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queers-gambit · 2 years

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Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses

prompt: when Eddie confesses he wants to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom, you start coughing out flower petals.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 8.8k [got a bit carried away]

note: given ages aren't confirmed in the show, let's establish that Chrissy is 17-18 years old, and Eddie's 19. reader's 18.

warnings: Hanahaki Disease ([Japanese folklore] fictional disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when suffering from one-sided love), cursing, angst, seemingly unrequited love, but things work out! ✅ no spoilers

other Eddie Munson Hanahaki Disease fics: Tears in the Rain Gone with the Sin

Like every other Friday night, you hitched a ride back to his trailer with Eddie as you had nowhere else to be. Well, probably wasn't true as you were a social butterfly with plenty of prospective friends to hang out with, but your favorite place on any given day was always with Eddie.

He was home, he was safety, he was warmth, he was what you needed after either a really bad, or even a really good day.

Eddie had this superpower where he could either turn your bad mood around or he could increase your happiness tenfold. He was next to never upset or angry or frustrated, he was content to vibe in a constant state of "chill".

Your feelings for him might've started around your sophomore year, when he decked Jason Carver in the jaw for making you uncomfortable. Even to this day - it was one of the only times you've seen him angry, and the fact that it was because Jason was flirting with you made your heart lift. It spurred the hate between the two boys, but only solidified your everlasting friendship with Eddie. Yet, you buried these feelings out of fear of rejection, and change - you didn't want things to change.

You liked things where they were.

But it was getting harder to pretend you didn't like your best friend. As if everything he did didn't make you feel silly, stupid, and giddy all at once.

As if those wide, brown, doe eyes didn't make you melt, yet simultaneously make you feel stronger than before. A single look from him could give you enough confidence for a week.

As if his antics, pet names, hand holds, late night cuddle sessions when you were feeling lonely didn't put your stomach in knots but send you heart up to the sky, like if was filled with helium.

However, you were content because you never wanted to lose him. So, you'd suffer through whatever this was if it meant he stayed close. Despite the heaviness in your chest, you continued to pretend nothing was wrong because if Eddie picked up on it, he would surely hound you until you confessed - something you couldn't handle.

So, you curled up beside him in his (stained) bed with your head leaning on his shoulder as his hands distracted themselves by fiddling with the strings on his acoustic guitar while you nursed the joint between your lips. You were content to simply exist with him; be in his presence and listen to his musical talents. Occasionally, your hand would raise the joint to his lips, allowing him to take his own hit and for the peacefulness to prolong.

Things were good - like they've been for the past few years of being "best friends". I mean, yeah, you knew Eddie before the "Jason incident", but you were just a Freshman that only knew the town's Freak from a distance. You had two classes together. Often saw him at lunch. Sometimes gave him notes if he missed class. And ever since that day that he protected you from Jason's creepy moves, you've been thicker than thieves.

Things were quiet in his room outside of the occasional crackling of the joint's end, and his lazy strumming; things were peaceful; things were good.

Until Eddie sighed and leaned back to the wall behind you both, interrupting the simple thoughts in your head.

"What's up?" You asked quietly, turning to ash the joint in the plastic tray on his bedside table. "Huffin' pretty loud over there, pretty boy, I can practically hear you overthinking."

"It's stupid," he chuckled, focusing on the strings beneath his fingertips again. "Don't even think about it."

"I doubt it's nothing," you countered. "C'mon, you tell me any and everything."

"I, uh... I don't know how to tell you this thing, though..."

Now you were curious, "You kill someone?"

"What? No! God!"

"Gotta hide a body?"

"Not this weekend."

Nodding, you asked, "You fuck my mom?"

"Not yet, but can't say it's not on my to-do list," he teased lightly.

"Then I don't know what scenario there could be that you're too scared to tell me," you chuckled, smoking wafting in the thin air between you both, lingering from the lack of circulation. "C'mon, cutie, what's up with you? You don't usually hold back."

He sighed, the strings plucking harshly as he his head flopped back now. "It's just... Have you given any thought to prom?"

"Prom?" You repeated with a small laugh. "Not entirely, I don't know. Why? Thinking of crashing it?"

But he was silent, which made you a little nervous. You sat up and turned to face him head-on, your criss-crossed legs resulting in one knee pressing to his thigh. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a subtle shake from his head assured you that he changed his mind.

"Are you going?" he asked softly instead.

"Um, nobody's asked so I don't know. I'd like to, maybe," you tried to joke. "Why? You offering?"

He chuckled lowly, "Uh, well, I would be, if..."

"If?"

He gulped, "You know Chrissy?"

Of course you knew Chrissy Cunningham, who didn't? You didn't live under a rock, for God's sake. She was the designated 'it girl' of Hawkins, the 'queen' as people dubbed her - a sweet girl who was captain of the cheer squad that had an impeccable smile. Adorable strawberry blonde hair. A petite body, sweet voice, and of course, she'd been Eddie's crush since middle school. Yeah, you knew Chrissy Cunningham.

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding slowly. "What about her?"

"Well, I uh... I was thinking of asking her to prom. You know, before we graduate and get the fuck out of this town... Thought maybe I'd try my hand, you know? See if... See if something could finally happen."

You swear your ears started ringing because no way you heard him correctly, right? No way he was telling you he was going to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom - no way. There wasn't any way. After all, the plan since about a year ago was that you would go together pending no other offers. No way the guy you've been in-love with for fucking YEARS was telling you he wanted to ask someone else.

And Eddie didn't know, but about 8 different guys had already asked you but you didn't want to go with them. You wanted Eddie to ask you - you wanted to spend a night of teenage normalcy with your best friend, and maybe get the chance to confess your feelings for him on the dance floor. Maybe you'd dress to match. Maybe he'd even get you a corsage - but Eddie wasn't the type.

So, why was he thinking about asking Chrissy? High school thriving Chrissy? Who would definitely want the stereotypical high school experience? Like - prom with a pretty dress, lots of laughter, her date giving her a corsage as her mom snapped pictures.

She would want all that, right? Would Eddie be the right date to give it to her?

You were honestly shocked he wanted to even go due to the idea that anything socially conforming was out of bounds for him. And when you made that pact, it was mostly out of a joke but you had hoped this whole time he was being serious. And he was being serious about prom, but not with you...

"Sweetheart?" Eddie asked softly, his brows now furrowed in concentration. "You okay? You look a little shaky."

Instantly, you nodded. "Yeah, totally, just, um... Just remembered I have this huge essay due Monday, yeah, uh-huh, yep. I should probably get started on it." Eddie's brows now fully crinkled as you jerked your leg away from his when his hand moved to lay on it, turning and instantly finding your belongings scattered around the floor of his bedroom. "Um, yeah, so, as for prom and Chrissy - I think it's cute. You should ask her, she'd be stupid to say no."

Eddie watched you tug your shoes on in haste, sitting up, "Hey, slow down, speed racer, I'll drive you - "

"No, it's cool," you assured swiftly, tugging your jacket on to combat the chill of the spring night. "I need the exercise."

Eddie scoffed, "I'm not letting you walk."

"I don't want a ride, Eddie," your voice took on an uncharacteristic hardened tick, something you've never had to use with Eddie. But you couldn't help it, your chest was caving in and lungs burning the longer you stayed there. "I just wanna walk for a bit, clear my head before homework, okay?"

He nodded slowly, "You sure, doll?"

"Positive."

Eddie frowned when your bag was tugged up your shoulder, turning from his room and jumping when he called, "Wait!"

Praying to God he was going to tell you he changed his mind and he wanted to ask you to prom - not Chrissy - you turned to look back to him. But he only pouted, "Don't leave without sayin' goodbye, sweetheart, c'mere."

Fearing the wet sensation coating your throat, you just backed up to the door and blindly reached for the doorknob, "You'll see me later, Eds. I've gotta go."

"Call me when you get home?" He asked, standing from his bed when you pulled his bedroom door open and moved out into the hall of his trailer. "Hey, hey, honey, what's the rush?" Eddie called, jogging a couple steps to follow after you.

"Just gotta go, Eds," you couldn't face him. But something tickled your throat and nose, prompting you to ask, "Um, do you have any tissues?"

He nodded, watching you pause by the front door before turning for the bathroom. A moment later, he returned with a box and handed it over, "Take it. I'm sure your allergies are acting up."

You nodded, "Thanks."

"Wait - "

But you were out the door and surging down the steps of his 'porch', turning on the gravel and making for the main road. Eddie watched you go from his front door, worrying over whatever he'd said, but after wracking his mind, he couldn't understand. He didn't need to know your chest was so painful, you debated if you were having a heart attack at 18; making you desperate to get away from him if it meant the pain would lessen.

You cried the whole walk home. The 8-minute car ride was actually a 41 minute walk due to the tightness in your chest, the tissue box tight in your hand as your lungs started to itch, burn, constrict themselves.

The coughing started that night. The entire walk, you used tissue after tissue to cough into and would ignore the flecks of color present against the soft white, shoving them down into your bag.

When you arrived home, the house was, as usual, empty. Steve Harrington used to hang out a lot with you due to how often both of your parents are out of town but once he started dating Nancy Wheeler, all visits stopped. Granted they were broken up now, he still didn't come back, and you were forced to get used to the loneliness. It left room for Eddie to slide into his place, often coming over to keep you company as being home alone for so long often made you nervous.

Eddie hated you feeling nervous, so, he had a couple of shirts and pants at your house for him to change into when he stayed the night. Now that he was going to make a move on Chrissy Cunningham, it made you think there wouldn't ever be other sleepovers. You worried he would never come back to your home, and an ice pick was conjured to stab through my heart.

In your room, you tossed your bag to your bed and groaned when it bounced off and spilled the contents over the floor. Shaking your head, you coughed a couple more times and got ready for bed; but soon, the coughing turned violent.

Kneeling over, your throat burned with crushing pain as your chest felt too tight with pressing tension. The heaviness was back, sitting right on your sternum and causing a twisting discomfort when you hurled into the toilet bowl. However, when your watery eyes opened, they were staring straight into clear water that was peppered with tiny little florals with swirls of bright red blood.

Panting in shock, confusion inked into your mind as you stood shakily to your feet and rushed for your bag again, pushing through the belongings to find the used tissues. Panic swelled in your chest when the tissues found, too, were coated in petals and blood.

"What?" you whispered to yourself, fear taking over. However, instead of doing the rational thing, like go to the hospital, you just threw the tissues away, flushed the rest, and curled up in bed out of exhaustion and draining adrenaline. Sobs wracked your lungs, making your body convulse and for the coughing to get worse.

You didn't move all weekend. You couldn't, for the pain was too great in your heart, mind, and body. Even when the phone rang multiple times through those two days, you couldn't care enough to get out of bed and answer it to see whatever was wanted from you. When the next Monday came around, you forced yourself to get in the shower and wake up from the cold water; getting dressed and heading out the front door to spy Eddie's van at the base of your driveway.

You sighed and made sure there were extra tissues in your bag as you made for his passenger door. When you hopped in, you were greeted with a glare.

"How was the essay?" he grits.

"Fine," you sighed, knowing it was a lie to make your swift escape, and leaned your arm on the door to prop your head up and stare out the window.

"Mhm. Thanks for letting me know you got home safe," he snipped. "Not like I was driving around at 1 am to make sure you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere."

You nodded slowly, "I forgot, I-I'm sorry."

"You forgot?" he repeated before scoffing. But when he glanced over and noted the heavy bags under your distant (watery) eyes, he frowned, "Hey? Y-You okay?"

"Mhm."

"Your nose is bleeding."

"Shit," you hissed, reaching for a tissue, and trying to mop up the blood from under both nostrils. "It's nothing," you tried to explain, sniffling a few times, and noting how sharp the action made your chest. Like something was stabbing through you, perhaps that ice pick again.

He shook his head, leering, "Suuuuure, mhm, okay." But when you didn't respond for another 3 minutes, he was annoyingly asking, "The hell's up with you?"

"Nothing, Eddie."

"Bullshit! You haven't looked at me once, didn't even greet me when you got in, and now you're sitting there, silent as the grave."

You only shrugged, not knowing how to put it in words, "Just tired, Eddie."

"Bullshit," he sighed. "But fine, if you don't want to talk, that's whatever. Just continue ignoring me, I guess."

Your eyes shut as you sighed, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"Why? What'd you do?"

Only shrugging, your head shook, and you sat up when you two made it to school. The moment the car stopped - not even in park - you were opening the passenger door and hopping out to take desperate gulps of fresh air. You waited a moment as Eddie got out, too, and just as his arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders to lead you into school, his attention was caught by someone else.

"Oh, there's Chrissy," he smiled, seeing the pretty cheerleader at her car. "Should I do it now?"

Gulping, you shrugged, "Do whatever makes you happy, Eds."

Eddie didn't understand what he did wrong to deserve your cold shoulder but figured he could talk to you later before making a beeline for Chrissy while you made for the front of the school. You ignored peers around you as you stuffed books and such into your locker, wheezing into a tissue when coughing took over.

A few other students paused to look at you with concern; you hand slamming to a closed locker as you couldn't draw breath in. The pain was suffocating, and the coughing made you nearly double over.

Robin paused at the sight, making her way over to you and just before she could ask if you were okay, she was gasping lightly. Looking up, you saw what caught her attention to spy Eddie Munson entering school with Chrissy Cunningham daintily hanging off his arm. Jason's glare was most prominent, but your best friend’s was much, much fiercer, and you? You had to look away because the ice pick was now hacking at your heart; palpitations making your chest throb with white-hot tension.

"Oh, no," Robin paused, glancing at you to see tears already in your eyes as your hands shook. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry - "

"Why?" You sniffled, shaking your head. "Doesn't matter, they look happy, right?"

"You don't," she whispered.

"Doesn't matter," you repeated. "I'll see you later, Rob."

She frowned as you charged away, watching you go as Eddie and Chrissy came to a halt beside her. "She say what was wrong with her?" Eddie asked the girl softly.

"No," Robin grit her teeth, offering him a stale up and down look. Though, she was slightly impressed Eddie bagged the popular cheerleader, she knew of your feelings for the metalhead, and huffed through her nose before taking off down the hall after you.

"Is everyone mad at me now?" He asked, looking down to the girl he'd successfully asked to prom.

"I'm not," Chrissy chirped with a soft smile.

So, here's the whole thing. Even though you've denied it for years, your friends knew DAMN well how in-love with Eddie you were. Robin had been the only one to really pick up on it a few years ago but kept quiet because of how close you and Eddie were. However, when you sat down for lunch, the Hellfire Club were ready to ask what was wrong when they saw their Dungeon Master enter the cafeteria with Chrissy.

They offered you looks of pity, understanding your behavior now.

Your hands started to shake, and you coughed harshly, bending at the waist to cough into a tissue half under the table. From beside you, Dustin caught a glimpse of pink and red in the tissue as your hand fisted over it and sniffled hotly. "Are you okay?" Gareth asked in concern, his wide eyes looking ready to shed tears. "You're sweating."

"Yeah," you whispered, catching sight of Eddie and Chrissy heading for your table. "Um, I-I forgot I have a test to make up in Spanish, so, I'll see you guys later, okay?" You rushed, picking up your untouched tray of food and shouldered your bag.

Before any of them could protest, you were tossing the tray and racing out of the opposite doors Chrissy and Eddie had come in through. You vaguely heard Eddie calling your name, never turning around, and shoving out of the doors.

You gasped when the fresh air hit you, not caring that you lied about some test and now headed down for the field. You didn't care if someone picked up on your lie. You didn't care about anything other than the crushing feeling in your chest; the way your lungs felt deflated, and how your throat was consistently wet from blood.

Robin had seen your abrupt departure and left Nancy Wheeler's side to follow you. When she found you under the bleachers, coughing and throwing up with tears down your cheeks, she knew something was wrong. Robin crawled under the bleachers, not caring about the trash or debris left, to reach your side and hold your hair back.

"Oh, my God," she wobbled, catching sight of the puddle under you. "W-What the hell is that?"

You panted, a string of blood hanging from your lips before falling to the saliva beneath you. "I-I think... I think something's wrong, Robin."

"No shit!" She hissed. "Let me take you to the nurse - "

"No, it's fine," you insisted, using another tissue to wipe at the blood under your nose. "I uh... I think I know what's going on."

"What?"

"We'll need to go to the library first," you nodded before shaking your head. "No, never mind, y-you should go back to class."

"Nope," she insisted. "I'll go to the library with you. Want me to call Steve? Get us a ride?"

You sniffled and nodded, tugging your bent knees into your chest as she nodded and begged you to stay put before dashing for the outside payphone. She felt anger as her eyes cast through the glass windows of the cafeteria, catching sight of Chrissy and Eddie laughing away with the rest of the Hellfire Club. Her fingers roughly punched in Steve's number and insisted he come pick you and her up. "Right fucking now, dingus!"

About 9 minutes later, Eddie had glanced out of the windows and caught the distance sight of Robin holding you in her arms and walking you (slowly) to Steve Harrington's trademark BMW.

His brows furrowed in confusion and concern before Chrissy's sweet voice was distracting him. In fact, he might've let himself get swept up in the sweetness of Chrissy - that he forgot you. The girl he's wanted since middle school was finally in his grasp but in order to do that, he had to let you go - resulting in cherry blossoms to sprout in your lungs.

The moment he made up his mind about Chrissy was the moment your fate was sealed. And after a trip to the library with Steve and Robin, you had your answer as to what was going on. It didn't make sense, but you understood there were three options for you at this point.

Option One: die. Literally, that was it. Let this disease kill you. Okay, then Option Two: get Eddie to love you back... And that was seemingly farfetched and way out of asking range. Third Option was to undergo a surgery, but according to literature, choosing this surgery would save your life but erase Eddie Munson from your memory. It was the only way to stop the pain besides dying from it or make someone to fall in love with you.

But that wasn't real love, was it?

So, you checked the book out and Steve drove you home.

You thought you could handle things, after all, the book said it could be manageable. So, you soldiered on and played everything off the next Monday as if you had some head cold making you a bit off, and not literal florals blooming in your fucking lungs.

Eddie didn't question it because he was too excited to tell you that Chrissy had said yes. She said yes - to him! To prom! And she was going to wear red, his favorite color. He was so shocked, it made you want to weep a little because Eddie Munson seemed to be the only one (minus Jason Carver) to not understand how amazing Eddie Munson truly was...

Well, maybe the rest of the school body didn't understand either, but that was beside the point. Eddie was always too hard on himself and hearing how shocked and happy he was that Chrissy said yes, just made you honestly sad. He didn't even know how loved he was, making the self-deprivation very real. It was once upon time ago that your job was to help him out of those ruts, but now it would be Chrissy's responsibility.

You knew if he was yours, you wouldn't let a single day go by where he thought he was inadequate. But he wasn't yours, and now that he had Chrissy, you knew he never would be.

Your throat swelled and more petals were coughed into a tissue in your hand when you realized that you'd bought a prom dress (in case Eddie did ask you) about a month ago, and it, too, was red. Yet, he was going to match Chrissy and you'd wasted $150 on a pretty, silk dress... And new heels because your mother insisted you feel (and look) like a princess.

You tried to be excited and happy for him, but it was hard to when Eddie was enraptured with Chrissy. You coughed more in that week than when you had that terrible flu 2 years ago.

When that Friday rolled around, you were heading for his van (like usual), only to find him and Chrissy waiting on you.

"Hey," you greeted cautiously, smiling at the pretty girl you never really had a full conversation with.

"Hey," Eddie smiled - and you noted the lack of pet name. "Uh, you ready to go?"

"Um, yeah," you cleared your throat, glancing at Chrissy again.

He understood your nonverbal question. "I'm thinking I'll drop you off at home first. Cool?" Eddie offered, looking at you as his arm snaked around Chris' waist.

Confusion warped into your voice, "Um, i-it's Friday?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"I-I thought we hung out on Fridays? Like, every Friday?"

Eddie's other hand rose to rub the back of his neck, "Well, yeah, usually, but I'm taking Chrissy out on a date, so, I'll have to drop you off first."

"Oh," your eyes widened, and you felt so fucking stupid in that moment. "Shit, okay, my bad," you backed away, "I can get another ride, it's no big deal. Have fun on your date!"

"Hey, no, don't be ridiculous," Eddie shook his head, taking a tentative step forward as if he was nervous to leave Chrissy's side and approach you. "I take you home every day, c'mon. It's nothing, get in the van. I always take you home."

But you felt sick over the petty idea of sitting in the back while Chrissy took your seat in Eddie's car... Your place in Eddie's life.

Your head shook and a half-smile was forced over your lips. "No, it's seriously okay. You guys should go, it's cool. Have fun, okay?"

Eddie frowned, "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"

"Sure," you whispered, turning finally, and hustling your steps back for the school. Your hand balled in a fist to catch the splatter of blood and petals that shot out of your mouth, trying to shake the sick off so nobody would notice.

Light pink petals danced to the pavement behind you, and your heart plummeted with it as Eddie's van tires squealed when he peeled out of the carpark.

Robin was still at school and agreed to give you a ride home with Steve and Dustin Henderson; the two sharing looks of concern for you the entire drive. They kept asking if they could do anything, but the truth was, they could see the life slowly draining from you, and knew they couldn't do anything.

You didn't answer Eddie's call that night. You didn't let him drive you to school, either, since he'd been busy with Chris that all your conversations now revolved around the girl. This didn't mean he didn't come pick you up, but you usually always opted for the bus to "catch up on reading." You didn't hang out on Fridays either, because it was "date night with Chrissy", and you didn't sit at the Hellfire Club table at lunch.

It went on like this for another three weeks. Eddie replaced you with Chrissy, and she was everywhere you looked. You stopped going to lunch all together in an effort to save yourself from the sight of Eddie's arm around the pretty, popular cheerleader; instead, coughing out cherry blossoms under the bleachers and then forcing a smile on your lips like nothing happened.

The time you did spend together (a minuscule amount of time in comparison), Eddie would fill the space between you with chatter about how amazing Chrissy was - unaware of the pain he was causing you.

Unaware that every word strangled air and rational thought from you.

Unaware that you often held your breath to save you from the pain; to save you from bursting into tears; to save you from yelling at your best friend that you didn't care he finally bagged his crush.

Eddie was going mad, however. He didn't understand your distance, but he also didn't do anything to rectify the situation. He just figured you were going through something, and you'd show up at his trailer soon; tears down your cheeks as his arms open to welcome you.

He started to count the day since he last touched you. Eddie began to feel as if maybe he'd done the right thing by choosing Chrissy due to how far you pulled away from him. He's loved you for years but never admitted or confronted the feelings; so, he convinced himself to let you go in pursuit of Chrissy. So, to save himself from rejection of the most important person in his life, he thought it was a "safer rejection" by asking Chrissy.

He was just shocked she accepted, though he had a sneaking suspicion it was just to piss Jason off. Eddie didn't mind being her distraction because Chrissy was his distraction from you.

When the week of prom rolled around, you couldn't get out of bed because you were in excruciating pain in your heart and mind. Your mother had left on another business trip and only left a stack of cash for "emergencies", telling you she loved you, and never noticing your overflowing waste bin of bloody tissues. So, when Eddie rolled up that Monday, he was confused when you didn't come outside for a few minutes. He beeped, waited longer, beeped again - louder - before confusion troubled his heart.

He knew you were upset and distant, he knew you "liked" riding the bus now; but he also knew you weren't out of your house, yet. He planned on showing up earlier than the time you left, because he wanted to ensure you drove to school together - like usual.

Eddie got out of his van and approached your door, knocking repeatedly but never receiving an answer.

When he got to school, Chrissy told him to call your house and check on you - standing with him, as all he did was listen to the dial tone of a connecting call. You never answered.

At lunch, Eddie found Robin and asked her if she spoke to you at all this past weekend. She glared, "What? You didn't?"

"No," Eddie admitted, "I-I was with Chrissy the whole - "

Robin's eyes rolled and she stood abruptly, making Eddie take a step back. "Forgive me while I go vomit," Robin deadpanned, casting a single glare over his shoulder to the strawberry blonde before pushing past them both.

Eddie asked Hellfire what he'd done - but none of them had an answer. "She's not been looking well," Dustin mentioned. "Keeps coughing out blood."

"What?" Eddie asked, rigid with fear.

Dustin nodded slowly, "I don't think she knows I know, but Steve gave her a ride with us, and her tissues are all bloody."

"She's coughing out blood?" Gareth asked sadly, Dustin nodding. "That's not good, we should get her to a hospital."

"She won't go," Dustin frowned. "I heard Robin trying to convince her, but she keeps saying she's fine."

"She's not fine," Eddie growled.

"Obviously," Lucas rolled his eyes. "She's also not sat with us for weeks."

"She's been avoiding everyone," Jeff added sadly.

"Wonder why," Lucas sneered, casting a glare at his Dungeon Master.

"Am I supposed to know what you're insinuating, Sinclair?" Eddie snipped.

"Aren't you her best friend? Shouldn't you know that she's sick - instead of hearing it from Dustin?"

Eddie shrugged, "So, what? I haven't been able to track her every move. I've been busy - "

"With Chrissy," Dustin and Lucas chimed together; Lucas rolling his eyes before stabbing a green bean forcefully.

"We know," the Freshman 'all-star' basketball player rolled his eyes, pushing his tray away and glaring to the tabletop.

"What did I do?" Eddie asked, looking to his comrades with earnest confusion.

None of them answered because nobody knew what was really wrong. All your friends (including outside of Hellfire) felt concern fester because you were never forthcoming with problems. You never asked for help - it was something observed by others before they're offering you a hand. So, if you were going through something, they knew you'd handle it alone until you couldn't anymore and would confide in them.

Eddie grew increasingly frustrated as time went. For you, time was slower than ever, and you were forced to live through each painful retch and convulsion of your muscles. You laid in bed; a bloody projectile pattern splattered across your sheets; dotted with sticky, pretty petals.

The night of prom rolled around, and you were knelt in front of your toilet again. It had gotten worse; Dustin phoning you every day to update you on school, and unconsciously complaining about how much time Eddie and Chrissy were spending - causing a riff in the group. You tried to assure the Freshman that it was a new and exciting relationship for them both, but Dustin voiced his concerns after spying Chrissy speaking with her ex, Jason Carver.

The vomiting got worse after Dusty's phone call. Acid burned your nose and your throat wept for relief; finding only more pain as the toilet bowl before you decorated with not just your blood, but actual buds of flowers. You knew naturally that cherry blossoms didn't have thorns, but there, before you, were floating pieces of your flesh that was cut from the sharp floral.

You sobbed the whole night. Your chest was ready to cave in and the vomiting, nor pain, wouldn't stop. You wondered if this was how it ended for you - alone, on prom night, coughing out blood while the rest of the town got their romantic night.

Fuckers, you thought bitterly.

But then - the weirdest fucking thing happened. Amid vomiting more buds and thorns, your chest started to feel a little clearer and you could cough the rattling wetness from your lungs. There was just slight relief, but enough for you to draw in harsh breaths. You panted and spat out another bloom, trying to ignore how oddly poetically beautiful this was - to die by a fucking flower strangling you. Your body was thinner in the weeks since your turmoil started, throat too raw to pass any food as your lungs were stuffed with petals. It made living harder.

It made getting out of bed physically impossible.

It made your feet numb.

Your chest to ache.

Your head to throb.

And your stomach to knot itself.

Sweat pooled over your brow and your hand rose to wipe at your nose, smearing blood over your cheek. More vomiting. More pain. More petals and blooms and thorns and blood.

It felt like it'd never end but that was the most justice you had - that this would kill you because you couldn't let go of the love you had for Edward Munson. Love that would last a lifetime - or until it killed you.

Seemed like a fate closer than graduation.

You were startled when knuckles began rapping on your window as another violent purge overtook you. Shaking and sobbing, you ignored whoever had climbed up to your window because you were so focused on keeping your hair back as you purged.

The rapping turned into full-on pounding; the glass pane shaking.

The blossoms were bigger now. Thicker. Small, wee little stems on them that only added to your pain. Petals were left behind on your tongue and sticking to your cheeks; throat bleeding into your stomach from the way thorns shredded it up and down.

"Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart," you recognized Eddie's voice over the sounds of your retching. "Oh, my God, my sweet girl. Shit, you're okay, you're okay, I got you," he assured quietly, taking your hair in his hands to hold back as another wave racked through your body. "You're okay, let it out," he soothed, sitting on the lip of the bathtub, and rubbing your back.

You sniffled and spat the remaining petals from your mouth, using your arms to cover the toilet bowl and block his sight. "W-What're you doing here?" You asked through a thick tongue.

"Your window was open, I let myself in." He reached out for the toilet paper and pulled a bit off, gingerly reaching up and wiping the blood from your lips. "A-Are those petals?" He asked in shock, looking at the toilet tissue.

"Why're you here, Eddie?" You asked again, turning to close the toilet lid and rest your head on it. The cool porcelain felt nice on your feverish skin.

"Where else would I want to be?"

You scoffed, "Just fuck off back to Chrissy, I know that's where you want to be."

It was quiet as sweat dried on your skin and created a new cooling sensation across your tired muscles. "Why're you throwing up blood and petals?"

"Why are you here?" You snapped, lifting your head to glare at him. "If I wanted you around, I would've called."

"Haven't called me in weeks."

"Then maybe I don't want you around. Just go - get out," you grit, turning away from him again. "This is hard enough without you fucking here. Get out."

It was quiet as Eddie didn't move, your chest rattling with every labored breath to make it sound like a wheeze. It caused a new wave of violent coughing, Eddie's eyes widening when you appeared to choke on something in your throat, toilet lid lifted as your fingers crammed in the back of your throat.

From this position, Eddie could make out the blood and blooms floating in the water, flinching when you threw up blood - a sight he'd never wanted to see again. Thorns cut your mouth and lips, making you whimper in sheer pain as your chest was ready to cave in finally. Sweat coated your skin again, and Eddie refused to leave your side. He watched you as your body shook with each retch; how the color of blood stained your lips like expensive make-up.

When you panted and threw yourself back to the wall behind you, Eddie reached out and started to wipe blood from your nose, mouth, chin, and cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"Tell you what?" You wheezed.

"That you were sick."

You scoffed, "Would it have mattered? You're too busy with Chrissy."

He shook his head, "We broke up."

Now this - this shocked you. Your brows furrowed, "It's prom night."

"Mhm."

"All you wanted was to go to that stupid fucking dance with her," you pointed out with a glare.

Eddie nodded, "I thought so, too. Until we got there, and I realized that I was with the wrong girl... I thought I wanted to be with her, she was unobtainable and has been my crush for years..."

"Guessing the real thing didn't compare with your imagination?" You sneered, rolling your eyes. "Big fucking deal, Eddie - "

"No, no, I uh... I just, we got there, and I wanted it to be you."

Something in your chest twisted.

"That's not funny," your eyes rolled again.

"I'm not joking. I wanted to be with you all night - hell, every day of the past few weeks that you've been avoiding me, I just wanted to be with you. Why did you pull away from me? Was it that shitty to see me and Chris together?"

You admitted, "Yes."

"What?"

You chuckled dryly, "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

And there it was... "Yeah," You whispered, "love me like a best friend, right - " Only, the words were gargled as you leaned forward and puked violently.

"No, sweetheart," Eddie frowned, holding your hair again. "Shit, this isn't good, baby, we need to get you to a hospital."

"No," You groaned into the bowl.

"Please," he begged, other hand coming to soothe up and down your back. "You're in pain, and - "

"It doesn't matter, Eddie," you coughed again, sticking your tongue out to pick a few petals off. They fell to the water, a sightly morbidly beautiful image as thick blood swirled.

"It does matter! To me, it does!"

"Why!?"

"Because - Jesus Christ!" He raged, anger finally morphing over his expression. "I'm in love with you, God damn it!"

Your brows furrowed, bottom lip trembling, "W-What?"

He shook his head, "You really don't know?"

"Know WHAT?" You felt anger swell in your stomach. "That I've spent the past however many years thinking I was only good enough to be your friend, and now you're telling me you're in love with me? What? Did Chrissy stand you up? You need a rebound?"

He sighed, nudging you over an inch to slide down the wall into the space between you and the bathtub. You both stared forward, a light splattering of blood across the pale porcelain you stared at.

"I was the one who left her," he admitted with a sigh. "I just... We got to the first dance, and I just hated myself, because all I wanted - for the last few weeks, too - has been to have you in my arms, again. I've missed you more than anything."

You shook your head, "You've wanted Chrissy - "

"She was a want, doll," he whispered. "But I realized tonight that you're a need. I need you in my life, baby, please believe me. Look, I-I got caught up in the excitement of dating Chrissy, but she knew my heart wasn't 100% in it, and told me it was okay."

"Ch-Chrissy told you to leave?"

"She told me to run to you and not let go when I had you in my arms," he nodded, looking down at me now. "She knew the whole time... I couldn't stand being away from you, not talking to you, so she offered to help distract me until I bucked up the nerve."

"Nerve to what?"

"Ask you to be mine," he smiled softly. "Look, I know, I've had this thing for Chris, and when I finally had her, I just didn't know what to do. But she knew the whole time, and insisted I come find you."

"Oh," you breathed, chest tight for a new reason.

"And I realized I was at prom with the wrong woman," he nodded, gingerly reaching his hand out to stroke over mine. I sniffled and turned my hand over to lace our fingers together, leaning into his shoulder. "Not seeing you there, I felt worse than ever before. I couldn't admit I was in love with you - I was scared we'd lose this. Our friendship, we'd lose the comfort and protection."

Tears swelled in your eyes as you squeezed them shut; a few tears rolling sadly down your cheeks. "You don't mean that..."

"How can you say that?" He asked incredulously.

"Because you just feel bad," you whimpered. "It's okay, Eddie. I'm okay - you don't have to do this. It doesn't matter - "

"Anything regarding you, to me, definitely matters. Why're you so against this - against us?"

"Because it's not real," you sniffled. "You've been in love with - "

"Please, please, go ask Chrissy yourself," Eddie begged, shaking his head. "She'll tell you - go ask Dustin, Garth, Jeff - anyone, baby. Please. I'm in love with you, and I need you to believe it."

"Why now?"

"Why what?"

"Why tell me now?"

He chuckled, "Because I hoped there was enough time to get here and take the girl of my dreams to prom."

"You don't even like prom. Or any social gathering, for that matter."

He chuckled, "Yeah, very true, but you're everything to me and I know you wanted to go. Remember last year?" You sighed, soft smile stretching across your face. "You were so excited that I made you that pact that if neither of us had a date, we'd go together." You nodded against his shoulder. "And I just thought... I thought other guys wanted to take you, and you'd want to go with them more sine they could give you the full 'prom experience'. So, I panicked and focused on Chrissy..."

You sighed, "I wish you told me the truth... And that you'd have just asked me properly."

"I regret nothing more," he sighed. "Because it made you feel left out and neglected."

You nodded, "Eddie?"

"Yeah, peaches?"

The old nickname from 10th grade made heat pool in your chest, cheeks, and ears; feeling flustered as you whispered, "I'm in love with you, too."

"Yeah?" He chuckled.

"Mhm."

He sighed, "Oh, thank God."

You couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "What?"

He looked down at you with a grin, "Been waiting years to hear that."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Since I decked Carver in the face, yeah," he breathed. "Just wanted to pull you into my arms and tell you how much I loved you."

"Maybe if you did, we could've had more time together."

"We have all the time in the world now, baby," he beamed. "'Cause I'm not letting you go - hear me? You're mine, and I'm not letting go."

You smiled and leaned up so you could rest your forehead on his, "I don't want you to let go."

"I'll hold on forever, baby," he whispered. "But I have something important to ask you..."

"Hmm?"

"Think you're feeling up for a dance with me?"

You chuckled and nodded, "Uh, maybe one. Do we have to go to the school?"

"Nope, not if you don't want to."

You paused for a moment, asking shyly, "Eddie?"

"Yeah, peaches?"

"Would you go to prom with me?"

Eddie chuckled, "You're throwing up blood, baby, I think I should take you to the hospital instead. C'mon, instead of a prom dress, I'll dance with you in a hospital gown."

You couldn't help but giggle under your breath. "Come with me, I need to show you something," you sighed after, reaching forward to flush the blood and petals before standing up. With his hand in yours, you lead him from the bathroom and to your room, sitting on the bed and placing a book in his lap.

"What am I looking at?"

"Just... Read this page," you pointed to the paragraph you wanted him to read; taking the spot beside him and leaning to his shoulder again as he scanned the page quickly.

"Holy shit," he breathed at the end, looking up at you with tears in his eyes. "Doll, no, no, no. I-I did this to you?"

"I did it to myself," you whispered.

"B-But I've been in love with you, too? So, how did this happen?"

"Neither of us admitted it to ourselves. At least for me, it was until the night you told me you were thinking of asking Chrissy out."

"For me, it was until tonight," he realized with a whisper. "I-I told Chrissy I loved you, an-and it was the first time I admitted it..."

You nodded, "Yeah... So, uh... Yeah."

"Fuck," he shook his head. "I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know it hurt you this bad. Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you didn't deserve that. I'm so sorry."

"But it's over now, right?" you asked quietly.

"Yeah, baby, it's all over," he nodded, tossing the library book aside to turn and wrap you in his arms. He whined lightly and tugged so you were straddled in his lap, running a hand through your hair. "Oh, my sweet girl, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the pain."

"You're here now," You whispered into his neck, fingers twirling a strand of his hair as your other hand clung to his neck. "That's all I care about."

"I'm never leaving you again," he swore, arms tight around my waist to drag me all the closer. "I'm so sorry, peaches, I-I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay," you promised, sniffling after. "I could've spoken up, too, but I was ashamed. I didn't want to ruin anything between you and Chrissy."

"Promise me, you'll tell me from now on. Okay? I don't care what's happening or where you and I stand - you fucking tell me if something's going on with you, okay?"

You nodded, sniffling lightly, "Yeah, okay, baby, deal."

"Hey," he cooed, pulling me from his neck. His hand reached up to caress the side of my cheek, "I love you, pretty girl."

The smile on your lips felt silly, but you replied, "I love you, too, baby."

"Can I kiss you? Please?" He pouted, making you chuckle lightly before reaching for his cheek and bringing him in to meet your lips. He groaned in relief, hands tightly over your ribs before sliding to your back as his tongue poked against your lips, sweeping into your mouth in a slick dance. You whined lightly, Eddie making a noise of surprise as he pulled back, a string of saliva trailing between your lips.

Your brows furrowed as he reached up and picked something from his tongue; a light pink cherry blossom petal stuck between his pointer and thumb. "Oh, my God," you wheezed, leaning forward to rest against his chest and push your face into his neck. "I'm so sorry."

He chuckled and let the petal flutter to the ground, "Kinda hot."

"Eddie," you whined.

"I'm sorry, baby," he chuckled, pecking the side of my head. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, much better now, honestly. Having you here helps."

He pulled back to grin brightly at you, "Wanna go to prom then?"

You sighed lightly, gazing down at him in his suit and smiling lightly when you pressed over his red shirt. "Did you match Chrissy?"

He sighed, "She ended up choosing a green dress. Thought red was more my color," he smirked lightly. "But I can't lie, we looked like human Christmas."

You snorted in humor. "Red's definitely your color," you agreed, glancing back at your closet before back at him. "Um, wanna give me a few minutes? We can leave after?"

"Take as much time as you need, peaches," he nodded, leaning in with another smile to press his lips to your own. He chuckled a few times, pecking his lips rapidly before pulling away.

Within an hour, your hair was fixed off your neck; make-up minimal but still noticeable; and red dress shimmied up your body to then tie over your shoulders. Lacing your shoes on, you looked in the mirror before exiting your room and descending the stairs to find Eddie hunched over a counter, working in the kitchen on something.

You cleared your throat as your fingers fiddled together nervously when Eddie turned, and you swear time stopped. "Shit," he breathed, eyes weeping you up and down. "Oh, my... God."

"Yeah?" you asked, looking over the red material.

"Oh, hell yeah," he nodded, slowly approaching you. "You look beautiful, peaches, wow... Shit."

"You've said that," you teased. "Whatcha makin' over there?"

He smirked and picked up a flower from the counter, turning and taking your wrist. "My girl needs a corsage," he explained, showing off the flower he'd clipped from an old bouquet and then fashioned with a rubber band and safety pin. "There," he smiled when it was settled, "now you're ready for senior prom, huh?"

You nodded, hands placed to his chest as you smoothed out a few wrinkles, "You look unbelievably good right now."

He chuckled, "Look who's talkin'. Givin' Bo Derek a run for her money, aren't you? God damn."

You couldn't help the bright grin across your face, stepping into his embrace. "I love you," you whispered.

"I don't think I'll get tired to hearing that," he beamed, pecking your lips after. "I love you, too, baby - so much. And I'm so sorry it took me this long to admit it. You didn't deserve anything you suffered through..."

"It's done now," you nodded.

"And we're never going back," his hands rose to caress either of my cheeks. "Now - wanna go rock this prom?"

"Smoke up your van after?"

"You know it, princess," he grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. "My lady," he smirked teasingly, offering his bent arm.

"My lord," you breathed, arm around his, and chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks months. Maybe things would be okay and they could work out, but for now, it was refreshing to live in the moment with Eddie. Your partner in crime. Your other half. Your best friend, and now your boyfriend. Someone you adored - and someone who adored you in full return.

Maybe love wasn't too bad after all - when it's not trying to suffocate you from the inside.

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

Text

(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)

When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.

It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.

"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."

"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."

"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."

"Eddie, c'mon-"

"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."

He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.

"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"

"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."

"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."

Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."

"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."

"No."

Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-

"Eddie? Gareth?"

Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:

"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."

She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.

"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."

Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?

"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"

She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."

His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.

"You're annoying."

He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…

It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.

His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…

"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.

"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."

"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."

She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.

"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"

Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!

"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"

"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.

(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)

Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"

"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"

"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."

"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.

She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."

Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…

Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.

"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"

Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.

"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"

"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"

Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."

Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."

"I had stuff I needed to drop off."

"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."

Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.

Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.

"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"

Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?

"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"

Holyshityesitis!

"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."

"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"

"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!

"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.

Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."

"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."

Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.

They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.

The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.

The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."

"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"

Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.

"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.

Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.

"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.

This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.

"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.

Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."

"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.

"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.

"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.

Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."

"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."

He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.

(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)

Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.

"I figured out where I've seen you before."

Eddie stiffens.

Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"

"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"

Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.

"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"

"November," Steve confirms, muffled.

"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."

Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.

"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"

"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!

"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."

"All parents do," Lucas says.

Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"

Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."

That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.

And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…

All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.

Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.

The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:

"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"

"Huh?"

"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."

The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, it is," Gareth says.

"It's not," Max says.

"It is!"

"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"

She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.

Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."

"Yes, it was."

"How do you know?"

She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.

Gareth screams, "WHAT!"

"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"

She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."

"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"

"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"

She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"

Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?

Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.

Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"

"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.

Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."

"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.

Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.

------------------------------

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,

I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part 4

#the entire conversation in the van - and the purpose of max's role - came to me late at night #and i was so excited i could barely sleep afterward #everything fell into place after that #steddie fic: november paramedic #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #my writing #ok so about the car:#(first off i want to admit i know nothing about cars)#in the show steve drives a bmw 733i. the car is gorgeous imo. however while luxurious at the time it's not expensive today.#so i looked up modern luxury cars and found the 30 jahre m5 - the limited edition from when bmw m5 celebrated 30yrs in 2014 #only 300 got made and only 30 were sold in the us. they were as you might imagine expensive.#so the story here is that steve got one for his 16th birthday (would've been in 2015 in this fic)#probably from a doting grandparent since i doubt his parents would've given something so expensive to a teen #fun fact: every 30 jahre m5 is colored 'frozen dark silver' (gray. they're fucking gray.)#but since it's NOT steve's car if it's not burgundy and since i've already erased covid's existence... i don't think this change matters

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clbrq · 6 months

Note

PLS DO MORE SAM AND COLBY SMUTSSS

DOUBLE TROUBLE - C. BROCK & S. GOLBACH.

warnings; HEAVY SMUT, fingering, oral (both receiving and giving), p in v sex, cursing/swearing, alcohol consumption, kinda like a tag team kinda thing but they don’t know about it LMAO just read.

minors dni.

-/-

You had always been attracted to your best friends. Not even in a strange way; you just thought they were both two good-looking men. Sam and Colby had been your friends since high school, your friendship dating back to when you were all living in Kansas. You can remember filming their vines, and helping them create ideas for their next ones. And when you all grew up, they both matured into two beautiful boys that you admired deeply.

Sam had a gorgeous smile, so contagious and relaxing. When he smiled, you felt happiness bloom inside your body. He also had amazingly, well cared for hair—his blonde locks were always clean and soft, easy for you to run your fingers through. His personality always lightened up your mood too, and the leadership side of him always brought you a lot stability.

Similarly, Colby was such handsome man, you almost buckled to your knees by just looking at him. He had incredible, ocean blue eyes that twinkled in the sunlight, bringing you ultimate joy when you caught a glimpse of them. Colby also, similar to Sam, had an unbelievably contagious laugh, that rang a cheerful feeling through you as the noise escaped his lips.

However, after the occasional one too many drinks, you often looked at your two best friends very differently. It was like the alcohol in you made you view your two friends in dangerously sexual manner. When you looked at Sam, you wanted him to carefully take care of you, make you feel good, but when you looked at Colby, you wanted him to absolutely destroy you. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself.

And that’s exactly how you felt right now.

You were stood with a group of your friends, including Sam and Colby, surrounded by dancing, drunk people, enjoying the 10 million subscribers party they were hosting. They always hosted the best parties—the one’s where you somehow got the most drunk. Stood with you was Corey, Jake, Tara, and Aryia, all chatting comfortably with each other.

But, you couldn’t help your eyes as they landed on Sam, the way he smiled at the joke Aryia made, forcing a smile to land on your face simultaneously. He stood with his arms loosely hanging by his sides, and a structured stance, watching as Corey laughed at Jake doing something stupid.

A small voice from next to you pulled you out of your trance, “Come get a drink with me?” Tara grinned up at you, her small height making you giggle.

“Yeah, sure, I’m feeling too sober anyway.” You replied, walking behind her as you both grab a black cherry White Claw—Sam’s favourite.

Before you could crack it open and take a sip, the can was taken out your hands, “Hey!”

“What?” Sam chuckled, “Shotgun it. That’s way more fun.”

“And why would I do that?” You snapped back, smirking up at him.

“Because I said so, and you love me, so you’ll do it.” Sam stated, grinning back.

Rolling your eyes, you knew he was right, “Fine.”

“That’s my girl.”

His voice rattled through your brain as he grabbed a small knife, and placed it gently in your hands. You licked your lips as you punctured the side of the can and watched as it bubbled everywhere. Bringing it quickly up to your lips, you opened the top as you chugged the smooth beverage in front of him as he cheered you on. Once you’d finished the can, you threw the can in the bin as you caught your breath.

You turned Sam, feeling accomplished, “See? I did it.”

“Well done, but wait.” Sam replied, but suddenly approaching you. His thumb swiped your lip as he wiped away the access of the drink from your mouth.

Slowly, he placed his thumb into his mouth, sucking it clean from the alcohol that once remained. You watched in awe, as you felt your stomach flip, not only from the White Claw settling in your empty stomach, but how sexy Sam looked doing that.

“Come on, bet everyone’s missing us.” He dragged you back over to the group, grabbing two more drinks as you followed him.

Handing you another can, you stood next to Colby, feeling your heart rate instantly increase as you got a whiff of his strong, expensively alluring cologne. The smell was almost blinding as you breathed deeper due to how much this was affecting you.

“You alright, doll?” Colby’s voice whispered in your ear, his hot breath hitting your bare neck, sending shivers down your spine. His hand rested gently on your back as he leant down to talk to you.

“Yeah, just maybe need to sit down.” You mumbled back to him, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

“Let’s go upstairs, it’ll be quieter there.” He suggested, letting you lead the way as his hand stayed on your lower back as you both walked towards the stairs.

You and Colby stayed in silence as you reached his free, quiet bedroom. Colby shut and locked the door as you collapsed on his bed, shutting your eyes as your previous drinks were hitting you suddenly.

You felt eyes on you, watching you closely. Opening your eyes, you sat up to see Colby stood by your feet, observing your every move with a smirk on his face.

“May I help you, Mr. Brock?” You chuckled, shuffling closer to him.

“I’m not sure, can you?”

“What do you need?” You asked, innocently, wondering what was wrong with him.

“Well, ever since you walked through that door, Hell, ever since I met you; I’ve wanted nothing more than to rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless,” He admitted, his big hand making its way up to your red hot cheek, “but, since you’re my best friend, you’re off limits.”

“W-who decided that?” You blurted out, wanting nothing more for him to do all the things he just said.

Colby laughed darkly down at you, removing his hand while staring deep into your eyes, “Why? You want it?”

“Please.” You whispered, biting harshly onto your bottom lip as his touch lingered.

Colby didn’t speak but pushed you gently back onto the bed, and climbed on top of you, connecting your lips forcefully. The kiss was hot, and steamy, teeth clashing and moans erupting from both of your throats. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his lower half closer to yours. Colby moved his hips ever so slightly, grinding his obvious hard-on onto your clothed pussy.

“Mm, I need you.” You mumbled against his lips, your hands roaming through his brown locks, “Need you now, Colbs.”

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, sitting up to throw all his clothes off to the side, bar his boxers.

Colby then turned to you, slipping off your dress to reveal your naked chest, but your lacy panties underneath.

“God, you slut.” Colby whispered, grabbing both of your legs and placing them on his shoulders, “You’re practically begging me to fuck you with these on.” His fingers playing gingerly with the rim of your panties, making the arousal inside you grow.

“Please, Colby.”

“Please what?” He pushed back, wanting to hear you beg for him.

“Please, do something, touch me, please.” You whined, shimming in impatience.

Pulling your underwear off, Colby’s placed soft, teasingly slow kisses on your inner thighs, making sure you were absolutely begging for his tongue by the time he made it to your core. The way you whined and begged for him was enough as he placed his hot tongue against your aching clit. You cried out as he wrapped his pretty lips around your bud, sucking gently, taking his sweet time with you. You’d never felt pleasure like this as he reached his hand up slipped his middle finger into your clenching hole, curling them upwards, hitting the sweet spot deep inside you.

You arched your back, calling out his name as you grabbed onto his hair, pulling his locks, causing him to groan against you. Your pleasure increased as he twirled his tongue around your clit, occasionally giving it a small kiss, and then returning with his tongue. You could feel the knot in your stomach begging to tighten, the orgasm was about to hit you hard.

“Yeah, you gonna cum?” Colby asked, feeling you clench around his fingers, smirking from between your legs.

Only whining his name, begging him to continue with his mouth, he proceeded to do so. Colby flicked his tongue in a way that tipped you over the edge, the orgasm ripping through as you cried out loudly, not caring who heard. You twitched and writhed under him as ecstasy coursed throughout your body.

Standing up, Colby harshly grabbed your chin and pulling you in for a kiss, his tongue tasting sweetly of your arousal as it slid down your throat. His hand swiftly grasped your neck, kissing you roughly—he was clearly pent up.

“Bend over.” He demanded, pulling away from your swollen lips, a string of saliva and your slick connecting both of your mouths.

Doing quickly as you were told, you arched your ass into the sky for him, your pussy dripping with excitement. He knelt on the bed, teasing your spasming hole with the tip of his leaking cock.

“You ready for me, baby?” Colby purred, stroking your back, lovingly.

“Yes, Colby, please.” You winced, begging for him as you pushed your hips backwards.

Colby complied with your begging and slipped his hard cock quickly inside you, not caring for you to get used to his size. Crying out in both pain and pleasure, you gripped his bedsheets for support as he began to ram his pulsating cock inside you.

“God, you’re such a whore, aren’t you?” Colby taunted, his thrusts at a fast, yet steady, pace, “You’re so thirsty for my cock.”

“Yes, Colby, just for you.”

Colby laughed evilly from behind you, tightly grabbing onto your hips as his thrusts grew harder and deeper which each other. His rhythm so harsh, you were beginning to not see straight. He truly was fucking you senseless. You could feel another orgasm building up as he reached round to rub your clit as he pounded you from behind.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Colby announced, throwing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as the pleasure washed over him.

Groaning out your name as he filled you up deep inside, your second orgasm ripped through you. You heard ringing in your ears and stars in your eyes as his thrusts slowed down. Soon enough, he pulled out as you collapsed onto the bed.

“You okay?” Colby queried, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Yeah, I think so.” You murmured, eyes beginning to feel heavy as he spoke.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep, still got a whole party downstairs.”

Agreeing with his statement, you sat up, sighing as you did so.

“Did so good for me, baby.” Colby whispered, kissing the top of your head, “I’ll grab you some water.”

Colby wondered off to his bathroom with an empty cup in hand, as you slowly began to dress yourself. Once he returned, you drank the whole cup he had filled up for you, erupting a small laugh from his chest.

“Now, as much as I’d love to stay here and sleep with you,” Colby started, helping you back into your dress as you begin to wake up a bit more, “People will wonder where we’ve gone.”

You nodded as you adjusted your dress, and then leaning up to peck his lips, “Thank you.”

“No problem, love,” He smiled, “I’m gonna head to the bathroom, I’ll meet you down there.”

“Alright,” You answered, watching him walk towards the bathroom once more, and then exit bedroom yourself.

However, as you walked towards the stairs, a familiar face exited his room also, and caught your gaze.

“Sam?” You questioned, unsure on what he was doing upstairs and away from the party, “What are you doing up here?”

“I needed a charger,” Sam replied, furrowing his eyebrows as his eyes lingered on you for longer than you wanted, “Are you okay?”

You were taken aback by his words, “Uhm, yeah, I think.”

“Do you need some Advil or something? You look like you’ve thrown up about 10 times.” He chuckled, approaching you.

“No, no, I’m okay. Just feel a bit lightheaded.” You lied, not wanting to admit you just fucked his best friend.

“Here, come with me, we can chill in my room until you feel better.” Sam suggested, grabbing your hand gently and leading you into his bedroom.

Déjà vu.

You and Sam sat on his bed, not saying a word as you made yourself comfortable.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I will be,” You answered, turning to face him, “Just not feeling too hot right now.”

“Well you look it.”

Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to be so forward, “Really?”

“Yeah, 100%, always thought so.” Sam smiled cheekily, looking deep into your eyes.

“You’re drunk.” You laughed, shaking your head.

Sam returned the laugh, “Maybe, but I know what I’m saying is true.”

The adrenaline from your quickie with Colby still hadn’t worn off as you leaned in to kiss Sam. Luckily, you had read the room correctly and Sam instantly took your face in his hands as he kissed back. Sam was a gentle, loving kisser—he took his time to make sure you were enjoying it as much as him. You moved over to straddle either side of his legs, and continued your kiss in the comfort of his lap.

“God, you have no idea how you make me feel,” Sam murmured against your lips, pecking you carefully.

“Let me show you how you make me feel.” You replied, boldly, slowly moving down his body towards his crotch, “Can I?” You asked, politely.

“Fuck, yeah.”

As you removed Sam’s jeans and boxers, you watched as his obviously hard member sprung up and slapped against his torso. You took it in the small of your hand, slowly jerking his dick as you kitten licked the tip that was already leaking with pre-cum. Sam got comfortable on his bed as you lowered your mouth fully onto his dick.

Sam groaned out loud a slur of curses as you flicked your tongue on his cock as you sucked him. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue helping you amplify his pleasure. You sped up your movements, knowing this would be killing him, and he moaned out your name in ecstasy.

“Jesus, you’re such a good girl.” Sam mumbled, his one arm behind his head, his cheeks red and his eyes screwed shut.

You smirked on his member as you knew you were making him feel good. Strategically adding your hand to the base of his cock, you jerked the bottom off as you sucked the tip, helping him reach his finish.

Unlike Colby, Sam quickly finished as he grabbed your hair, gently, in his hands, pushing your head down as he spilled deep inside your throat, cursing and groaning as he did so. As you swallowed his seed, and pulled your mouth off his dick, you sat up and faced him.

You giggled as he let out a shaky breath, “Jesus, you’re unreal.” He sighed, smiling at you.

“You’re very welcome.”

Sam beckoned you over as he pulled you in for another kiss, his hand beginning to travel under your dress and to your still wet pussy. You moaned into his mouth as he began to rub small circles on your clit, making you buck your hips into his hand. You were on the verge of your third orgasm of the night, when the door opening followed by a voice caught your attention,

“Hey Sam, have you seen—“

Colby stood in the doorway, a shocked expression plastered on his face, “What the fuck?” He shouted, “I just fucked you and then you hop straight on his cock next?”

“What? You just fucked him?” Sam exclaimed, shocked.

Oh, fuck.

dude i’m gonna do a part 2 dw and it’ll be the best tag team of the century. hope you liked this! sorry i didn’t see it sooner!! xx

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strangelittlestories · 1 year

Text

It was in the 6th year of the Wars of the Real that the anti-magicians and their Realis project (that all should act in accordance with certain physical laws) were truly challenged. This was due in no small part due to a singular invention from a family of forest witches.

Their discovery was as ingenious as it was stupid. And it radically changed what a disparate collective was able to accomplish in the face of both overwhelming force and abstract certainty.

It also caused a truly historic amount of epic shitfuckery.

From “I Fought the Spore and the Spore Won: a history of Realis and Resistance”

- - -

“So, you’re the new recruit, huh?” The woman who spoke wore strange armour that looked like it had been grown out of wood. The helmet alone glinted with metal spikes.

“I … uh, I guess? Sorry, I’m kinda new to this whole ‘magical kingdom’ deal you’ve got going on here…” The recruit in question was wearing dull red overalls and a ‘what-the-fuck’ expression.

“No worries, kid. We put out a multiversal call for aid - so anybody with a latent magical destiny or a strong subconscious hero fantasy got pulled in. Very much a ‘To Whom It May Concern’ type of spell.”

She patted him on the shoulder. Up close he could see that the spikes on her helmet were actually the shards of a broken crown.

“So, uh, do I get any kind of training?”

“You already did, buddy. The spell should’ve planted a ‘potential seed’ inside you. When you’re exposed to trauma, then just in the nick of time it’ll suddenly sprout into the skills you need to survive. Very dramatic.” She paused for a second. “Or you’ll die. Also very dramatic.”

“So … either I’ll be awesome or I’ll die?”

“Well, you would die … unless you have one of these.” She threw him a small vial. He fumbled the catch, but grabbed it on the second try. Inside the vial swirled a glowing grey-green mist. “You catch a mortal wound, drink it. Or smash it on the injury. The fungus inside will patch you up.”

“Fungus?” The man was a pretty even split of horrified and fascinated. He simultaneously wanted to throw the vial away like poison, or guzzle it like forbidden candy.

“Yeah, you ever hear of ‘ophiocordyceps unilateralis’?”

“The weird zombie ant mushroom? Yeah, I saw it on a documentary!”

“Well, a family of witch-mycologists - real wyrd scientist types - they brewed up this variant in their forest. They turned it from a parasite to a symbiote. If it knows who you are, it’ll heal your wounds, get your heart pumping, even move your limbs for you.”

“How do I get it to know who I am?”

“You feed it.” She grinned ghoulishly. “Chuck in some hair, some blood, whatever bits of you are going spare. Anything to sync it up to your DNA. Think of it as your very own cannibal sourdough starter.”

“And people actually use this?”

“Oh yeah. Folks swear by the stuff. They even had an argument over what nickname it should have. The winner was the truly cursed phrase ‘resurrection juice’.”

“...really?”

“Oh yeah. The juice brigade are pretty smug it caught on. Some smart alec tried to give it a mushroom name, but they got one-upped by the juice thing.”

“I’m not sure I’m a fan of sharing my body with a fungus.” He tried to find the right words to articulate the niggling philosophical nuances of the idea and failed. “It feels like, I dunno, a bad idea?”

“Oh, it’s a terrible idea. A real crock of stupid. Pure idiot-fuel. But sometimes, when the world’s against you, the truly bad idea is the only one you have.”

“But, I mean, once the fungus takes over … would I still even be me?” The urge to gobble up the taboo canape had begun to be edged out by the existential dread.

“Look at it this way: you’d be mushroom food anyways, right? Why not let it be mushrooms who think they’re you? I think it’s kinda comforting that when the time comes, I can just relax and let fungus take the wheel.”

The man paused for a second, pondering the nature of life, decay, and resurrection.

“Anyways, they’ll be summoning the portal to pipe us out on our first mission soon. So best get ready.” The princess (for that’s what she was) thought for a second, then asked: “By the way … what did you do before you got sucked up into this particular asscrack, anyhow?”

The man gulped.

“I was a plumber.” He said.

#a long one but hopefully worth it #writing #flash fiction #I realised halfway through writing that this read like a grimdark mario bros fic and I just leant into that #still contains at least two puns for those keeping count

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jaegersdevil · 7 months

Text

bloodsucker [satoru gojo]

Vampire!Satoru x Human!Fem!Reader summary: a game of cat and mouse in the woods turns into a bloody mess warnings: 18+ / mdni!, afab, vampire activities, mediocre writing of sex in a forest, bloodplay, biting by both parties, satoru chases you through the woods because its fun, fear play perhaps, overstimulation, no use of y/n w/c: 2.1k a/n: happy start of spooky season! let me know if i missed any warnings! enjoy :) masterlist

Keeping quiet while running for your life isn’t as easy as the movies make it out. It’s coughing when there’s so much mucus in your throat that you can’t breathe, and the sobs you try so hard to keep inside that force their way out when you hear the footsteps behind you get closer. It’s the methodical dodging of broken sticks and rocks you’ve seen in the shows that ultimately get forgotten once you enter a stage of full panic and just run to survive, not caring that you’re leading them right to you.

But this isn’t a movie, and the thing chasing you is something you would consider much more terrifying than your usual killer with a mask and a knife.

A deep, throaty chuckle rings out much closer than is comfortable, and flashes of white hair and pale skin seem everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. It’s too dark, but you see a squirrel run up a tree in front of you, squealing in fear when you speed past, adrenaline keeping you from slowing down. Your ragged breathing is all that can be heard in the quiet forest, save for your feet crunching the layer of dead leaves so thick you can’t see the dirt.

You thought the idea was fun initially, but maybe that was just his influence over you. He has an incredible way of making dangerous, stupid things look enticing.

Your name is called from behind you, sung in a low tone, with a giggle cutting through the middle.

“You know this is futile – running, that is.”

Wiping your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand, you glance over your shoulder, the man you love and hate the most standing perfectly still a half mile back. The hem of your short sundress dances behind you, and the sight draws him closer.

“Give up, darling!” His honey, saccharine voice taunts you, echoing in your head. “You know how this ends!”

Shaking your head, you endure.

But, upon returning to face the direction you’re running, you smack head-first into a tree and fall to the ground, a yelp leaving your lips. At least, that’s what you thought you ran into.

His chest is so solid you think he was created by the earth itself, and perhaps he was — though somewhere much deeper and hotter than your usual whimsical fairytales.

“I win,” He laughs at you. Dread pulses through your veins, your depleting adrenaline already kicking back in.

“Satoru—” You start, breath catching in your throat when you see his hand swinging his glasses. Your eyes widen when you look up at him, his bright eyes and cocky smirk visible through the darkness. He is so beautiful you wonder how he’d gotten cursed with such a thing, a disease the people in town call it.

“Well, I think it’s time for my prize…” His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, his fangs catching on his bottom lip. Your eyes flicker to them: sharp, terrifying, and oh-so attractive when he puts on those eyes in conjunction. The soft but piercing gaze that settles on you now.

“Aw, are you crying?” He tilts his head and crouches, empty hand caressing your cheek. “S’okay, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Flinching away from his hand, you go to stand, only to be pushed down by his hand on your shoulder. “Did you or did you not agree to the rules?”

You stamper. “I–I know the rules, Satoru. I just think I should get a second chance. You always win.”

“Huh,” He hums, nodding in contemplation, though you know he won’t let you have one. “Not today, sweetheart. Sorry.”

You nod, eyes downcast as you sit forward. Your hand resting on his neck, you lean to peck his lips. “No need to be sorry.”

Satoru smiles into the kiss, his fangs nipping at your bottom lip. He was always engrossed once you had him, which, in this instance, allowed you to formulate a plan. It’s not a smart nor fully laid out idea, but it’s the best you could do with your little time. Not giving him a chance to retaliate, you get up and run as fast as you can.

You hear him sigh in annoyance, but Satoru remains in his spot on the ground. He calls your name, haunting and rich.

“I’ll always find you, you know,” He yells, getting up and walking in your direction. “There’s a reason why I found you in the first place.”

You don’t listen to his words, having already known, chest heaving and eyes wild as you hide behind a thick oak tree. Holding your breath and frozen in your place, you watch as Satoru stalks past you. Whether it’s on purpose or because he’s so blinded by lust, you don’t know. You just hope it’s the latter.

“Darling, please,” You can hear the desperation in his voice, though it’s plagued by desire and a little malevolence. “I’ll be good.”

Rolling your eyes at his last comment, you inch to the right slightly, peering around the tree to ensure he hadn’t done a loop. But your stomach drops when those same bright eyes are dead set on you.

“I think it’s only fair that we go inside now. I’m getting chilly.”

Your heart rate increases tenfold, and you curse your fear for making it so much easier for him to find you. With a twinge of confidence, you only get when teasing him, you round the tree and stand before him.

“You don’t get cold. You don’t have a heart, Toru. You don’t even have a heart with the ability to love! You told me yourself.”

His cackle and a slap to the knee was his only reaction to your statement.

“Oh, you are the most divine human ever, sweetheart,” Satoru laughs. “My love for you runs deeper than the mythical heart! You are my soul and my entire being, my beloved.”

You inhale sharply, palms sweating at his words. You’ve heard them a thousand times, having been attached to him for the past 3 years, but hearing those words from his lips in the dead of night in the darkest forest awakens something inside you.

Doubt flashes in your eyes, and suddenly, Satoru’s hands are all over your body, squeezing and stroking. “I’ll show you I love you in the only way I know how if you allow me to.”

You’re breathless when he kisses you, lips trailing down your neck to the one place he knows best. His tongue flattens against the column of your throat, savouring the taste of your skin, salty from the sweat and warm from running. He groans, words barely discernable as he inhales you. Your blood is the sweetest he’s ever tasted, the richest and the most intoxicating.

Satoru’s hands move down to your ass, and he lifts you effortlessly, pushing you against the oak tree. The sharpness of the bark digging into your back is nothing compared to the piercing of his fangs into your flesh. He lets out a satisfying whine, ravenous and restless.

“'Toru,” You throw your head back, your ankles locking behind his hips. The initial cry of pain dwindles to a broken moan, and you grasp at the collar of his black dress shirt. Every nerve ending inside your body alights, your blood rushing to the spot on your neck where your lover feeds.

When you tug at his hair, Satoru reluctantly slows his sucking of your red essence into his mouth. His plush lips are stained red, and his breathing is rapid when he slowly pulls his fangs out of your rubied skin like he wants to prolong his pleasure, groaning when he sees the mess. Blood drips down his chin, his teeth are stained red when he grins lazily, and you moan at the sight.

A broken laugh falls from his mouth, and his eyes dart to your slackened mouth. Satoru puts his hand on the back of your head, his fingers dancing in your hair, and pulls your face to his, locking his lips with yours. The metallic taste of your blood on your lips is suffocating yet erotic, and you can’t help but grind down on his crotch. Crimson colours your mouth and chin, and Satrou releases an animalistic growl deep in his throat.

Between sloppy kisses, your hands find the waistband of his black dress pants. His hips buck subconsciously while you pull his pants down along with his briefs, and Satoru whines before you even touch him. His pupils are wide, and if he could blush, you bet your life he would be flushed.

Satoru can't stop inhaling the scent of your blood, pheromones, and sweet arousal in your underwear. Overwhelmed and impatient, he pushes his fingers towards your entrance, shoving your underwear to the side. You gasp at the sudden intrusion and the cold air of midnight.

“Ready?” He mumbles, peering at you through his fair lashes. You nod and inhale sharply at the feeling of his tip on the back of your thigh. He runs his cock through your folds, saccharine wetness covering his length.

Pumping himself a few times, Satoru lines himself up and pushes into you. The burning sensation only lasts a moment before the pleasure of being stretched takes over.

Satoru’s jaw goes slack as your walls squeeze him, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. He’s barely holding himself back as he lifts you up and almost drops you back down onto his cock. You let out a choked moan, and your eyes roll to the back of your head, the wound on your neck tingling as it heals.

“Oh, fuck,” Satoru pants, leaning his head down to your other shoulder. As he thrusts into you, he drags his teeth along your skin, not sinking his fangs in just yet. The sound of your blood pumping rapidly beneath is like a drug he could get high off for eternity.

The sounds you make spur him, and Satoru bites down, smirking into your skin as you yelp. The poison entering you for a second time makes the sensation all the more intense, and you find yourself smiling in euphoria.

The forest is silent, the only noises being the slapping of skin on skin and wicked groans from the devil himself.

The end approaches fast, too fast, when you feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

“I’m– c–close,” Your speech is broken, but he understands. Satoru goes harder, using his inhuman strength to bounce you faster. Your legs ache, and your arms go limp on his shoulders as Satoru grunts.

“That’s my fucking girl…”

Your orgasm rips through you violently, and you clench around him, throwing your head back in pleasure. Seeing stars, your head lolls to the side, observing Satoru watch where you connect, jaw slack with a feral look in his eye.

As you pulse around him, Satoru can't keep his composure any longer. And when his hips stutter, a sign he’s close, you lean up and graze your teeth along his jaw, nipping and drawing blood when he sighs. You bite down harder on the skin of his neck when you feel a second orgasm unravel, overstimulated and sensitive.

The dull breaking of his flesh pushes him over the edge. “Oh, oh, gonna– fuck–”

When he cums, it feels like the first time; it always does when he’s inside you. Hot ribbons shoot inside you, painting you with the seed of sin. It drips down the inside of your thigh, and the taste of Satoru’s blood in your mouth mixed with yours as he kisses you is unearthly.

He pulls out of you but doesn’t drop you. When you lean back from his face, you look at each other’s necks and chins, giggling at the crimson aftermath.

“That’s so hot,” Satoru mumbles, licking the residue around your mouth and moving down to tongue at your neck. He meets your eyes again, tongue swiping across his lips. You tilt your head and admire him, lifting the hem of your dress to his face to wipe the deep red from his chin. He playfully bites at the material, smiling when you roll your eyes.

“Put me down,” You snicker, unhooking your ankles. Satoru does just that, lowering you to the forest floor but keeping his hands on your waist.

“Can you walk?” He asks. And though you’re sure he’s serious, you roll your eyes again and swat him on the bicep.

“You’re good but not that good, Toru.”

Satoru’s tongue runs over his front teeth, scoffing. “You wound me.”

You shrug and step, faltering when your thighs shake under your weight.

Noticing your pause, Satoru’s expression turns smug. “Damn, guess I am that good,” He winks, scooping you into his arms.

You use your forefinger to collect a drop of blood from the underside of his jaw and stick it into your mouth. “The best.”

Satoru's eyes zero in on your finger between your lips, and he shakes his head, swearing under his breath.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, human.”

#guysssssss .........#i KNOW its september but that will not stop me from writing this #satoru gojo smut #gojo smut #satoru smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo imagine #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #vampire!satoru #vampire au #— ann writes!

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suzukiblu · 6 months

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Day seven of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Kon zips up to Tim, puts the little clay goat in his hands with a quick "hold this," because he is clearly not aware of how the oils on people's hands can damage this kind of thing or concerned about how magic or cursed it may or may not be, and deals with the panicked thieves. Tim shakes the sleeves of his jacket down over his hands to hold the goat more carefully and watches attentively as Kon tosses them all into a pile and then ties them up with a combination of TTK and velvet divider ropes. Tim would not typically use velvet divider ropes as restraints, but imagines that choice probably works better with telekinetic reinforcement behind it.

Actually, it definitely does, because Kon just whapped Lisa upside the back of the head with a loose end of the heavy velvet divider rope when she started trying to squirm free.

"Ow!" she yells indignantly.

"How's that whole 'the idol will protect us!' thing going for you now?" Kon asks curiously.

"You don't know the shape of its blessing!" Mark snarls, attempting to kick him. The effort is futile and pathetic and also pretty stupid, since if he actually managed to hit Kon he'd probably just break his foot on him, but whatever, not Tim's problem.

"The shape of its blessing is a cute goat and a jail cell," Kon says.

"We should probably find a staff member to take this, on that note," Tim says, glancing around for one. There's got to be somebody. The guards are an option, he guesses, once Kon gets around to untying them. But he definitely should not still be holding this goat, even with his sleeves tucked over his hands and him being as careful as he reasonably can about it.

Seriously. Somewhere a museum curator is crying and doesn't even know why.

"Oh, sure," Kon says. The guards' restraints all simultaneously fall off. Unfortunately, none of them happen to be wearing gloves or have sleeves as long as Tim's, so that's going to be an issue.

"Thanks," Tim says anyway.

"Eh, it was nothing," Kon replies with a shrug. "Literally, this whole situation was nothing. Like, this situation was the opposite of a situation. Nothing even happened."

And then Tim just . . . has an idea, almost. Or at least the nucleus of one.

"You did save my life, actually," he points out, making his tone politely appreciative but also carefully casual.

"No offense, but I save a lot of people's lives, that doesn't really stick out in my day-to-day activities," Kon says.

"I don't know, it stuck out a bit for me," Tim says, and Kon laughs.

"Okay, fair," he says, flashing him a grin. "You're not actually hurt or anything, right? Eardrum didn't rupture when the gun went off?"

"Doubt it," Tim says. Frankly he's unspeakably lucky that it didn't, but Kon's TTK probably did block at least some of the sound.

He really didn't know Kon could use it like this, to be honest. Kon cracks out his TTK every chance he gets and brags the whole time he does, obviously, but Tim's never seen him manipulate it quite this way.

It occurs to him to wonder if that means it's a new trick, or if Kon just always wraps up hostages or threatened civilians in his aura like that and just never mentions it. It seems likelier it'd be a new trick, considering literally everything he knows about Kon and his desperate and unsubtle need for validation and attention, but Kon was so unshakeably confident in the move–and not in a brash or blustering way, but in an obvious, matter-of-fact certainty. Like he'd done it a thousand times and it hadn't failed him yet.

Tim should definitely figure out a way to follow up on that later.

"Cool," Kon says, then looks around the gallery again. Tim feels oddly bereft without his immediate focus.

Stupid, stupid inadvisable crush. Ugh. Bats don't want to be the center of anyone's attention unless they're deliberately drawing fire away from someone else. Tim definitely doesn't want to be the center of anyone's attention.

Except, apparently, for Kon's.

This incident report is going to be nothing but lies. Filthy, shameless lies.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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awyeahitssam · 1 month

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Based on the idea that Malfoy could not get the vanishing cabinet to work effectively, and decided to mention, instead, that Hogwarts was taking the Great Hall wards down for a six-fucking-week course on Apparation. This is what wouldn't happen. But it's where my mind went, first. Warning: Graphic Violence

A loud crack signified the first successful Apparition.

Harry’s eyes, closed in preparation for his own attempt, snapped open and his head turned. It wasn't a student standing at the other end of the Great Hall, though. Harry jolted for his wand as other students began to turn to the cloaked figure, but before he could take aim there were four more sharp cracks.

Dark-robed, masked Death Eater’s were apparating directly into the Great Hall, the only place the castle wards were down for Hogwarts students to learn how to do the same.

Bellatrix LeStrange was the first to appear sans mask, having no need for discretion. She took in the scene with a cackle, batting away Harry’s immediate curse effortlessly as she cooed, “Aww, look at the wittle student's trying to learn!”

In his periphery Harry saw Neville lift his own wand, and they cast simultaneously. This time, Bellatrix twisted out of the way. “Do the wittle babies wanna play?”

“Sectumsempra,” Harry hissed with malice, fully aware of the spell's effects, now. Bellatrix’s eyes widened a bit even as she turned out of the way, quick as a dancer. The Death Eater behind her fell to their knees as their body was pulled apart by deep, horrible gashes.

More cracks sounded; Harry began to send out indiscriminate stunners, hoping to catch the intruders before they realised they were being cast at. They all came prepared for battle to have begun, shield charms springing around them immediately.

“Bombarda!” Ron called grimly.

“Expulso!” shouted Neville.

“Protego Maxima,” murmured Hermione. “Accio Susan Bones. Protego. Stupefy—students to the teacher's entrance!”

The frozen bodies of some of their yearmates seemed to jolt, realisation settling. Many students turned tail and ran.

Susan Bones, having narrowly been pulled out of the way of a powerful cutting curse that had gouged into stone walls by Hermione, was casting stunners, petrification hexes, and disarming charms. Harry was not nearly so restrained, once he realised the stunners were ineffective. Sectumsempra broke through shields like a battering drill and Death Eaters were falling, ripped apart by his fury. Curses flew from Harry's wand as fast as he could think of them: conjunctivitis, blasting, jelly-fingers, reductors, even slug-vomiting. He conjured six venomous snakes that shot off without instruction, knowing his will. Yet again and again, Harry came back to the Half-Blood Prince’s spell, the most devastatingly effective of them all. People were dying from its effectiveness, but Harry didn’t care, because they had dared step foot in Hogwarts—

A horrible pressure was building in Harry’s head as half the hall emptied. A wand prodded Harry’s spine, and he stilled, shaking with rage and adrenaline. “Call—call off the snakes, Potter,” a somewhat familiar voice demanded shakily.

“I’d rather they bite your father, Nott,” said Harry coldly. “Drop your wand before I have to make you regret it.”

The wand trembled, for a moment, against his spine. “C-Cruci—”

Harry drove his elbow back, hard, and slammed down one foot on Nott's. The taller boy stumbled back in pain, and it was no great difficulty to stun him. He hit the floor, hard, and Malfoy’s grey eyes were large and frightened as he stared at Harry, still as prey.

At once, Harry realised what he had done “You,” he said, scar pulsing horribly. “You did this. You brought war to a school filled with literal children, you stupid, useless brat. You're scared of what Voldemort will do to you? Just wait, Malfoy. His punishment would be bliss compared to what you deserve for this.”

“Such a temper, Harry Potter,” came Lord Voldemort’s cold voice. He had made no sound as he apparated, not like his followers, but Harry’s viciously prickling scar had made his imminent arrival clear. “You have done well, Draco. You will be… rewarded.”

Malfoy’s eyes darted in fright from Harry to the Dark Lord, and Voldemort was barely in time to hiss “Stop,” to the snake that had snuck up on the boy.

“You don't obey him,” Harry hissed, “you’re mine. Do what you’re made for, dear one.”

Draco turned just in time to see the snake strike out at his neck. It vanished before its fangs could load the boy with venom, and Harry turned his hateful scowl to Voldemort, who’s gaze already rested upon him, intent, heavy and fascinated.

“Deal with it, Hermione,” he snapped.

“Harry—” came Hermione’s warning voice, but Harry couldn’t listen, had to dodge out of the way of Voldemort’s spell. The Dark Lord tilted his head, stare thoughtful, and then turned his yew wand… away.

Harry watched him with a wariness not misplaced: Romilda Vane, nearly out of the Great Hall via the Professor’s entrance, fell to the cruciatus curse with a cry of pain.

“Drop your wands, children,” the Dark Lord said, red eyes still locked on Harry as his soft, cold voice echoed through all corners of the room, carried by wandless magic.

Harry grit his teeth at the seeming opportunity, well aware of Voldemort's objective. And yet, truly, he could not have picked a worse target to try and bring Harry under his control than the girl who had nearly raped him. He cast a wordless sonorous on himself to refute the order: “Don't give an inch. There are First Years in these walls. Do to them what you would to Umbridge. They're twice her threat. Any student who raised a wand to help Voldemort’s sect will be treated as hostile. See how I handle my enemies, Goyle, and ask yourself if that cheap shot is worth your life.”

Even as he spoke, Harry turned from Voldemort, dismissive, and focused on thinning the herd. Thirteen Death Eater’s still stood, including Bellatrix, who was engaged with Neville and Ron. Harry used every spell that came to his mind, even those from the Half-Blood Prince’s book he had not tested before. One man was effectively eviscerated, much to Harry’s disgust. He only used that spell once.

When he saw one of his snakes change course he pulled the magic from them, an effective banishment, cold eyes finding Voldemort again. He had not heard the man speak parseltongue, and indeed he was still holding the crucio, face twisted strangely as he watched Harry.

“My, my,” said Voldemort, immediate once he had regained Harry’s attention, two more of his people fallen, “so vicious, little snake. Does Dumbledore know you have venom?”

“I don't give a fuck what he knows,” Harry said harshly. “This is a school.” This is my home. “Focus on the bloody Ministry, and leave children out of it.”

Voldemort had the gall to laugh, high and cold. “This is not merely a school, Harry Potter,” he said. “There is a reason you children stand your ground and fight. This is where Dumbledore trains his small, young army to go to war and die, as their parents did before them.”

Wrath bubbles in Harry, heavy and explosive, and he must look as unhinged and inhuman as the man watching him as he cages it behind his teeth. He flicks a shield charm around Bones and Abbott before a reductor hits, and a disarming charm hits the perpetrators back. He breaks the dark-wooded wand into two pieces the moment he catches it.

“You truly think Dumbledore has taught us anything? Even my ‘private lessons’ with the man are just memories of your life, as if I care that you got away with murder when you were still sixteen.” Hermione pulls Vane’s still writhing body from the room, and Voldemort’s cruciatus ends, but he does not seem to notice or care, eyes locked on Harry. “The only reason I fight is because I do not believe in the world you are trying to create. Because you say things like ‘magic is night' and still try to subjugate witches and wizards, as if the fresh magic in their veins is poisoned by the muggles they're born to. I defy you, Lord Voldemort, because you decided your best course was killing a baby over a half-heard prophecy, and still try to kill me to this day. I am not going to stand here and let you. I don't believe ‘magic is might’. I've already killed many of your people tonight… but that—that wasn’t over ideology. That is because I will kill as many as it takes to keep your grasping, greedy fucking hands out of my school.”

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svgvru · 6 months

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. . . more biblically accurate gojo rambles! "i'm in love with a little blue frog."

𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 . . . he loves teasing you with them. he's always been insecure about them. his parents would never directly degrade him, but he could tell. they didn't like the way he looked. i mean—who would? three sets of eyes was not normal by any means, it was confusing for his parents considering he had curse-like features. my, my, the drama that occured. regardless, he never made friends. his face, paired with his immense power, made it nearly impossible for anyone to like him—truly like him. so he hid his face as best he could. bandanas, glasses, his hair, anything he could do to hide them.

and then he joined this choatic team which was led by yaga. suguru, you, him, and shoko. an unstoppable squad of the best new generation sorcerers. he was skeptical, then he got comfortable.

hed play with his glasses and accidentally flick them off his face, his bottom pair if eyes would squint at the sudden exposure to light as he searched for his glasses. he only paused when he realized the three of you were staring at him. specifically, his eyes. "ah shit—!" satoru desperately searched for his glasses before you calmly handed them to him. "you didn't see anything!" satoru huffs and crosses his arms, worried he's lost his first and only friends. the silence was deafening, more like, anxiety inducing for satoru—until you spoke.

"you're so pretty, 'toru!" you comment and smile. huh? did his crush just call him pretty? with a gasp from shoko and suguru simultaneously, they both leap and ask. "wait—do you actually have six eyes?" satoru's surprised at your interest, taking a step back.

"can we see?"

"that's fucking cool!"

"they look like baby eyes, awww, oh my god!"

"why didn't we notice this before??"

"wait . . . THAT'S WHY YOUVE BEEN SO BITCHY OVER YOUR STUPID SUNGLASSES?" suguru shouts, his eye twitching as he recalls all of satoru's bitchiness over touching his glasses. "huh? yea . . . wait—y'all aren't weirded out?" you frown. "no?" you sound offended as you answer. "they look fucking cool, move your hair." you stand up and smile, pushing up his fluffy pale hair to see his whole face. "you're so pretty . . . " you mumble, locking eyes with his big set and smile.

ever since then, gojo's been getting quite comfortable not hiding himself (utahime and nanami almost ruined it though). maybe even perhaps too comfortable?

when he finally snagged your heart, you'd go on dates and occasionally sleep in eachother's rooms. the bad thing about that, is satoru is a living nightlight. if he doesn't go to sleep before you, there's six blue beams shining either in your face—or the back of your head. its mostly to annoy you, but—sometimes he just likes looking at you. one thing he does do constantly to irritate you? is manipulate the way his eyes move.

once he gained full control . . . it was over. one thing he does, is frog blink. he mostly does it to catch you off gaurd or distract you. for example, if you're in an argument . . . he will purposefully make his eyes blink at different times to throw you off. and it works, a lot. sometimes you laugh, sometimes you just get really confused, but eitherway your reaction is funny and there's no longer an argument!

it is really adorable when he cries though. his little eyes close in cresents and under them are bright red. they make smaller tears that join up with the big tears . . . and awwww. it was even cuter when he was a baby! tears rolling down his chubby with that cute little baby pout.

don't even get me started if the two of you are able to have a biological child! if his baby has his six little blue eyes? he'll cry—for a multitude of reasons . . .

number one: they look just like they're daddy!

number two: they might have to face what they're daddy went through.

and number three: those six-eyes on a baby look so cute!

because of his upbringing, he will never—and i mean never, fail to shower his kid with love. on their first day of kindergarten he kissed every single eye like you did for him and sent them off with an "daddy love's you." even if non-sorcerers can't see it, when they gets older . . . others will be able to see them. so he drenches them in love, gives them tips to maintain each eye, tells them how to hide them if they really want to. he's literally such a great dad, you love him sm.

bc ppl wanted more, i gave them more! tell me if you want more scenarios with six-eyes gojo or anything like that!

#𝗙𝗟𝗨𝗙𝗙 ꒰ JJK ꒱#GENDER NUETRAL READER #DAD GOJO #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen

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danibee33 · 5 months

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Part II of undercover!Ghost🩶

{Part I}

cw: nsfw at the end, no explicit smut, just Ghost on his knees for reader (he’s a giver what can i say)

++++

• You still don’t, or can’t, open your eyes- even when Ghost tilts your chin up and you can see the dim light shining behind your eyelids. Call it spite or possibly just a deeply rooted indignation that you’ve always possessed according to your father, but we won’t get into that now.

• But you just couldn’t. For the first time, you had no intention of giving him exactly what he wanted-

• “Why now?” You ask, pulling his hands away from your face. And you’re sure you look so silly, a grown woman refusing to just open her eyes and look at the face that’s plagued your thoughts ceaselessly; but he.. is just so fucking frustrating.

• You try to turn away but that only spurns him on, wrapping his hand around your elbow- you find yourself pressed against the door, a small grunt parting your lips, one he’s more than happy to swallow in a kiss.

• And it’s far too easy to melt into him again, let his hands touch you in ways you hadn’t let anyone touch you before-

• “No, no. Don’t- do that.”, you grind out the words, pushing him back once again, or well, trying to. You’re strong, but it doesn’t do much to the solid fucking wall of muscle that doesn’t want or care to move,

• “We’re not doing this. You do not get to treat me like I barely exist and then change your mind all of a sudden when you see me in a tight dress and heels-“, you shake your head as you continue, “you don’t want me.. you want this.”

• Internally, you’re bashing your head against the wall, because why the fuck can’t you stop talking?! He’s just a guy! A man- a very tall, inhumanly strong, muscular man, who looks at you like a little gnat he can’t quite get rid of.. but has been kissing you and holding you like you meant something to him. Like this wasn’t the first time he had thought about a moment like this-

• “And that would be fine.. if you weren’t.. fucking, ugh! You!”

• Your face is clasped between his hands again, thick fingers threading through your hair, and his voice calm and low- which simultaneously soothes your nerves and lights them on fire all at once, “You’re insufferable- the way you talk to us, the way you look at us, the way you just fuckin’ walked in and managed to worm your way under everyone’s skin-“

• He watches your eyebrows knit together in confusion and anger, you’re holding back so much, he can practically feel the potential energy radiating all around you- yours and his mixing together into something deliciously volatile,

•“Your existence is probably the only goddamn thing I can’t ignore, Hel.”

• Your face softens in a way he couldn’t have predicted, in a way that causes his chest to tighten and his breath to come a little shorter.

• “You do so much for us.. just because you want to, because you like seein’ people you care for happy. You don’t make any sense to me-“

• You hang on to his every word, to the rasp in his accent, and the way he holds you,

• “People aren’t just kind without wanting somethin’ in return. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out what you want.”

• Without thought, your eyes shoot open, a whole argument just waiting at the tip of your tongue-

• He thinks you want something from them? From him? That you were only kind to the Captain, and Gaz, and Soap because you wanted something in return? What you really wanted in this moment is to shake his big, stupid shoulders, and ask him how for someone so smart and perceptive, he could be such a raging idiot-

• But you do none of those things.

• No, instead of screaming or pushing him away, cursing him out, giving him a whole piece of your mind- you stand there, speechless and wide eyed because there he was. Lieutenant Simon Riley.

• You remember thinking at one time that he must be hideous or grotesque, something to match his boorish personality- but quickly swept the idea to the side. It was childish, and you had been angry with him, you’re sure. You know Soap and the others had seen his face before, but they never gave you even a crumb of detail- so, you’re mind filled in all the gaps, constructing a face around the deep amber eyes.

• And now, all of that work.. is useless. Because he’s everything you thought he might be, and nothing like it, at the same time. His brows are a bit darker than his hair, not too thick, but enough to balance the bit of scruff that covers his lower cheeks and jaw line- scars cut this way and that, some thick, others smaller, neater. One cuts right through his bottom lip, deforming it slightly- and another, deeper one across the bridge of his nose, which looks just a bit off, broken and reset incorrectly, you assume.

• He’s handsome, not in a movie star or even conventional way- but more than that, you think. Maybe it has to do with his flaws, has to do with the soft angles of his features, harsh only because of the way he’s used to constantly wearing a slight grimace.

• You reach up, leaning into him fully as you pull his lips against yours- something odd and warm burning through you, making your head spin when he reciprocates the kiss with no hesitation. If anything, it feels all the more frenzied now, like he had half expected you to run out of the room the moment you saw his face.

• “I don’t want anything from you, you fucking idiot.” You breathe out, the words and your voice mixing with the soft sounds of your tongues and mouths searching for more, your bodies yearning for more.

• Which is how you end up across the room, sat atop the beautiful, vintage oak desk, your dress hiked up around waist, watching the formidable Ghost take a knee in front of you, “Fuckin’ hell.. are you tryin’ to kill me?”

• “Don’t give me those eyes. You can’t wear underwear in a dress like this, I didn’t do it for you..”

• His eyes are inky and half lidded as he looks up, asking permission, begging for it without a single word.

• You try to shift forward, searching for friction but finding none against the smooth surface under you- only feeling the terrible dampness that’s made your thighs sticky. And all it takes is a breathy little whimper from you, his name whispered on your lips for him to move.

• He has your thigh settled over his shoulder and his face buried between your legs before the small yelp can escape- one hand smacking over your mouth and the other immediately grabbing his hair, “Jesus, Ghost- ah- fuck.”

• You hear and feel him breathe you in before a deep growl reverberates through his chest, wrapping a big hand over the thigh on his shoulder, and pushing the other open farther- another quiet groan leaving him when he finally sees what a mess you are.

• The first long stripe he makes with his tongue feels like a warning, the wet heat of him lapping at you has your cunt clenching vainly around nothing, an ache you’re not sure you had ever felt blooming deeper than you thought you possible.

• With that one taste, you’re suddenly jerked forward, your ass coming to rest right at the very edge- it forces you to prop one hand out behind you now, shakily leaning your weight into it as he begins to devour you.

• Which there’s no better word for it, he licks and nips, alternating between savoring you, eyes darting up to watch your head loll back and your chest heave before he suckles harshly at your clit- your poor little bundle of nerves already puffy and swollen, overly sensitive to his ministrations-

• “Oh, god- Simon, wait- wait-“ you swear you had only just begun to feel the pressure spooling low in your tummy before it implodes suddenly and violently.

• The radiating pleasure causes your legs to tremble and your breaths to come out as little more than pathetic pants- your fingers clutching at a handful of his hair so hard you’re surprised you hadn’t pulled it out by now.

• But he doesn’t seem to mind, his tongue still totally fixated on your weeping cunt, but instead of working feverishly, he’s back to lapping up your juices- humming into your center as he rubs his palm back and forth over the goosepimpled skin of your thigh. It’s a myriad of sensations, all of them lulling you even further the warmth of your high-

• “Been awhile, sweet girl? Or are you that responsive for everyone?” Ghost chuckles, flattening his tongue over your folds one more time before tearing himself away, unabashedly admiring his handiwork.

• You really do try to give your best glare when you manage to summon enough energy to look down at him, but it melts away at the sight of his lips pulled into a boyish grin, glistening and flushed a deep shade of pink. That’s how you watch him kiss your inner thigh, his eyes steady on yours even when he pauses to leave a little mark behind.

• “Very funny..” You bite back, a crimson blush coloring your neck and cheeks at the idea of telling him the truth-

• Thankfully, he doesn’t give time to dwell on it, standing to his full height, he gently lifts you off the desk- holding you close as he readjusts your gown to cover your lower half, though the fabric does little to fix the uncomfortable wetness that only seems to be growing.

• And the kiss he gives you afterward certainly does absolutely nothing to quell your arousal- because it’s slow and wonderful and you can’t help but to whimper at the taste of your own musk on his tongue,

• “C’mon, love.” He sweetly urges, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip before taking your hand, “before they send the whole bloody Calvary to get us.”

• You replace your ear piece with shaky fingers, thoroughly thrown off your game and glad to be going back to base- a bit of distance could do you both some good, couldn’t it? Though, he doesn’t seem to have the same sentiment, holding you closer than before until you step out into the courtyard- where you both know Johnny is still perched somewhere high above.

• “Bleedin’ Jesus, about damn time- boss is right pissed with ye for going dark like that.” Soap’s voice through comms gives you something to anchor yourself to, aside from Ghost’s lingering touch.

• He heckles you for a while longer, up until you’re in climbing into the back seat, settling yourself as much as you could- forever grateful for the darkness that envelopes you both.

• And as much as you want to stay away from him, give him space- you still find your head leaned against his broad shoulder, reveling in his immense size and warmth,

• “You did so good, Hel.”

• “Hm.. You weren’t so bad yourself, Ghost.”

+++++ bonus scene 🫢 ++++++

• Ghost had walked with you back to your rooms, not entirely unaware of the turmoil that had bloomed in your mind and refused to leave. He knew you were being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal, and he had wanted to say something, he wanted you to invite him inside, he wanted, wanted to talk to you, wanted something more than the quiet you were giving him- though he would gladly take whatever you gave him at this point.

• But, that’s not what happened. You only looked up at him with those big, bright eyes- and apologized.

• He tried to ask you why you would ever be sorry, tried to ask what you were sorry for, because he would be lying if he didn’t feel some pang of insecurity- but this wasn’t about him, and he was wise enough to see that.

• So, he let you plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, let you close the door before tugging the balaclava he had been clinging to and stalking off down the hall.

• “Simon! Hey.. where’s our lil’ LT?” Johnny had stuck his head out of the lounge doorway, a bag of crisps in hand.

• All Ghost could do is shrug, backpedaling to follow after Soap, and snagging a beer from the fridge,

• “In her room. Any news about the phone?”

• They go back and forth for while, though somehow, the conversation keeps circling back to you.

• “She’s a good one..” Johnny says between sips of beer, “Y’know what she told me one time? It was that night we all went out!” He claps a big hand down on Simon’s knee, his laughter loud and full of fondness over the memory- “We were right pissed, eh?”

• Yes, Ghost remembers that night, remembers watching you and Johnny play pool against Price and Garrick- even when you lost, you had the biggest smile on your face as you bought everyone a round.

• He remembers how you tried to help Soap up to the lounge, but you both ended up on the floor in a fit of annoying giggles-

• “I asked her, why she never went on dates, never brought a guy around- not even friends. And she said she’s never had a relationship, never been with a man, never been with anyone.”

• Ghost thinks in that moment it would be better if Johnny had just shot him point blank in the chest with how tightly his lungs contract, his grip on the near empty amber bottle growing so tight he thought he could hear the glass want to give under the pressure.

• Soap is none the wiser to his friend’s downward spiral, still chattering in that lighthearted way of his,

• “Said she never had time for it! Can ye believe that shite? Maybe I should be more like her- might not still be a sergeant if I were..”

• He goes on, but the words fade away, lost in the sound of blood rushing through Simon’s ears.

• You were right, he is a fucking idiot.

++++

>>> [part iii]

OHHH NO. If it isn’t the consequences of my own actions🥲

I’m already thinking about part 3. But, hey! Thank you for supporting my insatiable brain worm, this fandom is my home away from home at this point. ♥️

and @ajadell, your comment was all I needed to keep this going 🫶🏻🫶🏻

(Inspired by this song)

#call of duty #cod fandom #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x reader #badass female characters #falling for oblivious men #i’m down so fucking bad #bee writes #Spotify

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fizzingwizard · 2 months

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my curse: "Gee I wonder what my old buddy Nightcrawler's up to in 2024? hmm let's check around and see -"

"... why did i look why did i look why"

Seriously why does Marvel do this? I won't deny that Nightcrawler fans like to joke about the tail thing. For the kinkier ones, it's maybe not as much of a joke too. (But - it still is. Y'all know that right. Real people don't have tails. Anyway, you're welcome to make fun of this, as long as I eventually see some dudebro extra show up and ICly ask Colossus about his giant metal wang.)

Women hitting on Nightcrawler and being overtly sexual towards him in a way that would be pretty creepy IRL isn't a new thing in the comics. It's weird, but even though it reads as creepy, it's intended to show that despite looking like a gargoyle, Nightcrawler is hot and can attract girls and is totally an authentic superhero. It's complimentary creepiness 9_9 I don't take issue with that because that is superhero comics, everyone is horny all the time, and attraction is inexplicable. Basically it boils down to "I've got lips/ And I've got lips/ Let's get together and use those lips"

However. In the Draco, we got Jubilee, who was like 18 at the time, complimenting a naked and extremely distressed Nightcrawler on his, uh, junk. His reaction amounted to "..." Then a couple years ago, we got a... demonically possessed?? Illyana - whose age is a fucking mystery, she's not a teen anymore, probably Kitty's age, but anyway she's young - hitting on Nightcrawler as well. Once again he's brilliantly "..." about it. And now we've got this girl. I don't know how old she's meant to be, but she's written to sound like a young chatterbox - while being blonde and buxom and dressed like a Hooters waitress. "OH EM GEE" she spells out vocally??? Then exoticizes him, then asks him sexual questions???

There's definitely a way to comment on the invasiveness of fans who feel entitled to any detail no matter how personal about someone famous. But must it be through teenage girls you purposely drew to be hot and stupid? And I'm being generous by even suggesting that's what the intent here is. I think it's way more likely this is just another version of the "complimentary creepiness" shtick, only made more awful by the like twenty year age gap (I guess Crawler was aged down with everyone else but come on do any of us feel that's real in any sense). You get to lust after this girl while hating her simultaneously for being everything wrong with young women. Who is this for? They can't imagine it's for Nightcrawler's female fans. They can't be that obtuse. It's obviously for the boys.

So then the question is, what is there for the female fans? Because having female fans is kind of something Nightcrawler's known for. And any time something happens to a character - or a story - that the bros don't like, they blame the change on pandering to female fans. On feminism. On reverse sexism. But please someone sit down and explain to me how it's pandering to us female fans to write our favorite character like a tongue-tied himbo ("uh... um... uh..." wow crawler you smooth criminal! it's really obvious you've been a grown ass man since the 70s) while simultaneously insulting our entire gender as vapid nymphos?? Several times???

gosh. next time please just let crawler react by saying "sister you've got boundary issues and should be hitting on someone your own age goodbye." honestly this shit wasn't even cute when Claremont did it and he gets a pass on everything

#xmen #nightcrawler

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thatfandomslut · 5 months

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YOU'RE THE ONE

PJ x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Trigger Warnings: smut!!! MINORS DNI. oral (both receiving), fingering (pj receiving), nipple play (both receiving)

Synopsis: PJ has finally done it, she's met the girl of her dreams. However, as the night gets closer to its close, PJ and her girlfriend decide to take their relationship to another level.

"Fuck," PJ cursed as she watched Peach's cart pass her Daisy cart. Mario Kart was often something that got the dirty blonde heated. It only made her girlfriend smirk and laugh as she would once again beat her to the finish line at the last moment. It was (Y/n)'s secret talent that PJ could've done without knowing as she had never beat (Y/n) at a game of Mario Kart during their four months of dating. "I really don't understand how you keep doing that. You have to be cheating. Do you just save that stupid red shell for the finish line each time?"

(Y/n) put her controller down, turning to see the pout on PJ's face. Smiling a bit, she leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her girlfriend's lips. "Don't be such a sore loser, babe." She smirked a bit more, pulling away as PJ let her head fall backward from the teasing kiss that was just shared. "Besides, it's my best skill but I only have one person I can show off to, so you will just have to suck it up." (Y/n) said simply, patting PJ's thigh as she stood up to go get them some water while PJ revived her heart from the kiss. Coming back, she set their drinks on coasters, lifting the controller as if to ask if PJ wanted to continue.

PJ shook her head, exhausted from five full games of losing. Accepting the water gratefully, she took a drink of it. "What should we do now then?" PJ asked as she watched (Y/n) shut off the Wii and TV. She couldn't help her eyes from traveling the length of her girlfriend's body, a soft smile adorning her features as she admired the girl. Her eyes made their way back up, meeting (Y/n)'s as they clashed together in a heated make-out quickly after. It usually happened like that. They would make eye contact, and it was like their bodies couldn't help but meet in the middle, closing the gap between them.

(Y/n) felt her chest growing warm as that familiar feeling made its way through her body. PJ felt the same, quickly pulling away. Their breathing was heaving, mingling together as they stared at each other. "Are you okay, babe?" (Y/n) whispered, a hand moving to PJ's cheek, making note of her lips that were starting to swell from their rough kiss. Sometimes, they don't realize how rough they have been, instead, they just stare at each other's swollen lips, still lost in themselves and each other.

PJ felt her breath momentarily hitch at the question. Her eyes flickered onto (Y/n) lips back to her eyes as she cleared her throat. "Yeah, yes, I'm okay. I just knew if we didn't stop, I would get really..." Horny. How was she supposed to talk to her girlfriend about this? It shouldn't have been a difficult conversation, after all; they had been dating for a while and had talked and joked about topics like this. Why was it so difficult now? Maybe because this was the closest they've been to actually go further from making out. PJ could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as she looked for the explanation she needed at that moment.

(Y/n) other hand took PJ's for a silent moment. She needed to gather her thoughts from her foggy mind in order to properly respond. "I understand, PJ. I get that way when we kiss like that, too. I... I want you to know that whenever you feel ready to go further, I'm ready, too. I trust you, and I love you. You are my safe space." (Y/n) finished, happy to finally admit that she felt the same things that PJ felt. There was a simultaneous feeling of relief shared between the two as they looked at each other.

PJ smiled at (Y/n) for a long moment before leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to her forward. Her heart was beating quickly and loud in her ears and didn't stop after she had leaned back to look at her once more. "I feel the same. I love you, too, and I'm also ready." PJ regretted thinking of sex as something that needed to be done as soon as possible. She was happy she waited and that her and Brittany weren't compatible. She felt lucky and excited to say that (Y/n) was the person she would be committing herself to. She has never loved anyone like she did (Y/n). Not even Brittany.

PJ and (Y/n) leaned in slowly before they kissed again. But it felt different. There was the same passion they always had only the kiss felt different. PJ gently pulled (Y/n) over to her on the couch, and (Y/n) caught onto the idea PJ had easily. Straddling her lap, (Y/n)'s fingers made their way into PJ's hair, deepening the kiss. PJ's hands slipped into (Y/n)'s shirt, but relaxed on her hips, not wanting to push forward until (Y/n) said it was okay. PJ felt her girlfriend softly grind upon her lap causing her to moan in their kiss as she felt herself grow wet and resisted the urge of her thighs tightening together.

(Y/n) was the one to pull away, feeling herself grow needy. "PJ, let's go to my room." She suggested, kissing PJ's jawline softly. PJ shuddered under the touch, biting her lip as her eyebrows creased together. Her mind was foggy, but her thoughts were clear. "Okay, I'll follow you're lead," PJ responded as she felt (Y/n) remove herself from her lap. She instantly missed her girlfriend's position on top of her, but knew she wouldn't have to wait long to gain that warmth again. PJ followed her to the bedroom, smiling at (Y/n) as they surged forward, kissing again. This time, PJ did step up, removing (Y/n)'s shirt, (Y/n) following the action.

Their kisses were heated as (Y/n) felt her knees buckle as the back of them hit her bed. Sitting down, she quickly made herself busy with PJ's pants button as PJ ran her fingers through (Y/n)'s hair. PJ only removed her fingers to help remove her jeans, her knee moving in between (Y/n)'s thigh, causing (Y/n)'s breath to catch in her throat. "Is this okay?" PJ whispered, cupping (Y/n)'s face as she checked on her. She didn't want to proceed unless (Y/n) was okay and still wanted to take this next step with her.

An appreciative smile made its way to (Y/n)'s lips. "I'm okay, and I'm sure that this is what I want to do." She cupped PJ's hands, closing her eyes as she breathed in at the touch. She loved the way PJ's hands held her. Opening her eyes, she looked up at PJ. "What about you, PJ? Are you okay, and are you still feeling sure?" (Y/n) questioned gently. She felt like it was important to hear PJ say she was sure, just like it was important to PJ prior. Having mutual, verbal consent was the only way either of them would proceed.

PJ leaned down, kissing (Y/n) deeply. "I am so sure," she said, smiling against (Y/n)'s lips.

PJ gently pushed (Y/n) back onto the bed and onto the pillows behind her. Her knee moving back in between (Y/n)'s thighs once more caused a quiet moan to escape her throat. PJ smiled at this as she removed (Y/n)'s jeans and they connected their lips again. PJ's hands twitched slightly over (Y/n)'s breasts before she pulled away, kissing up (Y/n)'s jawline to her ear so she could whisper. "Can I take off your bra?" PJ asked softly, wanting to make sure every step was taken with consent. "And can you take off mine?" She added with a playful smile, kissing back down (Y/n)'s jaw to her neck, finding her pulse point easily.

A moan escaped (Y/n) as she gripped PJ's shoulder at the sudden finding of her pulse point. "Yes, please. Take off everything I have left. I just need you." She bit her lip, as her fingers tiptoed down PJ's back, unclasping the bra and tossing it to their mixed pile of clothes. The action pleased PJ as she allowed her hands to move up (Y/n)'s waist, removing (Y/n)'s bra as well. Then, in an almost swift, with a healthy mix of clumsy, moves, she removed (Y/n)'s underwear and then her own. Both now lying together naked. They were under the chill of (Y/n)'s fan that she never turned off, and yet, they felt warm against each other's skin. "You are so fucking beautiful, PJ." (Y/n) whispered as her hands went to cup PJ's breasts, her thumbs sliding over PJ's hardened nipples.

PJ moaned, her head gently falling, letting their foreheads rest together as her eyes fluttered close momentarily. "You're so beautiful, too. I am so fucking lucky to have someone like you in my life." She said, forcing herself to speak clearly under (Y/n)'s touch. The moment of focus didn't last long as (Y/n) pinched her nipples gently, causing her back to arch. In one fluid motion, (Y/n) took the opportunity to connect her lips to PJ's boob, gently taking the nipple between her teeth and sucking. PJ felt overwhelmed by pleasure, and she silently swore that she could orgasm just from that. "Fuck, (Y/n), don't stop," she cried out in pleasure. Her hands find (Y/n)'s breasts, hoping to bring her the same pleasure.

Without detaching her lips from PJ's boob, she moaned. PJ's hand exploring her body further, her thumb landing and massaging her clit, however; did cause her to let go, her head falling back to the pillow. PJ almost smirked at the way she was causing (Y/n) to come undone with just a touch until she remembered that (Y/n) was doing the same thing to her. "Oh my fucking, God, PJ," (Y/n) praised as PJ began to kiss down her body. Love bites scattered along (Y/n)'s body as PJ led a trail down (Y/n)'s body. "Please, PJ, make love to me," (Y/n) knew PJ needed this confirmation to do further action. And just like that, PJ was encouraged and began eating her girlfriend out.

(Y/n) felt ethereal in that moment, like she wasn't in her own body. Her eyes rolled back as PJ fucked her with her tongue. Nothing could beat this feeling. Or at least she thought until pressure was added to her clit again as PJ continued to eat her out. Her hands scrambled for something to hold. PJ moved her free hand to take one of (Y/n)'s sensing the need (Y/n) had as she felt (Y/n)'s other hand push back PJ's hair that was annoyingly falling in her face. She felt relieved, too, that (Y/n) kept her hand there, fingers tangled within her curls. It helped her focus on the taste of her girlfriend, loving the way she squirmed as she made love to her.

(Y/n)'s mind clouded over as she felt herself grow close. It took her a couple of seconds to find her words within the moans spilling from her lips. The same moans that caused PJ to quicken her pace. "PJ, don't stop, I'm going to cum." She said, her chest heaving. PJ did what she was told, not stopping as (Y/n) grip on her hand and hair tightened, but it wasn't painful. As (Y/n) cried out as she came, PJ drank her up as if (Y/n) was water and she was dehydrated. She continued to finish, allowing (Y/n) to ride out her high. (Y/n) felt her hips stutter in pleasure as PJ pulled away slowly, licking her bottom lip. There was a new, proud glimmer in PJ's eyes that caused (Y/n) to pull her up to her, kissing her deeply.

PJ moaned in the kiss, grinning a bit at her work. She felt herself get flipped over and smirked up at the girl on top of her. "Make love to me," PJ whispered, her tongue hitting the back of her teeth as she looked up at (Y/n). She was silently relishing the taste of her, hoping it would never leave her. (Y/n) obliged to her words exploring PJ's body with her hands and her lips. Her lips reattached themselves to PJ's boob, one hand holding her up, and the other entering PJ, causing her to gasp in pleasure. (Y/n) began fingering her as her thumb circled her clit and her mouth sucked on her boob. PJ then felt herself share the same overwhelmingly pleasureful experience that (Y/n) felt earlier.

PJ felt like she was floating on air as (Y/n) pleasured her. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop." She stated, a smile etching its way on her lips before an 'o' formed. Her hands were on (Y/n)'s boobs, which she deemed was the best thing to hold always, but especially during sex. Her hips rolled with (Y/n)'s touch as she felt herself growing closer. "I'm so close, baby," she bit her lip to hide a moan, but it came out anyway. (Y/n) kept the pace that she was at, moaning at PJ's moans. Feeling PJ clench on her fingers, she heard PJ cry out 'I'm cumming' before removing her fingers. PJ would have cried out at the action in protest if (Y/n) hadn't quickly replaced her fingers with her tongue. She helped PJ ride out her high, even overstimulating her into another orgasm as she did so. As she officially pulled away, the two girls catching their breaths, she licked PJ's orgasm from her fingers.

The action alone caused PJ to want to fuck her all over again.

Kicking the covers out from under them, (Y/n) pulled it over them, pulling PJ close to her. Their bare, clammy bodies pressed together, but neither could complain. They didn't want to anyway. "You're the one," PJ said quietly as she brushed a thumb along (Y/n)'s bottom lip. They were drinking each other in, and this was the pre-aftercare the two needed atthat moment, it was a silent agreement. At the face (Y/n) pulled, PJ laughed softly. "I'm serious. You are the one. You are my person." PJ whispered, pressing a kiss to (Y/n)'s lips. The tastes of each other mixed together, but neither minded.

A small laugh escaped (Y/n), despite the loving kiss that PJ shared and she reciprocated. "Are you only saying that because I fucked you into two orgasms?" She questioned cheekily, nudging PJ's nose softly with her own. Their own silly little gesture that they shared. They loved it when their noses touched because it always caused them to laugh, especially when they bumped and ruined a kiss.

"Mmm... Partially," PJ teased, making the two laugh together before PJ got serious again. Her thumb left (Y/n)'s lips, resting on her cheek. "When I look at you, I see everything right in the world. You make me happier than anything. You're so special to me. You are my person, my one, and I love you." PJ said, almost sleepily. Which made sense due to their previous activities. But they still needed to shower and at least get dressed since (Y/n)'s parents would get home later on in the day.

Gently kissing PJ, (Y/n) pulled away with a soft smile adorning her features. "I know, PJ. I love you, too. Just like I'm the person for you, you're the person for me. You're my one, also, and you make me so happy. I couldn't have fallen in love with a better person. You're funny, kind, and loving. Plus, a bonus is that you went to juvie and all." The two couldn't get through any serious conversation without a joke being thrown in somewhere. The two laughed gently before (Y/n) finally convinced PJ it was time to get up and shower. But afterward, they took what could easily be an award-winning nap in each other's arms.

#pj x reader #bottoms x reader #rachel sennott x reader #pj bottoms #bottoms the movie #rachel sennott

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yukimiyaz · 1 year

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ANGELS GO TO FRAT PARTIES

goshiki tsutomu x gn!reader

includes: college au. the boys are in a gray. (unknowing) mutual pining. goshiki is totally smitten. reader is cheeky and a flirt. parties/alcohol. they are tipsy but not drunk.

notes: one of my most favorite things i’ve ever written. idk

Goshiki feels a little bit stupid.

Or maybe that’s just all the blood rushing out of his head from being flipped back upright after doing his keg stand. He sways a bit on his feet, swiping at his chin with the back of his hand and half-assedly accepting the high fives and pats on the back from the people around him. Their cheers are all drowned out though, fading in with the music blasting over the speakers. He doesn’t care about their praise for once, doesn’t give it any mind at all.

No, he’s too focused on you, walking away from the spectacle. His eyes trail after you and watch as you disappear into the sea of the crowd and get engulfed by the multitude that’s crammed into his frat’s basement. He doesn’t understand what you do to him; it’s like you’ve got a rope wrapped around his throat that keeps him close and near. He follows after you, even now, pushing past sweaty bodies and touchy couples by the trail of your image just a few yards ahead, making your way up the stairs. He curses under his breath when someone bumps into him and knocks him off his path, frowns when some idiots making out get right in his way of the steps. He needs to follow you, he has to. It doesn’t make sense.

Goshiki feels stupid, and dumb, and—fuck, maybe a little bit crazy because he shouldn’t even be looking at you at all. You didn’t come here with him, you never come here with him. He’s not the person who’s invited you.

You’ve been Ushijima’s plus one to frat parties for as long as Goshiki can remember.

He recalls his first “small friendly gathering” at his frat very well. Wide eyed and new and wanting to prove himself to all of his older frat brothers. There was so much going on, so much he didn’t see at the select few parties he’d attended in highschool. More beer, less clothes, a (nearly) complete lack of human decency. It was so much—too much, almost.

And that’s when he saw you.

You, with a hand held up to your mouth to shield the giggles that were fumbling out over someone’s—Tendou’s, he thinks, based on the cheeky grin on his face—joke. You, with jeans that fit you well and your hair done so nicely and your eyes that glittered under the pulse of the LED’s Semi had strung up. You, with a soft smile and magnetizing pull and gentle tip of your head.

You, with your hand wrapped around Ushijima’s bicep as you leaned into his side.

He’d known his former captain for years prior, having gone to high school together and keeping in touch even after his graduation, up until this point. And nowhere, not once in that time frame, had Goshiki ever seen someone other than the ace’s best friend touch him as freely as you did.

It sent him to an abrupt standstill, faltering his steps as he walked over to the group. He’s not entirely sure that he would’ve been able to say anything worthwhile to you regardless (pretty people sort of make his tongue feel like lead in the base of his mouth) but any chance of him even attempting to flirt with you went out the window in that exact moment. He kept walking, cursing every god above for Semi having noticed him and waving him over. You’d followed his friend’s gaze, met his through the dim lighting of the living room.

His breath had never left his lungs so fast before.

It had ached then, the way that your eyes pierced right through him while simultaneously melting him at the edges. It burned, the heat licking up the back of his neck as you gave him a little bow of your head while being introduced. All he got was your name—and maybe your major, your year, too, he thinks—but nothing explaining your connection to the man whom you seemed so comfortable with.

He felt guilty for even looking at you. Because, sure, while no one had blatantly come out and said you were off limits, said you were under some sort of relationship umbrella with Ushijima Wakatoshi, he still felt that pressure there—the implication.

Even after that short (and he’s sure very awkward—on his end at least) encounter, you were always so… sweet to him. Bright smiles when you passed each other on the way to class and waves when you’d see each other around campus. Sitting down between him and the ace when your caf times seemed to align and bumping his shoulder when you’d stand beside him in idle conversation. You’re nice, he gathers; to him at least. Then again, maybe it’s just because every time he looks at you he sees a halo and white feathered wings.

But the effect you have on him is anything but angelic.

He wouldn't call it sinful, because that word sounds so wrong when being used to describe you, but the pull you have over him feels like he’s sold his soul. It’s like a moth drawn to a flame; he knows that he shouldn’t get so close but he just can’t help himself, every fear of being burnt discarded in favor of admiring a flicker of your beauty. Every time he thinks he has a grip on it, on this hold you have so tightly on him, all it takes is one glimpse of you and he’s suddenly defenseless. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth, until all of time stops, if you’d let him.

Or out of his frat’s basement, at the very least.

Goshiki chews on the inside of his cheek as he takes the steps two at a time, treading over discarded solo cups and weaving past people who treat the stairs like a seat. For a fleeting second the thought of him being forced to clean this all up with the rest of the freshman and sophomores tomorrow morning slips into his mind, but it’s gone a second after as he catches the last glimpse of you retreating from the opening of the stairs.

It’s quieter up here, it always is. While some (most) people tend to stay downstairs and get shitfaced and enjoy the ragers his frat hosts, others dwindle their way into the frat’s main floor living room. Mostly upperclassmen, the occasional designated driver waiting for their “responsibility” to get tired enough to go home, or the ones who just don’t like loud music and pushy people.

(Tsutomu’s not entirely sure where he falls in on that list, because there isn’t a “following the prettiest person at the party around like a puppy” category, but maybe it's somewhere around the doesn’t like pushy people bullet.)

His eyes flit around the room he walks in, taking in the scene and attempting to swallow down the slight throb in his head. There’s a few people scattered around the room, from his frat and others; Semi’s messing with the small speaker in the floor and waving off Tendou’s song requests, the Miya twins are bickering on the loveseat with Sakusa (begrudgingly, based on how deep his scowl is) squished between them, Kyoutani and Tsukki are laughing at a passed out Kogane in the corner, Hinata’s entertaining a group of a few more by seeing how long he can balance a beer can on his forehead from his spot on the arm of Kageyama’s recliner. And lastly, but nowhere near least, you.

Quite frankly, anyone could have guessed where you’d make a beeline for after your trek up from the chaos downstairs, and he isn’t an exception. There you sit, pretty as ever, right next to Shiratorizawa’s former ace on the couch. The seat beside you is open, and it’s evil, truly, how you catch his eye just as he notices and pat at the cushion in an open invitation.

And Goshiki is so, so stupid—for you, most definitely—that his feet move before his brain can tell him not to.

“Hey,” you beam just as he sits down, shifting to face him even with the arm Ushijima has thrown around your shoulder. He tries not to look at it, attempts to focus on your eyes instead and hopefully keep his own from trailing down to your lips. A hopeless feat, probably. “Saw you beat Bokuto. It was cool.”

There’s a lilt to your voice, a certain crinkle to your eyes as you smile at him that has his stomach bubbling in a way he can’t blame on the alcohol. He breathes out a shaky chuckle, rubs at the back of his neck while he nods.

“Yeah, I guess I was pretty cool,” he agrees, then feels his cheeks heat up from a mix of slight embarrassment and fear of being too cocky. (When he’s ever tried to watch his pride before, he can’t recall, but it’s like he can’t help but want to filter it around you). “I mean, he did do like, four before that one, so. You know. I was probably just lucky with an advantage because of.. that..”

And as if the heavens want to punish him, you laugh. Light and airy behind your hand just like the first time he ever saw you, shoulders bouncing with a slight shake under Ushijima’s arm. Goshiki can’t help but laugh too; everything about you is just so contagious, addicting. He swears he could drink you up and get far more wasted than liquor could ever dream of making him. It nearly makes him sick—in the best way.

“You know, you’re pretty cute when you ramble, Tsu.” It’s a bit teasing, your tone, and it has a lump forming in Goshiki’s throat.

You’re just being nice, he tries to convince himself, slow down the heartbeat throbbing erratically in his ears, you’re being friendly and sweet and kind like you always are, that’s it.

But, god, he hates the way that nickname rolls so easily off your tongue. He’s never been given a nickname before, not a serious one, anyhow. (Because, no, Tendou calling him Baby Ace since the day he joined their team in high school absolutely does not count, no matter how much the redhead tries to claim that it does). And yet, you gave him one so freely. You were never one for formalities, he realized. In fact he doesn’t think he’s ever heard you add an honorific to anyone’s name unless they were your professor. Most people would find it disrespectful—rude—but when it comes from you it’s just.. endearing. Fuck, it’s so endearing.

“Yeah, sure,” he waves off, attempts to, at least. The lights aren’t as dim up here as they are downstairs, but he hopes that it’s still dark enough you can’t see the red pooling in the apples of his cheeks.

“I’m serious!” you defend, another laugh trailing on the end of your rebuttal. The influx of your giggles, the inability to hold them back, Goshiki wonders if you’re a bit tipsy too. “It’s cute!”

“What’s cute?”

The universe must hate him, that has to be it. He blinks through his slightly hazy vision and looks over to the other man on the couch. For a moment he’d almost forgotten he was even there, but the way he leans in now, chest pressing to your side as he tries to get close enough to hear you both clearly over the thumping downstairs, makes his presence impossible not to notice.

Goshiki opens his mouth to rush out an answer; the couple snuggled up in the corner, a video he showed you on his phone, hell he’d even blurt out fucking puppies if it kept him from admitting what you said. Because you and Ushijima are… you know, right? And that would be—that’d be awkward wouldn’t it? To just say that? And he isn’t scared of his former ace, there’s absolutely no way, but he also isn’t too keen on getting a black eye. So he tries to rush something out over the clumsiness of his tongue, tries to save himself the decking of a lifetime, but.

“Tsutomu’s rambling. It’s really cute, don’t you think?”

God, do you want him to die? Is that it?

Small is not a word that one would normally use to describe Goshiki; with athletically broad shoulders and a six foot one frame that’s nothing but strategically bulked muscle, he’s honestly quite big. But he feels about two inches tall with Ushijima’s gaze focused on him, dark olive eyes pinning him in his seat and making that lump you planted in his throat grow like a watermelon seed. He can’t swallow, or breathe, or think at all really. Other than the thought that this is where he gets bloodied into a pulp because your honeyed tongue lured him right into a vicious bear trap.

So he waits. And waits. And… waits. For something, anything—a fist to his jaw, mostly—to come from Ushijima. Yet it all seems to be benign, because the only thing he gets from his longtime friend is a deep hum.

“Sure, yes,” Wakatoshi nods thoughtfully, seriously, and Tsutomu isn’t sure if the weight on his chest is letting up or getting worse by hearing the rumble of his voice. “Cute. Tendou uses that word to describe him frequently.”

From somewhere to his right, Goshiki can hear the redhead in question whining out a ‘It’s Satori, you dumb Miracle Boy,’ followed by Ushijima nodding in acknowledgement with a muffled ‘Apologies’ right after. And he—he doesn’t understand.

“See! Even Toshi agrees.” And you sound so excited, so proud of yourself that you have his opinion to back you up. You lift your hand up, raise it to his cheek and pinch the heated skin there. “Very cute.”

The way Goshiki nearly chases after the ghost of your touch as your hand pulls away is embarrassing, or it would be if anyone had picked up it. He wants to respond to you, he really does, but his mouth has never felt more dry. There’s a half empty plastic cup on the ottoman in front of him; he doesn’t have a clue who it belongs to but he’s tempted to chug down the rest of it regardless. He’s pretty sure that he’s a smidge too sober to be going through this right now.

“Thanks,” he settles on. Croaks out past the frog in his throat as his hands tense up on the tops of his thighs. His jeans suddenly feel uncomfortable, the collar of his shirt a bit too tight. God, did it just get even hotter in here?

“You–” And he nearly winces as he chokes up on himself. “Y-You’re cute too. Pretty! You’re… really pretty.”

Your lips curl up at the edges and hook straight into Goshiki’s heart. A tip of your head and a crease to the two edges of your eyes is all it takes to have his world shifting, tilting on its axis with him suddenly grappling to cling on. Is it the blinking of the LEDs or do your eyes always sparkle like this?

(He’s ready and willing to believe it’s the latter, given the chance.)

“Thank you.” Your smile grows wider—if that’s even humanly possible. (But Tsutomu doesn’t think it is, which he only uses as further evidence for his hypothesis that you must be a creature from the heavens). “You’re always such a sweetheart, Tsu.”

He grins and dips his head in a weak attempt to shield the tint on his cheeks deepening. “No, not really,” he mumbles, and by the look on your face he can tell you’re straining to hear him. But your smile is just as soft, your gaze just as kind. He really can’t help himself. “Hey, I was, uh, wondering–”

Hoops and hollers drift up the staircase and are trailed by the owners of them directly after. Terushima is leading what looks like a drunken and wobbly conga line up the steps and into the living room, effectively upping the volume and drowning out the tail end of Goshiki’s sentence as they weave around in haphazard circles.

“What?” You try to ask, but he can barely hear you now, even with your voice elevated.

He tries to talk again, attempts to start his sentence over, but gives up when he sees that look of apparent confusion on your pretty face. Alone time, is what he wanted to ask for, as simple or awkward as it may be. But as Terushima trips over his shoe and Taketora all but falls into his lap and he has to shove him off, he thinks he should’ve just been grateful for getting to speak to you on the cramped couch instead.

You shift in your seat, turning away from him, and he thinks you’ve finally grown bored. He watches as you turn to Ushijima, raise up to get your mouth right next to his ear. You’re probably asking him to switch spots with you, maybe you really were just trying to play it nice earlier. Wakatoshi nods to you, then meets Goshiki’s eyes from across the couch before retracting his arm from around your shoulder. Maybe it was too soon to be thanking god for saving him from a decking earlier.

But instead of Ushijima getting up, or moving you over to swap seats, you turn to face him again. Your mouth is moving, but Goshiki can’t hear you. Jesus Christ these idiots are too fucking loud. He taps his ear, tries to shout over the noise that he can’t understand a word you’re saying.

His heart skips a solid four beats when you wrap your hand around his bicep and lean in. Suddenly your breath is tickling his ear, not Ushijima’s. Chills have never wound around his spine quite like this before.

“I’m gonna go catch a breather. Do you wanna come?”

And Goshiki might be stupid, but he isn’t dumb enough to deny a miracle that’s been placed directly into his hands.

“Yeah!” he shouts instantly, nodding his head like a backup in case you couldn’t hear him.

He’s quick to follow your lead when you stand up, not wanting to chance having to deal with losing you in the crowd. The chance he’s so worried about isn’t quite given to him though, because before you even take a step you’re grabbing his hand. He tells himself you’re only being polite—the same mantra he’s been repeating over and over in his head since the day he first met you—that you, too, are just trying to prevent either of you getting lost in the hopeless abyss of sweaty bodies.

Your fingers squeeze his, you throw a smile over your shoulder at him, and Goshiki knows, immediately, at that moment.

He’s a fucking goner.

Step by step you lead him through the living room, hand gripping tighter when a fumbling Kuroo threatens to bump you apart and his chest hitting your back when you have to stop midstep to let Daichi and Asahi drag a slurring Suga through. Goshiki strains to hear your giggles as you point and laugh at the scene of Iwaizumi holding a whining and crying Oikawa down so Mattsun can write on his face with a sharpie while Makki records. (He’ll get that video for you later, if it means it’ll make you laugh again.) He sees you coo at the sight of Yamaguchi retying Yachi’s hair for her as you turn the corner, and watches how your eyebrows shoot up at the view of Tanaka proposing to Kiyoko for the fifth time tonight. Then, finally, the two of you reach the patio door. You drop his hand as you slide it open and step through, and Goshiki has to struggle to restrain himself from trying to reach out and grab it again. He shuts the door behind himself, the sound on the other side muffling to a dull hum instantly.

“Ah,” you sigh, shoulders visibly slumping as you take in a deep breath. Walking to the edge of the patio, you hop up onto the railing, letting your feet dangle as you look to Goshiki. “That’s better. I could hardly hear myself think in there.”

Your laugh comes out in puffs, the remnants of winter causing nights like this to plummet the temperatures. The shirt you showed up in has proven unfit to match against the chill, and yet you don’t complain; just rub at your upper arms with your palms subtly. But Goshiki notices (as he does with everything about you) and more importantly he is a gentleman—to you, at least—and lives up to that now as he tugs his jacket off and steps up to wrap it around your shoulders.

“Oh, no, you don't have to. You’ll get cold,” you protest, attempting to slip it back off even though Tsutomu can see your sough of relief at the added layer. His hands stop you, keep the jacket around your shoulders, and he shakes his head.

“I’m fine.” And he can’t help but smile at the way you pout slightly. “I’d rather you were warm than me, anyways.”

He watches as you, begrudgingly at first, start to slip your arms in the sleeves. But as your hands pass through that easy grin finds its way back to the curve of your lips, and you sink into the warmth of Goshiki’s jacket as the sleeves pool over the tips of your fingers.

“Well thank you. You really are just a big sweetheart, huh?”

And, fuck, the way everything you say to him goes straight to his head; it can’t be natural. He’s used to feeding off the compliments of others, clinging to the words of praise thrown his way and piling up the trophies of astonishments to show he belongs to the best of the best. But with you, it's different. With you, it’s like it doesn't just inflate his head but his heart also. Like you’re trying to make it big enough for you to fit yourself inside, carve out a space for you to crawl right in and make yourself at home.

Or maybe Goshiki’s doing that all by himself.

You affect him—change him, whenever you are around. It’s been the case all night and it’s been the case everyday before now, there’s something about you that warps Tsutomu’s traits. Fissures the molds he’s taken so long to create and breaks the habits he thought would be instilled for the rest of his life. It makes him hold his tongue, swallow his brags, put a blanket over his normally unwavering pride. You make him quiet. Humble. Soft.

So maybe that’s why he lets his shoulders fall now, drops his broad stance and proper posture. Maybe that’s why he blows out a sigh and doesn’t pay any mind to the way the little cloud fogs up between you two. Maybe that’s why his tongue grows lax and his guard cracks open, to bear himself to you fully on the back patio of his frat house.

“No, I’m really not,” he admits, despite that voice in the back of his head calling him a fool for trying to ruin this image you have of him. Perhaps it’s the smidge of alcohol in his system that gives him the strength to quiet it down (and is the cause for his admittance), he’s not sure. “I just don’t want Ushijima to kill me if you get sick.”

Another laugh bubbles through you, gentle and light, but it fades too quick and ends too soon as you notice there isn’t a single trace of a jest on Goshiki’s features. You open your mouth to ask him what he means by that, why he looks so serious all of the sudden, but before you can, he continues.

“You think–you think I’m this really nice guy.” His eyebrows are furrowed together, you want to reach forward and smooth the crease between them out. “You think I’m just good and nice and–and a sweetheart. But I’m not. I yell at the other guys in the morning when I trip over their shoes and I act like I’m better than everyone at practice and I make fun of them when they can’t get plays down right on the first try.”

He doesn’t know why he’s telling you this, he hates that he’s telling you this. In his mind, he knows that this will be it; that you’ll hear him admit all these things like a sinner at a confessional and never want to look at him again. But he just.. he can’t stop.

“I think I deserve to be on top just because I’m me and I only actually respect people when they’ve fully beaten me on something. And the only exception to that ever has been— god, it's you! I can’t even be mad or hate you about it because you’re just so.. So fucking perfect and it drives me crazy. You drive me crazy. I can’t go a single second without thinking about you or what you said to me that day or the shirt you were wearing the last time you came over. And that’s the worst part, you don't even come over for me!”

His eyes are burning and he isn’t sure if it's because there are tears threatening his lash line or if it’s the breeze that’s making them sting. He feels so entirely overwhelmed, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He can’t even look up at you.

“You–you’re Ushijima’s! And he’s my friend! I have so much respect for him and here I am festering some stupid crush on you like some dumb little kid. You say I’m sweet but there’s nothing sweet about the way I’m thinking about you, I really have to be sick in the head or something because I'm not even actually sorry. God, Ushijima would kill me if he knew I was saying any of this to you, let alone if he found out I was in love with you! I’m—”

The realization hits Goshiki a little too late for him to catch his tongue. The breath stills in his lungs and his heartbeats follow suit. You haven’t said anything, not a single word, and it does nothing to help the fact that he feels like a dead man walking.

Timidly, and ever so slowly, he dares to raise his head, lift his gaze up to meet yours. Goshiki has never been one to admit to being scared, but right now the fear of what he’ll be met with is damn near bubbling over. A split second, a fraction of a sliver of time is all he gets to try to catch a glimpse of your expression before suddenly there are two hands cupping his face and yanking him forward and–

You’re kissing him, on his frat’s back patio.

He has to shoot his hands out to grab onto the railing to catch himself, your knees spreading and his body slotting right in between them. He can’t think straight, his mind is all but fizzling out and spitting smoke out of his ears as your lips mold against his in a way he thought he could only ever dream about. Kissing back seems like a far cry, and something he doesn’t quite get the chance to do because all too soon you’re pulling back and your breath is fanning over his heated cheeks.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you breathe, arms sliding to wrap around his neck and heels resting against the back on his thighs. It’s almost jolting, hearing something like that coming out of your pretty little mouth, but Goshiki doesn’t even attempt to wrap his head around it. “Toshi isn’t my boyfriend , our parents are friends. We’ve known each other since we were toddlers.”

“O-Oh,” Goshiki chokes, knuckles nearly white from his grip on the rail. “So you aren’t– You don’t– You and him–”

“No, never.” Your dismissal is instant, your head shaking from side to side. “Not like that. Besides, the only reason I come around so much is because of a certain guy in his frat.”

You’re smiling again. Goshiki still can’t breathe. He thinks you want to kill him.

“Really?”

“Mhm, really,” you hum, and he’s curious if you know you’re tugging him in closer or if it’s completely accidental. “He’s very cute, dark eyes and these absolutely adorable dimples. Gets all rambly when he’s tipsy. I think I could listen to him talk about himself all day. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he’s got pretty nice muscles.”

“Ah,” Goshiki exhales, follows you as tease him by continuing to lean back. “He sounds very.. Uhm..”

“Yes?” You taunt, grin in a way that is absolutely anything but innocent, and he doubts his hypothesis of you for a moment, contemplates the odds that maybe your wings are dipped in a touch of sin afterall. “Very what, Tsu?”

He’s stuck marveling, drinking in the sight of you on the railing before him. Leaned back like this, the night sky becoming a perfectly displayed backdrop, you almost look ethereal. He wonders if that’s really the moon hanging above you, because at first glance he could swear it’s the glow of a halo circling the crown of your alluring little head. Moonlight’s never looked so good painting someone’s skin as it does yours, he’s sure of it. It soaks you up and pools in your irises and Goshiki is so, so willing to drown.

“Pretty,” he says breathlessly, warrantlessly, and he’s so in love with you. “God, you’re so pretty. Can I.. I just.. Need to–”

You don’t have the pleasure of hearing the end of his sentence, but his actions seem to provide you with enough implication to connect the dots. Because suddenly he’s surging forward like a man who's been deprived of nectar for far too long and kissing you full and hard and right. A muffled yelp tumbles out of your mouth and into his as you lean back a bit too far, but an arm secures around you a second later, catching your weight and pulling you flush to a warm chest. Your fingers thread into the buzz at the back of his neck and his fist into the back of the jacket around you. It’s warm and good and you melt into him like honey off a comb.

Goshiki’s never really thought about what heaven might be like, but he’s sure this has to be pretty close.

With a gasping breath you pull away, stuttering through inhales as Tsutomu tries to chase your lips, place more pecks, pull you closer like he’s offended you’d dare pull away. You laugh into his mouth, place your hands on his cheeks to keep him sated enough for you to speak.

“I love you too, by the way. And I don’t want to stop kissing you,” you confess, causing the man’s cheeks to get impossibly warmer. You have to turn your cheek to stop him from leaning in again. “But we should probably go somewhere a bit more private. Plus, my hands are freezing.”

Goshiki nods, but his eyes are hazy in a way you’re not entirely sure he even knows what you’re saying. “Y-Yeah,” he agrees, nonetheless, and allows you to push him back a step so you can slide down from the railing. “Okay.”

Your giggles make him feel dizzy, and he doesn’t even care if he’s making a fool of himself because you’re leaning up to kiss him again. Giving him a peck, and two, and three, as you take steps backwards and slide the patio door open. The sound envelopes the two of you instantly, drowns out your laughs in a way Goshiki hates but drowns out his thoughts in a way he loves-; a way that allows him to only focus on you.

Neither of you catch them, the two men huddled up and pressed along the wall by the patio door looking like two peeping toms trying not to get caught. Ushijima and Tendou watch as you lead Goshiki up the stairs with your hands in his and his jacket slipping from his shoulders, a peck and string of giggles after every step. Tendou cheers, Ushijima smiles, and they clink their beers together before watching you two disappear down the hallway.

The thumps grow duller and the lights less tinted as you lead Goshiki down the hall with a trail of kisses, laughing into his neck when his arms start to snake around you. You count the doors as you pass—two, three, four—until you get to his bedroom. A hand on the knob, you push the door (and your luck) and by grace it opens. Goshiki’s feet are frozen as he watches you, easy grin on your lips as his jacket falls onto the floor. You walk around his room, skimming your fingers over his dresser, lazily sifting by the clothes in his closet, until you wind up at his bed. It’s sharp, how the breath gets punched out of him as you take your seat on the edge of it. You don’t say anything, you don’t have to, you just hold your hand out to him with a smile as sweet as sin.

And as Goshiki rushes to close the door behind him, he knows he was wrong about that whole heaven thing earlier.

Because right now there’s an angel sitting on the edge of his bed, and he thinks this one night will be better than heaven is ever going to get.

#yukimiyaz writing #goshiki x reader #goshiki tsutomu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff

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crowtrobotx · 9 months

Text

Check Engine

Ya girl has completely gone off the deep end. Did someone order a Mechanic!Karl fic that’s just going to likely end up being filth? Well, too bad. You’re getting it. First chapter isn’t much aside from reader (GN) thirsting. (Never fear Chrysalis fans, this is but a temporary diversion into madness lol. My main focus is still that particular work.) Words: 3,533 Characters: Karl Heisenberg x Reader Warnings: Minors DNI - Eventual Smut and hysterically bad PWP to follow, provided everyone feeds my ego enough. Read on AO3

You had no idea what had possessed you to bring your car to this body shop, but you were simultaneously thanking and cursing whatever it had been that guided your hand and made you turn onto the lonely gravel driveway after work, finally deciding that you could no longer win the staring contest between yourself and the check engine light. The sign, the exterior - everything about this place had seen better days, but you didn’t have the money to fork over to a more reputable establishment and at the very least it was on the way to the little place you’d started renting just outside of the city limits. The yard surrounding the building proper was littered with rusted out cars and bikes that you were pretty sure couldn’t possibly be salvaged, and there was an unsettling abundance of signs taped to the window warning any trespassers of what might befall them if they tried anything sketchy. The faded logo on the lopsided sign by the roadside looked like it might have once been a stallion’s head framed by a metal horseshoe, but between the sun and pure neglect it had faded to something almost entirely unrecognizable. Still, every morning on the way to your new job you’d passed this place, and no one seemed to be actively being robbed or shot on the property. It was probably fine. You’d taken a cautious step out of your vehicle, the barking of an unseen dog giving you pause. If you hadn’t been feeling so bold that particular day, jacked up on a particularly adventurous coffee order, you might not have decided on a whim to pull in and would rather have called ahead and given the owner the courtesy of a heads-up. But, no. Today you threw caution to the wind and gave a middle finger to all the pragmatic thoughts that screeched at you to get back behind the wheel and peel out of there as fast as physics allowed.

Having only lived in this town for a few months, you didn’t yet have the luxury of knowing what businesses you wanted to frequent or who was trustworthy or even where everything was. Hell, you didn’t even have friends here – you’d left everyone behind when you’d accepted your new position and decided to start over fresh. It might have simply been easier to jump on the highway and go looking for a more populated area, one that had a massive cineplex and ten Starbucks stores and a respectable car dealership. Your ego simply wouldn’t allow it. Your parents had questioned your choice to move to what was comparatively such a small town, but the promise of a quiet change of pace had been enough to entice you to take the plunge. You felt the thrill of rebellion coursing through your veins as you straightened your stance and made your way into what seemed to be the main entrance, a silent pep talk fueling your every step.

Granted, nothing about this mechanic seemed quiet.

You’d heard the ancient radio blaring before you’d even parked your car, the tinny audio almost enough to make you want to overnight the owner something less outdated purely out of the goodness of your heart. Add on top of that the clangs and whirrs of the machinery that were to be expected, plus the periodic exclamations of FUCK and STUPID PIECE OF— and you were beginning to understand why the shop sat on the edge of town, with fields in every direction unmarred by the cookie cutter housing developments that tended to descend on these areas like locusts. It seemed that whoever operated this joint wasn’t very interested in mingling with the local populace - you hoped that meant that whatever they charged you wouldn’t completely bankrupt you, but you kept that little tidbit of information to yourself. As it turned out, the interior was much the same as the sight that had greeted you when you pulled up. A near cataclysmic pile of junk was present everywhere you looked - you could just make out the workspace in the back of the building that looked at least a little bit clear, but between the low light caused by multiple dead bulbs and the thick coat of grime that seemed to cover everything in sight, it didn’t look much more inviting. The voice you’d heard was coming from that general direction, it seemed, and you cleared your throat, hoping that whoever was back there would be alerted to your presence. Of course, no matter how many fake coughs you managed, you still found yourself standing alone but for the woman in the poster on the opposite wall, scantily clad and leaning seductively against the hood of a restored classic Chevy. Fuck you, Mom and Dad. I won’t be bested by a shady repair shop. A cautious ding of the call bell yielded no results. You ended up having to shout into the void, doing your best to sound polite while you hollered for someone, anyone, to help you. More than once. When the radio suddenly went silent and the intermittent curses ceased, you knew you’d been successful. You waited with baited breath until at last a man stalked up to the counter, his expression almost the comical opposite of the smiley face printed on the “Ring for service!” sign taped to the counter. “Yeah?” He looked less delighted at the prospect of a new customer and more irritated that you’d had the audacity to show up and offer him a job. You stared back, at first completely unsure what to make of him. He wasn’t very tall, but he was broad and struck and imposing figure nonetheless. His wiry gray hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, the flyaways zigzagging away from his face like thunderbolts, and his messy silvery beard was uneven and looked in desperate need of a trim. His forehead was lined with lines that told of a life not particularly easy, and his light blue eyes darted anxiously between you and the exit, as if he expected your presence to herald something terrible. If you had to guess his age - maybe 45? 50? He looked like the type of person who might have been older than he looked - there was a weariness to him that you got the feeling he might never admit to but was detectable all the same. The dark blue coveralls he wore were halfway undone, tied around his waist and leaving him in a stained, dirty tank top that presumably had been white at some point. Now it was threadbare and almost gray, but you weren’t complaining - it meant you got a peak at the dark chest hair peeking out over the brim, and his biceps that flexed beneath skin criss crossed with old and new scars. His undershirt also didn’t seem to properly fit him - it was particularly tight around the middle and seemed in danger of riding up at any moment and oh dear god you were not about to thirst over this complete stranger and his dad bod, what was wrong with you?

If you wouldn’t have felt like a character in a sitcom, you might have slapped yourself across the face to bring yourself back to reality. He raised a brow at you, hands busying themselves with a rag that seemed far too dirty to have any chance at removing any of the god-knew-what trapped beneath his nails. Somewhere in the back, an alarm rang - some machine protesting his lack of attention. Just as he drew a breath in to chastise you and no doubt ask if you were stupid or something, you managed to sputter out an explanation for your visit. “Hmm,” he peered out the window at your back toward where you’d left you car. “When did it start doing that?” “Just about halfway through my move here,” you said, your confidence waning with every passing moment. “I’m uh, I’m new to the area. I drive through here on my way to work and I thought–” “You thought you’d just show up without so much as calling and that I’d just be dying to fix that hunk of junk? That I’d be jumping for joy and kissing your ass for deciding to grace my shop with your presence?” You gaped wordlessly for a moment. “N-no. Of course not, I just–” The man barked a laugh, revealing straight but slightly tobacco-stained teeth. You hated that he was vaguely handsome - not in the way most people would consider, of course. In the way that someone with slight mental derangement and daddy issues might find attractive - lucky for him, the dry spell that had plagued you over the last year was playing into his favor. It was throwing you off of your game, undermining all of the conviction you’d built up before entering. “I’m just kidding, doll. Calm down,” he said, cocking his head thoughtfully. “Sheesh, unclench your ass. I know that model, got a good idea of what might be causing it. I can probably fix it within an hour but I’ve got this other piece of shit to get back to working order first. Owner’s a real bitch and I do not want to deal with it if it’s not done by closing - can you wait maybe a couple hours?” Relief flooded your body. A couple of hours out of your night was far less terrible than the scenarios your mind had thought up when you’d first noticed the issue. You’d imagined weeks without your car, paying not just for the repair but also for a rental or a rideshare service that would not only add to your expenses but also mean you had to make dreaded small talk with strangers on the way to and from work. “Yes - that’s fine,” you exhaled shakily. “Thank you.” He nodded. “Got a lovely little waiting area behind you - make yourself comfortable. You want a soda or some shit? I think they’re ah…. Expired, but not by much.” “No, that’s okay. I’ll just play on my phone or something, thank you.” After a gruff nod, the mechanic disappeared to the back once more, and the radio resumed its obnoxious screeching. You noticed, with some amusement, that the shouting seemed to have died down somewhat, though not entirely. He seemed to be doing his best to deliver on his version of customer service. Whatever, you thought, if he fixes the car tonight and I don’t have to sell a kidney to pay for it, he’s my new favorite person on earth. As it turned out, the “waiting area” was little more than a bench with a wobbly leg, an end table, and a television with no remote that appeared to be perpetually stuck on the History channel. It was mounted far too high on the wall for you to feel around for any buttons, but you weren’t overly bothered by it. You had a mostly full phone battery, and a three hour video essay to catch up on. Of course, as seemed to be your luck as of late, a problem immediately made itself known - there was no wifi here. You sighed. Really, you should have expected it - the service you got in your apartment was shoddy as it was, why would some backwoods auto body shop be any better? With a sigh, you glanced at the end table and noticed the collection of magazines provided for the entertainment of the guests unfortunate enough to get stuck here while waiting for their cars to emerge from the mysterious garage out back. There was an eclectic mix, and you decided to live a little and fish through the pile without looking, pulling out a copy of National Geographic and resigning yourself to whatever contents you found within. Your mind wandered while you read, as did your eyes. Left alone with your thoughts, you were forced to consider the possibility that you’d made a mistake. Your father probably would have been horrified to hear that you’d simply showed up somewhere without giving the business a thorough search online and reading reviews. The owner - at least, he acted like the owner - had seemed relatively normal, if a little odd, from your brief interaction. But who knew - it was also entirely possible that there was a reason this place sat so separate from the city center, and he might very well end up wearing your skin as a mask come morning. The way things had been going for you, you weren’t sure that was such a bad thing. Truthfully, your move had not been as serendipitous as the movies had made it seem. You had expected a wholly beneficial change, that by casting aside your old relationships and job and apartment you would finally shake the feeling of stagnation that had settled heavy on your shoulders these past few years. But instead, you’d been greeted with roadblock after roadblock. First, the movers had forgotten an entire truckload of your things. Then, the exceedingly polite but hugely inept lady in payroll had managed to make your first paycheck hit your account several weeks late. Add to that the general fish out of water feeling that was bound to accompany any move, and your car deciding to try to kick the bucket felt like the final nail in the coffin. You could not, under any circumstances, admit that perhaps you’d been unprepared. Giving up was out of the question. If this mechanic turned out to be a complete scam, it might break you. Your eyes flicked up periodically from the bright photographs of penguins in the Antarctic to take in the details of the small part of the shop you were privy to. There were scant few decorations - no real attempt to make any visitors feel at home. There wasn’t even a coffee machine, or a mini fridge with complimentary bottles of water. You could vaguely see into a side room that looked like it must have been the owner’s office. There were a few pictures on the wall of him with some fancy looking cars, a couple of certificates that indicated that the building and business had passed the most basic inspections for human habitation. And, dear lord, were there a lot of posters with terrible jokes on them. Your personal favorite was a metal sign peering at you from behind the service desk that read “Unattended children will be given candy and a puppy.” You couldn’t help the small smile playing on your lips. Most businesses would have plaques commemorating their customer service awards, or how they were voted on of the local Best of’s. This guy seemed like he was daring you, personally, to leave a Yelp review. You wondered briefly if he was single, then gave yourself a hard pinch on the wrist and reminded yourself that you needed to find a new therapist.

Time passed, at once both too quickly and unbearably slow. Every time you looked at your phone, it felt like it was playing a joke on you - more than once you considered standing up and hunting down the mechanic to tell him you’d just come back some other time, with the intention of not returning. But just when you’d mustered the courage to stand, he appeared as if summoned - a few locks of his hair had escaped the ponytail now and fell haphazardly near his shoulders. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat but flashed you an easy grin all the same. “Brought you that soda whether you want it or not. You looked so sad out here I could hardly stand it. I’m takin’ your car back now, should just be a little bit. Name’s Karl, by the way. It’s on the - it’s on the jumpsuit, but it’s hot as balls in here. You know how it is.” You accepted the lukewarm can with a quiet “thanks” before handing him your keys and stopping yourself before asking if he’d be so kind as to just run you over while he was at it. After he disappeared out of sight and you heard your car engine rev to life, you sighed and slumped in your seat, letting your head rest with a thump against the wall at your back. The drink in your hand felt like it weighed about 50 extra pounds. Now you were really deep in it. You couldn’t well tell him to just stop now that he was actually in the middle of working. But you did want that fucking light to stop glaring at you every time to fired it up - shit. You glanced at the can - the expiration date was six months ago. ….whatever. You switched between the magazine, a previously downloaded podcast on your phone, and staring thoughtlessly at the fuzzy television for the next twenty minutes. You were hungry, and tiredness from your day was starting to settle into your bones. All of the self-assuredness that you’d felt when you’d arrived had given way to loneliness, and with that, the feeling that perhaps you didn’t know nearly as much as you thought. The other problems you’d been ignoring started to loom large in your mind - the broken sink you had to call the front office about, the vinyl record of yours that had broken during the move, the fact that it felt like your new boss might have a vendetta against you. You glanced down again at the article it had taken you far too long to get through. You read over the same sentence once, twice, ten times without absorbing it. This was supposed to be your fresh start, your magical new leaf that would change everything. No more would you be trapped with jobs and partners and shitty landlords. You were going to prove to everyone that you were capable of doing something great on your own, that your judgment was sound and that you didn;t need anyone else to get by. Everywhere you went, you felt the sensation of otherness, for lack of a better word. The flyers pinned on the cork board at the grocery store were for clubs and events that didn’t involve you. People greeted one another by name except for you - oh, they were polite, but you still had the nagging feeling that you were just a novelty, something looking into the window from the outside that would never be invited in. Perhaps you hadn’t put as much thought into this massive overhaul of your life as you’d insisted. Perhaps everyone else had been right and it would have been smarter and more responsible to stay where you were - even if that meant standing still. Maybe it really had been as good as it would get, and you’d fucked it all up. Once again, Karl had impeccable timing. “So, funny story, turns out I might have lied.” He leaned easily against the doorframe, strong arms crossed in front of his chest.

You lowered the magazine and blinked at him owlishly. So engrossed had you been in reading about global political events that had long since come and gone that you’d almost forgotten you weren’t alone. “Oh?” A sinking feeling descended upon you. You’d tried to quash any thoughts of him pulling the classic repairman tactic of finding “extra” problems to charge you for while he was at work - you had told yourself you were smart enough to recognize it if it happened, but your spirits were so dampened at this point that you felt like just letting him do whatever the hell he wanted if it meant you could get out of here without a fight. “Don’t like the drink?” He nodded toward the unopened can at your side. He sounded, oddly, rather hurt. He scratched his beard thoughtfully, eyes roaming you once before meeting your gaze. You almost melted into a puddle. Wow, you needed to get laid. “Oh!” You waved your hands disarmingly. “No! It’s not that, I’m just - it’s been a long day. I honestly forgot it was there. I’ll have it when I get home. You were saying something about my car?” “The car? Oh, yeah. Ain’t nothing wrong with that hunk of junk. Just a stupid communication issue in the electronics. Without gettin’ into too much detail, basically the thing that’s triggering your warning light is less an actual problem and more just something misfiring. I can reset it for you and have you on your way - just wanna double check and make sure I’m not gonna be wrong twice. Not usually wrong the first time, mind you - I’ve also had a long day if you don’t mind me saying.” He shuffled in place almost awkwardly before stretching, almost as if to feign indifference to your opinion. When he did so, much to your delight and horror the tank top did indeed ride up revealing a thick stretch of hair that made its way from below his belly button to -

“Yeah, I can wait a little longer,” you said hastily, forcing the magazine in front of your face to hide the obvious and burning redness spreading up from your chest and burning a path across your cheeks.

#okay let me tag this so that the people who apparently can't handle the sight of x reader fic without having an aneurysm don't freak out #karl heisenberg x reader #x reader #x reader fic #READER INSERT #reader insert fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #KARL HEISENBERG x Y/N #x y/n #THIS FIC IS A READER INSERT WRITTEN IN THE SECOND PERSON ARE YOU ALL HAPPY NOW.#okay anyway #karl heisenberg #resident evil village

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luvrsux · 9 months

Text

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆

❝ 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 ❞

other chapters

➠┊word count: 4.1k

➠┊characters: trafalgar law, portgas d. ace, monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, vinsmoke sanji, franky, usopp, nami, sabo, perona, mihawk {mentioned}, garp {mentioned}

➠┊cw: fighting, mention of blood, minor swearing

➠┊modern au !!

{colors for dialogue will change//switch//fluctuate as more characters are introduced !!}

୨⎯🖤⎯୧

It was a grand population at Grand Ocean High. It was just an ordinary school but it was fairly popular. It wasn’t a run down school with slop to feed the zombies they called students, but it wasn’t prestigious where they treated them like royals. Somewhere in the middle is where it laid.

You, a Junior, couldn’t wait to just graduate already. You pulled into the parking lot with your own car, that was proudly given to your by your single mother. It wasn’t anything expensive, quite run down considering it was a hand-me-down, but it did its job. With a sigh, your stared at the steering wheel, wallowing in the stress that dwelled in your head from the mere presence of the school building.

The year had only just started a few months ago, thus the crisp rigid cold from winter crept along day by day. Your car blasted the heating, you couldn’t stand the cold. The feeling of getting goosebumps and your fingers being stiff made you uncomfortable, hence why you always wore fuzzy attire.

A knock echoed on your glass window beside you. The shockwave startled your soul due to the deep trance of your own self pity. Your panicked eyes soon dissolved once you realized who called for you. A shaggy, long haired guy that grossly wore a baggy, orange tank in the 50 degree weather. You hated that about him.

All you could focus on him was his hearty laugh once he realized he startled you. You resented on lowering the window, but obliged with a menacing glare.

“Morning”

You grumbled. The muffled laughs grew louder once the window was buried in your car. You watched him relax, the same still expression on your face.

“You looked like a moron!” He teased. You just stood silent, feeling a vein poke out your forehead.

“You look like a moron with that stupid tank top in freezing weather” You snarled. It caused the cowboy looking guy to observe his attire.

“It’s not that cold, is it?” He asked, dumbfounded.

You had enough of Ace’s tomfoolery and just snatched your backpack that laid next to you. The door swung straight into Ace’s body, causing him to grunt in slight pain. Ace tanked it, though, he was an athlete after all.

“Hey, hey watch it!” Ace shook a fist. You just grinned and kicked the door shut. As you strut your body forward to the school entrance, you heard Ace follow on your tail.

You and Ace were rather close since freshman year. See, you weren’t from Grand Ocean, so you were a complete newbie. In the school, everyone knew each other while simultaneously keeping into their own groups, like wolves in a pack. Ace was an overall social butterfly, and made you feel welcome. Ever since then Ace saw you as a little sibling.

Unlike you, though, Ace was a fairly popular student. Everyone adored him and his athletic ability. He was captain of the basket ball team, practically homing in the schools gym. The contrast between the two teenagers was significantly huge, but they managed. You would oftentimes help Ace with academics when Ace would typically slack off. Ace was a senior, though, so after this year you wouldn’t have his presence. It was a blessing but also a curse.

Ace talked your ear off as you two entered the school premises. In the morning, you were like a hermit crab, you resented everyone. ‘Why would anyone be so cheerful this early?’ You’d ponder, looking up at Ace that was lost in his own conversation.

You fumbled your fingers on your designated locker, Ace still by your side as usual. Ace was like a mother duck with ducklings, though. Soon enough, a shaggier boy ran toward the two along with a more well kept blonde trying to catch him. Ace grew a pearly smile as he made eye contact with his brothers. You, on the other hand, felt your eyes twitch. It was too early…

“Ace! Ace!” The smaller boy jumped.

“Luffy, relax! What’d you even have for breakfast this morning…” The blonde looked embarrassed, but still had a smile on his face.

“Morning, Sabo” You waved at Sabo with a frail hand and a small smile. Sabo was the only brother that you could tolerate most of the time. Sabo gleamed at you.

“Mornin’ (F/N)!”

Sabo had a hand raised to greet his friend. They were all a small group, but then again, both Luffy and Ace had more than one group. Arguably, they were the most popular in GOH.

Sabo was sort of tucked in both of their shadows, which slightly disappointed him. Everyone liked Sabo only for the sole purpose that he was related to the two golden boys. You were aware with Sabo’s reputation and tried to make him feel validated as much as possible.

“Ace! I got morning detention!” Luffy cheered. Despite the literal punishment given to him, Luffy was still cheerful and laid back as ever. He never took anything seriously.

“You runt!” Ace chuckled, ruffling Luffy’s messy hair. It seemed like Luffy never did his hair in the morning.

“I tried to stop him but…” Sabo sighed in defeat only to receive another ruffle of the hair by Ace’s rough palm.

“Don’t worry, you’re fine” He smiled. Ace then wrapped his toned arm around you, startling you slightly.

“I’m going to send this one to their class and I’ll see you guys later!” Ace said proudly. Sabo and Luffy watched as you sighed in defeat with a slightly agitated expression.

Sabo waved at you with a soft smile while he practically dragged Luffy away to avoid anymore ruckus and trouble. Ace jerked his body around to pace towards your first period. He knew your schedule from the back of his hand.

“People are going to think we’re dating…” You said with disgust in your voice. You eyed every student that eyed the two of you back. Some people have actually questioned you if you two were a thing. It was becoming a chore to debunk it every time.

“Who cares! I tell everyone we’re basically siblings” Ace replied. He snaked his arm off of you and placed them behind his head. You watched him effortlessly wave and greet random students that you’ve never seen. His popularity was too much for you.

You felt your back being pushed into your designated classroom. You saw a few students already in there chatting with their friends. Luckily, you had another friend share your class.

“I’ll see you in gym, Ace” You’d sigh. Ace drummed you shoulder in response and hooked into a group of guys that you were slightly fond of. It was his basketball group.

The rowdy boys were irrelevant to you, only knowing them from your friend. You jerked your body into the classroom and sat next to the pink haired, gothic looking girl.

She perked her head at you with a smile, you reciprocating it back.

“Morning, (F/N)!” Perona smiled. You eyed her attire and was taken back by how much effort she’d put into it every day.

“Morning, Perona” You sat at your assigned desk that was right next to the gothic girl. You slung your backpack behind your chair.

“I saw you were with Zoro the other day. How’d that go?” You asked as you rested your cheek on your palm.

“It was rather nice, we bumped into each other while he was struggling to find his way back home” Perona explained. You snickered at Zoro’s awful sense of direction, which was a widely known thing throughout the school.

“Then Mihawk wanted to be a party pooper…” Perona grumbled. Perona was closely related to Mihawk. He was basically her father.

“Right, sounds pretty lame of him” You replied. Perona shrugged and fondled with her bright, pink locks.

“I had fun with Zoro anyway, he’s rather cute” She winked. All you could do was roll your eyes with a smirk.

More students began to flood in and fill in the isolated seats. The room went silent as the teacher began to talk on and on about whatever lesson involved Physics.

You scribbled necessary notes on your notebook. You were a little scholar, but you didn’t like it. You despised school and the tsunami level stress it accompanied with it. The room was blessed by the loud school bell saying it was time to transition.

Perona rose her body and sighed in relief.

“(F/N), do you want to go to a bakery someday after school? A new one just opened and I think you’ll love it!” She gleemed. You packed your notebooks away in your back pack, raising your body from the seat.

“Uh, sure” You shrugged. “Hopefully I’m not backed up on homework”

You received an eye roll from Perona.

“You’re never backed up…” Perona giggled, walking away from you.

You sighed and followed behind her to exit the now empty classroom. You peered over your shoulders to expect to see a tall, orange jock but nothing. You exhaled in relief.

“Ace must be caught up doing whatever…” You mumbled.

You felt your shoulder crash into a body, fumbling your balance but not toppling over. Sure the traffic was pretty heavy but not that heavy to completely shove someone. You glared at the culprit only to receive one back. It was taller, raven haired boy. The interaction was so quick that you barely caught a glimpse of him besides his agitated expression.

“Watch it” He snarled.

His remark made you growl in her chest. You didn’t hesitate to jerk her body the other way to keep it moving. ‘What an asshole…’ You thought.

Your morning had only just started and it was nuisance upon nuisance non stop. Annoying teachers, classmates and people walking too slow in the hallways. Soon enough, your more cheerful personality began to seep through your grouchy, morning demeanor. It was basically whiplash.

The afternoon crept which meant lunchtime was starting to begin. You stood by your locker to grab your home-prepped lunch your mother lovingly packed. Kumi usually sat with the brothers for lunch, but considering Ace and Luffy both have different groups besides their own, you just sat with Sabo instead most of the time.

“(F/N)! (F/N)!”

A voice called behind. You snapped your head to the person only to see a red shirt boy sprinting straight toward you. To your surprise, the blonde wasn’t there.

“Luffy?”

“Ace is about to get into a fight in the cafeteria!” Luffy panicked, which was unusual because Luffy is always down for a fight. You’d think he’d jump in by now considering it was his brother.

Your eyes widened at the news. Ace was so well liked, no one would dare to pick a fight with such a charismatic guy. You opened your mouth to at least try to muster up a sentence, but Luffy was impatient.

With a tight grab on your wrist, you were yanked towards the cafeteria with maximum speed. You hadn’t realized how fast Luffy was until now…

“Luffy! Wait a sec-!”

Luffy bursted through the doors that revealed a crowd circling around. You could faintly see a bright, orange cowboy hat through the crowd of nosy people. Luffy pulled you to the front of the crowd.

Ace stood in front of a random student proudly. His expression was serious. It was foreign for you to see such a fiery expression on his face. The random student watched him with petrified eyes.

The other guy, which seemingly started the fight from the beginning, had red hair and a punk-like aesthetic. He was known as Eustass Kid, who was also fairly popular. Kid was somewhat a hotheaded guy who thinks everyone is out for his throat. You were barely surprised.

“Leave the guy alone, Kid” Ace said. His tone seemed annoyed, as if this wasn’t the first time he stated this.

Kid stepped forward to Ace intimidatingly, but Ace didn’t flinch. He didn’t move a single millimeter. He just glared up at the pink guy with eyes ready to punch.

“Don’t make me punch you to the ground, “Fire Fist…” “ Kid mocked. Ace didn’t say a word, just a menacing glare.

The cafeteria was silent. So silent you could hear a pin drop and it’d echo. Some students whispered amongst each other, and some whipped out their cameras to record the tussle. You hesitated on doing something, it’d be embarrassing to get in the middle of this.

Luffy, on the other hand, was itching for a fight but to your surprise he stayed in the sidelines. You assumed that he received a scolding from Ace to pipe down. Luffy would only cause more trouble.

“Seriously, Ace you don’t-“

“Shut up!” Kid spat.

The kid behind Ace jolted at Kid’s hoarse voice in terror. Ace finally shoved Kid away after his sinister demeanor. The crowd gasped.

“Piss off! They didn’t do anything to you!”

Ace had his fists clenched while Kid smiled devilishly. He cracked his fingers and rose his arm only to contact his big fist into Ace’s face. He grunted, stumbling on his body from the impact.

The crowd roared in shock, Luffy just tensed up at the sight of his brother getting decked in his face. You inhaled sharply.

Ace smirked and rubbed his face. He tanked it like a pro, only a red mark on his cheek. Ace stretched his arms while letting out a hearty chuckle.

“Now you just gave me a reason to kick your ass”

In a blink of an eye, Ace reciprocated Kid’s kind gesture which caused an ongoing fight between the two boys. You jolted your body to try to pull Ace off of Kid but felt a lingering hand grip her arm.

“I got yelled at, what makes you think you won’t” Luffy grumbled. Your assumption was right, and you could only sigh in defeat. The crowd roared and cheered the two boys on, mostly them going for Ace. You could clearly see the levels of popularity they both carried.

“Enough!”

Finally, a teacher ran through the absurd crowd to pull off Ace and Kid from nearly killing each other. You made direct eye contact while blood was spilling out of Ace’s nose, but he has a prideful smile on his face. Meanwhile with Kid, he looked livid. He wasn’t ready to conclude the fight.

Teachers proceeded to push the students away and to get back to their regularly scheduled lunch wave, but you protested.

“Ace!”

You called out and broke through the wall of teachers. You stumbled in front of him, analyzing his injuries. It wasn’t anything serious, but that bloody nose was concerning.

“I totally won that…” Ace grunted, a smile still plastered on his face. You had the urge to slap sense into his dense brain but couldn’t due to obvious circumstances.

“Right, and you’re totally injured” You raised a brow. Ace was being apprehended by a staff member until another one pulled Kid away, who was cursing at Ace with a huge chest.

“You have to go, girl” A teacher glared. You glared back and grabbed Ace’s hand.

“Can I take my idiot friend to the nurses office first? Look at his nose!” You spat only to receive a shake of the head. They pulled you aside to see Ace get escorted away from the cafeteria.

You snapped your head to whoever was trying to escort you away from the middle of the cafeteria. The irritation from the staff was about to leach onto whoever grabbed you but you instantly calmed down when you were met with orange locks.

“Stupid teachers…” Nami grumbled under her breath.

You and Nami weren’t close, nothing compared to you and Ace, but still nice friends either way. You were slightly fond of Luffy’s small group. They’d often nickname themselves ‘The Strawhats’.

“Well he’s definitely getting suspended for some time” After Nami brought you to her table, they all adjusted in their chairs. They all had food sitting in front of them.

You sat in an empty space in between the long nosed kid and muscle, blue haired jock. Franky greeted you with a loud laugh while Usopp was much calmer.

You had felt a hand rest on the back of her chair, causing you to turn to finally see Sabo. Sabo had an amused expression while Luffy looked through the roof beside him.

“What even happened?” You finally asked. Nami rested her cheek on her palm and shrugged.

“I had just arrived when the fight sprouted”

Sabo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ace was trying to protect that student” He finally replied. Everyone grew silent to listen to Sabo explain.

“Apparently Kid was bothering them and Ace decided to intervene. The whole ordeal happened in a span of a few minutes though” Sabo explained. His tone seemed tired, either he was exhausted from scrambling his brothers together or because of the frequent fame overshadowing him.

“Not surprised…” You exhaled.

“He sure does know how to cause a crowd” The moss haired guy stretched his body to seemingly take a nap in the middle of the lunch wave. The blonde that sat next to him looked agitated.

“Say, why are you and Ace so close?” Nami asked you with a smile, you perked your head up at the sudden question.

“Well, he’s been there ever since I moved here. I guess I was just glued to him” You tapped your nails on the table. You watched Nami nod.

“When I see Kid, I’m gonna punch his red face!” Luffy huffed, his clenched fists on his chest. He received a small slap on his head by Sabo.

“No, you’re not… Garp already has to deal with one of you idiots, don’t make it worse” Sabo lectured. Luffy’s puffed cheeks and puffed up anger soon deflated like a sad party balloon.

“Yeah, Luffy,” Usopp folded his arms. “And you’ll probably drag us down the hole with it” He added.

Luffy tussled back and fourth with his group as to why he shouldn’t take matters into his own hands and you’d listen. You couldn’t lie, the scenery was quite amusing. Your phone buzzed, causing you to jolt.

Ace - 12:45 PM

in the nurses office lol! probably gonna get my ass scorched at home

You giggled humorously at the message and decided to pay the fire boy a visit before he’s kicked off on an early vacation. You abruptly got up and excused yourself.

“I’ll see you guys in a bit, just have to do something” You announced. You received a mixture of goodbyes and okays as you turned your body away from the group. You could faintly hear their voices bicker and chatter from behind.

The hallways were quiet, considering the school was tucked inside the cafeteria eating their hearts away. It wasn’t a long walk to the nurses office, so you were there before you knew it.

“Any visitors allowed?” You asked the secondary nurse in charge with a smile. The nurse sighed in defeat.

“Only for a short moment…” The nurse swung the door open to let you waltz inside.

The office was quite spacious, three resting rooms and their own bathroom. You’d questioned why they would have such a big nurses office.

“I assume you’re here for the boy?” The nurse asked.

After you nodded in agreement, she pointed to one of the three rooms with a blue ballpoint pen. Her face looked unamused and you immediately thought that she assumed you two were dating.

“(F/N)!” Ace said in a tired, hoarse voice. He had an ice pack on his head and a white strip along his nose. His right eye was slightly purple and his cheek was bruised. You thought this guy was beaten to a pulp.

“God, Ace…” You murmured as you approached the injured boy. He just chuckled as if nothing is happening.

“Don’t worry about me, worry about the other guy” He joked, but you just rolled your eyes and got a better look at his injuries.

“How long will you be away?” You asked with folded arms. Ace sighed.

“About a week”

“A week!?”

Ace shushed you after a hearty chuckle. You cupped your mouth in embarrassment, not realizing your pitched volume. You had received a slightly agitated look from the nurse outside.

“Yes, a week” Ace confirmed. You felt your heart sting. How were you going to feel annoyed every morning now?

“Don’t be a pest at home” You giggled.

“I’m deathly offended” Ace joked. “That’s actually my runt little brother who’s a pest” He referred to the scruffy boy he called Luffy.

“He told me you yelled at him before I arrived…” You began. You watched him scoff and roll his eyes.

“Yeah, I did”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want the kid to get in the same boat as me” Ace explained. He brought his feet up on the bed and rested his toned arms on his knees.

“It was my fight anyway, Luffy would’ve made things worse for himself” Ace continued. “Th’boy already goes through enough trouble…”

Ace looked sympathetic towards him. Deep down, he was a kind hearted brother that’d do anything to protect both of his loved ones. Despite his overbearing popularity, he kept the ones that truly mattered under his wing closely. You admired that.

“He’s pretty riled up now” You said with a grin. Ace laughed.

“Don’t doubt it!” He adjusted his ice pack. “Don’t let him do anything stupid though”

“I won’t-“

BAM!!

The nurse shrieked as a ball of pent up anger in a red shirt bursted through the doors with a childish laugh. You snapped your head out the glass window to see what catastrophe happened.

“Ace! Where are you?”

His scruffy voice echoed throughout the room. All you could hear was the nurse scolding at the boy, followed by a ‘Im sorry’ even though he was cheerfully laughing. Sabo seemed like he was chasing after the boy for hours, as he came inside breathing heavily.

“Luffy!” Sabo scolded angrily.

“You were saying?” Ace cooed up at you, your cheeks filled with embarrassment. It was embarrassing for you to even be friends with a ball of energy like Luffy.

Shortly afterwards, they both came in to talk to Ace. Sabo was pleased to see you there, keeping Ace company. Luffy cried to Ace about how he wanted to fight Kid to avenge him but Ace objected

“C’mon! I swear I’ll kick his ass!”

“I said no, moron! For once, use your brain!”

“I am! I’m using my brain by thinking about kicking Kids ass!”

“Luffy, I’m gonna kill you myself!”

Their tussle soon muffled out when you realized lunch was starting to end and their next set of classes were about to begin. You hugged Sabo goodbye, not wanting to interrupt whatever tough brotherly love Ace was giving Luffy.

Once you had exited the room, you crashed your head into a taller chest. Judging by his scent, this was a guy. Speaking of which, his scent was awfully familiar.

“Prick…” You grumbled as you pulled away to examine whoever rudely crashed into you. The raven hair. It was familiar.

“You again? Do you ever watch where you’re going?”

You could finally catch whoever this was that was progressively getting on each individual nerve on your body. He glared down at you with dark circles on his eyes.

“Can say the same for you, asshole…” You mumbled. All you could hear was the amused chuckle that came from his chest.

“Grow a few inches before trying me, sweetheart” With that, he shoved passed her and talked to the nurse. The nurses sour demeanor shifted as soon as the boy approached her. It seemed like that was her assistant, which was odd considering he was also a student.

You felt her eye twitch at his remark and was ready to be the second fight of the day but you choked back. You exhaled and just kept walking.

His rude statement echoed inside your brain. ‘How could he say it with such finesse? He said it in such a soothing tone, you’d forget he was even being a prick in the first place!’ You thought.

You stopped in your tracks for a moment.

“Did he have tattoos…?”

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔

✎ ❝ omg yayy the first chapter is out!! i originally had this story presaved in my notes with my personal one piece oc and decided to bring it here for everyone!! i will proudly announce that each chapter is planned out and ready to be written! i really hope i can finish this novel because i genuinely enjoyed simply writing the summaries. i hope the color dialogue wasn’t too confusing, tumblr only has so many colors lolll. anyway remember that requests are open and i’d love to hear whatever you luvies have to offer!! stay sweet!!❞

All licensing and ownership belong to Eiichiro Oda

#one piece x reader #op x reader #op #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar one piece #traffy #law fanfic #fanfic #x reader

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