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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 days

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Bad for Me — Cassian x Reader

Hi! I found this in my drafts and thought I’d share it while I’m finishing up the next part of Bluebird. I’m not sure why I never posted it 🤔maybe because I don’t think it’s very well written. Also, it seems I was using a prompt list for parts of dialogue in this, but I can’t for the life of me think which one it was 😅but anyway, enjoy an angsty piece with an angsty cliffhanger ending 💅🏻

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: None.

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“What the fuck is this?”

There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t shake with anger as you stormed your way into the sitting room. Anger that had built up and festered as the day had faded into night.

It was late. You’d waited up — waited for the telltale, arrogantly loud footsteps that had announced Cassian’s return. Where he’d been all day, you didn’t know nor care.

Sure enough, you found him in his usual chair by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey rested on the arm and his eyes closed. His fingers rubbed circles into his forehead — a positive sign that he was sporting a particularly gruelling headache.

Good. You would yell into his ear until he launched himself off one of the verandas and flew far, far away.

“What is this?” You repeated, chucking the item you held straight onto his lap.

His eyes slowly opened, and he glanced down impassively. “That’s a piece of paper. It’s useful for writing, or drawing, or—”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

It had surprised you, to say the least, to wake up to the folded note on your bedside table — in Cassian’s rough scrawl.

Find yourself a pretty little dress. Don’t make any plans for Friday next. We’re going dancing. Cassian.

“Explain.” You demanded, your tone clipped. Brash.

You didn’t want to go dancing with Cassian. Or walking, or running, or…anything.

It was bad enough living under the same roof as him. Working in the same circle as him. Bad enough having to be civil in the name of a unified front.

But you were professional. You could pretend to get along in front of people.

That didn’t mean you had to socialise with him, though.

With a sigh, he sat up straighter, brushing his hair back. “Rhys is having me play courtier again.”

Your head cocked to the side. “But you’re so terrible at it.”

The minuscule pause and tick of his jaw told you you’d landed a sure blow. A nervy spot, for Cassian, was certainly his abilities off the battlefield. Why Rhys insisted on sending the General on certain courtier expeditions was beyond your comprehension. And beyond Cassian’s, too, judging by how much he hated it.

You took no small amount of pleasure in that fact. A little payback for all the ways he’d torn you down over the years.

“Hilarious.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Whatever. Rhys is having me represent him at a fucking ball in the Hewn City and I need a plus-one, so — you’re coming.”

Your shoulders tensed. “Absolutely not. Ask somebody else.”

“There’s no way I’m putting Mor through that. And she’s in Vallahan, anyway.”

“So take Amren with you.”

“Be real, Y/N.”

You stared at him, clenching your jaw. You hated him. Hated him so, so much — loathed him — that you swore your veins turned to ice around him. Ever since you’d met him, and you’d taken one look at him and thought he was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen.

You’d sworn never to fall in love again, when you’d joined Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and seeing Cassian go through flings like you went through books only solidified that decision.

Hate was a good thing. Hate was something you could pour all your anger into and throw at the person that seeped into your thoughts a little too often.

And dish that hate out you may, but gods Cassian gave it back just as fiercely.

“Ask one of your many lovers.” You spat. “You have your cock in a different female every week. I can’t imagine you’re short on admirers.”

Cassian stretched his arms over his head. “And how many admirers do you have, Y/N?”

You tried your best not to flinch. To let him see the effect his words had on you was as bad as him thrusting a dagger into your gut. You willed yourself to give nothing away.

“Just find somebody else.” You said. “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going anywhere with you, of all people.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. You turned on your feet and stalked from the room, leaving the note on his lap and your barbed words hanging heavy in the air.

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Three nights later, your bedroom door burst open so abruptly that you dropped your book on your face.

“Pause your masturbation for five minutes.” Cassian’s deep, arrogant voice filled the room. “I have your dress.”

You sat up, your entire body tensing the way it always did in his presence. “What.”

He kicked the door shut behind him, and even in your considerably-sized bedroom, his domineering figure seemed to take up most of the space. He strode to the foot of your bed — and paused, just for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of your nightgown, your unbound hair.

You didn’t have a chance to remark before he straightened himself out and launched a flash of pale pink fabric at you.

“For the ball.” He said. “I checked your size and asked the shopkeeper to pick it out, so…if you don’t like it, I don’t really give a fuck.”

Your eyes fell down to the dress in your lap. Undeniably pretty, with its rosy hue and flaring skirt, thin straps and tiny, beaded jewels. A dress you would probably choose for yourself, if the occasion called for it.

You’d always loved clothes; dresses in particular. The intricacies of certain garments fascinated you, and the thought of creating your own made your heart skip a beat.

You thought you’d feel pretty in this dress; prettier than you usually felt, in your leathers or shirts and breeches. It wasn’t all that often that you had an occasion to dress up for.

But even this gown wouldn’t convince you to accept Cassian’s invitation. Or, rather, his order.

You pushed the dress away from you, though your fingers lingered within the soft fabric. “You’re absolutely fucking insane if you think I’m going to that ball with you.”

Cassian’s eyes fell to where your hands stroked the skirts, before climbing back up to meet yours. The bastard knew what you were feeling. He fucking knew.

“Oh, you so want to.” He smirked. “I can see it in your eyes.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “So it’s a nice dress. I’m sure one of your many sexual escapades would appreciate it.”

The General’s head tilted, a few strands ripping from the loose knot his hair was tied into. “What is it about my sex life that bothers you so much?”

That you’re free to even have such a sex life without judgement. That you will never know what it’s like to be ostracised just for exploring such things. That you can fuck who you like with no repercussions. That it isn’t me you’re—

“Don’t mistake me for someone who gives a shit about anything you do.” You bit. “I just wouldn’t want such a nice dress to be wasted.”

“It won’t be. Because you’ll be wearing it to the ball on Friday.”

“No.” You threw the dress back at him. Picked your book back up. “I will not.”

“I’m going to hang it on the door.”

“Don’t bother.”

He ignored you, of course. The dress was hung. “We’ll be leaving at seven.”

“No we won’t.”

“We will.”

He pulled your bedroom door open, slipping out.

“Cassian?” You called, and there was a strong pause.

He poked his head back in. “What?”

“I’m not going to that damned ball with you.”

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You were going to that damned ball with him.

High Lord’s orders, your ass. You’d kill Rhys for this.

The dress was a perfect fit, clinging to you like a second skin. And as you stared yourself down in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the fabric, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this pretty.

A long, long time ago. A night of passion. A night that would ultimately ruin your life.

You shook the past from your thoughts, straightening yourself out. It was imperative that you wore an unbreakable mask to the Hewn City. One that was steeled and sharp and revealed nothing of the person that lay beneath.

A thump fell on your bedroom door. “We’re going to be late.” Cassian barked.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from the mirror. The beads of your dress swished as you moved, and you focused on that, rather than the oaf that was currently trying to break into your room.

Just a few hours, and this would all be over.

“Simmer down, General.” You pulled the door open, stepping out. “I’m ready.”

Cassian stepped back. And stopped.

His hazel eyes slowly traced the length of your body. And despite the fact that he’d griped about being late, he took his sweet time drinking you in.

You waited for the snide remarks. For whatever fault he would surely find with your appearance. But when his eyes landed on your face again, you couldn’t puzzle out his expression.

“Good.” Was all he commented. “Let’s go.”

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“Can you quit your fidgeting?”

Cassian scowled beside you, rolling his shoulders. “The collar on this thing is too tight.”

Your eyes travelled the sculpted length of his body — not for the first time — before you forced them away. He looked…undeniably breathtaking.

His comfort, you knew, was in leathers and body armour. Only on rare occasions like Starfall or Solstice did he swap his usual attire for more casual clothing like button-up shirts and trousers. You couldn’t recall a time you’d actually seen him decked in a tailored suit.

Until now.

The material was of deepest burgundy, outlining — accentuating — every last muscle it possibly could. There was something thrilling about the thought of so many deadly weapons hiding within that dashing attire. Something thrilling about knowing the Lord of Bloodshed walked beside you.

Right now, though, he was the fucking Lord of Complaining and Whining. You rolled your eyes, turning to him.

“What are you doing?” He watched as you pushed up onto the tips of your toes.

“Shutting you up.” You adjusted his collar, ignoring the feel of the backs of your fingers brushing his neck. “Better?”

“Suppose so.” He rolled those shoulders again. He wouldn’t be content until the suit was off him completely.

“Then let’s go.” You currently stood outside the towering gates of the Hewn City, the air always unpleasantly cold in these parts. You took a step forward, your dress swishing along the ground—

A warm, rough hand landed on your arm. Stopped you.

“What?” You glanced at Cassian over your shoulder.

“Rhys is expecting us to represent him.” He said, his hazel eyes strangely fierce. He always got that look when there was a task at hand. “I know we hate each other. And that’s more than fine. But just for tonight, can we pretend that we…don’t?”

You stared back at him pensively. A petty part of you wanted to shrug him off and scoff. To tell him that the unpleasantness with which he’d always approached you had long laid any potential alliance to waste.

But he was right — Rhys was counting on you both. And Rhys had done a lot for you since you’d turned up on his doorstep with barely a coin to your name. For him…for him, you would pretend to enjoy Cassian’s company.

“Whatever.” You shrugged the General’s touch off, turning back around. “Fine.”

It wasn’t going to be easy, though.

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You made sure, in your life, that you never had to spend any extended amount of time with Cassian. You tolerated him when you had to, and avoided him the rest of the time.

But you’d been for nights out in the same group, of course. And you’d forgotten how many females tended to flock to his side and fawn over him.

This ball was a sure reminder of that.

You’d barely stepped into the room and grabbed yourselves a drink before groups of females were glancing over and chatting excitedly, shrill giggles floating over to you. It was a mere five minutes before one of them mustered the nerve to ask him to dance, leaving you standing on your own.

It was during that first dance that you decided — you weren’t just going to be civil with Cassian.

You were going to be so sickeningly over the top that he’d have no chance of skulking off with any of those females and leaving you by yourself while he got his cock sucked. Not a chance. If they thought he’d been claimed by another member of Rhys’s Inner Circle, they’d back off; if a little begrudgingly.

So you watched. Waited for that dance to end. Rhys hadn’t given you any specific orders, besides attending on his behalf and keeping an ear out for any gossip. You drank your wine and enjoyed the music, and the second Cassian had an empty space before him, you dipped in before anybody else could.

It seemed to surprise him. He blinked at you, before straightening himself out. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing with you.” You grabbed his hand, fastening it on your waist.

“Rhys never said we had to dance together.”

“You want us to get along, Cassian?” The music began, tugging you into movement. “Then let’s get along.”

With the other couples beginning to dance around you, it left no other option than to follow suit and avoid causing a scene. Cassian’s jaw ticked, but he grabbed for your other hand and began to pull you around the dance floor with him. He was no seasoned dancer, by any means, but he displayed more skill than you’d expected.

Another thing you loved — dancing. Feeling like your feet were floating. Once you started dancing, you wanted to keep going and going into you fell off the world and tumbled into a blissful beyond. Nothing else mattered besides the music, the moves.

“I didn’t know you could dance.” Cassian commented, echoing the thoughts you’d had about him.

You shrugged, not misstepping once. “I was forced to take lessons as a girl.”

“I didn’t know that, either.”

“Why would you know? It’s not as though we like each other.”

He spun you around. Dipped you in his arms. “And why is that?”

Laughable, that he was the one to ask that question. “You tell me. You never tried.”

“Is that how it went?”

“It is.”

He stared at you, expression unreadable. No other words were exchanged as one dance came to its end, and the music flowed into the next piece. But you didn’t need words to carry out your plan.

The second you caught a glimpse of hopeful, waiting females in your periphery, you pulled Cassian closer to you once more, your bodies flush against each other.

You may have felt a teensy bit ridiculous as you slipped your fingers into the strands of his hair and brushed it out of his face.

“I like your hair like this.” The words were heavy on your tongue. Not untrue, but…painful to say out loud.

Cass stared at you. “…thank you.”

But his thanks was lost in your satisfaction as the awaiting female disappeared from the corner of your eye, skulking off to sulk, no doubt. It was an effort not to smirk. Still, you righted yourself and continued with your plan.

You made certain that yours and Cassian’s bodies met in all the right places. Very close. Very dangerous.

Perfect — because there were still hopeful, simpering females watching. Waiting for you to walk away.

“Dance with me again.” Your breathy tone wasn’t entirely for show — nor was the hand you trailed down his arm for emphasis.

But Cassian frowned at you. “What are you up to?”

“Me?” Your eyes glittered. “Nothing at all.”

He kept his gaze on you, following you into your second dance. You could have sworn you saw the slumping of many shoulders as you spun around the floor, Cassian’s hands like a burning brand on your skin.

You weren’t even really paying attention to him, simply following the steps mindlessly, until he spoke again.

“That isn’t how it went.” He said.

Your brow furrowed as you spun around. “What?”

In one swift move, he was pulling you against him, pressing your fronts together. “You said I never tried to know you. I refute that.”

You shrugged. “You treated me with the same contempt as the bastards I ran away from.”

“You treated me like I was dirt beneath your shoe and I didn’t deserve the time of day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. That simply was not true. He had always been cocky, and arrogant, and difficult. He acted as though mud wouldn’t stick to him, as though he could do what he liked, when he liked.

Suddenly, you didn’t want to be dancing with him anymore. Didn’t want his hands on you, simpering females or no.

He could go to hell.

“I never thought you didn’t deserve the time of day.” You contested tersely. “I—”

“I know.” He interrupted. Spun you around again. “I worked it out eventually.”

“Excuse me?”

“What your problem is.” Another dip.

You didn’t like this conversation — it’s direction. It would be easier to run away, to avoid it.

Easier, but cowardly.

“Pray, tell, General, what do you believe my problem is?” You stared at him.

He leaned down, just as the music faded. Poised his lips at your ear. “Jealousy.” He murmured, the word seeming deafeningly loud. “Sometimes the way you look at me makes me think that perhaps you don’t hate me that much.”

You knew your body stiffened between you. And as he pulled back and smirked, you also knew that he knew he’d won.

Whatever it was that glittered in his eyes was…knowledge. Knowing. An understanding. And that couldn’t mean anything good for you.

“Cassian?”

The two of you looked up upon the intrusion, only realising then that the music had stopped, and the dancing with it. A doe-eyed girl stared at the General with bright, sparkling hope in her eyes.

“I was hoping I might have the next dance.” She said.

You didn’t care anymore. You barely spared either of them a glance as you let go of Cassian and pushed out of his arms.

“He’s all yours.” You said.

And then you went to find some fresh air.

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“I’ll be sure to tell Rhys that you spent the evening skulking around on your own whilst I did all the posturing.”

You glanced at Cassian out of the corner of your eye. You weren’t interested in a verbal sparring match right now. The night air was pleasant on your skin, and you allowed it to cool your face, your neck. Allowed it to wash away the tension permanently coiled within your veins, if only for a few stolen moments.

“Go ahead”, was the only reply you offered.

Eyes pierced into you as you bathed yourself in the moonlight. Even with your own shut, you could sense Cassian watching, waiting. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anything beyond vague acknowledgement. Not now.

That seemed to fucking torture him.

“What—no smartass response?” He quipped.

“No, Cassian,” you sighed quietly. “No smartass response.”

He paused — seemed genuinely knocked silent for a moment — before he scoffed. “I don’t believe that for a second. Even in silence, I know you’re up to something. That scheming brain of yours—”

“This scheming brain of mine is exhausted.”

As your eyes flew open, you caught the way he faltered, a slight misstep, the barest ruffling of his wings. For all he was the General of War, the Lord of Bloodshed, you’d also observed him to be a profoundly emotional person. And that emotion sometimes won as he fought to hide it.

This emotion…it was ire. Gone was the sharp-edged teasing. He found issue with your words, and his jaw gave a telltale tick.

“What could you possibly be exhausted by?” he scoffed. “You need only turn up looking like a fucking goddess and people respect you. You’re not some lowly, bastard-born brute. You don’t get sneered at simply for breathing—”

“You believe people respect me?”

“Of course they do!”

“You don’t.”

He stumbled — actually stumbled — and it was only that which alerted you to the way he’d been inching towards you. But his steps faltered, and he gaped at you like your revelation was entirely out of pocket. Like you had no reason to feel that.

“You have never respected me.” You held firm on your point, even if your voice was a tad quieter. “I fled a fucking viper’s den and ran to Rhysand’s court, hoping to find a sense of…of belonging. But you…” A soft, rueful chuckle shuddered out of you. “You have made it your mission to ensure that would not be the case.”

Slowly, Cassian’s brow pinched. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming to search for the right words. “That…isn’t how it went…”

“It is,” you shrugged. “You said I treated you like dirt — perhaps, unintentionally, I did. Perhaps it was a defence mechanism, because I never expected to flee absolute hell and come face-to-face with a male that I immediately wanted.”

There they were — the words out in the open. The truth wedged itself between you like a glaring, unmissable sign. You had never hated Cassian. Quite the opposite.

“I thought that I would never want another male in that way again.” You revealed hoarsely. “I thought I would live a life content with just…being me. With friends and nothing more. But that first day I met you, I walked in and I…I knew. I felt it.”

Cassian blinked, slowly shaking his head. “What…”

“And then you were so hostile, and I thought that maybe that was a good thing. That it would discourage me from feeling things. But I must be a fucking glutton for punishment, because no matter how cold you were towards me, my feelings only grew. And I tried…I tried so hard to shift them into hate, but I couldn’t. I’ve never been able to. I simply…can’t.”

The way he stared at you…so hardened, so severe…you couldn’t get a read on the reaction. But then…had you ever really been able to get a read on him?

“You were right…what you said about me being jealous,” you swallowed. “I was. I am—”

“That was…just a joke…I was just being a dick—”

“No,” you shook your head. “You were right. I was jealous in there, and I’m always jealous when people flirt with you. When I see you smile at them and joke with them and I shouldn’t wish it was me but I do. These feelings are constant. And that, Cassian…that is why I am exhausted. It’s exhausting for me to know you.”

Silence.

It should have been a relief, to have finally shifted such heavy feelings from your shoulders. But they were like tangible beings, fogging the air around you, wrapping you and Cassian up in a situation that was complicated and ugly and not at all ideal.

You knew he would do nothing with your feelings…except maybe sneer at them, laugh at them, throw them back in your face. You expected nothing from him. And the longer the silence went on, the more you began to wish that you could steal your confessions back. Shove them deep back into that narrow part of your heart that was still capable, somehow, of feeling such things.

You cleared your throat, tweaking the pretty, delicate gloves that covered your hands and forearms. “We should…head back inside.”

You breezed past him, suddenly desperate for the mindless chaos of the throne room. But you’d only managed a few steps forward before Cassian was gripping onto your arm and yanking you back.

Your dress fanned out as he spun you around, and a breath pushed out of you as he slammed you against the nearest wall, the cold brick biting into the fabric of your dress.

Before you could say anything, he was dipping down, his mouth sliding over yours.

Cassian kissed you deeply, punishingly, his lips moulding to yours perfectly. You gasped against him, and his tongue slid into your mouth to dance with yours, his rough, rugged taste invading you.

You’d thought about this moment a ludicrous amount. You’d imagined what the weight of his lips might be like, how perfectly his tongue might duel with yours. Nothing — no amount of imagining — could prepare you for the reality. The sense of rightness as his hand coasted up to clasp the back of your head, his fingers sinking into your hair. He gave a gentle tug, and you moaned in immediate response.

Air, it seemed, was not important. Not as you kissed him back feverishly, gripping at his shirt in an attempt to pull him as close against you as he could possibly get. The press of his hard body against yours was pleasure in itself. You nipped his lip, desperate for more, more, more, and he groaned in response.

This — this could very well spiral out of control, and you would welcome it. You wanted him to tear your clothes off and take you against this wall. You wanted him to make you feel like he wanted you, like it wasn’t exhausting to know him—

But there was suddenly emptiness and coldness. And it took your mind a moment to catch up and realise that he had pulled away.

Not far. Just enough to stare down at you, his deep hazel eyes flaring and furious. His panting breaths sawed out of him, landing directly on your lips and making you desperate for another taste. You tilted your head up—

He shook his head. Stepped back.

“No,” he murmured, voice gruff. “No. You…you are very bad for me.”

Your entire body turned cold at the words. Words that sliced at you, reminiscent of ones you’d heard before. “What?”

“You’re bad for me,” he repeated. “And I am very bad for you.”

“Cassian—”

“Don’t—don’t even say my name.”

With a swiftness that sent a gust of wind rustling the skirts of your dress, he turned, wings flaring and launching him into the star-speckled sky above you. You gaped at his retreating figure, flying off into the night, leaving you alone not only in that courtyard, but in the fucking Court of Nightmares.

Your mouth had turned dry, your skin cold. You lingered out there long after Cassian had flown off, waiting to see if he would come back. Pathetically hoping he would.

He did not.

And as you conceded, slipping your courtier mask back into place and turning to retreat back inside, his words rang like a deafening klaxon in your head.

You are very bad for me.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fic #cassian #cassian x reader fic #cassian angst #reader insert #cassian x reader #cassian x you #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acourtofwhatthefuck #acotar angst #angst

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chaos-in-deepspace · 19 hours

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L&DS Rafayel: Pouty Portraits | Drabble

So @la-spooky ended up inspiring me to make this little drabble of the fish on accident. You know, when inspiration hits, you go with it. Now personally I can't draw at all, my artistic talents ends at being able to string words into pretty stories, but I hope you artists out there enjoy this. Even if you don't consider yourself an artist and just doodle, this is for you.

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader Warning: N/A Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

Art was something of a guilty pleasure. You wouldn’t say you were an expert at it, especially not when compared to your boyfriend, Rafayel, but you certainly weren’t bad at it by any means. It was just something you couldn’t do often; you had your career to think about, which would always come first. It was something you had to sacrifice in order to stay focused on your mission, even if it was painful.

Still, as you relaxed in the studio, bored out of your mind, you couldn’t help but want to go back to those days where you’d laze about your room with a sketchpad and some music to keep you company. You looked over at your boyfriend who was promptly passed out on the couch after having pulled another all nighter. He had invited you over for a date, but by the time you arrived exhaustion had already taken him.

You hadn’t the heart to wake him up, so you did your best to entertain yourself until he woke up. Originally you had taken to playing on your phone, a few mobile apps and social media was enough to catch your attention for a while. The longer you sat around though, the more tempted you had gotten.

Rafayel had his studio littered with sketchbooks in every corner so he’d never have to worry about looking for one when inspiration hit. You were certain he wouldn’t notice a few pages going missing after you ripped them out.

With that in mind, you grabbed hold of one of the sketchbooks that had been teasing you, and some pencils to sketch with. You flipped open the pages, your heart blooming with affection at the gorgeous sketches that were in the book. You finally found a blank page and sighed. It almost felt like you were committing a crime, drawing in a sketchbook like this. His artwork was flawless, and you…well you could draw at least.

You sighed and grabbed your phone, popping in some headphones and listening to music. You took one more glance at your sleeping boyfriend before deciding to just draw him. So you did, mainly just several headshots to help you get into the groove of making art.

You didn’t even know how much time had passed as you moved to the third page, ready to draw your sleeping boyfriend since he was right there. Your eyes went upwards to where he was…or had been. You blinked in confusion, noticing Rafayel was noticeably not on the couch anymore.

Your head swiveled for a moment before suddenly you were staring directly into those sunset eyes. Your own widened in surprise and your brain buffered before you let out a shrill scream. You clutched the book close to your chest as you backed up. You could hear Rafayel's jovial laughing through your headphones, which you promptly ripped out to scold him.

“Raf, what the fuck, when did you wake up?” You said, glaring at him. Amusement swam in those beautiful eyes of his as he reached over and took the sketchbook out of your hands.

“Were you drawing me?” He said, looking at the pages of headshot sketches you had done. You felt a small blush creeping up your cheeks as you tried to be stern with him.

“Answering my question with a totally off topic question isn’t what I wanted, you know.” You huffed, going to take the book back, but he pulled it closer to him.

“These are really good, you captured my essence perfectly…why didn’t you ever tell me you could draw?” Rafayel said, never looking up from the sketches. You groaned and looked away, feeling bashful as a true, recognized artist looked at your crude warm up pieces.

“It’s just an old pastime of mine, nothing more.” You said, “Sorry I used your stuff, I should’ve asked.” You admitted.

“What’s mine is yours.” He said offhandedly, “Still, can I keep these? I really like them.” He said and you looked confused for a moment before nodding.

“If you really want to, I guess you can. They’re in your sketchbook after all.” You shrugged, “Why would you want them anyway? You could do a way better self portrait.”

“I don’t want a self portrait made by me…although I have to ask why did you draw this expression on me?” He said, pointing at all of your sketches having a similar theme.

“Your pouting face was…inspiring.” You settled on; Rafayel didn’t look amused by this, in turn showing you that adorable pout. He looked away for a moment before getting an idea. A smile gracing his pretty face.

“Well how about you do a proper drawing of me.” He started, leaning close with a sly grin, “You can draw me from reference. I’ll sit however you want, just make sure to get my good angle…wait never mind, that would be all my angles.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you fought your inner emotional turmoil, “Okay, but it won’t look good, you know?” You pointed out. Rafayel's eyes furrowed in a confused expression, his hand cupping your chin to make you look at him.

“Anything you make is breathtaking.” He said, “I wouldn’t ask anyone to draw me. I’m very selective. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Cocky bastard.” You said, but didn’t bother to slap his hand away, “But fine…I’ll sketch you but on one condition.”

Rafayel smirked, “And what would that be?”

“Later you…need to give me a drawing lesson or two.” You said and his eyes widened in surprise before taking a soft turn.

“Sure, but why are you suddenly so interested in drawing when you said it was just a pastime…unless you deceived me earlier.” He said, trying to lighten the mood. He could see the unsure expression on your face as you stared off to the side.

“Because drawing like this again reminded me how much I enjoyed it.” Even though you knew you needed to focus on being a good hunter and a steller bodyguard…perhaps you can give yourself some enjoyment in your life again. Art was freeing and you had dearly missed it.

Rafayel's hand was still on your chin as he forced your eyes back on him. He pressed his forehead against your own and stared into your eyes, “Anytime you want to relax and draw, just let me know.” He said, clearly realizing just how stressed you had been.

You smiled, relaxing into his touch, “Fine…shall we get started? Things are getting a bit too depressing in here.” You joked. Rafayel's grin seemed to spread once more.

“Sure…so did you want to do a nude sketch ooooor?”

“Oh my god Raf, just lay on the damn couch…clothes on.”

Hope y'all enjoyed this one! It was fun to write, and honestly I think formatting this took longer than the actual writing lol.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Rafayel Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Rafayel #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #rafayel x reader #l&ds #l&ds rafayel #l&ds rafayel x reader #lads x reader #lads rafayel #lads rafayel x reader

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kevinsdsy · 23 hours

Text

“sometimes riko let kevin stay with him afterward.”

kevin’s gaze moved over jean in a slow sweep, taking stock of his injuries. jean knew better than to look for anger in his stare; the best kevin could manage was bottomless guilt. kevin had seen worse than this before. sometimes riko let kevin stay with him afterward.

jean could barely breathe. every short breath he took required so much effort that he didn't know how he normally did it with such ease. he felt like he was dying, but that was such a familiar feeling that he worried he must wake up tomorrow anyway. kevin’s green eyes were as distracting as they were alarming. if kevin was allowed to stay, jean must be looking like hell right now. he counted his breaths just to make sure he was actually breathing, and when he finally convinced himself he wasn’t going to take his last breath, he tried to get up.

he barely managed it, but with kevin’s help he was able to get himself up into a sitting position. kevin’s expression was as familiar as it was sickening. he had seen the bottomless guilt many times before.

i am jean moreau. i belong to the moriyamas. i will endure. jean knew his place. jean knew he would endure as much as riko needed him to. so why was kevin looking at him like that? how did kevin dare look at him with so much sympathy and guilt on his face that jean wondered if he deserved to be in this position. i am jean moreau. i belong to the moriyamas. i will endure. jean immediately cursed himself out for even letting the thought slip.

“jean…” jean huffed—it was the only response he could manage right now. “can you get up?” kevin silently asked in french. non. jean knew the answer already, but he still tried to get up. it was a desperate attempt, but kevin didn’t comment on it. “let’s get you to the wall. it’s just gonna be a few steps.” kevin assured him. the few steps felt like a mile, but with kevin’s help jean managed to place his back to the wall which gave him some kind of balance. kevin sat next to jean and jean turned his face to kevin. kevin took this as his chance to softly take jean’s face in his hands and place his fingers on jean’s bottom lip. jean hadn’t even realised the familiar bitter taste on his lip was his own blood until he saw kevin’s hand. he sighed at the sight, turning his face away from kevin again to force his face out of his hands. “i don’t need your pity.” jean weakly demanded.

“so, what is it you need?” kevin asked. jean huffed; both kevin and jean knew it didn’t matter what he needed. it was an unfair question to ask, since it’d be impossible to consider his needs in the first place. jean wouldn’t even know what he needed; he had never given it much thought anyways.

jean placed his head on kevin’s shoulder. for a second he was thankful that the amount of pain he was in made it impossible for him to cry without increasing the pain in his lungs, so he didn't move and he didn't let any tears slip.

“how long?” jean asked after a long minute. kevin didn’t have to ask what he meant. it wasn’t the first time they were sitting like this, calculating how much time riko would allow them before losing his patience and temper again. “fifteen minutes, maybe, then he’ll start getting restless and annoyed about my soft behaviour towards you.”

“give me ten,” jean offered. that should give kevin enough time to get back to riko before riko would start itching for pain again.

“i’ll give you twenty,” kevin told him. "you need it."

jean knew he should ignore the peace offering so he could make check how bad his injuries actually were. instead he closed his eyes and let kevin softly nudge him awake when he was finally drifting away too far.

#the second i read this line my mind was working overhours to write something #this has been in the drafts since before the socmed au so let me just get over my nervousness about writing and clear it from the drafts #kevjean #kevin day #jean moreau #all for the game #aftg #the sunshine court #tsc #one shot

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rickittys · 3 days

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aight another thought: ricky switching from a soft dom to a hard dom (bcs you went bratty).

i’m like. not used to writing hard dom material? so this might come off as more jealous! or possessive!ricky so my bad o(-<

thinking about being his diamond plus one to a high fashion after-party with him. dressed to the nines in matching versace with custom made jewelry curtesy of your beloved ricky, you were basically glued to his side the whole night. <3 ricky enjoyed having his arm linked with yours, smile growing when he’d introduce you to partners and higher ups. “yeah she’s…even more breathtaking than the last time i looked at her. which was thirty seconds ago,” he’d gush, kissing your cheek while you grinned shyly.

at some point in the night, you briefly split up-ricky discussing the next season’s line with some designers while you spoke with a senior director and other partygoers. you were oblivious to the stares from various people at the event, some asking if you had a place to stay that night, if they could have your number, the works. from across the venue, ricky felt pricks of jealousy in his chest. it was like he teleported to your side as he made a show of tugging you by the waist. he rushed an excuse about an early flight the next day as he ushered you out.

once you arrived at your hotel room, you spun around in confusion. “and what was that all about?” you asked, brows furrowed. ricky was stripping off his clothes, staring at you with a gaze you couldn’t identify.

“did you..like getting all the attention from those guys back there?” he questioned, arms crossing. you tilted your head and after a moment, you laughed quietly. “oh baby, you feeling jealous?”

he didn’t answer, running a hand through his hair. you pouted, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “i mean,” you begin, pressing a hand to his chest, “i felt a bit like marilyn monroe, i won’t lie.” you giggle as a look of irritation graced his face.

“oh so the attention i give you isn’t satisfactory, huh?” he raised an eyebrow, leaning over you. you blinked up at him playfully.

“i wouldn’t say you’re lacking by any means,” you drawled. “but-“

“you’re talking a lot for someone who’s gonna get fucked dumb,” he cut you off, pressing you against the desk to your side. it all happened so fast- your back slammed on the surface, panties torn open, and hands belted together.

you looked wildly up at ricky, everything suddenly feeling stifling hot. his sharp eyes were glazed over with lust and a hint of anger, his buldge rubbing against you while he sucked hickeys on your neck and nipped your nipples. “might need to shut you up, make you behave a bit, huh baby? got a smart mouth but you’ll still scream just for me, right?”

his taunting made you feel small yet very aroused, you panting his name and mumbling apologies of “i was just kidding” and “you know i didn’t mean it, ricky…”

“yeah?” he growled, shifting. a loud yelp left you as he yanked you legs up and back, folding you in half. “maybe you can convince them too- i’ll have you screaming loud enough for them to hear.”

#💌 ⊹ ࣪ ˖#adri⊹ ࣪ ˖#shen ricky smut #ricky smut #zb1 smut #zb1 hard hours #zb1 hard thoughts #zerobaseone smut #zerobaseone hard hours #zerobaseone hard thoughts

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sequinsmile-x · 3 days

Text

Smoke Signals

On better days, when the good outweighed the bad, when she could see the innocence in her sons’ eyes or sat with her husband on the porch swing he’d built for her just because she said she wanted one, she liked to think she’d earned this. That everything she’d ever been through, every terrible, awful, thing had led her right to this.

Emily has a bad day, hundreds of miles away from Aaron, and he goes to see her.

-x-

Hi friends <3

This is dedicated to all my pals on Twitter (I will never call it X haha) who asked very nicely for a fic along these lines haha and the idea wouldn't leave me alone. Plenty of soft Hotchniss - which I think is perfect for a Friday night.

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: None!

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs as she steps into her hotel room. Her shoulders slump as soon as she’s behind the closed door, the weight she’d been pretending wasn’t pressing on them all day forcing her forward towards the bed. She huffs as she sits on the edge of it, leaning forward and pressing her elbows onto her knees and her face into her hands.

It had been a long day at the end of a long few weeks. Back-to-back cases, each more awful than the last, and interpersonal issues on the team had left her more wrung out than she had been in as long as she could remember. She’d spent much less time with her family than she wanted to, recently all too fleeting moments with her husband and children that just weren’t enough to counteract everything else. Seeing them, spending time with them and reminding herself of all the good there was in the world, the innocence she’d never failed to find in the laughter of one of her sons or the smile they’d all inherited from her husband an essential part in warding off her bad days.

It was something that had started years ago when Aaron was simply her friend she’d been in love with for as long as she could remember. He’d shown up on her doorstep the morning after she’d told him she had a bad day, a conversation between the two of them on the jet that she never could have anticipated would turn into everything it had. It was a moment she could trace it all back to, the first glimpse of radical honesty between the two of them that had started to shift their relationship into what it now was. He knocked on her door so early she was still in her pjyamas, his eyes wide as she opened the door as if that was the first moment he’d considered she might have still been in bed when he got there.

He’d asked if she wanted to go for breakfast, to have a conversation with someone who understood at least some of what she’d been through, an unusually vulnerable smile on his face as he looked down at her doormat as he said he knew what it was like to feel unsafe in his home. She’d said yes without really thinking about it, finally pulling the door open to let him into her apartment and she’d smiled shyly at him, hyper-aware of how short her sleep shorts were as she told him she needed to go change and that he could sit in the living room whilst he waited.

When she walked out of her bedroom and found he’d cleaned her kitchen, dishes she’d ignored for days washed and dried and the surfaces wiped down. It was the first time she thought he might love her too.

She blows out a breath as she pulls her phone out of her pocket, a genuine smile ghosting across her face at the picture she had set as her wallpaper. It was taken just a month ago at Jack’s 14th birthday party. He was standing in between Emily and Aaron, wide smiles on all of their faces. Issac was standing in front of Aaron, proudly displaying his gap-toothed grin, his first baby tooth having come out just the week before, and Elliot was sitting on Emily’s hip - the 4-year-old always keen to be as close to his mother as possible. She gives herself a second to stare at it, to run her finger over their faces, to try and absorb some of the good that radiated off of them through the screen, and then she unlocks it, searching for her husband’s contact so she can call him.

He’d retired when Issac was born 6 years ago.

They’d discussed it at length throughout her pregnancy, both of them aware that if they had made the choice to expand their family they had to make some changes, that it wasn’t fair to Jessica to continue to rely on her like they always had with Jack. They’d argued about who should leave the BAU more than once, each of them demanding it should be them. Eventually, Aaron had won out. He’d talked through her reasons for wanting to leave with her, helped her understand that her choosing to continue working wouldn’t make her turn into her mother. He knew without her having to say anything that was at the centre of her insistence to leave, that she wanted to break a cycle he knew she would never repeat, and he helped her through.

The day he’d retired had been bittersweet. It was the end of something, the end of a career he’d given so much to, that he’d lost so much to, but the start of something new. A beginning found in an end that even just a few years previously was a step he wouldn’t have taken. He’d told her one night, his head on her bump, his cheek pressed against her skin as Issac shifted under it, that he didn’t want to waste his second chance to have a family. That he felt lucky he’d been given one and he wouldn’t screw it up for anything.

It worked for them. She’d found it hard to go back to work after Issac, and she did again just a couple of years later when she had Elliot, but she adjusted. Got used to how her life looked now, how it all rested on the balance of the horrors she would see in her job, the difference she could make there, and the peace she found with her Hotchner boys. They were her port in the storm, the safety net she would always know was there, the home she’d never had until that early morning when Aaron knocked on the door of her old apartment.

She closes her eyes as she holds the phone up to her ear, her teeth clenched tight as she tries to fight off the tears burning at the back of her eyes. He answers on the second ring, his phone always close by when she was away, and she feels the hole in her chest bloom with love for him the second she hears his voice.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

She opens her eyes and tears spill down onto her cheeks. She immediately wipes them away, “Hi.”

She can practically hear his frown, can picture the look on his face, and she knows she’s been caught out with one word.

“What’s wrong?”

She wants to lie. She wants to tell him everything is fine, that she’s just tired, but she can’t bring herself to. A long time ago, she would have, but she can’t bring herself to lie. She hadn’t been able to for years. Not to him, not when the desire to talk things through with him, to bask in his comfort, outweighed the deeply ingrained need she had to save face.

She chokes out a noise between a laugh and a sob and she shakes her head, “It’s just…it’s been a bad day.”

“I’m sorry, Em,” he replies, and she wants nothing more than to sink into his embrace, to settle into the impossible warmth that followed him like a shadow. A sanctuary just for her and their sons, a place of safety she knows she could never live without again. “Bad case?”

She hums as she shifts up the bed, not bothering to take her shoes off as she sits on top of the bedding, her back now against the headboard.

“Terrible case,” she mutters, “The victims are all teenage boys, it all hits a little too close to home,” she says, purposely holding back the fact they were all sandy-haired and looked like their eldest, not wanting him to feel the way she was right now, “And the team are…” she laughs mirthlessly, “Let’s just say, I don’t know how you were the boss as long as you were.”

She disliked the politics of it, how the decisions she made even as the Unit Cheif had ramifications. It’s why she’d turned down a recent offer to become the Section Chief. She didn’t need the money and she definitely didn’t need the expectations that came with it, the hassle that inevitably came with getting any further up the food chain than she already was.

The team were tired, furious at the back-to-back cases as if she wanted to be here, as if she wouldn’t also rather be at home with her family. They’d barely slept and were all running on fumes so emotions were high and fuses were short. The slightest thing set each other off to make sniping comments over paperwork issues or disagreements about the profile they were building.

“Well,” he replies, his drawling voice enough to let her know he was smiling, that he was about to try and cheer her up, “At least you don’t have to try to manage you. I had that to deal with on top of everything else.”

She laughs, the sound escaping her before she can hold it back and she shakes her head even though he can’t hear her, “Hey,” she says, injecting purposeful indignation into her voice, “I always apologised in your favourite way.”

“You’re right, you did,” he says as he clears his throat, “Can I help?”

“Are the boys there?” She asks hopefully, wanting nothing more than to hear one of their voices, but Aaron sighs, letting her know without saying anything that she wouldn’t get a chance to speak to them tonight, “Oh, that’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he replies, “Zac and Eli are in bed. Jack is out with his friends with a strict curfew of about half an hour from now.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says, wiping fresh tears from her cheeks, “I think I’m just tired.”

“Try and get some sleep, Em. You’ll feel better for it.”

She hums and rests her head back against the headboard, blowing out a shaky breath, “Yeah,” she chokes on a laugh, “I could really do with a hug right now.”

He’s silent for a few seconds, and she briefly wonders if the call has dropped before he replies, “Well, the moment you get home I’ll hug you as much as you want to.”

A genuine smile spreads across her face and she presses her lips together to try and contain it, the expression at odds with how she was feeling, “Be careful what promises you make, honey. I’ll hold you to that.”

___

She can’t sleep.

She spends hours tossing and turning in her hotel bed, her frustration increasing with every passing minute that sleep evades her. She sighs as she looks at the clock on the nightstand and sees it’s just past 3.30 am, she sits up, growling in irritation as she runs her fingers through her hair. She’s about to consider just going back to the precinct, keen to get this figured out as soon as possible so she can get home, when she hears a knock on the door. She frowns, frozen in bed for a moment, wondering if she’s imagined it, when she hears it again. She climbs out of bed, adjusting an old t-shirt of Aaron’s that she’d brought to wear as pjyamas so it falls back into place over her thighs, and she walks over to the door.

She gasps as she looks through the peephole, her hands already undoing the locks on the door of their own volition, and she chokes out a laugh as she pulls it open and finds herself toe to toe with her husband.

“Aaron…” she says, shaking her head, “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if he shouldn’t currently be hundreds of miles away in their home, and he smiles at her, “You said you needed a hug.”

For a moment, it’s almost 8 years ago. She’s in her old apartment and he’s on her doorstep, the smile she would never have admitted to herself at the time made her stomach swoop painted across his face. His casual kindness fills the space between them as he offers his time up to her as if it weren’t one of the most precious things in the world.

She briefly wonders if she’s dreaming. If she fell asleep at some point and imagined that he was here, but the second he steps towards her, the door to her room closing behind them, and pulls her into his arms she knows it’s real. No matter how used to his touch she was, how much it was an essential part of her life, she was never able to get it right in her dreams. Her love for him, and his love for her, better than anything her subconscious could come up with even after years of real-life experience.

She sinks into his embrace, her face against his chest as he wraps his arms around her. She hooks her arms around his back, not caring that she’s slightly encumbered by the go-bag slung over his left shoulder, and she breathes him in. She settles into him, her eyes closed as he runs his hand up and down her back and kisses the top of his head. Her brain finally catches up with her and she pulls back to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed together.

“Wait, what are you doing here?” She asks, “What about the boys?”

He smiles and raises his eyebrow at her and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, “14, 6 and 4 seemed like a good age to leave them alone for the first time,” he quips, his smile only getting wider when she glares at him, “Garcia is currently sleeping in our spare room and I’m assuming the breakfast she’ll make for them tomorrow will have more sugar in it than we usually allow them in a week.”

She laughs weakly, “Pen came over?”

He nods as he lets her go briefly enough to re-lock the door to the room and then he guides her to the unmade bed, his bag joining hers on the floor, “I called her, told her I was worried, and before I could even ask she was already suggesting she came over to stay with the ‘Mini Hotchs.’”

She shakes her head, “This once I’ll let the nickname for the boys slide,” she shifts as closely to him as she can, “How did you even get here? We spoke 6 hours ago you couldn’t have possibly got a flight in that time.”

“I drove,” he replies, hooking his arms around her shoulders, resting his cheek on top of her head, “The roads were quiet.”

She hums and reaches for his hand to press their palms together, forever obsessed with the difference in size, how it never failed to make her feel safe, “I guess it's lucky I was on the East Coast.”

“I would have driven to the other side of the country if you needed me, sweetheart. There’s nowhere I wouldn’t go and nothing I wouldn’t do.”

She looks up from their hands and is unsurprised to find sincerity splashed across his face, love for her almost seeping from his pores. She cups his cheek and drags him in for a kiss, sighing contentedly into it as his hand skips up her thigh and lands on her hip. She pulls away and rests her forehead against his.

“Thank you,” she says, the words feeling inadequate, “I…you didn’t have to-”

“Yes I did,” he replies, cutting her off as he pulls back to look at her properly, his palm on her cheek as he smiles softly at her, “You were having a bad day.” He makes it sound so simple that it makes her ache, tears gathering in her eyes again as she shakes her head at him, overwhelmed by the love he had for her, for their family, that sometimes still didn’t feel real. He wipes away her tears as they slip from her lashline, “Hey, you’re okay, Em,” he says, tucking her against his side as he pulls her so close she ends up in his lap, the material of his jeans scratching against her bare thighs, “I’ve got you.”

She cries like she never would in front of anyone else, her face warm and sticky against his neck as she sinks into him and the comfort he always brought. She had spent most of her life without love like this and thinking she’d never get it. She never thought she would have someone who would love her enough to drop everything and drive to her just because she said she needed a hug. It overwhelms her and it makes her wonder what she’d ever done to deserve it, to deserve him. On better days, when the good outweighed the bad, when she could see the innocence in her sons’ eyes or sat with her husband on the porch swing he’d built for her just because she said she wanted one, she liked to think she’d earned this. That everything she’d ever been through, every terrible, awful, thing had led her right to this.

“It’s so stupid that I’m crying,” she says, sniffing as she extracts her face from his neck, “It’s just a bad day.”

“It’s never just a bad day, sweetheart,” he says, wiping her cheeks, “And is it we always tell the boys?”

She smiles, her cheeks warm as he uses the comforting tone he always used when the boys were sad or hurt, “That their feelings aren’t stupid.”

“Exactly,” he says, leaning forward and stamping a kiss against her lips, “So yours aren’t either,” he stands up and offers her a hand, pulling her up as she accepts it and she immediately leans against him, “You need some sleep, we both do,” he says, running his fingers through her hair, “Is it fair to assume you haven’t slept at all?”

She narrows her eyes as she pulls back from him, “You think you know me so well.”

He smiles and kisses her, “I do. Very well,” he kisses her again and pulls back, “Get into bed, I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

She nods and separates herself from him. It feels almost impossible, as if a magnetic pull is dragging her back towards him, but she does it, climbs back under the covers she’d found no rest in so far that evening. She watches as he gets changed, her eyes flicking over long-healed scars, the marks on his skin as familiar to him as her own, before they get covered with his pjyamas. He slips into bed next to her and she immediately curls up around him, her head on his chest and her leg thrown over his hip. She hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around her, one of his hands on her thigh and the other on her back, his palm warm through the material of her t-shirt.

“Elliot made friends with the new kid at preschool today,” Aaron says, his lips against her forehead, his hand running soothing circles on her back, gently lulling her to sleep with his touch and his soft words about his son, a story from home that he knew she needed without needing to be told, “He told me all about it when he got home.”

She smiles, love for her youngest blooming in her chest, the flowers of it almost making it hard to breathe, and not for the first time, she wondered how she had made someone so perfect, “He did?”

“He did,” he confirms, kissing her forehead before he carries on, “He said he showed her around and gave her part of his cookie.”

She sighs contentedly as she closes her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep as he tells her about their son’s day at school, his voice and touch soft as he reminds her that even on the bad days she has good things in her life.

-x-

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spideyanakin · 8 hours

Text

10 things i hate about you - chapter 6

eddie munson x harrington!reader

summary - a new rule strikes the Harrington household: if Steve wishes to date ever again, his sister needs to find a boyfriend first. As Steve becomes desperate and thinks of everything in his power to set her up, only one guy comes to mind that will take up a challenge such as that: Eddie Munson.

warnings - the moment you have all been dreading (I'm half sorry), mentions of death, some fluff, angst

word count - 8.8k

series masterlist

eddie munson masterlist

"Eds!" Gareth clapped his hands in front of his friend's face.

“What?”

"You're sulking"

"I'm not sulking."

"Why are you sulking?"

There was a pause, a short, challenging silence slithering between the trays of food and drinks before Eddie spoke again with solemn words; "I think I'm in love with her."

And just as the words left Eddie's lips; Gareth huffed loudly alongside two other Hellfire boys. Gareth sent a piercing glare towards his dungeon master–ripping a piece of white bread from his tray and throwing said piece towards Eddie’s face, making it land in his curls.

“Hey! What was that for?” Eddie swatted the bread away, watching with raised eyebrows as his three closest friends fished for something in their pockets; simultaneously pulling out twenty dollar bills. Eddie watched, eyebrows creasing to a frown as the three twenty dollar bills traveled across the table; right into Oliver’s hand.

"Did you have to say love?" Jeff whined.

"Yeah, the bet was lower at like, or really liked," Gareth gruffed, Oliver simply shrugged while Eddie stared—too dumbfounded to speak. The blonde guitarist counted his money before neatly folding it and placing it in his back pocket.

"I'm going to pretend like you guys haven't betted on me," Eddie said before poking his fork around his plate, attention focused on the carotte he was making dance across the paper. “Anyways, it’s not that bad, you guys should be happy for me!”

"Yes it's bad, terrible even!" Oliver dropped his can of mountain dew, drops spilling out from the harsh clatter of it against the table–and Eddie gulped when he made eye contact with the daggers in Oliver’s eyes.

Unfortunately, all his lost heart could do was look back at him like a lost puppy–big eyes pleading for help rather than judgment, and just for a moment–Oliver caved.

A short sigh escaped the blonde’s lips, and he leaned back on his chair in thought. That action caused a new silence, one filled with short huffs and glances from the boys; right until Eddie broke it again.

"I know," he pushed his tray away before leaning back, imitating his guitarist, "I don't know what to do."

"Call the deal off?" Gareth suggested.

"Yeah, that's the most obvious thing, Gareth!" Eddie almost screamed. "One problem; Steve keeps handing me bills like he’s a fucking ATM machine. I have three hundred fucking dollars from him that I refuse to use!"

"I thought that's what you wanted, extra cash," Oliver’s voice was dry, and it almost made Eddie flinch.

"I don’t think I ever took the deal for the money…” He closed his eyes, sighing through his nose, “I think she kind of always fascinated me.”

“So, let me get this straight. Instead of just asking the girl out, you made a deal with her brother that he’d pay you to go out with her?”

“Kind of?” He winced at his own words. “I didn’t realise how fucked up this whole situation was!”

“As if we hadn’t warned you!” Olivier exclaimed, tone almost condescending which sent a new pang across Eddie’s chest.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t need judgment from his best friends, his own internal turmoil was enough.

He was asking for help and Oliver was throwing hard cold judgment across his face like the iced daggers he’d write about for his campaigns.

He felt like Boromir. Tempted by the worst of forces–hypnotized by his mistakes, too enticed to step back–and now he was paying the consequences, as invisible arrows were shot right through his heart.

“Hey calm down Ol’,” Gareth defended, humming in the best soothing tone he could muster; “screaming at Eddie won’t make this any better for him.”

“Right, because he so understood when we told him this was a bad idea three weeks ago,” and with his words, the table fell silent.

Everyone looked at each, carefully assessing the situation and how to proceed. Would anyone dare to break the silence? Even Jeff wondered if he could chew his food and finish his lunch without all eyes turning to him.

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest in subconscious defense—gaze to the side and fixed on the back of a random blue cafeteria chair.

He truly didn’t know what to do. Everything in him wanted to cancel this stupid deal, tell you the truth and just hope that you wouldn’t hate him forever.

Or maybe he could call the deal off and never say a thing—but he’d have to live with that secret for the rest of your relationship.

But thinking about the possibility that you could discover the deal on your own made him shiver. He knew that would hurt you the most, that you’d most, probably, definitely hate him for the rest of your days, and he could say goodbye to ever even being close to you again.

“Hey boys,” your sweet voice broke the undeniable tension, and like a bee pulled towards honey; Eddie turned his full attention to you.

He didn’t know if you noticed the energy, but if you did you didn’t say anything. He did notice your shoulder tense as every eye around the table turned to you, an oldy intimidating silence slithering up your spine–but the second Eddie’s hand reached your waist, it dissolved into a content smile.

“What were you talking about, I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“Spring Fling.”

“Our next performance.”

“A campaign.”

Eddie flinched, internally cringing at the multitude of answers that rang across the table at the same time.

“O-ok?” You raised an eyebrow, hand resting against Eddie’s shoulder–silently asking for clarification.

“Mainly, Spring Fling, babe,”

“Ah,” you squeezed his shoulder, already pouting before the next words came out of you, “will you be mad if I say no to going?”

“I get you for not wanting to go,” Oliver chimed before chugging the end of his mountain dew.

“Yeah, staying home too?” You asked.

“Oh no, I’m going, don’t know why though,” and as the words left his mouth, he eyed knowingly at Gareth.

“See, Eddie! Olivier is going! Gareth is saved! We don’t have to go!” You squeezed his shoulder and Eddie gulped. This was not going to be easy.

“Y-yeah,” he could barely reply and Gareth shot him a quizzical look.

Eddie was digging his grave right then and there.

He really needed to break that damn deal.

“Hey Y/n,” Nancy caught up with you, ponytail bouncing as she ran the short distance between the cafeteria door and the lockers.

“What’s up?” You smiled once she was at your level, closing your locker and tightening the notebooks you were holding as you continued your way through the mass of students.

“Have you seen Barb?”

“No,” you frowned. “I haven’t seen her all day, actually, I was going to ask you. She didn’t have lunch with you?”

You watched her frown deepen, “no, she wasn’t there, I sat with Steve and his friends. I–um I haven’t seen her since yesterday at your place.”

“Oh, well I’m sure she’s fine, probably called in sick or something,” but your words didn’t soothe Nancy’s worries.

“I called her mom,” she averted her stare from yours.

“And?”

“She didn’t come home yesterday, or this morning.”

“Oh,” your heart sank down to your stomach, the uneasy feeling threatening to swallow you whole.

“Are you sure she left your place last night?”

“Yeah,” you matched her frown. “You don’t think-?”

“That she disappeared like Will?”

“I don’t know… This whole situation just seems odd…” You looked around, maybe in search of something, just to be met with the mass of students that walked through the maze of hallways that was Hawkins High. No one seemed bothered; no one looked worried or stirred by what was silently unfolding in the city.

“Yeah…”

You brought your gaze back to Nancy, trying to hunt for a topic to change the subject–anything that could hook both your attentions elsewhere.

Then you saw it: the bright pink and yellow poster for Spring Fling. You huffed, ripping the poster from the wall and crumbling the paper, just to throw it in the nearest trash. An attempt at rebellion, maybe.

“Who the heck would go to that antiquated mating ritual.”

“I would!”

“Do you seriously want to get all dressed up so some rando with a boner dressed up in the first suit he found at Gap can feel you up while you’re forced to listen to a band that by definition ‘blows’?”

She scoffed, “the rando in question is your brother, may I add.”

“My brother?” You raised your eyebrows, “but I’m not going, he won’t be allowed to go.”

“You’re not?” She squeaked, eyes darting to your hands as you unfolded the wires of your walkman. “Steve told me you would. I think he assumed Eddie asked you.”

“Steve has no business assuming what I will or will not do, and Eddie has asked me, I told him no.”

“Why? I thought you liked Eddie.”

“Going with someone I like, still doesn’t change the fact that I find these gatherings dumb,” you accentuated your words by harshly placing your headphones around your neck, and locking your walkman onto your backpocket.

“Are you sure you won’t go? Just for me? Just so Steve will go, and by extension I will?” Her big blue eyes pleaded, lips forming into a pout, and for a split second you faltered, wondering if you could do this for your friend.

“I’ll see.”

“You are incorrigible,” she rolled her eyes, already knowing this meant no.

“Indeed I am,” you looked around, gaze flickering from the lockers to Nancy, “so do tell me, you and Steve last night, hm?”

“Oh, shut up!” Her shriek made you giggle, and you would have continued teasing her if not for the hands that latched onto your waist, you jumped, shrieking before feeling yourself getting picked up into the air.

You immediately recognized the laugh that echoed in your ear, and Nancy’s smile gave the owner of those hands even more away.

“Eddie, let me down!” You giggled in echo with him, hands wrapping around his own before he dropped you back on your feet.

“Don’t you have a class to get to?” You mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Mrs. Day called in sick, I have a free period.”

“Oh lucky,” you hummed, shoulders slumping at the anticipation of your next hour.

“Eddie?” Nancy spoke, making Eddie’s curls brush your cheek as he turned to face your friend. “Have you seen Barb by any chance?”

“Not since yesterday,” he shook his head and he sensed the way you tense up in his arms. “Everything ok?”

“We think she’s missing.”

“Missing? Like the Byers kid?”

“According to her mom, she didn’t come home last night, and skipping school isn’t like her,” Nancy bit her lip as she looked to the side.

“I mean, maybe she did. I’m not one to say that skipping school isn’t fun,” Eddie concluded, smirking slightly. He knew that this subject was reaching a dead end, and he sighed before turning his attention back to you. “What are you doing after school?”

“Nothing, why?”

“I found this new card game at the comics shop, and maybe if the game gets boring I can teach you D and D.”

“Are you asking me out on a game date?”

“Are you saying yes?” Instead of answering directly with words, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, muttering your answer as you pulled away.

“If you two will stop face fucking in the hallway, we’ve got class,” maybe it was jealousy that your brother wasn’t as sweet as Eddie picking at her stomach, or the stress from Barb stacking up, but she ripped her stare away from the two of you to stare at bright blue lockers on the other side.

“Sorry,” you giggled, slipping out of Eddie’s arms after stealing one last kiss.

“I’ll see you after class, Eds.”

“What do you think they’re up to?” Your hand gripped Eddie’s a little tighter as you watched your brother and his friends laugh towards Johnathan. The poor Byers brother was being thrown around by the greedy hands of your idiot brother, the grim look on his face turned to disgust and anguish. You watched your brother, a loud chuckle ripping from his mouth. Your frown deepened as Tommy gave him one last push, Steve snatching pieces of paper from his grip.

Jonathan watched as Steve and Carol ripped to shreds the papers, they all laughed one last time; Tommy giving him a last cruel shove that almost made him trip before walking away.

You took closer steps towards the parking–maybe in a quick attempt to help, but unfortunately, the group was walking right for the two of you, waltzing away from the mess they created towards god knows where.

“What did you do?” You grumbled as your path crossed your brothers, glancing behind his shoulder to spot Nancy jogging the distance between Johnathan and her group of new so-called friends.

“You’ll never guess, the perv took pictures of us yesterday!”

“What?”

“He was in the woods by our place, snapping pictures of us in the pool, even snapped shots of Nancy while she was changing.”

“Why?” You raised your eyebrows, squeezing Eddie’s hand.

“Caus’ he’s a perv?” Carol snickered, “and that’s all he’s found to do with his miserable life?” Tommy chuckled at his girlfriend’s words, and they disappeared behind you again, snickering as they left towards the field behind the High School building.

“Weird,” you muttered, watching Johnathan getting back into his car and leaving.

“You think he took my good profile?” Eddie, like always, pulled you out of your thoughts with a dumb joke, making you snort and playfully shove his shoulder. “What?” He offered a new laugh and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go try this new card game, I’ve had enough of this place for the day,” you tugged at his arm, dragging him further towards your car.

“Understandable,” he muttered, watching as you toyed with your car keys. “Hey, how about we pass by Melvald’s first? Grab some snacks and stuff.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” your hand brushed his as you parted ways to climb in the driver’s seat.

Apart from the Metallica blasting from the speakers; the ride was quiet, peaceful almost, as you bathed in each other’s presence. It was nice, seeing the streets of Hawkins with someone you liked by your side–it almost all seemed less… daunting. It was soothing, knowing you’d get to have careless laughter over junk food and a pack of cards, letting the week’s worries and Steve’s torment slip away for just a few hours.

You almost smiled when the red writing of Melvald’s came to view, stomach already growling not with hunger, but envy for cookies and candies–anything that could be considered a bad excuse for a dinner.

You parked next to a mattered brown truck, mud stains on its wheels and rusty doors. Eddie placed a hand in his hair as he exited your car, a poor excuse at trying to tame his curls, but you smiled when his hair stayed as wild–it suited him better.

Your hand found his as you walked into Melvald’s. The shop seemed pretty empty apart from a few stray heads bopping out of aisles.

“Afternoon,” you smiled at the owner behind the counter, he nodded before you both headed for the cookie aisle, grabbing one of those cheap red plastic baskets on the way.

“What are your favorites?” You hummed playfully as you scanned the shelves.

“I’d say Oreos are good, or um,” he thought, fingers going over his lips in thought. “Chips Ahoy! I love Chips Ahoy”

“The white chocolate fudge ones are the best,” you turned to Eddie and watched his face turn in pure horror.

“What did you just say?”

“That the white chocolate fudge cookies are the best?”

“I think you hit your head too hard as a kid, sweetheart. The normal milk chocolate ones taste so much better.”

“Hey! That is so not true,” you pressed on.

“They’re so sweet,” he scrunched his nose, “makes you sick if you eat too much.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, jokingly vexed at his hatred for your favorite.

“Oh my god, I used to love these as a kid,” Eddie’s face lit up as his eyes crossed paths with the a small white cardboard box, big smiles drawn over it.

“Says the guy who called White Fudge Chips Ahoy too sweet,” you narrowed your eyes as he picked up the pack of Giggles from a shelf.

“You don’t want to get them?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No, no. I still love these, put them in,” you grinned, raising the basket so he could dump them in next to the pack of Oreos.

“What else should we take?”

“Drinks?”

“Yeah,”

In twenty minutes spent in the store, your basket was already full with enough food and drinks for the entire of Hellfire. Cans of coke laying against bright blue cookie packaging and other junk food that had caught your attention. Eddie had ended up carrying the basket when it got too heavy, and now it rested by his feet as you waited in line.

A middle aged woman was in front of you–a toddler in her arms as she fumbled with the coins in her wallet. The baby’s small hands were fumbling with strands of her red hair–babbling something as he watched his mother pay for her groceries.

You were so enthralled in the scene–trying to see how much strength the toddler could tug on the women’s red locks with, that you hadn’t noticed the familiar face settling in the cue behind Eddie. She was almost hidden behind a pile of boxes that laid upon one of her hands, the other gripping the bar of a shopping cart, and you only recognised her by her anxious sigh as she tried to balance the boxes in her grip.

“Oh, hey Joyce,” you smiled, a gentle smile that bled with your compassion and she suddenly turned her attention to you.

Eddie also turned his attention to her–immediately realizing who this was. He’d seen her behind the counter more times than he could count, and he was also eighty percent sure that Wayne briefly knew her from High School, remembering their short conversations from the hundreds of times he helped his uncle shop here.

“Oh! Y/n, I didn’t see you there!” She spoke, almost startled by your simple greeting.

She looked tired, like she hadn’t properly slept in days. Her hair poking all over the place, and she was anxiously tapping her foot against the white floor of Melvalds. You assumed she was off work with everything going on, since she wasn’t standing behind the counter like usual.

But what really caught your attention was the amount of Christmas lights she had gathered. At least twelve boxes had been stuffed in the kart, leaving no room for the five others that she held in her free hand. You couldn’t begin to wonder why she had bought everything out of the clearance section, but your heart ached as you watched her gaze falter to the window for a split second before going back to you. She shifted her grip on the boxes, and a new huff left her lips before she handed you a tight smile.

“Is Johnathan with you?” You wondered, eyes briefly going across the aisle visible from your spot in the line.

She shook her head, “he’s probably home right now,” you nodded at her words and watched as her gaze flickered around again–as if she was suddenly comfortable. Maybe it was the mention of her son; maybe a conversation or two about Will that caused tension to seep between them, when in fact they should be sticking together.

Her gaze faltered, becoming softer as she took new acknowledgment of you again. She sent a smile to you and turned to Eddie who was yet to talk.

“This is Eddie, my boyfriend,” you watched the expression on her face change–impressed, slightly surprised maybe.

“Wayne’s nephew right?”

“In the flesh,” Eddie smiled, politely nodding.

“Also I wanted to tell you,” you spoke again, Joyce’s gaze dancing back to yours. “If you need anything from us, you have my number, Joyce.” Her whole face softened, gratitude seeping in through her eyes.

“Thank you, honey,”

Eddie’s trailer felt just as you left it the day before. A cozy haven for the loneliest of souls to find refuge on cold nights. But to your surprise, Eddie didn’t remove his shoes once he crossed the threshold–he even told you to wait for him by the entrance with the multitude of bags filled with the sweets you’d bought.

You watched as the metalhead bounced across his living space, shedding his leather jacket on the living room chair after he had complained that the spring sun was suffocating him, before he disappeared to his room, and came back with a small blue and orange metal box. His card game.

“Follow me,” Eddie swept past you, grabbing the two shopping bags and jumping the small steps out of his trailer. You raised an eyebrow before following him through the grass patch around his trailer, passing through a laundry line that hosted a few band t-shirts that could only be Eddie’s, and tattered work jeans that you assumed were Wayne’s.

You intently watched as you both faced a small, thin ladder that climbed up to the trailer’s roof. “Can you take one?” you nodded as he handed you one of the plastic bags.

Eddie stuffed the small card game in his back pocket–you silently questioned him, he could have simply just put it in the bag he was holding. But that didn’t stop him from anything, and you carefully observed as Eddie hummed a ‘follow me’, before starting to climb the rusty ladder.

You landed on the roof with a huff, and noticed that Eddie had already settled himself on a far off corner, the plastic bag neatly placed next to his feet.

“Nice view,” you noticed. Smiling as you gazed across the sea of trailers, each painted in their own uniqueness. it was far off from the white picket fence houses–a sea of odd shapes and colors, but it was all the most comforting, lively even. Smoke coming out of barbecue grills, laughter spilling out of small backyards and the light breeze making the bright colored laundry dance.

“You like it?” He grinned as he admired you trot towards him.

“I love it,” you settled beside him on the floor, dropping your bag next to the other one and started fishing inside of it for your well earned snacks.

Your hands settled for a pack of oreos, settling it in your lap as you wiggled yourself to be more comfortable.

"This feels like that one Elton John song."

"Which one?" He raised a playful eyebrow.

"We sat on the roof," your soft voice hummed, slithering into the soft breeze and to Eddie’s ears.

“Kicked off the moss,” he hummed along with you, making a giggle escape your lips.

“You listen to Elton John?”

“On occasions,” he murmured, busying himself with the bag next to him to fish for a can of soda.

“Wow, didn’t take you for the Elton John type.”

“I’m a man of many mysteries,” he dramatically sighed.

“Shut up,” you giggled, rolling your eyes before grabbing your own can of coke–popping it open before finally speaking again, “so, that game of yours?”

“Yes!”

Eddie grabbed the small box from his pocket, eyes sparkling as he opened it and placed the lid at his side. He took the cards in his hands and started mixing them.

“So, rules are simple, I think.”

“You think?”

“I didn’t read the rules.”

“Eddie, you can’t play a game if you don’t know the rules,” you giggled, grabbing the box at his side and taking the paper out.

“The guy at the shop told me how to play it, I thought I’d remember.”

“You’re impossible,” you huffed, unfolding the little paper and scanning through the words. You raised an eyebrow, reading through the instructions, “ok, so,” you licked your lips in thought before looking at the cards in Eddie’s hands. “We have to start with the card that looks like the cross path thingy.”

“Ok,” Eddie listened before flipping through the cards and placing said card in between the two of you; right next to the oreo pack.

“Wait, Eddie.”

“What?”

“It’s from three to eight players,” you giggled. “Eddie, we can’t play.”

“What?” His eyes widen, ripping the rule book from your hands. “Oh,” he hummed, realization hitting. “Well, this sucks.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” you giggled, grabbing a new oreo.

He sighed, placing the cards back in their box before dropping them at his side, sharing a gaze with you.

“What should we do?”

“Dunno,”

The sun had started to set across the trailer park, and a tumble of giggles seemed to be the main theme of your afternoon. One lone cookie was left in the Chips Ahoy pack, and the stacks of plastic wrappers and cans were starting to pile up; a show of the evening slowly dying out into night.

“Ok, ok,” you giggled, leaning closer to Eddie. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you raised an eyebrow at his reply, a smirk dancing across your lips.

“I dare you to compliment your neighbor’s dinner,” your gaze traveled to the elderly couple eating in the garden beside Eddie’s trailer. They looked happy–a couple who danced through time together. You could faintly hear their conversation in the distance, but barely making out words, and if Eddie shouted just enough he could easily spring a conversation.

“That’s so stupid,” he grinned.

“I know,” you giggled back and Eddie rolled his eyes before turning around to face his neighbor’s garden.

He took a second to observe. The barbecue grill on the opposite side was still smoking from its use, and he spotted the home made burgers on their plates. That would be easy to compliment. Plus, Eddie didn’t mind, Wayne was on good terms with them, maybe less so Eddie as he often bothered them when playing guitar. But if the odd comment could bring a good laugh out of the two of you, then Eddie would gladly plunge into your dare.

“Hey! Mr. Carol!” The elder man turned from his grill as the call reached his ear. “Good job on the burgers! They smell amazing!” You had to place a hand over your mouth to stop the giggles from tumbling like a waterfall as you watched the poor man’s face twist in an awkward smile, both of his eyebrows raised to the sky as he watched his teenage neighbor send him a compliment from his trailer’s roof.

“Thanks Eddie.” The man awkwardly replied and Eddie saluted him before turning back around to you.

“Happy?”

“He looked so confused.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Eddie smiled with you, grabbing another oreo, before mumbling with a mouthful, “truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you smiled, keeping your gaze on Eddie as you grabbed the last Chip’s Ahoy, crumpling the wrapper in your hands and throwing it to the side to join the pile.

“I dare you to take off your top,” your eyes went wide at his request.

“And flash the whole trailer park?” You shrieked and a loud laugh tumbled from Eddie.

“Well, already you did it for me once,” he dramatically sighed, poking at your ribs, creating another laugh to leave you.

“I did it to save your ass.”

“I know, I'm only kidding,” he smirked. “I’ll keep that dare for another time,” he smiled, knocking at you before looking down at the oreo’s in between you, “I dare you to fill your mouth with as many oreos as you can.”

“and?”

“If you manage to put seven in without almost choking, you get a prize.”

“Why seven?”

“Because that’s my record.”

“That’s so stupid,” you noticed.

“C’mon, do your dare.”

You rolled your eyes, keeping eye contact as your hand traveled to the cookies. You grabbed one-easy. The next one slipping nicely against the second one. You couldn’t look at Eddie anymore, the look in his eyes was enough to make you laugh and want to spit out the whole thing. The next two managed to fit, somehow, and you could hear Eddie chuckling, your gaze focused on the blue wrapper in concentration.

But when you reached for the fifth one, about to place it in your mouth–you caved. Making eye-contact with Eddie. He was laughing like an idiot; watching your chipmunk cheeks with a devilish spark in his eyes. But that look was fatal, and a laugh climbed right through you, causing you to spit everything out to the side.

Eddie roared even more with laughter and you had to playfully slap his shoulder in order to keep yourself from laughing too.

“You lost, I’m so sorry,” he patted your shoulder, using his grip to bring you further towards him, kissing the side of your mouth.

“What was the prize?” You questioned, chewing the last bit of crumbs that were left in your mouth as you leaned against him.

“A private concert,”

“As if you don’t willingly do them, all the time.” he shrugged at your comment, making you smile and remember your game, “Eddie.”

“Yes?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth,”

“Tell me a secret,”

“Ok, I hate peas.”

“No,” you giggled, “tell me something real, something no one else knows,” you grabbed a twizzler, pointing to him with it once you had taken a good bite out of it.

“Ok,” he smirked, a mischievous glint passing by his gaze. The grip on your waist became tighter and he leaned even closer to you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear with his free hand before kissing your cheek. “You’re sweet,” he pressed a new kiss to your other cheek “and sexy,” a new kiss to your lips, “and completely hot for me,” you gasped a laugh.

“You are amazingly self assured, as anyone else told you that?”

“I tell myself that every day, actually,” he chuckled before locking your lips into a new kiss, and suddenly an invisible sting pulled him back to the reality of the pact he had made with your brother. “Come to the dance with me tomorrow.”

“Is that a request or a command?” You attempted to joke, but he continued.

“Come on, go with me.”

“No.”

“Why not?” He breathed out a sigh, toying with your fingers.

“I told you already, it’s a stupid tradition.”

“C’mon, people won’t expect you to go.”

“Eddie, why are you pushing this? What’s in it for you?” Maybe you wouldn’t have asked, but Barb’s words suddenly came bouncing into your mind, like an unstoppable bouncy ball hitting the walls of your brain and shuddering through your spine.

“Nothing, just the pleasure of your company.”

You paused at his words. Mind twirling in the multitude of possibilities. Eddie had been pushing this, but maybe that was just his attempt at trying to be a normal high school couple.

Would Eddie really want this? Would Eddie really enjoy a gathering full of sweaty hormonal teenagers, with no alcohol, weed or anything else you could think of that he’d use for a good time, all that mixed with awful music? You couldn’t be sure, and you were getting anxious about an ulterior motive.

Barb had made it clear she didn’t trust Eddie, and your heart pinched at the thought.

You sighed, eyes dancing across the setting sun as it reached further down the sky, casting yet a new glow of colors across the trailer park.

Your grip on Eddie’s shoulder tightened; “It’s getting late,” you hummed, turning your gaze back to Eddie, “I should go.”

“Y/n-”

“No, it’s fine Eddie, don’t worry about it,” you gave him a tight smile. “Thanks for the evening,” you stood from his grip, dusting the crumbs from your jeans before nodding back to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The next morning, you opened your locker, just for a bright neon pink paper to slip out of it, flying down just to land on your feet.

You huffed, gladly stepping on it. It hadn’t even happened yet, and you already had enough of this stupid dance.

You wanted to throw up, first Will, and now no one seemed to even blink twice about Barbara. Maybe if she had been some popular cheerleader, a Tammy Thompson, or a rising star like Chrissy Cunningham she would have the whole town at her feet trying to find her, caring for her. And a part of you wondered if anyone would even care if you would ever go missing yourself..

"Are they really still throwing Spring Fling when two students are missing?" You gazed at Eddie who was leaning against your neighboring locker, fumbling with his walkman.

“Is Barb officially missing now?”

“Police thinks she ran away,” you angrily stuffed some books in your locker, Eddie noticing the stress lines forming on your forehead.

“Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday, I should have gotten the hint the first time you told me you didn’t want to go.”

“S’okay,” you hummed, keeping your hands fumbling with the contents of your locker as your gaze stayed focused on its insides. “I’m not mad at you, I’m just- I don’t understand why everyone is acting so calm. Nancy was balling her eyes out on the phone to me last night, assuring me that Barb was gone missing. She went on, telling me her car was still parked not far from mine and saying that she felt a creepy presence in my backyard,” you finally managed to neatly place the books like you wanted, and closed your locker door in a loud, angered thud.

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” you chewed on your nails and Eddie didn’t know what to say, or what to even do with his own hands. “What if something bad has happened to them? And I mean bad, bad,” you rested your back against your locker. “I can’t imagine what it would do to Dustin, imagine Barb’s parents? I-, I feel desperate in this situation and I feel like I’m one of the only ones to actually care.”

“We could try and play detective, if you want? I mean, D and D does make you pretty good at piecing things together,” he offered you a short smile and your heart warmed a bit at his words.

“Maybe.”

You didn’t understand Nancy.

As much as you loved her, you couldn’t begin to piece her out. Last night, she was calling you crying about your missing friend, and now she was begging you for a distraction you weren’t willing to give out.

“Please, please come,” she whined over the phone, and you eyed Steve as he walked across from the kitchen to the living room, giving you his biggest death glare as he did.

“Nancy, you know my answer,” you groaned–wanting to slam your head onto the wall next to you. “Do you realize that two people are missing, and you’re ready to just forget all of that to go dancing with idiots?”

“Y/n, I think we both need this, we can continue searching tomorrow.”

Was this really the same Nancy you had chatted with the day before?

“You’re in a relationship now, you should understand this!”

“Understand what exactly?”

“That I want to spend time with my boyfriend. The world is falling apart and I’m stuck home with my thoughts. Wouldn’t you ask the same thing if the roles were reversed? Wouldn’t you beg Steve and I to go to a Ren Fair or I don’t know a Metallica concert if you couldn’t?”

“Spring Fling is far from being a Metallica concert, Nancy,” you chuckled at the idiocy of her comparison.

“But what if Spring Fling is my Metallica concert?”

You fell silent over the line. Were you that selfish? Not letting your friend get that date with your brother and miss out on an event everyone wanted to go to. You sighed, rethinking your life one last time before sighing out; “Okay,” head falling against the wall by the telephone. “I’ll tell Steve to come pick you up.”

“Oh my god I love you!”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too, I’ll see you there,” and with those words you hung up, dread seeping into your bones once again. “Steve! Get fucking ready, you’re taking Nancy to that stupid dance!”

“I’m what now?”

“You’re taking Nancy to Spring Fling,” his eyes widened, mouth agape.

“Oh my god, I love you,”

“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes, watching Steve scurry away to the upstairs bathroom. You sighed before crossing the kitchen, eyeing for any one of your parents.

“Hey darling,” as if she knew you had been searching for her, your mom’s soft voice echoed from the laundry room, through the corridor and right to you.

“Right here,” you hummed back, trotting to meet her there.

“Oh perfect,” she smiled, “could you bring this up? Half of this is Steve’s and then the other half is yours.”

“Are you obliging me to walk through the pits of tartarus?”

“If this means, entering your brother’s room to drop off his laundry, yes I am asking you.”

“Fine,” you hummed, grabbing the basket of folded laundry from your mother’s arms. “Also, Steve and I are getting ready to leave, we’re um- going to the spring fling thing.”

“Oh,” her eyes widened. “You’re going?”

“Yeah. Nancy convinced me.”

“Alright,” she let the shock seep through her. “I’ll let your father know.”

“Thanks,” you smiled before scurrying away, jumping up the steps–the quicker you got this done, the quicker you could get ready, and the quicker you were out of the house, the quicker you would be back.

You dropped everything that was yours on top your bed–not bothering with putting it in your cupboard before waltzing towards Steve’s room. You could hear the stream of the shower, and if you were really careful, you could hear Steve faintly humming a Kate Bush song. You rolled your eyes before opening his door, ready to be met with the utter mess that you remembered his room to be–but to your surprise, it was neat and even smelt nice.

You blinked in shock, taking in the well done bed, the freshly vacuum carpet and the organized shelves. Even the desk was neat, two pots of pencils stood proudly in the corner, while only a stray eraser felt out of place–sitting next to an opened agenda. His desk lamp illuminating his scruffy writing, creating a halo over the white lined page.

Once the surprise was seeping in, you blinked; remembering your original mission. You dropped the basket on his bed, sighing before turning back around.

And that’s when you caught the writing across the white paper of Steve’s used notebook.

MONEY SPENT

March 30 - family video $6

April 2 - Maldev’s $2, lunch $5

April 5 - lunch $2

April 11 - Lunch $7, family video $3.

April 12 - Eddie $50

April 14 - Scoops Ahoy $6

April 15 - Eddie $100

The list went on–Eddie becoming a recurrence since ‘April 12’, the money only adding as the days went by. Your heart thumped in your chest–why in the world was Eddie’s name on Steve’s wannabe accountant list, and secondly, where in the world did Steve find this kind of money?

You wondered for a brief instant if Eddie had been dealing to your brother, but then you had only seen Steve high once, and it had been two days ago, at that wretched gathering.

Barb’s warning echoed in your head, and for a mere second you allowed yourself to feel the worst. Was this why Eddie had been bugging you to come to the dance with him?

You refused to make it make sense, but then April 12 had been the day Eddie had first tried to ask you out.

Your breath suddenly caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart thumping in your ears. No. This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t be sure of anything yet.

Nonetheless, you didn’t have time to think about it. You were on the clock with a promise made to your best friend, and strolling out of Steve’s room, you noticed a frown on your face you hadn’t even realized was there.

You let out a shaky sigh as you entered your room, being met with your reflection in the mirror.

You had made Nancy a promise,

You’d have to confront either of the two after the dance.

“Eddie, there’s a girl outfront for you.”

“Huh?” He lifted the book from his eyes, dropping it on the coffee table before lazily sitting up, limbs cracking as he did. He looked at Wayne in question, not bothering to fix his pyjama shirt as he walked to the kitchen area and looked through the window.

His eyes weren’t failing him–indeed there you were, the window of your car rolled down and Eddie could see you all dolled up in a pretty dress he’d never bet he would ever see you wear. You looked straight at him through the window and honked, a signal for him to come over.

“What the fuck,” he muttered under his breath as his socked feet walked him to the front door. “Hey, what are you doing here?” Even though shock was seeping through him, he smiled at your sight.

“Get in loser, we’re going to the spring fling,” his mouth was wide, agape like a fish as he registered what was happening. He blinked, and stood there a second too long because you honked your car horn again. “C��mon! We don’t have all night!”

You watched as Eddie blinked again before shaking his head and scurrying back inside. You heard faint mumbling from the trailer and his running around. You even thought you heard a loud noise that was most probably Eddie falling as he tried to get the suit of his pants up.

His hair was wild once he opened the door of the trailer again, but he was brushing it back with his fingers as he walked down the metallic steps and walked to you.

“Where did you get a tux last minute?” You grinned as he opened the passenger door, his slime had made all anxiety wash away from your body and you felt yourself melt a little further into your car seat, butterflies brushing the side of your stomach at the sight of him in a suit.

“Oh, you know, just something I had, laying around,” he shrugged, pretending to be brushing something off of his shoulder “Where’d you get the dress?”

“Oh you know just something I had, laying around,” that made him laugh, eyes intently scanning your figure as you started driving away.

“What made you change your mind?”

“Nancy wouldn’t stop bugging me about it, thought I’d take a break from being a heinous bitch, for a change,” you smiled, and your mind brought you back to the writing in Steve’s notebook an unsettling feeling tugging at your heartstrings as your gaze went back to the boy next to you.

“Respectable,” he grinned, already opening your glove box for a cassette–fishing out a Black Sabbath mixtape he had made for you.

And for a golden second, as you watched him grin like an idiot over the cassette he had so carefully designed–your worries washed away.

Eddie had been so caring. He had come into your life, bulldozing everything you had trapped yourself in. He brought a new breath to your lungs and you felt yourself again, you felt whole again.

And maybe, just maybe you could let yourself believe that Eddie’s name on Steve’s notebook was something entirely different.

Spring fling was everything you had expected it to be.

Bright colored balloons floating across the air, handwritten banners hanging from every corner, large tables with various beverages and food laying across it. Music was bursting out of large speakers lodged at every corner of the room–and not to mention almost the entirety of Hawkins High.

Toto’s Hold The Line was ringing in your ears, and you felt your hand grip Eddie’s a little tighter as you walked past a group of cheerleaders, all giggling at something Cameron Ness had said. The star jock was wearing his best suit, a blue ruffled jacket that made all the girls cling to him like moths to a flame. Each of them were in close competition with your brother at the amount of hairspray they had, hairstyles more and more elaborate the more you stared.

You did not feel in your place at all.

It all felt intoxicating.

You spotted your brother, long gone into a conversation with some brunette jock named Jeremy. You looked at Nancy–she seemed so happy for once; a bright smile plastered on her face as she leaned against Steve’s navy vest.

And maybe, just maybe the thought of your best friend getting to have a good time made it less hard to stand the suffocating gym.

“Wanna dance?” Eddie turned to you, a smile on the corner of lips, “while the music is still somewhat tolerable.” Eddie lifted his hand, silently asking for yours.

“Yes,” you slotted your hand in his–butterflies brushing the sides of your stomach as you marched towards the dance floor.

Maybe the evening wouldn’t be so bad.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you hold my drink, I need to go to the bathroom,” you smiled as Eddie was already offering his hand.

“Of course.”

Eddie’s gaze traveled around the room, and an unsettling feeling crossed his stomach when his gaze met your brother’s. He was at a different spot this time, chatting with Nancy over a cup of punch.

This was it.

This had to be his chance.

He didn’t think twice before crossing the room, fingers brushing through his hair before speaking; “Hey, Harrington.”

“My man!” Steve cheered, and wrapped an arm around him. Eddie awkwardly nodded towards Nancy who had handed him a tight smile upon his arrival.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure,” Steve nodded and asked Nancy if she could hold his drink–to which she accepted and nodded them away.

Eddie noticed Steve was maybe more than a little tipsy as he walked beside Eddie, mumbling jokes and saying hi to everyone who crossed their way. He thought this would be a never ending nightmare, and it would probably be hours before he reached a quiet spot. And after torechous minutes of Steve greeting everyone who met his eyes as he was dragged through the mass of students, they finally reached the quiet corner next to the bleachers.

“So-”

"The deal is off."

“What?” Steve suddenly felt himself sober up. “Why?”

“Because I can’t continue like this.”

“But why? I thought you needed the money-”

“This isn’t about the money, Steve,” the name felt bitter in his mouth–maybe because he blamed him for his suffering, or maybe Eddie blamed himself–but right this minute the lines blurred in his mind and he felt his stomach bubble with a new kind of anger. “This is about your sister, it’s killing me to be doing this to her.”

“Why would you care?” Steve snorted, and Eddie almost took a step back at the cruelty he was witnessing first hand.

Did Steve really care so little about you?

“Because I’m falling in love with her,” the words tumbled out of Eddie’s mouth faster than he could think, and he had to bite his lip once he realized his confession.

Steve’s mouth fell open wide, the room starting to spin—and this time it wasn’t the snuck in vodka that made him feel this way; but the way his plan was biting him back.

“No, no, no. You can't be in love with her,” he felt the words leave faster than intended, his own interests getting the best of him.

“Who are you to tell me what to feel or not feel, Harrington.”

Steve blinked–stunned, “no, you’re right. But you can’t be falling for her! I never said you could actually date her, you’re going to be a bad influence!”

“Excuse me? Says the guy who hand picked me.”

“Because you were the only one good for the job!”

“Exactly, and that’s why I’m putting an end to the whole thing.”

“She’s smarter than you give her credit for, you know? She’s going to figure it out soon enough, and it’s going to go all to shits. She might hate us both in all cases, but I’d rather her learn about this fiasco the right way.”

“No-no, you can’t tell her anything! What about me? What about Nancy?”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Look, I’ll pay you double, we continue the deal like it was, you continue to date her, and we can just forget this whole conversation happened, okay?”

“Did you not hear a word I just said?”

You sighed, fixing a strand of your hair as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your fingers gripped the hair material of the sink, smacking your lips together to spread the gloss you had just reapplied.

You pushed the heavy bathroom door, sighing once it closed behind you–the school hallway staring back at you. You could faintly hear music playing from behind the closed doors, but murmurs from a nearby corridor caught your attention.

“Did you hear?” Mr. Arnold fiddled with his hat, twisting the material between his fingers.

“Hear what?” You recognised Mrs. Gilbert–the drama teacher, she was fixing the sleeve of her sparkling dress before a content smile appeared on her lips.

“They found him,” now they had your full attention. Head spiking up like a cat, and breath catching in your throat.

“The Byers boy?” She whispered, the smile getting whipped off her features.

“Yes,” Mr. Arnold had a grim look in his eyes as he stared down at his shoes. “They found his body at Sattler Quarry about an hour ago… Poor kid drowned himself.”

Your shoulders tensed and you felt your ears ring

No.

No, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.

Will, the shy boy you babysitted a few times.

Will, the quiet one with a mind of gold and an ever growing imagination. The one who came up with creatures, monsters and wizards D and D magazines and Eddie’s campaigns could only be envious about.

Your body hit the back of the lockers, and you could only hope that Mrs. Gilbert and Mr. Arnold didn’t hear the thud that accompanied the movement. Head spinning and heart unstoppably racing as you tried to tame the buzz in your head. You couldn’t hear anything, and uncontrollable dumbness hitting you as your fist clenched the material of your dress.

Why?

Why had a boy full of life like Will had to meet his end in such a way?

What about Dustin? Did he already know?

Your heart only shattered into more pieces as you thought of him.

You had to tell Eddie.

You walked back into the gym, the air feeling stuffy again and the music barely hitting your numbbed ears. Seeing everyone so full of life made you sick to your stomach. All these people who didn’t even care that he had gone missing, and now they would wake up tomorrow morning with the news of his death, and move on with the rest of their lives as if nothing happened.

It didn’t take you long to find Eddie in the crowd. He was a few meters away from the door, in a corner talking to—your brother?

He had a large frown on his features, and your brother was waving his hands around frantically like he did when he got frustrated. You watched as Eddie groaned, a hand flying up to his hair as he tried to reason whatever argument your brother had thrown.

You moved faster than your mind registered, feet gliding over the polished ground of the gymnasium. Something in you wanted to save Eddie from presumingly a horrid conversation with the gremlin that you were cruelly related to.

You were about to go through the last small group of people, you could clearly see them from your spot in between the dancing bodies—and Steve’s voice became clearer over the fading music.

“No-no you can’t tell her anything! What about me? What about Nancy?”

What the fuck was that suppose to mean?

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Look, I’ll pay you double, we continue the deal like it was, you continue to date her, and we can just forget this whole conversation happened, okay?”

You stopped in your tracks.

Steve’s writing suddenly became clear,

your worst assumptions were true.

Eddie was paid to date you,

And had been since the start.

#quartermaster munson 🫧#10 things i hate about you #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson fan ficion #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things imagine #harrington! reader #Steve Harrington

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eyesxxyou · 7 hours

Text

𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆 🏴‍☠️🐚

| iv. four | oranges

🐚・・・pirate!Hobie x mute!siren!reader.

𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱: orange eating, gwen being nosy (i love her), hobie and his emotional distance

↳ ❝ you come back orange ❞

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

After quick deliberation, Hobie figured that the best place to hide you would be his cabin. No one went inside without his permission which meant no one would have to know of your existence while you stayed. He’d just let you out at night while everyone slept. It was humane…kind of. More humane than letting you fend for yourself out at the ocean with such a severe injury. Sure– it wasn't the best plan but he had to come up with it on the fly.

“I nee’ja t’stay here, okay?” Hobie said, tucking you away into his cabin just as he heard shuffling within the hull. He watched as you wandered about his small cabin, picking up trinkets and treasures he had lying around. Coins, jewels, strings of pearls that made your eyes glow as you added them to your collection on your body. You admired them, fingers tracing methodically over their grooves and dips. You were distracted, far from listening to anything he had to say to you. You picked up all his pretty things and purred with satisfaction at them.

Hobie snapped his ringed fingers at you. “Oi! Listen t’me.” You turned to him with a gold coin half way in your mouth, still purring. You spat out the coin onto the floor and opened your mouth, only to let out a squeak. You motioned wildly. You were trying to communicate but you didn’t know how.

“Look- ion understand ya.” He could hear muffled speaking. He had to leave soon. “You stay.” He pointed to you and then made a signal with his hand. “This means stay now, yea? Ya stay.” It was simple enough. A sign language of sorts.

You were quick to catch on. Your brows furrowed. You pointed to yourself and shook your head. ‘Me not stay.’ You signed rather stubbornly. You pointed to him then to the door, then to you and to the door. Hobie thought it meant that you wanted to leave too. He shook his head and carefully touched your shoulders. “Ya have t’stay here. I’ll come back.” He made another sign with his hands. “Come back.” He applied meaning to it.

You calmed down ever so slightly. Your hazy eyes softened and your lips parted to hum. ‘Come back?’ You signed, tilting your head to imply you were asking a question. It was soft, vulnerable. You were scared. You didn’t want to be alone.

Hobie nodded and signed it again. “Come back. I’ll come back, pearl. Just stay here.” He backed away from you slowly and you did not try to follow him out. You stood there, staring, waiting, like a dutiful dog in a way. He almost felt bad leaving you there but it was for the best.

Leaving his cabin, Hobie made his way to the galley where the rest of his crew began their day with rather watery soup for breakfast. It was a small space for so many people to be packed into, some sitting on barrels, most on the floor. Everyone nodded to Hobie as he passed, grabbing a bowl of soup and an orange for you to eat. Did you even eat fruit? He’d find out soon enough.

When Hobie returned to his cabin, you had made yourself rather comfortable on his bed, your hands and face pressed against the window as you stared out at the water splashing with fish. You turned to look at the door and smiled at him with your fanged teeth. ‘You come back. You come back.’ You signed quickly, excited to see him. You clamored off of the bed and padded over to him.

Hobie closed the door behind him. “I brough’ ya food.” He placed the bowl of soup down on the shelf beside him and extended his arm to offer you the orange. You looked fascinated at it and carefully took it from his hand to examine it. “I’s an orange.” He came up with a sign for it. “Ya eat it.” He came up with a sign for eat too.

You stared at it for a long moment and then opened your mouth and took a bite out of it skin and all. You didn't seem to mind it, not that you’d know any better. You were clueless. Soft and sweet and innocent and so so clueless. How wonderful it must be to be so unaware of everything.

“No, no, no!” Hobie reached out and took it from you. “Ya gotta peel it first.” He demonstrated, tucking his thumb under the skin and peeling it off to reveal the inside. When he handed it back to you, you did the same, tucking your thumb beneath the skin and peeling a piece off. You dropped it to the floor and peeled off a second piece. Piece after piece until the orange was bare. You looked at him, ‘Eat?’

“Yeah, ya can eat i’ now.”

You wasted no time sinking your teeth into the flesh of the orange and taking out a small chunk of it. You looked satisfied, closing your eyes and smiling with glee as you chewed. A bit of juice dripped down your chin and Hobie’s hand twitched as if to reach out and wipe it up. Instead, he bent down and picked up the orange peels.

He would need to be careful around you. You were making him let his guard down. It was in your nature.

“Good?” He signed again, making up signals on the spot he’d have to remember later. You nodded vigorously and took another bite out of it, finishing it off. ‘Good.’ You signed back. ‘Good. Good. Good.’ You licked your lips and smiled with juice still on your chin. You licked your fingers and swiped at your chin to get the juice there.

You were rather endearing in a way. Letting out noises that Hobie thinks are giggles while the fins on your ears wiggle subtly. You purred and giggled and squealed with glee. The sun hits you just right as it always does through the window and you’re so golden Hobie might have mistook you for treasure. If only he knew that you thought the same of him. You liked him. He looked pretty too. Layered in jewelry, rings, necklaces, and cuffs of the smaller locs in his hair. His face slender and defined. How gorgeous for a human.

‘You come back orange.’ You sign to him, your eyes softly pleading at him. Hobie could not look at you, your soft face, your pearl eyes. So he looked at your hands, signing at him again and again. ‘You come back orange.’

It took him a moment to understand what you were trying to say. “Ya want more oranges?” Your face brightened and you nodded, reaching out for him. Hobie stepped away out of your reach. He did not want you touching him. He knew it was best to maintain distance while you were here.

“I’ll get'cha more oranges.” Hobie assured you from a distance, holding his hand out to keep you away. You understood he didn’t want you to touch him and you took a step back.

‘Come back?’

“I’ll come back.”

Hobie left quickly to get another orange for you. Everyone noticed his swift return just to drab a single orange but no one said a word about it. Nothing about it seemed too out of the ordinary. Maybe he was just trying to prevent scurvy. Until he came back for four more oranges minutes later.

Gwen noticed it first. Miles and Pav were less observant, too busy throwing around a small rock between the two of them. She noticed him looking about rather suspiciously as if he were afraid of being caught. He tried to play it cool but there was nothing cool about stealing a bunch of oranges before tucking back away into his cabin which he usually hated being in. Hobie couldn’t stand being alone in his cabin alone where his mind swarmed with thoughts too dark with comfort.

“I can’ get’cha anymore. This is i’.” You were sitting on the floor now, looking up at him. He dropped the oranges in front of you and you drabbed one to begin peeling. You were fiendish and eager, tossing peels on the ground around you. You were giggling and signing, ‘Good, good, good.’ Your toes were wiggling, so were your ear fins. You were happy. Such a sweet joy.

You looked up at Hobie as you chewed and grabbed the last orange to peel. You had managed to get it down to a record time, a science. Using your thumbs, you sank them into the soft pit of the orange and spilt it in half. It split unevenly. You offered the bigger half to him. It was an act of friendship, a tender kindness he hadn’t known your kind were capable of.

Hobie took it from you carefully, your fingers brushing. A spark. You both pulled your hands away swiftly.

“Thanks.” Hobie looked away in a sheepish glance. He ate the sticky sweet fruit and felt his cheeks sting. He wasn’t sure it was from the fruit or from you.

‘You come back orange.’ You blinked at him and smiled sweetly with your juice-glossed lips and pearly eyes. Hobie shook his head. “I told ya, no more. Ma crew needs ‘em. Scurvy ‘n allat.” He waved his hand dismissively at you. Your soft face fell into sorrow and your dulcet giggles faded into rather loud whines. You’d get yourself caught at this rate.

Hobie rushed to you and pressed his large fingers over your mouth. His fingers were cool against your sticky lips. Your flesh was soft and warmer than he had remembered. “Shhh, are ya bloody crazy? I’ll get’cha one more bloody orange if ya keep quiet, okay?” You understood, nodding slowly, smiling against the calloused palm of his rough hand.

Hobie backed out of the door, watching you all the way up until he closed it. He turned on his heels only to run right into Gwen. Her petite figure stood before him with her arms crossed and a raised brow questioning him. “Who do you have in there?”

He should have accounted for her. Gwen was smart and even more nosy. She would have found out sooner or later, he just never imagined it would be sooner. Hobie stood between her and the door. “No one. Why are ya so nosy?” He poked her slender, button nose. She swatted his hand away. “Then what was the sound I heard? Who were you talking to? Why were you taking so many oranges?”

Damn you, Gwen and your observant nature. A different Hobie would have been proud. This Hobie is regretting every decision he’s made today. There was little point in trying to hide it and Hobie was no liar. It would be better if she knew. Maybe she could help him with you. The more help, the faster you’d be back to where you belong and out of his hair.

“If I show ya, ya have t’ promise no’ t’ tell the res’ of the crew.”

Gwen straightened up, her face firming with seriousness. “Show me.”

Hobie let out a pitiful sigh and opened the door to his cabin. You were still on the floor, eating your half of the orange you had split. You were looking at Hobie, only at Hobie, as if Gwen wasn’t even there. You grinned you toothy, fanged grin and carefully signed, ‘You come back.” Your eyes searched his hands and found that they were empty. Your full, sweet lips pouted.

'Orange?’

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #spiderman #spider punk #pirate!au #pirate! hobie #siren!au #siren reader #pirate!hobie x siren!reader #pearl of the sea

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mememan93 · 2 months

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killing and biting and killing and biting

#I swear to god i want to die right now. I write for the opinion section of my school newspaper #and this guy comes in and goes 'i want to write a pro life article and an article on the republican abortion strategy'#and i jump in like “great and i'll write the pro choice one” WHY DID I SAY THAT #like yes im pro choice and yes im passionate about it. but now we're doing a pro con. i can't do that #i can't do that. i can't handle it because last time we did one of those both sides received death threats #and like everyone else there is pro choice except for that fucker but i'm the only ONLY afab person in the room.#which is bad enough as it is but they were just staring at me and i. i feel so humiliated #i want to back out but i can't just let the kid publish his piece without a rebuttal #abortion is a topic i'm passionate about. but also one i'm emotional about. guys a secret. my birth was scuffed. My mom was in so much pain #and was left with injuries that made her cancer treatment more difficult #and i just get so upset that my life and the life of every pregnant person means less to people than a clump of cells #'but it's a baby' it's a parasite. it's a clump of cells. I don't care if it has a heartbeat. I don't care. I have friends-#i have family. i have people that love me and i have things that I do that people rely on. I matter #'but what if the baby cures cancer' WHAT IF I DO. WHAT IF I DO.#I so want to back out i'm crying writing this but. I can't do it. i can't just let that fucker get his way.#he's also transphobic and homophobic btw. unsurprising but still.

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illidan · 2 months

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person who provided the spare parts but not the energy cell to the charging station i gotta ask. why

#mine #like. dont get me wrong. idc. i have 500 of the bad boys. id much rather throw one of those at it than the parts bc i hate farming them lol #(i only have 7 crates on me rn and they all go towards making the beastbot powerpacks until i get my last goddamn MINI. UGH.)#but like. just why. theres the daily up to give you one if you dont have any. so. did you change your mind orrrrr #did you realize you didnt have enough empty cells to care? im just fascinated.#whatever it gave me another easy tick off my construction contribution achieve. 55 more to go...#which if u were wondering: yes i have been working on that exclusively with energy cells! ill worry about my 600+ more tinkering items late #stares forlornly at my 85 remaining ultrasafe transporters. why did i make so fucking MANY. i had over 100 at some point. thats-#over 100 crates. 200 cells but idgaf about that. but my craaaaates. all those spare parts??#at least i dont have to make the time displacers anymore. eugh. hey why did this turn into me yelling at mechagon again. oops #anyway third day in a row of charging station being up. we love to see it.

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silverislander · 6 months

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got through another church service :) (people wouldn't stop touching me without asking) (got guilt tripped abt not coming around anymore twice) (extremely aware i was being watched and judged the whole time) (everyone only seems to remember my brothers accomplishments) (they still fucking do gendered call and responses in 2023)

#but fuck it! i got through it #the guilt tripping doesnt work anymore anyway so i just kinda. roll w it #theyll be like 'wow its been such a Long Time... we miss you...' and then hit me with the boomer stare. jokes on you bc i just smile + nod #now were both staring at each other in silence and you made it awkward. who feels guilty now pamela #levi.txt #seriously tho im so fucking tense my shoulders hurt. i hate how everyone feels the right to fucking touch me at church so much #i KNOW you want to say hi and thats fine just PLEASE dont come up behind me and clap your hands on my shoulders #i will gladly shake your hand or whatever. you dont need to physically grab me we can be normal abt this i promise #unfortunately i have a really bad freeze response so i usually cant manage 'please dont do that' or 'stop' if startled #and the womens/mens call and responses? how are we still. doing that #idk i didnt expect them to be trans affirming all of a sudden or whatever ik theyre transphobic im just. ugh. bad surprise #and watching people try to 'subtly' look and see which lines im reading or why i sound Like That. it makes me feel like a zoo animal #i forget how much church is an anxiety trigger for me. fuck #glad its over. i only have to go on christmas eve and easter while im living at home and thats fair enough for me

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visdiefje · 10 months

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Always so sad when a product that changes other people's daily lives doesn't do the same for you... I know everyone's different but can I be the same here please

#this is about loop earplugs 😔💔#like they're not BAD but. aside from the shape they're not really noticeably better than foam earplugs for me #and in my right ear I can easily put it in place and it'll stay there #but it feels like my left ear is doomed to have Loose Earplug Syndrome. tried a few different caps #but it doesn't ever really feel like it is firmly placed in there #and also. I can still hear my upstairs neighbours moving around noises loud enough to interrupt me falling asleep #with the quiet ones that are meant for sleeping #I just take them out at some point during the night #and the engage ones do mute noise around me somewhat but I can't actually speak with them. my voice buzzes SO loudly inside my own ears #I lose track of what I'm saying immediately #sad though because they were. Not Cheap and I was hoping it'd be a good investment with my noisy neighbour #and I hear a lot of good about them which I believe... but for now they're just kinda. eh #stares out the window wistfully

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birdmenmanga · 2 years

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besties if you respond to a post of mine with ONLY a photo in the reblogs you MUST put some text or at least indicate in the tags that you added something or else I will never know </3

#just thinking thoughts...#like when blazinfox put a screencap of the fairy wren. I was staring at the tags confused as hell until I clicked it #usually peeping what the notifications have for me is enough.. I won't know...#like on my tattoo manga too. I didn't realize there were additions of people putting the 'wait hold on a minute' crying cat heart emoji pic #which. I wanna know I wanna know so bad...#and like if my tags get peer reviewed I want to know too LOL

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screampied · 6 months

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❛ TOO SWEET! ❜

geto, toji, gojo, nanami, choso. jjk men who can’t get enough of your sweet taste ‘& becomes needy for your touch.

total wc. 3.0k

warnings. fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, whiney men, unprotected sex, mating press, cowgirl, doggystyle, nipple play, eating out through your panties, dry humping, praise

an. request thank yew aiii, using this req as an excuse to make the jjk men whiney.

CHOSO ☆ KAMO

“baby w-wait,” he swallows, and choso’s panting heavily. heaving practically…

he just couldn’t keep his hands off you — ever since he told you in that soft, shaky red-handed voice that he ‘accidentally’ swallowed and eaten your freshly new bought sugary-coated sweets. “i feel so…” he murmurs, spinning you around before planting a kiss on your neck, then another, then another. “i need you. y-you smell sweeter than usual.”

“oh..is it that bad?” you stare up at him, a single eyebrow of yours raises, and he whimpers. you’re teasing him. the pout that curls down his lip is just adorable.

choso doesn’t give you a answer. he’s so starved of your wanted touch, all he does is drag a few inelegant awkward steps towards you, bringing you into a deep kiss.

choso cups your face with his big hands, his tongue swipes against yours and he backs you up against the glass cold refrigerator door.

he lets off a delicious moan inside your mouth and you gasp, feeling him spread your legs apart with his knee and your own whimper slips out as he’s kissing you. his body heat against yours was so warm, and every few seconds he broke away to repeat your name underneath his breath his shaky needy whispers. oh… maybe..

it really was that bad…

“are you sure?” you faltered with a shy smile, massaging the nape of your neck with your fingers. choso sat on the bed, his face remained flustered and plastered which nothing but whole heartedly lust and thirst. “this’ll help you um..stop feeling all….you know.”

“baby, yes—please,” he whines, his eyes plead. choso’s entire body felt so hot-tempered, warm.

it was cute seeing him grow frustrated, yet he was still as whiney as always, pink lips of his pursing and pouting as you teasingly and slowly made your way to sit on his face. “t-thank you, thank y—mph..”

your panties were still on but choso could care less, as you plopped down gently on his face — he couldn’t take it.

one single stripe lick between the crevices of your underwear was enough to make you moan out his name, hovering over him while giving him that same timid gaze. “c’mon. i need this, need you,” he’d speak, his own breath was racing against itself, jittery.

he gives your thighs a quick pry with his right hand, spreading your legs and you moan as he’s literally eating you out through your laced panties.

“ride my nose, baby. pleasepleaseplease. wanna savor my pretty girl’s—” and he pauses to breathe, almost forgetting to before moaning out. “..pussy.”

“c-choso..” you panted, starting to ride against his nose. he looked so pretty and submissive underneath you, a smile never leaving his lips as you were continuously starting to cover the lower half of his chin with your sweet slick. “fuck, fuck.”

his tongue was sloppy, never ending with the way it slurps your folds up. teasing your puffy clit with numerous sucks, his head’s swiftly moving and jerking as your hips moved and moved against him. choso reaches down to rub against the brick hard bulge building up in his shorts and he whines.

“c-can i touch myself?” he whimpers, and your heart swoons at him even asking. “….god, i’m so hot for you, baby. you make me so dirty. your taste… ‘s doin' this to me. just.. wanna please you, all night long baby.”

SUGURU ☆ GETO

“m' serious, princess,” geto mutters, gripping onto your shoulders. he looked like he’d just came back from his hourly workout. he’s staring you dead in the eyes, some strands of long black hair sticking to his forehead, and it appears as if he’s nearly out of breath. “i…ate your uh candy. but it’s not like you labeled it or anyt-”

geto freezes for a moment. he grows dramatically stiff, before staring down at his pants then at you. “shit.”

“…sugu, are you hard?” you giggled.

and oh, he grows so embarrassed. geto’s facial expression turns into a cute scowl, his ears grows hot the more he stares at you—and indeed he is.

geto’s boner was sort of hard to ignore. him wearing grey sweats didn’t make things easier either.

“can..can you help me or not? y’don’t know how painful this…is,” he huffs out and seconds later after you comply with a sweet little ‘okay’ he’s got you sprawled out all pretty on the bed. “more hornier than u-usual..” he swallows, leaning in to plant kisses straight down your chest to your stomach before he slides your panties off.

you stared at geto, and he licks his lips, panting. his chest heaved back and forth and he’s sweating a bit, he’s so turned on he feels so hot once he’s easing his way inside your pussy with his dick.

“m-mhm,” he bites his lip, keeping one hand resting on your tummy. you never heard him this whiney before and it was so cute. he doesn’t wanna rush but he can’t help it but start to create a pace with his hips. you moaned once he leaned into you, whining in his low voice, “kiss me, please. kiss me, princess.”

he was so thick. you felt him everywhere, his thrusts were so sloppy against you. more sloppier than usual but he was so driven.

his mind raced and his heart heated ten times faster than it regularly does.

“come here, baby.” you playfully smiled, moving his long dancing hair strands from his face and he deeply kissed you with tongue. hearing you say ‘baby’ got him more turned on.

the candy, your taste, and just your smooth sweet voice alone was gonna be the death of him.

“okay, okay…” he pants, you wrap your arms around him as his body weight lightly lingers against your chest. he’s so sensitive, warm as he leans in to kiss you for a second time.

it’s more quick and steamy. your tongue collides against his and you taste the sweet tang of the intoxicated candy residing on his tongue. you moaned at his hips smacking against yours at such rhythm. geto lets off a soft whiney purr at the way you comb a hand through his hair.

his lips were connected to yours for what seemed like forever. his warmth radiates against your skin as his body rocks against you.

“so sweet,” he murmurs, breaking away for a brief moment, his cock taps against your most sensitive bits and you whine. geto’s gentle but can’t help but be a bit crazy with thrusts, his strokes that made you dizzy. “i-i need more,” he huffs out, kissing the side of your mouth, then your neck, then your chest.

geto’s still huffing and puffing as he’s inside of you—each stinging slap he creates with his hips, you run into him and he moans, raising your right leg up, the leg that was wrapped around his waist to lick a long stripe up it while keeping direct eye contact. “can’t get enough.. ‘n it’s all your damn fault, princess.”

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“sweetheart..”

is all your boyfriend says. you’re bent over the counter, and he pauses, you slip off a moan as nanami’s pressed up against you. his voice sounds lower than usual, raspy and somewhat whiney..? he intakes a breath before lifting the fabric of your sundress up. “i don’t want you to..see me like this.”

“kento, baby,” you shyly smile, not even facing him. “i told you yesterday not to eat the candy. the side effects are um…strong.”

with one hand, nanami tugs on his tie back and forth, he’s hot. “i’m aware of that now,” he grunts and you let off a gasp, feeling his hard boner rub against your ass. he grabs onto your waist and starts to make you grind your ass against him and he swears underneath his breath.

“fuck me,” he mutters in frustration. “forgive me, s-sweetheart but i just…i really wanna take you right here over this counter. restrain your cute hands with my tie and..”

“what’s stopping you then?” you teased.

and that was all it took nanami couldn’t hold back anymore, the lust overtook him and it was too strong. your cloying fragrance alone had him so tipsy. you’re perfectly arched over the sleek shiny, granite kitchen counter. nanami’s ruthless with his hits against your core. “k-kento..”

you’d moan out, your own hands pinned against your back with the neatly tie restraining your wrists, not too tight but just enough. you’re just bent over with the most perfect arch.

he’s so warm as he sloppily thrusts against you, again and again. his tip brushes against between your folds and you whimper out from how good he’s hitting you from behind. he’s got an exquisite tempo of roughness but also very gentle.

nanami grunts with the way your ass kisses against him each time. he purposely grows quiet to hear the hard hits, yanking on your pretty sundress. “jus’ like that, baby,” he’d moan out, barely able to contain himself. “throw yourself back…against me, jus’ like that…goddamn, girl.”

you were hunched over, wrists still restrained with his striped tie, a good grip of you as you’re being pounded ruthlessly against the counter. he’s never felt this horny and aroused before, hot and cold describes his heat and he groans at the way you move against him.

his dick reached you in each crevice, each spot with such ease you’re whining. you covered his base with your slick, he gets so hard from the recoil the more he stares down. nanami eyes the way the pretty sundress you wore—the one he bought you for valentine’s day, was all wrinkled and lazily pulled up to your waist. “s-so good, kento. more..”

“good, want you to feel good,” he rasps, caressing your bare ass once more. once his fat tip reaches your g-spot with a single hit you choke out his name and it sounds so pretty. “arch that pretty back just a more for me, pretty.”

you do and he gives you a soft encouraging spank, just to hear you whimper out kentooo. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy—he’s so obsessed with the way your ass jerks back against him.

one swift smack and you moan, he slides a tongue across his lip, grunting at the way the recoil just bounces against him. he’s so dizzy, holding on to your hips, a firm grip and making you move back and forth before he starts panting.

“a little more, sweet girl,” and you do, moaning once his hefty base smacks against your ass. he starts to get a bit whiney, despite his low pitched voice, he’s completely losing composure. “all the way down, bend for me….y-yeah,” he stutters, and you get shivers, feeling nanami teasingly run two fingers down your spine.

“fuck, you’re gonna milk me, honey. make a…damn mess out of me.” and you do—because not even moments later, nanami ends up spraying thin ropes of of his cum all over your pussy, painting it like a canvas. “got me all messy just for you, p-princess.”

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

toji’s hungry ass genuinely doesn’t care.

the moment he spots a pocket-sized, untouched velvet box of tasty sweets with cute neat handwritten of a sharply that wrote ‘DO NOT EAT ME!!” he pays no mind.

eating it, savoring the rich taste of caramel and cinnamon. he’d probably eat in front of you just to spite you.

yet, the last thing you’d expect would be to return home to a needy whiny toji.

“hey…girl,” you hear from behind you. he sounds worn out, as if he’d run a marathon.

he greets you with an awkward hug, which is more so just him feeling on your ass, his boner poking against your leg and he intakes your sweet scent before grunting into your neck.

“i…i ate the fucking candy. and all of a sudden you smell sweeter than..than usual and, shit.” he sighs, feeling your soft lips kiss the side of his mouth, his scar. “look. i just..i need you, bad,” and he sounds embarrassed, not even presenting you eye contact.

his eyes hide underneath his long uncut strands before he continues, picking you up while gripping down on your thighs. “but..maybe this’ll fuckin’ help..”

and by that…he means putting you in a simple mating press, toji’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s doing more moaning than you which is surprising.

his weight that lodges over your pussy just smacks against you each and everytime. he’s treating you like a rag doll basically. you’re just dumbly being stuffed full of inches, holding onto his beefy arms while he’s thrusting in and out, smack after smack it makes your ears ring.

“mhm yeah baby—girl,” he’d choke out, and you’re squeezing down on him so tight it makes his jaw clench. “so damn…hot, fuck i need more…gotta overflow this pussy s’good it’s drippin’ out.” and you whimper at him clamping down on you.

his thrusts became so nasty and sloppy, barely any rhythm.

toji looks so pretty when he’s needy. deranged, but pretty. he’s sweating a bit, beads race down the sides of his forehead, toned muscles were tense, including his back muscles. yet he blinks twice again.

slowing his strokes just a bit before groaning. “f-fuck, nasty bitch y’er tryna milk m-me?” and he whines—a gasp wretching from his mouth before that’s when toji realizes.

he came early.

toji stares at you, panting heavily, bottom lip quivering as he’s still got you in a mean mating press. your legs were just dumbly in the air, twitching and you moaned at feeling his cum trickle down your slit, oozing out of you.

“toji baby, did you just whine?” you teased, heaving yourself. and toji showcases a glare, bringing a swift spank towards your pussy and you moan.

“say…say that shit again…” he murmurs, all out of breath. he sits up, still stuffed deep inside you, his thick sheeny triceps flexed as he had them pressed against the sides of you.

“say what?”

he’s so embarrassed—a sheepish expression washes over him, tips of his ears were fuming with hotness before he grumbles, pulling out just to avert his eyes towards your messy pussy. “fuckin’….call me…baby again...please.”

“call you baby, yeah?” you teased, and he glares, a cute scowl on his face

“…you heard me, whore.”

GOJO ☆ SATORU

“hey, you’re back,” he utters, hugging you from behind. he smells so good—peppering your neck with a variety of chaste kisses, he sounds a bit shaken up and he’s far more clingy than usual.

the minute you hug turn around to hug him, softly running a finger down his undercut he lets off a moan. “y-your touch. ‘s been so long since-”

“toru i was only gone for three hours,” you mumbled, and he stared at you.

his entire face was flushed, his usual fluffy and well was all in his face. messy, ruffled, and he was sweating just a bit.

“why-” then you pause, moving your eyes towards the night stand to see the empty wrappers of candy scattered everywhere. “you- did you eat those?”

“no,” he immediately says, with a swift head shake, before letting off an ashamed, “yes.. i couldn’t help it. i thought you were just joking about the um…horniness.. but baby, i-i need you on top of me.”

he was so desperate.

you decided to 'help' him, in his way he wanted you to ride him so the lust could wear off, hopefully.

gojo’s so loud, slouched back against the squashy pillows of the sofa.

his head goes back before gripping your waist, whining at the way your hips rollicked against him. “f-fuck me more, touch me more. kiss me..baby please, ‘m so hot, pussy’s making me burn up, fuck..”

“satoru,” you mumbled, bucking your hips against him and it makes you suck your teeth. he was so big, easily stretching you out, molding out your pussy with such grace.

“stop talking.” you moaned, rocking back and forth. his cock, the girth of it stretched inside of you and you bite down on your lip.

gojo’s hair nearly covers his eyes, and he’s panting and whining each second. the way you clamp and squeeze around him makes his head spin.

“m-make me, girl.” he pouts.

you rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him and gojo moans in your mouth. the slim tip of his tongue ran against yours and he was so sloppy, breathing out his nose. he squeezed your ass with his left hand before whimpering once he started to bottom out.

he pulls away, simultaneously grabbing one of your breasts to latch his lips onto your perky nipple, a sweet attempt to hide his moans but he was still loud.

“mph,” he muffled, blue eyes staring up at you as you rode him so good his eyes nearly starts to roll back and you moan from the stimulation. his orgasm came so hard that he’s almost seeing stars. he painted your insides white—so much came out, it’s like he’s been saving his old just for you, he couldn’t stop tottering while being beneath you.

that’s when he lets out a sharp breath—tapping you lightly with his bottom lip visibly poking out.

“can..can you praise me?” he pants, you slow down your rhythm and gojo’s pupils dilates a bit, he swallows before moaning once you lean in to kiss near his neck. “your voice gets me so..tingly.”

“you did so good, satoru,” you hummed, kissing his nose, then his neck, then his chin, he’s still buried inside and he can’t stop moaning from your touch.

you run a finger down his v-line and he whimpers, his eyes following your movement and he was indeed warm. “…good boy.”

“jus’ hearing you talk ‘s gonna make me cum again, baby.” he choked out.

his soft shaky moans go against your ear the minute you start to ride him again, a slow yet sensual pace and he’s about to lose his mind. “don’t s-stop fucking me please. ‘m your good boy. all yours...fuck.”

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