the last few lines anyway.

When you get to that part of the song, you stop playing guitar putting both hands on the mic in an attempt to ground yourself.

“You’re the only lovers that I’ll ever miss, ever been hopelessly in love with,” you sing leaning forward slightly, looking at them, “Look at this tangle of thorns, I don’t wanna be an asshole anymore.”

Between both the sweat and the light assaulting your eyes, it’s hard to make out exactly what the looks on their faces could mean but it’s impossible to miss the slight smiles on their faces.

Later that night, after the concert has ended and as you and your bandmates load your gear back into your cars, you hear a very familiar pair of voices calling your name.

Turning around you’re greeted by the sight of both Kelley and Emily walking toward you at a slightly hurried pace.

“Uh, hey,” you say once they’re standing in front of you.

It’s slightly awkward but the three of you haven’t really spoken in days and you don’t know what to say.

The tension is thick and you don’t know how to break it but luckily you don’t have to.

“So,” Emily says, trying to step into your personal bubble, completely undeterred when you continue moving backwards until you collide with your car. “You wrote us a song?”

“I mean technically, I’ve written you loads of songs, you just heard a new one tonight.”

“Whatever, Y/N,” she says leaning into you, “It’s just as sweet as it was the second time.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Kelley laughing at the inside joke as she comes to stand next to you.

“I think this one might fall into the same category as the first song though,” Kelley says, slipping her hand into yours.

You look down at your joined hands then at where Emily has her body pressed against yours then back again, a confused look plastered on your face before you speak.

“I have no idea what’s going on right now,” you tell them.

“About what?”

“Are we not in the middle of a fight,” you say, brows still scrunched together.

Kelley laughs again and so does Emily as she lets her hands move to grab you by the waist.

“Y/N/N, you’re an idiot,” Emily says with a slight squeeze, “It was barely an argument, much less a fight.”

“You called me an asshole and told me to get my shit together.”

“But we didn’t tell you to leave,” Kelley says softly, “We told you to get it together because it was the fourth time in three weeks you came home with a bruise on your face.”

Honestly, you don’t know how you’re supposed to respond to that, you do have a tendency to blow things out of proportion, especially when you feel like you’re being attacked, so you respond the only way you can.

“Oh.”

It feels as though everything from the last couple of days is becoming much clearer and the thing that’s become the most obvious is that you need to stop going to the bar with your drummer Dylan, who is a professional instigator.

“Oh, indeed.”

It’s then that you’re interrupted by none other than the instigator himself trying to get your attention.

“You coming out with us,” he shouts across the parking lot when you look at him.

With the help of your new found realization and the prospect of being able to sleep in your own bed instead of on his couch tonight, it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to shake your head at him before redirecting your attention to the women next to you, both of whom looked shocked.

“You’re not going for post-show drinks,” Emily asks.

“I think I need to spend less time with Dylan,” you say, “He’s always getting me in trouble. Plus, I haven’t really seen you guys in a couple days.”

“You get yourself in enough trouble without his help,” Kelley says with an eye roll, “But we wouldn’t be opposed to you hanging out with us instead.” She pauses for a moment, leaning up to kiss the side of your jaw. “We’ll see you at home.”

With that she pulls her and away from yours, taking one of Emily’s instead and begins dragging her towards the car they came in.

“Wait,” you call after them, “Can’t I get a real kiss?”

“Maybe when you get home,” she calls back.

[ellemfaoh]

Pinball, Hair, and Detention Pt. 3 | Vance Hopper X Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (here) | Part 4

Word Count: 4.4k

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Rivalry, Angst, Fluff

Content Warnings: Kidnapping, Swearing, Female Reader Implied/Mentioned, Descriptors of character deaths, Blood, Beatings

Summary: Reader and Vance have some sort of ongoing rivalry. You accidentally spilled your drink on his hair and he in turn gave you a “fresh cut.” You one day get detention together due to fighting. On the walk home one day— where you both live merely a block away, he barely misses your abduction and watches as you helplessly get carried away in a black van.

A/N: As an apology for taking so much longer to post this, I made it a little extra long <3

A/N 2.0: Also we are so close to actually seeing action, I’m just a sucker for slow burns 💔

——————————————

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” You shouted at the masked man, backing up on the old mattress he placed you on, rusty springs creaking under your weight.

The Grabber gave a heavy sigh. “I really don’t like repeating myself. I’m sure that spray doesn’t affect your memory.”

This was a sick joke. You must’ve angered whatever god was out there because for the past two months your life was nothing but a roller coaster of hell. Your encounters with Vance, your hair, your reputation being ruined, and now your kidnapping. Did you do something in a past life to deserve this? You were an average middle school student: average grades, average friend group, average life. You never did anything risky or illegal and you helped out when you could—which is what got you into this mess. Maybe this was a lesson to be learned.

“Now, how about I get you some soda to calm you down? You like sprite?” His voice seemed a little singsongy—which really creeped you out, especially when he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You stay here and don’t try anything. This room is soundproof anyways, so no one will hear you.”

When The Grabber left, closing the heavy metal door with a slam, a loud click of the handle locking echoing around the room just a moment later. That’s when the dread fully sunk in. You were stuck in a creepy man’s basement with absolutely no way out. The floor was linoleum tile, the walls were solid concrete (with a weird orange strip stain all over them), and the window was probably around 8 feet high. Maybe that explained why he didn’t bother to put bars there yet considering everyone he’s kidnapped so far were pretty short. Billy was probably an average height, but Griffin was pretty short. He was also eleven years old—the youngest out of the victims so far.

You walked around the space you’d be occupying until your probable death, looking at the weird little hallway area with the toilet and a few rugs. Nothing of interest. How the hell are you supposed to use rugs to escape. When you walked back to the bed you noticed the black phone hanging on the wall, quickly running over to it and attempting to dial a number. When you held the receiver to your ear and heard nothing, not even a static fuzz, you realized it wouldn’t work. Suspicions confirmed when you looked at the snipped phone line.

“Damn it!” You yelled, slamming the phone back on the dialer. You slid down to the floor with stinging eyes and a tight throat. “I’m gonna die here. I didn’t even get to see my parents last night or this morning.” Sniffling, you curled your head into your knees. “And the last person I hung out with was Vance.”

Then the phone rang.

——————

“I didn’t do anything, I swear!” Vance shouted at the cops in front of him. “I watched the mother fucker shove her in that fucking black van and drive off! I have her backpack right here! If I did anything do you think I’d keep her shit?!”

“Hopper, please relax. No one is saying you’re lying. We were just asking if you got the events correct.”

“Of course I did! It happened barely an hour ago.” He said, taking in a deep breath and exhaling angrily. “I don’t hang with that fuckface, but I’m not about to let a kidnapping go!”

The room was quiet, police officers of the small Denver town looking at Vance and then each other. They all knew the boy well—he’d never come to the cops of his own free will. Usually people were coming to them about him. One of the secretaries was on the phone with the (Y/L/N) family already, informing them of the grave news and telling them to come to the station as soon as possible.

One of the officers, an older guy who frequently dealt with Vance, placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder, giving him a sympathetic smile. “We know you’re worried, boy. We’ll find her.”

Vance grumbled and stood up, face flushed. Embarrassment and anger most likely. “Whatever, I’m leaving.”

As he walked out of the station, Vance made his way back over to where you were abducted. Maybe he’d be able to find you without the cops, he was the one that watched you get taken after all. When he walked up to the curb where he found your bag, he looked for any hints. The black balloons in the tree were the only thing so far that was solid and concise evidence. The van had quickly pulled out and driven to the left, going straight for a little while—or at least until he lost sight of it.

He decided to walk down the street and through the neighborhoods he passed occasionally. The kidnapper would be stupid to leave his van outside in broad daylight, especially since he knew Vance saw it just as clearly as you. He mostly scanned the houses, looking at the exterior and trying to feel the vibes. Some houses looked really gross and rickety, then there were the others that definitely housed a nice, big, happy family. Maybe that house he just passed was the Yamada’s. Vance had no idea how Bruce would react to your disappearance. For as long as anyone amongst your graduating class knew, you and Bruce had known each other for as long as possible.

How the hell was he supposed to find you like this? There are definitely a few thousand people in this buttfuck nowhere Denver town, he thought. He’d have to scour the streets for clues, look at people and analyze them. He’d figure this out. He knew the cops were doing a half-assed job with this case so far. You were person three, so that made this serial, but he’d been in the station while they mentioned a few things about the cases, some of them being brushed off. He really only trusted that old guy. Day 0, and he was determined to find you before the week was over.

——————————————

How many hours have you been down here? It felt like it’d been weeks, but you knew by the dead darkness outside and inside the room that the day ended. You had nothing down here; just the mattress you were on, the toilet, and yourself. You never thought you’d miss laying and doing nothing in your room more than now. Oh, you also had the ghost phone. You almost didn’t believe it when the phone rang, but you picked it up immediately. Even if it would’ve been a fluke, you’d hope and pray for anything you could get.

“Hello?! Hello?! Can anyone help me?!”

It was silent for a little while and you lost hope, leaning against the wall and covering your teary eyes while taking deep breaths to calm yourself down before you broke down. Your hand had drifted from your head to your hip, the phone knocking against the wall. When you opened your eyes and saw the image of a bloody and dead Griffin, you screamed, letting the phone go out of shock. You were in disbelief. You were scared. You were probably hallucinating too. The boy’s mouth was bobbing up and down. Was he talking? You grabbed the phone and pressed it to your ears, listening for any sort of noise.

“D…n’t cr…”

The words through the receiver were crackled and sounded like a whispered gargle. You could barely stand to look over at Griffin, his throat slit and body riddled with welts and blood. Now though, he seemed to be standing closer to you, not contorted in whatever hellish position you had first seen him in.

“What?” You sniffled, wiping your nose and eyes. “You…what do you mean?”

“Don’t cry.” The boy said, pausing for a moment. “Don’t let him see you like this. He loves it.” Silence again.

“You…you’re Griffin. You were the first to go missing. How am I talking to you?”

“I don’t know. Your name is the first thing you forget—All I know is that you should stop crying before he comes back. He loves seeing kids cry.” Griffin looked around at the room. “I had something to tell you, but I can’t remember. It had something to do with a door.”

“You know how to get out of here?!”

“No. The front door. There’s a padlock there, it’s the code used for my bike lock.” You waited for him to continue, give you the code or something. “I think the code is-”

“Put the phone down.” You jumped, Billy’s voice and any static the receiver had going dead. “That stupid thing doesn’t work anyways. Hasn’t worked since I was a kid.”

You placed the phone back on the wall slowly, glaring at the man as he stood in the doorway watching you. Why he came down here you wouldn't know. He squatted down and looked up at you. You felt a chill go up your spine, his beady eyes staring up at you gave you the heebie-jeebies. Why did he sit lower? Was this some way to play a mind trick on you? Make you feel empowered when he could actually take you out immediately?

“Why me?” You asked, taking the opportunity. You had a feeling you’d probably end up dying. You just wanted to know why. “Why do you do this to me? Why’d you grab me?”

He stood up, standing for a moment before walking over to you. Your heart dropped into your feet, your legs paralyzed in fear. Was he gonna beat you for asking? Maybe he’d stab you and teach you a lesson. His hand lifted up to tilt your head to look up at him, tucking a stray piece of hair back. His hands were cold, his demeanor threatening, but his voice sounded light and cheery. It was sick.

“I guess I’m aiming for someone else by taking you first. I don’t usually kidnap girls.” He stepped back, looking at you whole again. “Maybe after this though, I’ll consider it a little more.”

You nearly puked. Aiming for someone else? Did he mean Vance? Or Bruce? Was he stalking you guys? You hung out with them often—though Vance was less of a choice. He would consider kidnapping more girls ‘after this?’ Did that mean after he killed you he’d go for more? Your thoughts drifted over to kids you knew. Gwen, the girl who could see things in her dreams. You knew her from Amy, Bruce’s little sister. They hung out at the Yamada’s place together sometimes too. You couldn’t imagine either of them getting kidnapped.

“Don’t you even think about touching anyone else you sick fuck.” You cursed at him, an angry glare on your face.

“Wow, but of a potty mouth here.” He chuckled, eyes cold as he grabbed your hair and squeezed. “I suggest you behave well, you don’t want to act like the last few ‘naughty boys’ I’ve had recently. They didn’t have a very fun time.”

You cried out in pain, the added motion of him shaking your head causing tears to prick your eyes. He really was sick—talking about the previous victims like it was a normal occurrence. You hated everything. You wanted to go home. You wanted to talk with Bruce about stupid things like Mr. Roeder’s bad cover-up for his bald spot or something. You wanted to be sitting in detention ruefully staring at the board as you waited to go home. If only you waited a little longer, or went the longer route that day. You kept talking about yourself in the past-tense and honestly? It helped you prepare to be murdered later as the man let go of your hair and walked out of the room, the heavy lock sliding into place.

“Get me out of here.” You sniffed, sliding down the wall and deciding to let yourself cry. Forget the ghosts of the past boys telling you what to do, you’d cry as hard as he wanted if it meant you could even say goodbye to the people you loved just one last time.

——————————————

Day 3 of the search for you. By now people were desperate. There was a pattern with The Grabber. He wouldn’t kill immediately. No, he preferred to take his time with people. Mind games, physical violence—nobody knew what, but it was something. Vance and everyone else looking for you never would’ve guessed you were just blocks away, about twelve feet under in some dingy basement of a sick man. You lost track of time, all the sleeping and staring into space and random walking around made the minutes seem like hours and the hours seem like days. You hadn’t gotten any other calls recently, so it must’ve been your imagination. Maybe whatever gas you were sprayed with made you loopy.

“How do I get out of here?” You asked yourself, pacing around the room, feet dragging against the linoleum tile. You felt icky too. You hadn’t showered recently, you were dirty from the residue of the room in the air and on the bed. “What the fuck am I supposed to use?”

Suddenly the lights in the room blinked on and you hurriedly dove for the bed, pretending to sleep. You wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction of seeing or hearing your weakness. When the door creaked open and the light behind him poured in the room everything was still. Your breathing was kept even and slow even though your heart was pounding. He never gave any hints towards his intentions to you.

“I know you aren’t asleep.”

Silence.

“Tsk, naughty girl.” He said angrily, any singsong tone he had previously was gone.

You slowly sat up, turning your head to face him with an angry look. He held a tray with a plate of shitty looking eggs and an open bottle of soda. You didn’t even realize how hungry and thirsty you were until you saw the food. Stomach growling, your hand slid over your stomach. You couldn’t see The Grabber’s face—he was wearing a full mask today—but you could see the crinkle of his eyes as he (probably) smirked at you. Weakening you physically and mentally by hunger, what a fucking piece of shit.

“Why would I eat that? God knows what you put in it.”

“Eat it, don’t eat it, I don’t care.” He said, placing the tray down and looking up at you. You could almost see the sick and twisted smile of his mask blend in with his face. “I don’t need to drug you. I already have you right where I want you.”

Your heart dropped. Sure you knew your fate was probably already sealed, but it never hurt to have hope. Now though you might as well rip them up and throw them around like doomsday confetti. When the Grabber didn’t leave immediately and kept standing by the door you made a face. Why was he still here? Just leave. You wanted your peace and alone time. You had already cried what felt like all your tears the first day, so you just wanted the silence and stillness of an empty room.

“Why are you still here? Just get out already.”

“Give me a minute, I’m just looking at you.”

Eventually he opened the door and you figured that maybe there’s someone else in the house. There had to be. You took a deep breath and started screaming. Your throat burned and your head hurt, but you made sure to scream as loud as possible before you were stopped. A rough and calloused hand gripped your throat, fingers digging into the flesh and your windpipe slowly being squeezed. You clawed at the hands around your throat, struggling to breathe.

“Naughty. Very naughty girl.” He growled out angrily, pushing you to the floor and he quickly slid off his belt. “Very smart but very stupid girl.”

Your eyes widened as he folded the belt, raising the tough leather over his head. You started pleading even while knowing it was a fruitless effort. You tried to escape in some way, and now he’d punish you for disobeying. When the first strike of the belt hit your stomach, your eyes welled up with tears and you yelped. It didn’t last long—maybe a minute or two at best, but it was some of the worst pain you’ve felt. He left you a sniveling mess on the floor, red welts appearing slowly and blood springing from where your skin had split.

“Next time I suggest you be a little smarter. I should slit your throat for the ruckus you made.” The Grabber said to you, looping the belt around his waist again and muttering something under his breath. “Now I have to talk to him about it.”

“Him?” You hiccuped through tears, looking up at the man who glared at you. He left wordlessly, slamming the door behind him, save for the click of the door lock.

He didn’t lock the door? Not even after this attempt of yours? Did he forget in his rage? You slowly got up, your nerves screaming as your skin stretched as you stood—your stomach and left forearm probably hurt the most. He got you good. As you slowly made your way to the door, your foot knocked into the tray on the floor. Oh right, the food.

You got down on your knees and grabbed a handful of shitty scrambled eggs, stuffing them into your mouth. They weren’t great, hell, these were some of the worst eggs you’ve ever had, but it was better than the taste of hunger. You felt like an animal with how you were eating, and chugging the soda bottle didn’t help your case, but not everyone was perfect. As you wiped your face and kicked the tray off to the side while getting up to get out of this fucking basement the phone rang again. Maybe you died in the beating and this was a dream, but as it kept ringing you were more convinced it wasn’t a dream at all.

“Hello?”

“Don’t go up those stairs.”

“What the fuck? You aren’t Griffin. Why the fuck wouldn’t I try to get out of here?” You sounded bitchy, but you took a moment to think. Who was the other kid that was grabbed before you? “Wait…Billy Showalter?”

“Don’t call me that, and don’t go up the stairs. He’ll beat you with that fucking belt again.”

“If he doesn’t want me to escape then why would he leave the door unlocked?”

“He’s playing ‘Naughty Boy’ with you. I guess it’d be ‘Naughty Girl’ with you but still. You pissed him off just now and he wants to see if you really are as stupid as he thinks.”

“Hey–”

“Listen to me.” His voice was stern and heavy. He was taking no shit. “You already got hit a few times. That’s only a fraction of what his beatings actually feel like. He beats you to death and it hurts real fucking bad”

“What…” You started, choking slightly on your words. What could you do? How could this dead kid help you at all? “What am I supposed to do?”

“Play his sick game differently than he expects. Don’t be naughty. Don’t let him see you doing anything like scratching stuff on the walls or trying to get out of here. He won’t kill you unless he feels like he’s won his little game. You have time. He got me after two weeks, and he got the other one after his first. Poor kid almost got out of here too.”

Griffin almost made it out? He mentioned a lock on the door. It was his lock right? You couldn't help but shudder at the thought of poor Griffin dying violently to such a sick man at such a young age.

“Oh yeah, and there’s a cable hidden under the crack in the walls by the hallway. Use that somehow—don’t let my work be put to waste.”

“You got it, Paperboy.”

——————————————

Day 5 and Vance was still looking for you. He’d cut school to scour the streets for the black van or any sign of that fucker’s face. He’d threaten anyone that muttered a slight insult of your or Griffin’s or Billy’s names. He might’ve been an asshole, but he met the sick fucker that kidnapped you guys. He knows how it was out of your guys’ control. Your kindness was your weakness, but he figured the other two probably got tricked the same way. Helping out a stranger that needed help.

“Hey!” Vance heard his dad shout from his car, making the blonde jump. Shit, he’d get in trouble for skipping again. “Come here, Vance!”

Vance slowly trudged over to the family car; a beat up and dark blue 1972 Oldsmobile Cutlass. While Vance might’ve had his tough-guy persona on display constantly he didn’t exactly enjoy being chewed out by his dad, especially not in public. The boy kept his head down, refusing to look up for fear that he’d see the angry look the older man was giving him.

“If you’re gonna skip school to look for your friend, then can you swing by some of the shops and pick up our orders? Your mom would really appreciate it.”

Vance looked up in surprise. He wasn’t going to be yelled at? No anger? Just understanding? He almost didn’t believe it, just nodding in dumbfounded shock. His dad told him the shops needed, gave the blonde a pat on the shoulder, then drove off. After all of this, Vance finally snapped out of it.

“What the fuck?”

——————

One one last shop to stop by for the day. The utility store. His dad ordered some rope and chain for work, and his mom ordered cleaners for the house. Basic shit he could drag home and then keep looking. That’s how most of Vance’s days went now. Search for you for a while, hit the Grab N Go for pinball then rinse and repeat. Walking into the store, he started talking to one of the cashiers, giving the family’s last name and waiting for the guy to get the bag for him.

As he leaned against the counter and looked around while waiting, some other guy came up to the counter with a shop basket of things. Rope, tape, locks, and a bunch of other what seemed like miscellaneous things. Vance turned his head and looked up at the man, instantly seeming to forget how to breathe. Holy shit. The Grabber was right next to him.

He looked just a little different: he didn’t have his hat or sunglasses on, but the blonde could tell it was definitely him. It was in his face. He’d been looking for days to find this man or any sign of you and it just so happened that the little shopping trip his father sent him on led him directly to what he was looking for.

Vance quickly grabbed the bag of his family’s items and walked out. He needed to make sure he wasn’t easily recognizable as the boy who was with you that day. Lucky for him he wasn’t in his usual denim outfit, going with some black jeans, a wife beater, and an old red-and-tan letterman jacket his dad probably used in high school. Vance rummaged around in his pockets, pulling out a hair tie and pulling his hair back into a messy ponytail-bun kind of thing. He was very rushed, prepared to follow the man secretly.

“I should be a cop at this point.” He scoffed to himself.

The moment the Grabber left the store, Vance was on the hunt. With his hair tied up and his outfit styled in a less messy and more proper way he didn’t look super familiar—hopefully. He almost cussed out loud when the man started walking towards a car parked on the street. Fuck, this just got a lot more difficult. The man threw his bag into the trunk roughly and walked to the driver’s door. Wait—what did he buy again? It was something like rope and tape right? Did he see a hunter’s knife in there too? Fuck. Was he going to kill you today?

Vance moved with urgency, acting like he was also walking to a car close by and acting like he was fumbling with his keys as he waited for the Grabber to leave. He’d follow the car by running after it…or something. Damn, he really didn’t think this through huh? Looking around in urgency, he spotted Bruce Yamada not too far away and lucky for the blonde, he was biking. Taking a glance at the creep not too far away it seemed he was moving shit around in his trunk. Okay, he had time.

“Yamada!”

Bruce braked and looked over at Vance, a mixture of emotions swimming on his face. How else was he gonna react when the kid he could blame for your kidnapping showed up, not to mention looking nothing like himself. What was he doing?

“What do you want, Hopper?”

“Your bike.”

“Excuse me?”

“Give me your bike, Bruce—I’m not gonna steal it, I’ll return it to you, but I need to follow someone?”

Bruce turned away from the blonde, an incredulous look on his face. “What the fuck are you on? You don’t talk to anyone for days, skip school ever since Y/N went missing, and now you randomly start pestering me for my bike? You have a lot of fucking nerve V—“

“I need to follow the fucker that kidnapped your best friend, dipshit!” Vance raised his voice, making sure to keep it low so as to not alert The Grabber.

“What?!”

“Give it. I’ll explain later.” Vance yanked the bike from the raven-haired boy and started off after the car that had just left. Shit, what had he gotten himself into?

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