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dollsuguru · 4 months

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black is the color of my true love’s hair

♡ your devotion to suguru is second to none - you would do anything for your beloved! bonded by true love, loyalty, & utter admiration, these are a few moments where suguru has been unbelievably thankful for you & smitten by your acts of love & service! (a story from my suguru geto: valentine’s day fic list!)

contents: f!reader, no curses au, reader is short/blushes/has hair that can be ran through with fingers! slightly suggestive, cursing, mentions of depression/anxiety/self-destructive behaviors. but i promise this is a soft, fluffy fic! it’ll make sense when you read it! dividers are from @saradika! w.c: ~ 11.5k

a/n: belated birthday fic for my beloved husband suguru geto <3 the title of the fic is based on a rendition of the song “black is the colour” by celtic woman! imo it’s the most loving & devotional song i’ve ever heard so i wanted to do a story based on those themes with my favorite black-haired man <3 MY true love <3 p.s. this is my first time ever writing an actual fic & it got a bit long because i got carried away so please bear w me! i hope you enjoy and happy valentine’s day! <3 MWAH!

it’s a simple action, really.

you tilt your head slightly to the right and lift your face up to gaze adoringly at him through your lashes, a mirthful twinkle dancing in your eyes. a soft smirk coupled with a light blush adorns your angelic features, a precious look, which suguru has come to be utterly enchanted by due to the loving action that follows immediately after.

you catch him off guard the first time you do it.

the first time you kiss suguru’s knuckles, he falters.

it’s the way that you do it. naturally & effortlessly, as if it’s like second nature, that causes suguru to stop in his tracks and dedicate all of his attention to you.

his mesmerizing gaze is directed at you, molten gold eyes inquisitive. irrevocably fond.

he attentively watches as you softly grab his large warm hand in your small cold one. his hands are slightly rough yet supple due to his religious use of the honey-almond handcream you bought him earlier in the week.

he notices, rather than intertwining your fingers with his own and holding them, you smoothly bring his hand up to your face, wrapping your digits loosely around the perimeter of his long slender fingers.

your thumb gingerly caresses his ring finger (the one that holds a devout vow of eternal love), your featherlight touch raising wonderful shivers across his body. with the utmost care, you delicately, as if he’s made out of precious china, brush your supple glossed lips against his fingers, relishing in the coolness of his promise ring that encases both his aquamarine birthstone & your own.

your low-lidded enamored eyes never leave his affectionately curious ones — both of you preciously holding the other ones gaze. eyes locked in a staring contest of love.

utterly content with his undivided attention, you gently press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

a sign of affection.

an act, a promise, of complete & utter devotion.

his pierced eyebrow raises slightly due to the suaveness of your actions. he tries to gather his bearings, his brain fuzzy with your actions — did you actually just do that?

suguru’s amber eyes widen significantly, soft black eyelashes fluttering like raven wings against the tan of his cheek that’s blushed with a hue of raspberry red. mouth slightly ajar in surprise, his silver lip ring glints like starlight in the sunset daze of the evening, while his pierced tongue is pressed against his own cheek to stop himself from becoming a bumbling, stuttering mess.

if he speaks — he wholeheartedly believes all that’ll tumble out of his lips will be unabashedly fervent divulgances of: “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

adoration blooms out of his ribcage like a meadow of daffodils, sweetness enveloping around his heart, soft ivory petals and sage green tendrils wrapping themselves delicately over his bones. he reckons that if you couldn’t hear his heartbeat hammering out of his chest before, you definitely can now.

it’s almost as if his brain is in clouds of cotton candy, his mind in a sweet haze of shock, love, & affection. he finds himself whispering airily, “why’d you do that?”

tenderly stroking away silky strands of ink-black hair that wisp around his ethereal face, the fond smile you grace him with is saccharine sweet, “i felt like it.”

unbelievably charmed, he can’t help the giggle that spills its way out through his mouth like honey, a syrupy-sweet sounding little thing. his shaky fingers cover his rosy lips slightly as he laughs bashfully. he’s a bit shy because of it, but you don’t think a sound has ever been so melodious to your ears. you’d get down on one knee to kiss his knuckles reverently as many times as he wants just to hear his laughter over and over and over again.

the way you see it, it’s as if you were put on this earth to devote yourself to him.

like a loyal knight kisses the ring on the hand of their king with the utmost veneration, you’d do the same. without question, worshipping the ground whereupon he stands like a faithful follower would do to a cult leader. you figure in all of the other multiverses, you’re ultimately doing the same thing as what you’re doing in this one: loving him — devoutly. earnestly. passionately.

if the look of ardent rapture on your face is anything to go by, suguru might faint with the rush of pure love & endearment that flows like nectar throughout his veins.

he feels his blush bloom over his warm face which rushes towards the tips of his pierced ears, a clear sign of you flustering him.

wanting to gain back some semblance of control of the situation, he puts on a poker face, a gentleness in his eyes & a fondness in his smile still shining through. his black-nail polished thumb grazes your soft wind-chilled cheek. a beacon of warmth. a caress of admiration accompanied with a well-maintained façade of smoothness. a comforting touch for the both of you.

“well, aren’t you just so sweet.” suguru can’t help the coo that escapes his cherry red lips when you look up at him with your precious doe eyes, “my pretty little baby.”

he softly pinches your cheek, admiring the soft plush. he cradles your cheek with the same hand, & carefully smoothes down your hair that’s been strewn around a bit by the evening wind with the other. suguru pats your head in a nurturing manner in the process, another fond coo escaping him when he sees you preen at the attention he gives you, affectionately watching you revel in the flattering treatment.

your eyes widen with joy, always keening with any praise he showers you with. “i’d like to think so! now come on sugu, your pretty little baby has a lil surprise for you!” you playfully wink at him, your smile beaming like sunshine.

your warm eyes map his stunning features reverently, memorizing his elegant visage. drinking in his otherworldly beauty. as if you could never get enough.

while you openly admire him, suguru does the same to you. he doesn’t think that he’s ever been this enamored by a human being before. you’re the center of his universe, and he can’t imagine his life without you. all he can see in this moment is: you. his intense gaze holds yours as he captures both of your cheeks in his warm gentle hands, enveloping himself in your space. the perfume he bought you for your birthday invades his senses, clouding his mind in a welcomed haze.

all he can think of at the moment is: you. you. you.

all he can repeat in his mind is: mine. mine. mine.

his eyes gleam with a newfound sense of desire, wanting to show you exactly what you mean to him. what you do to him.

his golden eyes that are now an onyx, dilated with desire, flit to your mouth. his thumb outlines your pretty lips that are begging to be devoured by his own. his right hand moves to cradle the back of your head, tilting your face up so he can comfortably take control. long, slender fingers splay across your hair, bringing you closer to him, slightly tugging the strands to hear and feel you gasp against his mouth. he presses his left hand against the small of your back, coaxing you further into his body, fusing you both together. not wanting to be even a millimeter apart. he just can’t get enough of you.

it’s like a magnetic gravitational pull when he presses a soft, sensual kiss against your glossy lips. the cold metal ball in his pierced tongue explores the wet cavern of your mouth, and he can’t help but moan softly into you, relishing in your warmth.

he prays to the stars above, hoping that he can convey his sincere love, desire, & admiration for you like this. he breathes life into you and you do the same to him. kissing you with such vigor & passion, he feels like melding your lips & souls together wouldn’t be enough. he burns with a hunger to become one with you. he pleads to the universe that the intensity of his desire and yearning is relayed to you — that you crave it, crave him as much as he craves you.

with the way he’s ravenously kissing you, and how you’re excitedly kissing him back, it seems like you certainly received the message.

suguru thinks it’s a little bit funny, but very much endearing, when you run around the living room like a bumbling fawn.

you zig-zag around the counter, making sure you pick up the purse that suguru got for you on your previous anniversary, an acrylic charm of your favorite anime character clinking against the metal fastenings. (another gift that suguru got you, begrudgingly he might admit, because who the hell is that toji fushiguro guy anyways…)

you double check that all the contents you need are inside: phone, charger, lip gloss, mini perfume, credit cards — AH! you run back to your room like a panther, not wanting to forget the most important thing you need for tonight!

he can’t help himself but laugh at your frazzled antics. “baby, you can calm down! we’re going on a picnic, it’s almost impossible for us to be late!” suguru admires your punctuality, he thinks it’s sweet how you never want to keep him waiting.

“FORGOT SOMETHING, I ALMOST DIED.” you rush back to him, big goofy smile on your face.

“baby… you’re heaving.” suguru covers his mouth, trying not to giggle out loud at how out of breath you are just by running a few feet. you’re so fucking cute.

“damn…” you huff out, hands on your knees, trying to get a deep breath in. “don’t call me out like that.”

he can’t help the laugh that bellows out of him, “sorry angel, now let’s go!” he places his large hands against your back, ushering you out the door quickly, “you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

walking you towards his black mercedes, he opens the passenger side for you. with both hands on your hips, you remind him that, “it’s a SURPISE!”

after around 45 minutes of both of you jamming out to your playlist in the car, poking his cheek while childishly asking “are we there yet?” just to annoy him for fun, and ultimately being a proper passenger princess who tells him to “just trust me!” when he asks where you two are going, you both arrive to your destination.

and the sight that he sees, enthralls him. he whistles, beguiled by the view. from here, he can see how pretty and bright the stars are, it almost looks like they’re twinkling a “hello!” at the both of you. suguru thinks to himself, a picnic here at night? he’s unbelievably mesmerized at how your brain works sometimes.

he turns to face you, watching how engrossed you are in your phone, tapping away incessantly. wanting your full attention, his fingers grab your chin gently to force you to look him. he jokingly purrs, “if you took me here to kill me, i’ll have you know… sitting on my face would be much easier. much more preferred.”

you raise your eyebrow questioningly.

“because… it’s dark and we’re in random clearing.”

you stare at him blankly. “okay, you’ve hung out with me waaaay too much because i literally said that pick-up line to you last week and now you’re blatantly stealing it… like a THIEF. and also? you drove us here. who the hell is gonna drive me back if you’re dead?”

his brows furrow and he pouts, annoyed that you didn’t fall into his arms and blush because of his (your) raunchy words. he turns away from you and opens his door to leave, brattily huffing out a, “hmph. shut up, dumbass.” with his head held up high in the air, he struts away pompously to the trunk, opening and closing it loudly. a picnic basket with food you both made together in one hand, and a soft quilt of constellations made by haibara & nanami for suguru’s previous birthday in the other.

how fitting.

you loudly snicker to yourself while getting out of the car, amused by your boyfriend’s spoiled antics. while suguru is front of you admiring the view and trying to find a spot to set up, you admire the view in front of you. whistling out a, “damn…” suguru scoffs at your flirty behavior and gives you the finger. you send an air kiss back, and he playfully swats it away.

when he turns away again, you smile to yourself dreamily. taking out your phone, you click a quick candid of him against the night sky, admiring at how he looks like a painting.

the cream of his sweater and the contrast of his cascading ink-black hair entrances you, the silver hairpin you got him during a couple’s trip to kyoto in the top of his bun. the dangling deep violet amethyst gem glints in the moonlight, making him look even prettier. he turns his head to the left, from here you can’t see his eyebrow piercing or his lip piercing since they’re both on the right side of his face, but you do see his eyebrow slit — a scar which you’ve softly traced over many times. his side profile allures you effortlessly, the angular bridge of his nose and the soft cupid’s bow of his lip offering up a beautiful contrast that is suguru: graceful yet strong.

shaking your head slightly, you break out of your trance.

you go back to the task at hand, opening your notes app and ticking off the word at the top of your list.

stargazing. ✔️

you remember suguru mentioned it in passing one day when you were both in the beginning stages of your relationship. it was on his date bucket-list ever since he could remember, and of course you wanted to be the one who would take him!

you guide him over to a little meadow overlooking the city. surrounding you both are beautiful moonflowers, their sweetness enveloping your sinuses. the air is cool and crisp, and in the distance you hear the faint chirps & buzzing of hummingbirds along with the faint caws of ravens. you’re proud of yourself that you were able to find a place this picturesque. (even to this day, you still have an urge to impress suguru in any way that you can.)

both of you sit on the quilt suguru sets down, the homemade cloth providing an extra layer of cushioning that you feel atop the softness of the grass.

you’re upon the hill clearing, close enough to the city that you can comfortably drive back while still seeing a few citylights from where you are, but far away enough that the light pollution wouldn’t interfere with the date you had planned.

“it’s pretty.” suguru glances at the view, praising you while taking out the tonkatsu sandwiches, pasta salad, & chocolate covered strawberries from your picnic wicker-basket. you pick up a bag of chips and start munching on it while he lays down on his back propped up on his elbows, opening up a banana milk to sip on.

“i’m glad you like it,” your words are muffled in between loud crunches and fast chewing, “i was worried we’d be attacked by a mountain lion or a swarm of bees or some shit.” you say honestly.

he blinks. “i wasn’t worried about that. but i am now.” he takes another sip of his banana milk in case it’s his last.

he sits up and picks up the tonkatsu sandwich, handing you the bigger half. “but seriously, how’d you find this place?”

you take the smaller half from his grasp instead, switching with him. taking a bite, you hum happily. suguru is such a good cook. he smiles at you fondly and you answer him, “i was searching up good places to look at the stars. out of all the pictures and reviews, this was the prettiest one.”

you look up at him and swear that you see an actual twinkle in his eyes.

“stargazing?” he pushes his bangs back behind his ear, leaning into your face. loudly repeating, “STARGAZING???” nose pressed against yours, an excitedly manic look in his eyes.

he throws his head back and waves his arms in the air, lamenting, “i should’ve bought a fucking telescope!”

he directs his gaze back towards you, pointing his finger at you accusingly while demanding, “we are coming here again in the future, okay? i’ll bring all of my astronomy gear: a telescope, binoculars, a constellation book, and oooooh! maybe i’ll also bring…” you unintentionally tune him out, looking at him adoringly with stars in your eyes.

this is what you wanted to see.

if you’re being honest with yourself, the best thing to experience in your life is getting to see suguru act genuinely excited. his eagerness to discover new things is infectious, and the man before you is the real suguru: dorky, eclectic, passionate.

the graceful, poised, & elegant man you see when he meets new people and the air of sultriness & suaveness he has when he takes you on fancy dates are utterly enchanting & beguiling, but you think that suguru you see before you now — the excitable nerd, is the most beautiful.

he flicks your forehead, breaking you out of your reverie. “have you been listening to a word i’ve been saying?” he scolds you while pinching your cheek extra hard.

“yeah, you want a telescope so you can look at the stars. also, you look really pretty… the stars ain’t got nothin’ on you.” you rest your chin in your hand, smirking at him, reveling in the blush that paints his cheeks. it was just the cold wind!, he’d tell you later while playfully smacking you upside the head.

you continue, “plus, it’s really hot when you’re all stern and tellin’ me off. what’s my incentive to listen to every word you say if i can get you scoldin’ me instead?” you tilt your head against your hand, grin wide, teeth bared. the masochist in you wants him to scold you even further.

he crosses his arms at you, muscles bulging out of his cream cableknit sweater. your eyes drink up the adonis right in front of you, mentally undressing him. “instead of hitting on me, how about i explain all of the constellations to you in extreme detail?” he purrs to you while biting his lip. he flips his hair over his shoulder, sultrily looking at you. you see right through him of course, knowing that he’s appeasing to your attraction to him just so he can ramble about ursa major, ursa minor, & the big dipper.

frankly. it works.

he holds his hand out to you. a truce.

you shrug. “if you do it like a hot stern professor, then sure.” you both shake on it.

he rolls his eyes playfully, trying to stop the smile that threatens to creep up on his face. “ugh. fine. be quiet and come over here.” he picks you up underneath your thighs and puts you in between his legs. your back pressed against his warm, sturdy chest. he kisses you on the head, appreciative of your indulgence of him.

you giggle cutely and move yourself down, laying your head in his lap while he softly plays with your hair. his lovesick gaze, fond smile, & warm thighs envelope your body, filling your senses with suguru. he leans down and presses a soft kiss against your forehead, an addicting contrast of his cold lip ring & warm soft lips electrifying your skin.

he pops a single chocolate-covered strawberry in your mouth, and you playfully nip his finger. he traces your lips softly and starts playfully lecturing you about the constellations that grace the night sky.

he excitedly points at a cluster of three bright stars, “and that is orion’s belt!”

you point at a bright star in the night sky a few lightyears away from it, grin unbelievably wide.

“i think you might be missing one, babe. and you call yourself the modern-day galileo. heh.” you playfully tease him.

suguru rolls his eyes, “okay first of all, i have never called myself that. second of all — excuse me?” his scoff is slightly haughty, & he can’t help the indignant laugh that escapes out of him. “alright, since you know so much — enlighten me then, what’s that one called?”

“hmm… i believe it’s sugurugeto-020390.”

suguru’s eyes widen ridiculously like flying saucers.

“what?”

you push yourself out of his grasp to pull out a certificate from your purse and hand it to him. you sit next to him cross-legged, gauging his reaction.

“trust me, i wish i could get a better name for it, but it turns out there’s a lot of suguru geto’s in the world.”

pausing for a moment, you want to make sure that your boyfriend knows that he’s the only suguru geto on your mind.

giving him bedroom eyes, you purr, “none like you of course.”

he blinks. “what?”

your face falls comically, and you pout, “that bright star in the sky is yours.” you point at it haphazardly. “you’re the light of my life, you illuminate my life, you’re the sole star and center of my universe, blah blah blah… so i figured… ya know…!” you gesticulate wildly, and in the moonlight suguru can see the slight blush on your cheeks. your eyes looking everywhere else but his own.

you’re shy.

he can feel the sinus pressure building up against his nose and the tears glaze over his eyes.

you scratch the back of your head, trying to save face. you quickly backtrack, “i know it’s a bit cheesy and honestly, technically, this was probably a scam, but i figured it was the thought that counts and–”

“shut up.”

you look up at him in a state of shock, “HAH???”

he grabs your cheeks, his silver rings cool against your face, and smashes his lips against your own, teeth slightly knocking against yours. in his excitement, he pushes you down and straddles you, pinning you down to the grass — his body a comforting weight on top of you. he kisses you breathlessly, moaning loudly in your mouth. you can both taste the fruitiness of the strawberry on each others tongues, your own being pressed softly against his piercing. you pull away softly, needing to take a breath.

and the sight above you is one you don’t think you’ll ever want to forget.

suguru’s seductive low-lidded gaze is locked on you, parts of his bangs wisped across his face from the momentum of pouncing on you. he’s breathing heavily, and you can feel his rapid heartbeat hammering against yours, his nipple piercings slightly poking into your chest. a rosy blush spreads itself on his cheeks like a strawberry jam, and you don’t think any view could compare to the one you’re blessed to see now.

his lips are red and glossy, aching to kiss you again. you nod softly, begging him to continue. he slots his lips back with your own, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue before he bites down sensually, groaning loudly when he hears you whimper. he curls an arm underneath your body while kissing you passionately, bringing you closer to him, enveloping you into his space. all you can think about in this moment is: suguru. suguru. suguru.

pulling away once more, and peering deep into his amber orbs, you think that his eyes carry the most beautiful stars. a milky way of ochre and obsidian.

never casting your fond gaze aside, you intertwine your hand with his, bringing it to your lips, kissing each knuckle fervently.

his alluring gaze follows your devoted actions. butterflies brush their wings together inside his stomach, the flutter erupting throughout his whole entire being. he thinks that in the moonlight, underneath the canopy of stars that…

you are the most brightest.

the most beautiful.

the most meaningful.

“honey! i’m hoooooooome!”

you feel unbelievably ecstatic that you can finally get to see your dear boyfriend after two weeks of being apart!

you already have the whole day planned out, perhaps you two can get takeout from your favorite local restaurant and watch anime together! you giggle happily to yourself while thinking about how you both can snuggle and have a cozy day in.

you take your shoes, coat, & purse off by yourself, wondering if suguru is out. usually by the time you’re at the door, suguru is already there welcoming you back with a massive kiss and a “missed you baby.” softly whispered in your ear, especially if you go on a long trip…

hmm, that’s a bit odd.

now that you’re looking around…

the apartment is in complete disarray.

it looks like a tornado blew through the whole place.

you shuffle in further… and dirty dishes are piled in the sink, overflowing dangerously. suguru’s clothes, random knick knacks, and pillows are strewn about as if he threw them all in a fit of rage. crumbs litter the carpet and you see what looks to be dirt tracks on the floorboards. the laundry is stacked high and the air is stuffy, it seems like no windows were opened in the time that you were away.

worriedly, you run into your shared bedroom.

suguru is there, thank god safe & sound, but what you see breaks your heart.

he’s laid face down, the left side of his cheek smooshed into the pillow, black tear tracks staining the fabric… he must’ve cried on a day when he went out? the bedroom is filled with dirty clothes on the floor, and you’re pained to smell the stench of cigarettes in the air. it’s light… maybe he only smoked one… but the fact that he felt the need to smoke at all, shattered your soul.

especially considering he quit ages ago when he started dating you.

you walk towards him lightly, not wanting to scare him off. his eyes are open and he looks at you… but he’s not really looking at you.

“you alright there, precious?” you softly whisper.

a perfunctory question. you know he’s not. he knows he’s not. but you know he’s in no state to answer any questions that you have.

“mhm.” he hums quietly. lethargic, not even having the willpower to answer with anything but a light rasp.

you brush back his bangs, and he shudders. his hair is greasy, oil-black hair clumping together in some places, matted in others. his lips are slightly chapped, a bit bloodied no doubt from his habit of biting his lip when he’s anxious. his fingernails are no stranger to the same action, stubbed and jagged down to the nailbed, his black nail polish chipped. bright amber eyes which often have a gentle look in them have turned into a dull ochre, obsidian pupils overtaking his irises.

they’re still gentle because he’s looking at you… but if you’re being honest with yourself, his eyes remind you a bit of a black hole right now.

vacant of light.

you press a soft kiss against his forehead and leave the room momentarily, thinking to yourself if anything can be done about this situation.

you decide to shoot satoru a quick text, seeing if he can help you out a bit with what you want to do.

you breathe out a sigh of relief, a small smile gracing your face. you can always count on satoru. the man may be silly and eclectic, but at the core of his being, he’s someone who will always take care of and look out for his friends. he’s the type of person to drop anything to help those that he loves and adores.

(sometimes you think that satoru really was an angel put onto earth.) (but then you think that he was probably cast out of heaven for being a little shit.) (regardless, you still fucking love him for it.)

you walk back into the room, and lay your head against your pillow that is next to suguru’s. (it smells like him… he must’ve hugged it while you were away.)

cradling his cheek, you quietly say, “satoru’s also back from his business trip babe, he’ll be coming in about 10 minutes. how about you get a bit of sunshine with him, hmm?” he blinks slowly, nodding softly.

you hold his hand to help him up out from the bed, but he shoos you away, admonishing you slightly, “i can do it myself.”

you nod and leave him to it, mentally preparing yourself for the behemoth cleaning task ahead when he leaves.

suguru pads slowly into the bathroom and puts his hair up in a high ponytail with a hairtie he stole from you, not wanting to deal with it. he washes his face and gets a wet rag to pat down his body and underarms, not having the energy to shower. putting on a random black sweatshirt, he douses himself in your favorite cologne of his. he puts on your strawberry lip balm while popping a piece of mint gum in his mouth. with a tired sigh, he exits the bathroom, dragging his feet to where you are at the door.

he kisses your temple gently. you plant a soft kiss against his knuckles. you think your eyes deceive you when you see a semblance of a twinkle in his eyes. “love you baby. i’ll bring you back somethin’.” he rasps out softly.

even in his darkest times, even when his mind is playing tricks on him, he’s still thinking of you. wanting to take care of you. desiring to show his affections towards you in any way that he can.

you simply want to return the favor.

satoru arrives, wearing a crisp white button up and black tinted glasses, his snowy white hair shining like starlight thanks to the sunbeams that hit him. he hugs suguru gently, placing a soft kiss against his temples. suguru, dressed in all black just nods his head lightly at him. he’s not really interested in going out but knows that you two will force him regardless, reminding him that getting sunshine and looking at different scenery is important.

as they get into the car and back out of the driveway, suguru waves lightly at you, eyes tired yet gentle. satoru winks at you, proud & thankful that suguru has someone that cares so deeply for his mental, emotional, and physical wellbeing.

waving them both a goodbye, you go back inside and put on your cleaning playlist, ready to get started.

the first thing you do is open up the blinds and windows, wanting to air out the stuffiness that had built up over the past two weeks. considering the fact that suguru got a tinge paler and his undereyes looked sunken, you don’t think he got even a single beam of sunshine or any semblance of fresh air in the time that you were away.

padding over to the kitchen, you begin by doing the dishes. wearing your matching baby blue dishgloves, you get to work. it seems like suguru got anxious by seeing all the dishes piled up and started using some paper plates, which would explain the overflowing trash as well. the dishes are caked with food, but soften a bit by dousing them in water along with spritzing a powerwash grease-lifting spray. you sigh happily, glad that this will make it easier. after washing, drying, and putting away the dishes, you turn your attention to the kitchen surfaces.

you wipe down the counter and dining table in circular motions with a lemon-verbena spray, disposing of any old particles of food and random dust that lay upon the surfaces. already in your cleaning mode, you start to feel a little bit more energized.

opening up the refrigerator, you see that it’s been practically untouched. unfortunately, you gag when you smell rotting veggies and fruits, promptly rushing to your kitchen cabinet to get your trash bag to toss any old food away. you mentally remind yourself to get groceries in the morning, maybe if suguru is feeling a bit better after today you both can go together!

walking into the living room, you get your cleaning towel to beat the dust out of all the furniture. usually you & suguru both start with the bedrooms, but this time you figure you’d start with the living room as it’s in a bit of a better shape than the bedroom.

after you finish beating the living hell out of your cushions, you get to swiffering, mopping, and vacuuming — humming and singing loudly to suguru’s favorite songs on your shared cleaning playlist.

you go into the bedroom and start by gathering all of the clothes on the floor and the ones in the hamper to put inside the washing machine. you look around and do the same with the bedsheets and pillow cases, rubbing the eyeliner out of suguru’s pillowcase with some makeup remover first.

cleaning out all of the drawers, you make sure to throw away any random trash and only keep what’s necessary. clutter bothers both you and suguru, so you do your best to try and minimize that. you pick up empty bottles off the nightstand and throw them away. at least he drank a bit of water.

turning your attention to your bookcase, you wipe down the multitude of pictures of you & suguru that he put in frames.

there’s a few of both of you smiling after going on cute dates — suguru’s grin unbelievably wide while flipping off the camera and holding you close to his chest as you laugh loudly. there’s ones of you gazing at him adoringly, your love for him seeping out of the picture. there’s others of him looking at you — a soft fondness in his eyes, an even softer smile gracing his lips, his affectionate gaze tuning out anyone and anything else that isn’t you. both framed and pinned to the wall are multiple candids you two took of one another when the other wasn’t looking or paying attention, bursts of love immortalized in random moments of time.

you tell yourself that the sniffle you do is just because of the dust.

clearing your throat slightly, you look around proudly. you’re done!

you spray each room with a cotton spray, inhaling the fresh linen scent happily. you light up a teakwood candle that suguru bought a few weeks ago in the living room and put a sandalwood diffuser in the bathroom, freshening up the place. you take a well-deserved shower, feeling properly clean and accomplished.

by the time you’re done, it’s around 5:30 P.M in the evening and satoru texts you that they’re on their way and will be back home in approximately 30 minutes.

you get a can of sprite, his preferred soda, out from the fridge and put it on the counter. you decide to place an order for takeout from suguru’s favorite local spot, one that sells cold zaru soba noodles, his favorite food. you place another order at his favorite bakery for matcha crepes, his most loved dessert. the zaru soba will come within an hour and a half, but the dessert will come sooner so you also order a flower delivery too — a cute little surprise which will come within the same amount of time as the crepes.

you figure that you’ll also do the same for satoru, a little thank-you present for when he comes back to his own apartment. you order a bouquet of narcissus & holly for him, internally hoping that he likes it. you also order all of his favorite desserts from his favorite bakery! knowing that he will happily fill himself up on raspberry macarons, strawberry cake, vanilla mochi, chocolate donuts, & zunda cream kikufuku to his heart’s desire.

walking back into the bathroom, you get the most important part of your night started.

suguru finds his heart a bit lighter when he comes back to your shared home. he didn’t want to admit it to satoru… but he actually had a fun time eating, shopping, and listening to his hilarious stories about his shitty business trip. he’d be lying though if he said that he wasn’t most excited to see you after a long, eventful day.

in his hand are a bunch of shopping bags from stores that satoru dragged him to — clothes from your favorite stores, accessories & bags that you most wear, shoes that you need, books & knick knacks that you like — all for you. he bought a few for himself of course, but he mainly wanted to spoil you. he can’t help the small smile that creeps up on his face when he thinks about how excited you’ll be to see the gifts he got you.

thinking back on it, the guilt and shame he felt in his heart when you first saw him earlier today ate him up. he didn’t even know why he was feeling the way he was feeling so strongly. it was coincidence that it coincided with your trip, and he made sure that he would sound fun and happy over text as to not worry you. it wasn’t until a few days from when you were actually set to arrive that he didn’t even have the energy to talk or text you.

hell, he didn’t even have the energy to keep the apartment tidy or keep himself in check either. another pang of guilt hits him like a freight truck. he concludes that he’ll give you a spa day so he can clean everything up, not wanting you to worry about the mess he made.

he knows from the bottom of his heart that you’d never judge him or make him feel small for feeling the way he felt, he just feels so bad that he couldn’t even muster up the energy to greet you the way you deserved to be greeted. to kiss you. to hug you. to have a delicious dinner together and snuggle with you.

but no. after a long trip you had to come home and be worried for him. have the apartment be in disarray, have to see him be in disarray. fuck, you were worried enough to call up satoru.

he swears to himself that he’s gonna make it up to you. he swears that–

oh?

what?

suguru’s eyes widen, hands weakly dropping his shopping bags on the floor.

the entire apartment, top to bottom, is spotless.

dishes done and put away. dining table clean. living room tidy. is that… a bouquet of daffodils, his birth flower, on the counter? he also sees the bag from his favorite bakery right next to it too…

he walks around, astonished, at how you’ve made the apartment look brand new.

he reaches the bedroom and sees that the bed is made. his clothes have been clean, dried, and put up in hangers inside his closet. the nightstand, dresser, and bookcase all spotless and wiped free of dust.

a fresh smell envelopes his sinuses. he swallows the lump in his throat. did you smell the single cigarette he smoked? it seems like you aired out the whole apartment. in front of him is a beautiful sunset that waves at him from outside. a sunray beam kisses his cheeks. suguru blinks and feels something wet trailing down his face… it tastes salty on his lips. but feels so warm and sweet.

“suguru?” your angelic voice calls to him.

he turns around and sees you. fresh and clean, a beacon of warmth and illumination. a light blush dusting your cheeks no doubt from all of the hard work you’ve done.

“i ran you a bath. you up for it?” you tilt your head cutely at him, a silent plea in your eyes for him to agree.

feeling like his voice will betray him if he speaks, he nods softly. grabbing his hand, you take him to your shared bathroom, also totally spotless. your hands are soft and small in his, warm for once, because of you taking a hot shower and checking the temperature of the water for suguru’s bath. a sandalwood scent envelopes his nose, no doubt from the diffuser you put inside. he sees the romantic candles and rose petals around the bathtub and he can’t help the smile that overtakes his face.

“for me?” he rasps, a teasing tilt to his voice.

“always. everything and anything i do will always be for you.” you say it seriously. genuinely.

to you, it’s a vow. an oath.

his eyes widen slightly, but he closes them momentarily, not wanting any more tears to spill. he crinkles his eyes and smiles at you softly.

“you joining me?” he undresses, taking off his sweatshirt and t-shirt. showcasing his tan skin, toned abs, & muscles. his nipple piercings & belly button piercing are on full display and he giggles lightly as you ogle at his body, watching your eyes trace his numerous tattoos & piercings, absolutely mesmerized.

“maybe next time,” you smirk, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “figured i could do a little pamper session, is that alright with you?” you ask him caringly, wanting to make sure that he’s comfortable with it first & foremost.

he fears that if he speaks any louder than a whisper, the love that overcomes him will drown his airways. he rasps out a small, “yeah.”

always. anything and everything you do will always be right for me.

he gets into the bath and you try to not let your eyes trail down, instead focusing your gaze on his dragon tattoo that encompasses his entire back along with the mythological japanese creatures that trail up his arms and ribcage like tapestry. you see one of your favorites, a black and white beta fish upon his ribs, submerged underneath the water he’s in.

from this angle, you can also see your name that he tattooed behind his ear. smiling to yourself, you sit behind him, ready to begin the pamper session.

his sloshes the rose petals around with his fingers. the water is warm, is his first thought. i wish you were in here with me, is his second.

your fingers stroke his hair softly, lulling him into a false sense of security, and then you get to work, vigorously rubbing in his lavender shampoo. he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. for some reason anytime you two would take baths or take showers together, you would always wash his scalp aggressively. “this is how i wash my hair sugu! what’s a little run through gonna do? we gotta keep clean!” did clean mean damn near ripping out his hair follicles? possibly.

he’d never stop you or scold you however, he thinks it’s hilarious and an endearing trait of yours. when he washes your hair he makes sure to be as soft and careful as possible, almost lulling you to sleep. when you wash his hair however, it’s like you’re turbowashing a pickup truck. he figures this time he’ll give you a pass (he always does) considering that he doesn’t think he’s washed his hair in around a week and a half.

“gonna rinse now, okay?” he hums quietly, closing his eyes.

this almost feels like a purification process to him.

you lather shampoo in his hair once again wanting to do a double cleanse, this time a bit more softly. you massage his scalp, and he tips his head back. you start from the crown of his head, working in circular motions, using your fingertips. then you go to the roots of his hair, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering.

you push his head forward slightly so you can clean the back of his head too, massaging the pressure points in his scalp. you were always a good masseuse, therefore a deep sigh escapes him, tension leaving his body by the second. (this might be the first time in two weeks where he’s been able to breathe comfortably.) you run your fingers throughout the clean strands of his hair, humming a little tune to yourself.

“they called me.” your hands still for second, but resume back to carefully twisting the water out his silky black hair. you stay quiet, knowing that when suguru speaks he prefers to get it all out there first.

“must’ve been like, what, two days after you left?” a humorless laugh escapes him. “they always know when to fuck up my mood. i swear.”

he sighs tiredly. “they went on a whole spiel about how i need to come back home and find a ‘real job’ as a hotshot lawyer or some fancy businessman, as if i don’t run my own tattoo parlor. as if i’m not also a real fucking businessman. like, do they think i don’t make any money? that i can’t comfortably take care of us both?” he rolls his eyes, getting annoyed again just thinking about how long the same repeated conversation had gone on.

suguru’s family is relatively well-off. he’s genuinely thankful that both him & satoru never had to worry about how to put food on the table or be worried about not being able to spoil the people that they loved.

it’s just that his parents were angry that their picture-perfect little boy wanted to spread his wings… see a world that had more to offer than quiet dinner table meals filled with tension and pointed jabs at one another guised as “caring advice.”

their image of suguru started to get distorted when he first showed up on their doorstep with his gauges. an act of rebellion. he could’ve worn small simple diamond studs but he wanted to make an impression: i’m my own person. even as a 13 year old boy, i can make this decision on my own. he remembers the way his father said he looked foolish. how his mother held her hand over her heart, in shock that her little baby boy had tainted himself in such a manner. what would others say?

suguru remembers looking in the mirror after the whole fiasco & thinking: god… they’d say i look so fucking cool.

then it started with sneaking out to go on late night drives with satoru, shoko, nanami, & haibara. they’d jam out to random songs on the radio, get slurpees & snacks, and sit in satoru’s car just talking about life and their future for hours. suguru still remembers the way his bangs wisped across his face, the crisp night air purifying his soul, the stars in the sky illuminating the landscape. the world seemed bigger those days and the gang were enjoying their teenage years. enjoying their youth.

he remembers coming home, his father waiting for him on the couch, pointing to the seat next to him, forcing suguru to sit down. his father’s arms crossed, black turtleneck making his muscles bulge slightly out of his sweater, his specs on the bridge of his nose making him look so serious. suguru found it easy to make eye contact with everyone in the world, but with his father he couldn’t help but look away sometimes… so he redirected his gaze to the tiny delicate beauty mark near his fathers right eye. a small little thing that made his father look a bit more… prettier. nicer. less daunting.

“where were you?” the timbre of his father’s voice rattled his bones. he muttered those three words quietly, but it still shattered suguru’s eardrums regardless.

“out. with my friends.”

he scoffs. “some friends they are.” a deep resounding ring of utter disappointment comes from his father’s words.

suguru sneers at the man, pissed that he would even think to disrespect suguru’s choice of friends like that. “yeah, they’re the best.” not an ounce of sarcasm lacing his words. his own mood dampened, nevertheless.

he recalls stomping all the way upstairs and slamming the door with all his might. sitting on his bed and resting his head against the window pane, eyes looking up at the same stars he saw when hanging out with his friends.

the stars seemed so far away from suguru’s room.

the world looked so big. suguru felt so small.

then one day, months later, suguru kissed a pretty boy. he can’t quite remember his name anymore, just that his lips were soft and his eyes were kind. suguru’s parents found out. his dad was surprisingly fine with it… he just assumed it was a phase, he went through the same thing as his son did when he was his age. his mother however… she just acted like it never happened the next morning. as if it wasn’t just a part of who he is.

his parents thought he was rebelling for the sake of rebellion. in actuality, it was suguru’s true self coming out. he was just getting more comfortable in his own skin. he was tired of being the picture perfect beauty who always was demanded of being polite, poised, & graceful. it was always too easy for him to put on a fake smile and manipulate others into doing what he wanted for the sake of his family’s reputation, it’s what he was taught. being at that house, it felt like he was kept on a tight leash, restricted from living his life. he felt caged like a bird…

but he just wanted to be free.

all he wanted was to just truly be himself in this world.

a kiss against his scalp breaks him out of his reverie.

right… he was here with you. he doesn’t have to spiral or worry anymore. you’re here. with him.

you’re here, you’re here, you’re here.

he shudders softly, taking your hand, holding it tight within his grasp. anger laces his next words, “they also said it’s time i get into a ‘real relationship’. whatever the fuck that means.”

you giggle. you know that his parents aren’t too fond of you. you’re not exactly of the same… class or status as them. at least that’s what suguru’s mother told him.

he huffs out a single dry laugh, “i’m glad you’re giggling about it because i nearly popped a fucking blood vessel screaming into my phone when they said that shit.”

“my protector.” you coo to him.

a light blush tinges his cheeks. always.

he presses a kiss against your palm. “i think it just made me… spiral a bit, y’know? reminded me of when i was kid and they made every little decision for me. i mean i’m a fucking adult now — i can decide what i do, who i wanna be, and who i want to be with.”

so when he got that phone-call from them on that day he was supposed to go to some rock concert… he did the one thing he promised himself he’d never do again. he lit a cigarette, and cried his eyes out into his pillow.

while sobbing, he remembered when he was in his early twenties and he’d sleep around with anyone and everyone, smoke blunts & cigarettes, go bar-hopping… do everything the picture-perfect pretty boy would never be allowed to do under his parents roof. his family just made him so miserable that he would do anything to not think of them.

he heard your voice in his head, reminding him, that instead of continuing on that self-destructive streak, he got his shit together. art & drawing was always his safe haven, so he found himself an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor, getting a job as a piercer and ultimately working his way up to being a tattooist. he owns his own place now — all his hard work & effort paid off.

his mind travels back to you. his true love.

ever since the moment he met you, he was mesmerized by your beauty, your personality, and your loving words & actions.

suguru’s heart and sobs only calmed down when he thought of you. his beloved. his angel. his reason to be. he hugged your pillow a bit tighter that night, imagining it was you.

“i’m proud of you, you know.” you say it so genuinely that it tugs on his heartstrings, making his heart skip a beat.

“you’ve been through a lot of shit with your parents, but at the end of the day, you chose to follow what your heart desired — not whatever they wanted. you’re successful in what you do and you made the right decision. it doesn’t matter what the hell they say, because they don’t know the effort and time it took you to get where you are.” you say it so passionately, that suguru believes every word that comes out of your mouth. his heart racing, thankful that somebody fucking understands him.

“you’re kind. you’re caring. you’re so unbelievably loving. you’re always looking out for others and helping anyone that needs it… you’re a good fucking person, suguru. i hope you know that and realize that. it doesn’t matter what anyone else says, you are good. what you do is good. who you are is good. it’s an honor to be able to love you and be with you. i hope you know that.”

for the first time in a while, suguru turns around and really looks at you. the way you bare your soul to him so effortlessly, the way you smile so sweetly at him, the way you make him feel like he’s your one true love.

“i’m so thankful for you. i love you… and i want to be with you, too. always.” his voice breaks a little, overcome with emotion.

suguru hugs you tightly, neither of you caring about the wetness on your clothes. suguru puts his entire spectrum of feelings towards you into the hug — an apology, a thank you, and a proclamation of love.

voice a bit shaky, he laughs, “sorry for getting you all wet. i know how much you hate drenched clothes.”

“you apologizing for getting me wet? now that’s a first.” you purr playfully, glad to see him in better spirits.

a loud laugh bellows out from suguru, deep within his gut. he kisses your lips preciously, and sits back down in the water, urging you to continue.

the mood now is far lighter. the air thick with a sweet steam.

you rinse his hair and gently put his lavender conditioner through his hair. massaging it in, running your fingers through his silky smooth strands. you put his hair up in a clip for a few minutes to let the product soak in. he washes it out himself while you start the shower, making sure you put in his favorite honey-almond bodywash. he gives you a silly yet oddly sultry show when he lathers himself and he promptly comes out, steaming and refreshed. you help him do his skincare routine, softly rubbing each and every product into his skin. he towels off and sits down, hairbrush in his hand, looking at you.

“here, let’s do this first.” you blow dry his hair, taking your time and allowing suguru to lull his head back onto your front, the soft black tresses of your beloved’s hair feeling much more revitalized in your fingers. you then brush his hair, gently, carefully. the entire time, you notice that suguru’s eyes are closed and he’s smiling to himself. you kiss him on the top of his head, and he turns to kiss you back. eyes closed, his lips puckered…

but just then, the doorbell rings.

“OOH! perfect timing!” you scurry off. you leave a pouting suguru who huffs out a little “hmph.” annoyed that whoever was at the door took a very well-deserved kiss away from him.

he patters softly to the kitchen where you’re setting out cold zaru soba noodles for him along with a can of sprite and matcha crepes. all of his favorites.

you hold a bouquet of flowers. daffodils.

“for you.” you curtsy, a mirthful twinkle in your eyes. he graciously accepts them from you, a shy smile and light flush across his cheeks.

“thank you.”

kissing his knuckles you whisper, “anything for you.”

for once in his whole entire life, suguru doesn’t think he can bear to look you in the eye. your adoration is so unbelievably intense, it feels like it’ll burn a hole inside his heart. does he deserve so much goodness in his life?

“you deserve more than what i can give you. i’ll spend my whole life making sure you realize that, suguru.” you say to him honestly. “if you’ll allow me of course.”

he kisses you on the lips softly, hoping that you can feel how thankful and lucky he is that he has you. “likewise.”

he clears his throat. “okay, c’mon. i’m starving. i wanna watch that stupid anime and shit talk that hot guy you like on screen while we snuggle.”

“he’s the best character, suguru!” you huff indignantly. clearly he can’t be talking about thee toji fushiguro???

“babe. he SUCKS.”

he knows you so well, he muses to himself.

he knows how your breath hitches after he nuzzles his lips against the curve of your neck, that the skin is sensitive there, but not as sensitive as your right ear. he knows that because of the way your knees buckle as he whispers soft romances to you, intense shivers overtaking your body. he makes sure that his arm is always wrapped tender yet firmly around your waist when that happens, trapping you against his unyielding body.

he knows what makes you tick. on the rare occasion that you allow your emotions to overcome you, he knows how to comfort you. he leaves you alone for a few moments so you’re able to gather your thoughts & assess your bearings, and then he invites you into his warm embrace. he lets you lay your head in his lap as he strokes your hair gingerly, easing your soul with both honest and kind words. adorning your face with soft kisses and even softer caresses. a cocoon of protection.

it seems like these days, however, he hasn’t had a proper grasp on you. you can’t hide a single thing from him, he knows that you would never willingly do so either.

it’s not like you want to anyways — not that you intend to, at least.

but it’s an aching feeling in his chest, nonetheless.

earlier in the week, you’d softly shut your bedroom door whenever you saw him, pretending as if you couldn’t see each other… as if he wasn’t there. it’s moments where he found you haphazardly digging for shit in your drawers, tucking whatever it was into your pockets and padding away softly to your room. you’d stay in there for hours, only coming out when he knocked on your door to tell you dinner was ready. he heard lots of rustling and you pretended as if you were just chilling in there, as if nothing was going on. sometimes when he knocked on your door to see what you were up to, all he heard back was an “i’m busy, baby! i’ll be out soon!” then it became even more odd, you’d quickly shut off your phone whenever he came into the room and would plaster a bright smile at him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

he sighs to himself. he trusts you. he loves you. he knows you’re not doing anything heinous.

but… why won’t you tell him what’s bothering you? don’t you trust him to fix whatever is wrong? it eats away at his mind & soul that you think you have to hide whatever it is that’s taking you from him. don’t you know that he’d drop anything for you? that’s what being in love is for, right?

his eyes peer at you from the couch, studying you. he calls out to you softly, “angel. can we talk, please?”

a statement posed as a question. he knows this. you know this. you answer regardless.

“sure.”

you walk towards him, intentionally adding a lackadaisical swagger to your steps. to fool him. you know it won’t, he knows it won’t. but suguru isn’t anything if a man who doesn’t indulge his beloved.

he pats the seat next to him on the couch. inviting. as if he’s giving you a choice, even though you know you have none at the moment. “sit next to me, my love.” his smile is taut like a string, amber eyes shut closed so you don’t bear witness to the tears that threaten to spill.

he knows you’re hiding something.

he doesn’t like not being in the know.

is it something he did?

is it something you did but are too afraid to tell him?

since when were you afraid of him?

were you always–?

in the few seconds it takes you to sit down, a myriad of questions race through suguru’s head, creating a spiral of untamable negative thoughts. you would talk to him if something was wrong, right? you both have a healthy communication and always talk things over with each other… so what’s different now? do you not trust him?

suguru chastises himself, thoroughly.

of course you wouldn’t want to speak to someone like him.

always the overthinker. always the nagging negative nancy. always the manic-depressive.

sometimes suguru fears that he acts more like a father to you rather than a boyfriend.

that he’s a bit suffocating. too intense. very overbearing.

a warm hand engulfs both of your small, cold ones. he hopes that it comes off as sweet, as caring. because he himself is sweet and caring.

at least he hopes he comes off like that.

“is everything alright, sweetheart?” a soft whisper. he speaks placatingly to you like you’re a newborn fawn and any loud noises or large movements will make you jolt and run away. “i feel like… you’ve been avoiding me recently. and…” he takes a deep breath. “listen, i don’t know if it’s something i did, but you need to tell me, okay? you have to tell me so i can make it better.”

he thinks he sounds nurturing. kind. paternal.

he also thinks he sounds so fucking condescending.

he closes his eyes and a picture of a man darts across his eyelids like an overdeveloped photo.

strict, heavy-handed, cutthroat.

paternal and protective to a fault. a man who was always “right” even when he was wrong.

an “apathetic” man who bore a child who thought too much – felt too much.

a flash of a sophisticatedly handsome man with obsidian shoulder length hair, serious low-lidded eyes, and a firm closed mouth sears itself across suguru’s brain like a charred photograph.

he flings away the afterimage as quickly as it came. pretending as if he never even thought of it.

he gulps, swallowing the fireball in his throat. god, he really doesn’t want to be like… him. having a majority of his features is enough, he does not want to inherit that man’s personality.

suguru absentmindedly rubs the slit in his eyebrow, his grip unintentionally tightening on your hands. he releases moments after, not wanting to cause you any pain.

“everything is fine with me sugu, i promise you.” you reassure him. “it wasn’t my intention to avoid you or make you feel like you did anything wrong… i am so sorry if it came off like that.” you answer him honestly. your head is tilted to the side like a little puppy, brows furrowed, upset that you made him feel like you were trying to get away from him.

“no, no no no no no, baby it’s not your fault.” he quickly grabs your cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. he brings you against his chest, hugging you tightly. “don’t apologize honey, i’m sorry… i just got into my head a bit.” he quickly placates you and kisses the top of your head. you shouldn’t be the one to suffer because he started to anxiously overthink and spiral.

he looks at the time on his watch. it’s a few minutes past midnight. you both should go to sleep… maybe you can talk it over in bed or in the morning with clear heads.

you exhale softly, shaking your head faintly. you press a delicate kiss against the corner of his lips. telling him, “give me a sec.”, you walk over and into your room.

he nods and watches you saunter away, putting his head into his hands. god… him and his big mouth… he sighs, anxiety crawling up his throat once more. he really didn’t want to upset you or anything, he angrily tells himself to apologize to you when you get back.

hearing you shuffle closer to him, he lifts his head.

in your hands is a… huge book?

“i wanted to give you this tomorrow… well technically today, but i guess it doesn’t really matter.”

he tilts his head, confused. you present him with the thing you’ve been working so hard on.

you smile at him so softly, he thinks that his heart is about to burst. “happy birthday, suguru.”

birthday…? oh god, it is his birthday.

he gently takes the present from you… it’s a scrapbook.

“don’t look at it in front of me! okay, bye!” you quickly sprint into your room, not wanting to be in the room when suguru looks at such a personalized present.

blinking, he grabs his reading glasses from the coffee table, and opens the book, flipping through each page carefully.

photobooth pictures, polaroids, kodak film pictures, movie tickets from your dates, admission tickets from amusement parks he’s taken you to, and multiple candids of both him and you - many of which he hasn’t seen.

one of them looks awfully familiar… did you take this the day you took him stargazing in the meadow? his fingers brush against his trembling lips, trying to stop himself from sobbing.

is this what you were doing?

he feels so stupid.

but god… does he feel so fucking loved.

you’ve immortalized every single moment of your relationship with him. nothing being too small for you to be excited about, carefully keeping everything.

he sees the little pressed flower of a daffodil enclosed in wax paper on one of the pages, probably from the first time you gave him a bouquet. the first time anyone has presented him with flowers without wanting anything in return. when asked about the occasion, you simply shrugged and said “just felt like it” & then quickly kissed his knuckles, zooming out of his apartment to run errands. he remembers how bashful he felt. how thankful he was. how loved that experience made him feel.

he moves his glasses upwards, wiping the tears across his lashline and the ones that stream down his face. he clears his throat slightly, and continues flipping the pages. you’ve drawn little doodles (things that he’s already planning to get tattooed on him simply because they came from you) and you’ve written beautiful, personal messages. encapsulating your adoration for suguru in the margins — genuine words filled with your love, devotion, and admiration for him.

he sniffs loudly and tries to wipe his face the best he can. he tenderly calls out your name, beckoning you over to him, and you get up out of your shared bedroom to pad softly into his open arms.

“my love.” he stands up and walks over to you midway. he hugs you so tightly while pressing your head against his beating heart, his arms protectively enveloping you. the space between you two is nonexistent, and suguru surmises that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

conveying his thankfulness and love to you, he sweetly says, “my sweet, sweet girl.” a soft kiss pressed against your hair, “my heart beats for you, forever and always.” from anyone else it’d sound cheesy, but from suguru… you know he means it from the depths of his soul.

“my little dove.” he coos so fondly, sweet candied sugar dripping from every syllable. he holds your face in his gentle hands, openly divulging his admiration for you, “you’re so precious to me, you know that? i love you. i love you. i love you.” a tender kiss pressed against your soft lips between each proclamation of adoration.

you smile graciously, thankful and relieved that he adores your present and that he especially adores you. you knew out of any of your presents that you were going to give him today, that this would be the most meaningful. suguru has always been the ultimate sentimentalist, and you wanted him to know that you care for him so deeply. that you love him. adore him. that your heart beats only for him. pushing back a black tendril of your true love’s hair behind his ear, you kiss him gently. both of your lips fitting together perfectly — like a lock & key.

you bring his knuckles upon your lips, preciously kissing his promise ring, ensuring to him that your love and devotion runs deep, deeper than anything in this world.

“i love you too. happy birthday, my love.” his hands are so gentle. his face is so sweet. suguru… your one true love.

if you asked suguru to describe you in three words, he’d say you were: devoted. loyal. loving.

he has four more of his own on the tip of his tongue that he’ll ask to you when he musters up the courage.

with a soft kiss upon the ring on your knuckles, and an even softer smile upon his lips, he lovingly breathes out, “私はあなたを永遠に愛します”

#geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #belated b-day fic for my beloved ON valentine’s day… i’m a lover to my CORE. never think otherwise #if you listen to the song there are some callbacks to the lyrics in this fic itself :’) if you read this thank you & i hope you enjoy! :D #i edited the geto pic myself are you proud :3 fixed his hair + made it clear + spruced up the coloring <3 anything for MY man #my writings #personal

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dcxdpdabbles · 17 days

Note

Hi!

If you’re still doing these asks, do you mind maybe adding a part 5 to Passion for Fashion?

I would love to see how Danny and Red Robin’s impromptu date goes and Constantine’s reaction to all this.

And poor Killer Croc is so confused and uncomfortable around the twins, oh and not to forget Dan’s inner turmoil over losing a love interest because his body no longer matches his mental and spiritual age😂

I’d also love to see the reactions of the rest of the Batfam to Tim going on a date and their reaction to Dan’s flirting with Croc.

Your request came in after I had already written most of Part 5, but I hope I can include most of what you asked for in it and make it up with another Part of the Au for you.

Danny strutted down the runway, fighting to keep his gaze straight ahead as various flashes from cameras went off.

He mentally went through his checklist of proper catwalk tips that he watched the other day—or, more accurately, Dan forced him to watch from some free video website—ensuring his hands were relaxed, long strides were made, and his shoulders were firm but not stiff.

This was the contest's second round, with Tim Drake proposing the "Gotham Aesthetic" as the theme and challenge. Apparently, the teenage CEO spent most of his childhood taking photos of the city and wanted others to appreciate the architecture of the aged town.

There was no kidnapping attempt this time, and the contest was back on schedule. However, there was a delay because some of the models had dropped out after they were nearly sold (Dan called them cowards, but Danny personally thought they were wise to do so). Hence, fashion designers had to scramble for someone new or forfeit their position in the contest, allowing some eliminated to take their place.

It took nearly four weeks to confirm that the same designers were staying but would need to remake or adjust their outfits. Thankfully, Wayne Amature Fashion Show was more than willing to offer them time.

Dan had already made Danny's outfit but figured he would remake it anyway. Once completed, new designs were crafted, adjusted, and flung into an idea box. He created so many it was as if Dan were a man possessed (Pun intended).

Danny needed to figure out how much fabric he was going through, but sometimes, he had to remind the other to sleep, eat, and shower. It seemed the other kept forgetting he was human now and needed to do these things for his health and Danny's poor nose.

Dan also seemed obsessed with exploring new parts of Gotham just to take pictures of buildings to get "inspiration." Danny went with him as he had nothing better to do, and the pair made an unlikely duo.

Both got stares in the streets—Danny for strutting around Gotham wearing some of Dan's regretted challenge outfits in an effort to learn to catwalk in them and Dan for dressing as close to the homeless as he could. For all that Dan could make amazing pieces of fashion, the man only filled his own closet with mismatched joggers and pajamas.

Danny had to force him back to change at one point since Dan had intended to walk around in a bathrobe- with shorts and stained short sleeves underneath it. He drew the line on bathrobes.

It was so embarrassing to be gawked at all the time that Danny could not help but wish Dan would try just a little. This was somewhat worse than when he was alone because at least then he knew it was just how stupid and awkward he looked in the outfits.

Now, he just felt subconscious about trying too hard compared to Dan.

"Relax, kid," The other scoffed, snapping a picture of the Brown Bridge. "By the time you're my age, you honestly stop caring about what other people think, so long as you like how you look."

"Can't you at least comb your hair?"

"I forgot how to do that."

Danny snaps his head in his direction, blinking owlishly "What?"

Dan shrugs. "My hair was fire for a literal decade, brat. How was I supposed to comb it?"

"Oh," Danny supposes, that makes sense. After all, Dan was more ghost than human at that point, driven mad by his grief and a colossal monster. He sort of forgot that. "Do you want me to show you how?"

"Ew. No. Too much work. Humans are so high maintenance." Dan rolled his eyes and shifted his tone into a mocking one. Comb your hair, change your clothes, take a bath."

"You smell like shit, Dan."

"You look like shit!"

"We have the same face!"

"It's better on me!"

Their public arguments also attract lots of stares. Danny would feel embarrassed by them if he wasn't so busy bickering with Dan as they moved about.

Ultimately, Dan had made his outfits formal steampunk during the break. Danny wished he had stayed with the Dark Academia idea because he felt he was walking around in a costume instead of clothes.

Dan told him that it felt too basic to go with Dark Academia since, now that he saw more of Gotham, he thought it better represent the city as a whole instead of the elites of Gotham. Danny debated with him until he agreed to make two of the four outfits- meant to represent all four seasons of Gotham's beauty or something stupid like that- to be dark academia.

Danny nears the end of the runway, stopping right before the judges to strike his pose. His eyes never leave the center decorative flower in the far back, but he makes sure to slowly turn his head as if he is gazing at the crowd.

There are gasps as he pulls off his tophat in a twirl to hide the way he presses the button on his hip. At once, his pants and sleeves light up in the gentle glow of the Brown Bridge's famous historic lampost show. It's no brighter than his ghost glow, but it makes him look like a vision, especially when he puts the hat back on with a mysterious curl of his lips.

Danny practiced that move for weeks—even when it made him cringe—and he is happy to have pulled it off successfully as he twists around and struts away. The Brown Bridge only lights its lanterns in the winter, so this hits a true Gotham native here for the seasonal challenge portion.

With his superhearing, he manages to catch Tim Drake-Wayne's dreamy sigh. Danny fights the urge to fist bump. If they impressed the special judge so much, then they just guaranteed their spot in the next round.

Each round meant they were closer to completing the mission. Since it's been practically impossible to find Batman—even when the man was running around dressed like a giant bat—this was their best bet.

Once he's backstage, he rushes to Dan's area, already ripping off most of his outfit for the last piece. Spring dark academia vaguely reminded him of rich school uniforms, but at least they didn't have ridiculous amounts of belts and metal on them.

Dan already has the outfit set out and quickly helps him change. He adjusts the vest and collar for Danny, glancing angrily at the model walking up the line. "Come on, we only have a few minutes before the last two models finish their walk for the Winter portion."

Danny nods, throwing on the gargoyle ear cuffs, only to pause when he sees a strange card on Dan's station. He pushes aside the black rings to grab a tiny green card with a giant question mark. "What's this?"

"Some guy saw my work and wanted to commission him a suit. Apparently, he was tired of how no one could style the question marks." Dan answered, distracted while reapplying some powder to Danny's face.

"A question mark? Why?"

"It's his gimmick or something. I didn't bother to ask for too many details. He will be going to our house soon to get his measurements done," Dan says, twisting Danny's face with his chin to make sure everything looks good. Danny lets him, blindly slipping on his rings and bracelets. "Thought it be a fun little side project."

"How did he hear about you?"

"You remember how you took those boxes of clothes to the job search office to give to people? Apparently, one of his employees' younger brothers borrowed a suit for his prom, and he thought the photos were nice." Dan shrugs. Then he glances in alarm at the stage hand who signals for them. "Never mind that. It's almost our turn again. Get out there!"

Danny scurries away, but not before he sees a beautiful redhead woman in green- was that leaves and vines???- stride over to Dan as the clone puts away his makeup.

She gestures with a business card, and Dan blinks as she talks once before he eagerly takes out his design journal. She must be a performer asking Dan for a new forest design or something.

Danny wonders why Gotham has so many people with oddly specific gimmicks.

He turns his head away to stride back into the catwalk, head held high as he does so. Danny makes the mistake of locking eyes with one of the judges- Tim Drake-Wayne is gawking at him like the people of the street do- and he snaps his gaze away, fighting to keep his composure.

He thinks he does well since Team Fenton snatches first place in this round. Drake-Wayne catches him at the after-party, praising his final outfit so much that Danny offers to give it to him, knowing Dan wouldn't mind.

Drake-Wayne goes red, early agreeing, but since they are so different in size—the CEO's waist is slightly leaner but with far more muscular forearms—Danny tells him to come by his house that weekend to have Dan resize it for him.

It should be fine since the Question Mark man and Leaf Lady will also be there that day for their own measurements.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #passion for fashion #Part 6 #Remember the Poll? It was “Should Dan become an accidental evil villain suit designer”#Second round of the contest #Danny and Dan are both look hot in anything #Even if Dan tries to appear homeless #Danny just wants to go home #Dead Tired #What do you think is “Gotham Aesthetic”

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tycutiovevo · 8 months

Text

got another batch of variants, this time with tangela! themed these guys around styles of shoe! which one is your favorite?

like with my dunsparce post, im gonna ramble under the cut about each one :^)

standard tangela, best known as sneakers tangela. this is tangela as most people know it. however, most don't know that it's signature red feet are actually shoes! they protect tangela's delicate feet from damage. trainers that know this will often buy new shoes for their pokemon, much to tangela's delight.

high heels (+roselia): grass/poison. this variant is highly popular with the most fashionable people and trainers. it has a haughty attitude but an incredible fashion sense, and can be seen in both contests and next to models on the runway, sporting a pair of shoes that matches the model. trainers are advised to be careful with its brambles, as they can cause acute poisoning.

rollerskates (+jumpluff): grass/fairy. these tangela variants are carefree and energetic, and love rollerskating alongside their trainers. they are capable of performing tricks on their skates due to their lightweight bodies.

high tops (+carnivine): grass. these tangela, along with the boots variant, are popular with people and trainers that want a cool looking pokemon. high tops tangela are up for anything, and are also capable of digesting things they wouldn't normally be able to.

boots (+cacturne). grass/dark. boots tangela are brooding and moody, but many teenage trainers and punk trainers alike adore their attitude and style. they may seem aloof, but they care a lot about their appearance.

ballet shoes (+hisuian lilligant): grass. elegant and poised, these tangela are popular with dancers. they have often starred as backup dancers in ballet performances of both humans and pokemon. wild ones will follow hisuian lilligant, as if it were their leader.

sandals (+comfey): grass/fairy. a laid back and companionable tangela popular with most everyone. the petals that fall from its body can be brewed in tea for a healing effect. additionally, the aroma that comes from the blooms is said to cheer up anyone.

#art #my art #pokemon #pokemon variations #pokemon variants #tangela #roselia #jumpluff #carnivine #cacturne #lilligant #comfey

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dark-frosted-heart · 2 months

Text

Go Ahead and Dote on Me - Clavis card story

Story's in His POV

nsfw at the end

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

[Just a note: people are calling Emma “usagi-chan”]

Spring finally arrived in Rhodolite after the egg hunting contest.

People happily took in the warm winds, admired the flowers that began to bloom following winter, and—

Sweets store owner: Oh, it’s the little rabbit. Are you out with Prince Clavis today?

Emma: Yes. I thought I’d keep an eye on him in case something bad happened.

As we walked through the market together, people called out to Emma everywhere.

It seemed like this would be a springtime tradition this year.

Sweets store owner: You got a lot on your hands, little rabbit. Come, let me give you some baked treats.

Emma: Thank you! By the way, I’ve been hearing “little rabbit” a lot…

Sweets store owner: Yeah, everyone’s been using it. Emma, weren’t you the rabbit in the egg hunt the other day? I think it’s popular because it’s cute. Look, that shopkeep over there’s calling out to you.

Flower store owner: Just in time, little rabbit. I’m currently making a bouquet modeled after you.

Emma: Wow, it’s shaped like a rabbit!

Flower store owner: Yeah. Recently, Rhodolite’s been experiencing an unprecedented rabbit bloom. I guess it’s all thanks you you, little rabbit. Thanks.

Emma: You’re…welcome…?

(Indeed a good trend)

Any direction you look, all of the new spring products displayed in the shops were rabbit-themed.

As a rabbit lover, I couldn’t have been more proud.

Emma: Clavis…do you have something to do with this?

After looking around the market, Emma turned toward me in suspicion.

Clavis: Haha, I don’t have the power to manipulate market trends. I suppose everyone’s become aware of the charm of rabbits. This is how Rhodolite should be.

Emma: Is that a good thing to be happy about…?

Clavis: Naturally. It makes me feel good to see how much everyone likes you. Why not do what the people want and wear those rabbit ears again?

Emma: I don’t want to. It’s embarrassing.

Clavis: I want to see it again. Rather, I always want to see it.

Emma: I’ll consider it when it’s just us alone…

(That’s Emma)

(At any rate, rabbit lovers will spread across the continent)

Emma: Ah…I remembered that Leon won the egg hunting contest.

Clavis: That’s right. He was so strong he almost got banned.

Emma: …Anyway, that means the all-powerful cup that grants any wish is currently in Leon’s hands, right? What exactly does Leon plan to do with that cup?

Clavis: Nothing at all. Since I have the cup on hand right now.

Emma: Huh

Clavis: He wasn’t interested in the prize at all. In exchange, I promised to buy him a drink the next time we went out.

(From the start, I was the one who invited Leon and asked him to win)

(If by chance the hunt failed, then the all-powerful cup would’ve been the target)

(Considering the risks, it couldn’t simply be given to the public)

(But we don’t have to worry about that anymore now)

To make up for a rigged contest, all participants were given a discount coupon that could be used in the market and commemorative Easter eggs.

Hopefully that’ll be enough for forgiveness.

Emma: That all-powerful cup…is in your hands…

Clavis: Hm? What’s with that face?

Emma: Because you’re definitely going to use it for something bad.

Clavis: Such as?

Emma: …

Emma’s face turned red.

It sounded like “bad things” involved doing some wicked deeds to Emma.

She was too cute to handle and I hugged her by the waist.

Clavis: Can you tell me?

Emma: No, I’m trusting your ability as a gentleman.

Clavis: I see, I see. I’ll make a wish on the all-powerful cup when we return home.

Emma: Oh, that’s right! I have a wish that I want the all-powerful cup to grant!

Clavis: You want me to use it to grant your wish and not my wicked one?

I tried not to laugh as Emma vigorously nodded her head.

Clavis: I have no choice but to do as my lovely fiancee asks. What do you wish for?

Emma: Um, well… …

Clavis: If you don’t have one, then I—

Emma: Rabbit!

Clavis: …Rabbit?

Emma: Yes. I know you’re a self-proclaimed rabbit lover, but I can’t be the only rabbit. Wearing the rabbit ears was embarrassing. So I want to see you as a rabbit!

Emma shouted at the top of her lungs, like she had forgotten we were out in public.

Man in market: King Clavis as a rabbit?!

Woman in market: …A rabbit? Is that okay? No restrictions?

(I see…Now I have to live up to expectations)

Clavis: Alright. After all, it’s my lovely fiancee’s wish. Even with the all-powerful cup, I have to make it happen.

Emma: …I’m sorry. I got caught up in the moment when I said that—

When Emma tried to backtrack, I kissed Emma on the lips with a smile to stop her from continuing.

Clavis: Look forward to it, Emma.

In order to fulfill my lovely fiancee’s wish, I had to act quickly.

There wasn’t time to wish on the all-powerful cup and preparations had to be made as soon as possible—

Clavis: Now then my lovely fiancee, here comes Mr. Rabbit.

Emma: Are you actually a rabbit though?!

The next morning, I became a bunny boy and slipped into Emma’s room.

Emma, who was already awake and relaxing in bed, dropped her book in shock.

(However…)

(You’re being surprisingly shy)

I even altered the rabbit outfit, adding a tail to match Emma’s.

Originally I wanted to visit at night with the outfit I prepared overnight, but there’s entertainment in not having made it until morning.

Emma: I didn’t think about it when you disappeared after we came back yesterday, but…it suits you better than I thought it would.

Clavis: Right, right? A handsome man will look good in anything.

Emma: You might be better at being a rabbit than I am.

Clavis: I disagree. I could never be as adorable as you.

Emma: You’re pretty adorable now though?

Clavis: Oh?

(Apparently in Emma’s eyes, I’m a cute rabbit)

(That won’t do)

Clavis: I’m a rabbit today. You can hold me, pet me, love me. Anything you want, okay…?

Emma: Really?

Clavis: Yes, I’m a man of my word. What do you want from me? I’m open to any kinks or perversions.

When I got on the bed and crouched like a rabbit, Emma cleared her throat in embarrassment.

Emma: Th-then…

She hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on top of my head.

She patted my hair gently as if handling a rabbit, tickling me.

Emma: Soft and fluffy. Clavis, your hair’s really nice to touch.

Clavis: …

(I wanted to tease you, but I didn’t expect this kind of play)

(It’s fine when I do it, but when on the receiving end, it’s…difficult)

As I quietly accepted her hand, a small chuckle escaped Emma’s lips.

Emma: Are you feeling a little shy?

Clavis: Haha, how could I?

Emma: But you’re not being as talkative as usual.

Clavis: I was just distracted by how nice your hand feels.

Emma: If you say so.

(...)

As she became more accustomed to it, Emma’s hands got bolder.

I’ve never felt so self-conscious.

(I thought I’d be able to take anything Emma did, but…)

(I’m not cut out for this)

Clavis: Emma, you know this rabbit can do dirtier things, right?

Emma: No, please continue being a cute rabbit.

Clavis: Haha, don’t feel like you have to hold back. For instance—

I push Emma down and boldly hike up the skirt of her nightgown.

When I pushed her legs apart and placed myself between them, Emma started to look flustered.

Emma: What are you doing there?!

Clavis: I’m a rabbit. I’ll go anywhere I want.

I pressed my lips against her thigh under the nightgown and continued up.

Emma: Ah…Don’t…

She tried to stop me with a hand, but faltered when my lips reached her underwear.

Clavis: I’m a cute rabbit, aren’t I? I can be more affectionate if you want?

I shifted her underwear to the side and licked.

The sweet sounds she made were like honey and I almost felt like a spring rabbit in heat.

Emma: Cute rabbits…don’t…Nghaa…

Clavis: Is that so? There’s all sorts of rabbits.

I sucked at her wet spot before appearing out from under her nightgown when her hips bucked up.

When Emma scowled at me in embarrassment with tears in her eyes, I wanted to focus on teasing her more.

(No matter what, you’re cuter than I am)

I removed my vest, undid my tie, and placed the rabbit ears I was wearing on Emma’s head.

Clavis: As expected, it suits you better.

Emma: Really…?

Though she was embarrassed, she didn’t remove the rabbit ears.

She fixed the ears and the sight of her being all shy burned all sense of reason away.

Emma: Nn…Clavis, don’t touch…Aahh

Clavis: Emma…stay as my rabbit for the rest of your life.

(After all, I’m a man that would rather be loved)

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri translations

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

master list

Eddie x fem! reader

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️

Absolutely no minors, gtfo. Hopefully everyone has read the warning post from earlier this week regarding this chapter. it is extremely dark themed.

Heavy violence

References to past rape/ assault

Blood, gore

Domestic violence

Somnaphilia

Character death etc

A/N: please know your limits. I love you and let’s get into this chapter so we can move on.

The brown popcorn bag spun lazily in the microwave like an oily inflating balloon. The steady hum of the appliance kept you company as the countdown to the sad supper ticked to an end. The cheerful ding springing you from the staring contest you were having with the counter top.

The small radio you had purchased was sitting on the counter, the soft belt of Linger by The Cranberries was playing for what seemed like the tenth time today and you couldn’t help but feel the lyrics in your blood.

Unaware of anything out of the ordinary. A typical night after working at the bar. Showering and throwing on a pair of pajama shorts, tucked next to the pair of Eddie’s boxer briefs you had found last week.

After investigating why the washer banged all to hell when even the smallest of loads were in it, wedged tight under the plastic agitator were his underwear.

And you’d be a fool to say you hadn’t broken down and sobbed in the basement on the discovery.

You dried them and folded them neatly next to your delicates. The same drawer that held the worn and tarnished pig ring he gave you as a Christmas gift, and the envelope full of cash.

The water works started again.

Hot tears flooding your eyes, the simple act made you feel like he was home with you. But the nightmare always continued.

You missed him so much.

“But you always really knew

I just want to be with you

If you were a tiny bit more awake you might have caught that the door to the garage was locked even though you had no memory of locking it yourself.

..And I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

Rustling the steaming bag from the microwave with burnt finger tips, you toss it on the counter hastily. Sucking your fingers into your mouth to dull the stinging redness away.

Do you have to let it linger?

And maybe it was then that if you weren’t busy nursing the premature burns, you would have noticed the odd set of keys on the counter next to the mail, pushed to the side by the buttery bag of popcorn.

Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?

Bending at the waist to the lower cabinet you reach around for the smooth plastic of the yellow popcorn bowl. Upon standing you feel dizzy. You hear it before you feel it, the loud thwap of something heavy against the back of your head. The pain is searing and turns your vision to black. You’re passed out before your head even hits the floor.

(1987)

The November air whipped into reddened skin, striking out any heat you had left in the confinements of the peach sweater you borrowed from Nancy on your frozen walk to Forest Hills Trailer Park.

It happened again.

And this time it wasn’t an accident, no matter how much he begged, no matter how many times he said he was sorry.

He hit you with a closed fist.

You weren’t flirting with Dustin. He was your friend. Way before Chad had taken any interest in you. Most of your friends were guys, besides El and Max, and even though Nancy Wheeler was older and more popular— you considered her a friend too.

When she left for college this past fall, she insisted on making her room more stylish to your liking. And she never once minded the twin beds you both slept in, a night stand between them.

But when Mike sat next to you at lunch and was going over notes from Kensington’s class, Chad’s mind twisted it into Mike hitting on you. Which led to Chad hitting on you, but instead of compliments and doting behavior— he drug you out to his car, a bony grip on the back of your neck.

He screamed at you with every vein protruding from his tan skin. Voice hoarse and throat stretched tight.

Apparently you were fucking people behind his back. Even though you were a virgin. The town whore! He had yelled loud for even some of the teachers to hear, all turning a blind eye to the obvious domestic abuse happening on school grounds.

Explaining yourself only made it worse.

He slapped your face hard when you opened your mouth to interrupt him. And when you stood your ground and raised your chin to him, calm and steadily telling him to go fuck himself, he swung a fist into your eye.

And that’s when you left.

His apologies trailing behind you and caught in the gut of wind to travel far away from your ears. He wouldn’t follow you, he had appearances at school to keep up.

Much easier to tell Aaron and Sean that you got your period and were being crazy then explain why he had left school.

The gravel crunched beneath your feet, frozen from the last winter storm and holding pockets of ice amongst the rocks.

Pale blue and still holding the old television lawn ornament, you sighed audible when Eddie’s van was parked outside of the aluminum sided trailer.

You hadn’t seen him since graduation last May. The night Chrissy’s extra curricular activities with Rick finally came out when they were caught fucking in the shower upstairs, at Steve’s house. Both sporting pricked arms with needle marks.

A broken hearted Eddie drank all night long and puked into the hot tub.

Your quickened steps up to the concrete stairs and a shaky broken knock on the screen door have you stepping back waiting for the door to open, awaiting Eddie’s stupid grin waiting on the other side.

Living with Eddie you had no reason to be afraid. Many nights the front door was left unlocked. And maybe it was out of habit. Maybe you had left it unlatched tonight too.

It would explain how he was there now.

Hovering over you, his blond hair coined perfectly slicked to the side, slightly feathered back with thick styling gel. A Ralph Lauren polo with the logo on the left chest. His cologne reeked of some designer brand, making your stomach queasy.

The only difference between those years ago and now was that he had a small dusting of a flesh colored mustache wiggled on his sweaty lip. Same maniacal inky blacks to his blown pupils, laced with the piercing blue.

The realization ices your veins and stings your eyes with angry tears.

Chad Cunningham was in your home, his body over yours as you're pinned beneath him, the smell of iron invading your nose. Looking around with wild eyes you see the crimson streaks from the linoleum in the kitchen to the carpet where you are laying. Your head thumping with the rhythm of bloody drops against the fibers of the worm carpet.

“Been a long time hasn’t it, honey bun?”

An eternity wouldn’t have been enough.

Pressing his body into yours, you can feel the stiffness of his starched shirt as you try to will your arms to fight him away. He chuckles at your feeble attempts to push him off.

His weight presses deeper into you as he lowers his mouth to your lips, squeezing your face he almost sings, “Told you I’d see you soon.”

His lips are harshly planted into yours, feeling like jagged rocks against your soft waters.

“Fuck,” he groans, hard against your thigh. “just like I remember. I’ve missed you.”

The clink of his belt unthreading from the loops of his khakis finally renders your senses. But you wait with calculated timing.

Leaning back, he stares into your face with a quizzical expression burrowed deep on his brow. “What’s the frown for? Don’t you miss me? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Evident that his delusions still ran deep, it’s showtime. You would survive this. One good hit, that's all it would take.

Pushing yourself up gently, your head is swimming with nausea and the steady dripping tick of blood down the back of your neck.

Placing a shaky hand to his cheek he moves into your hand, the same way Eddie had that night, your stomach somersaults at the memory.

When his eyes shut, you turn your fingers into a clawed position, and scrape the flesh from the corner of his eye down to his lip.

It happens quickly and with your blurred vision and pounding head it feels like it’s all in slow motion. He wasn’t expecting it.

A kick to his ribs hurt your bare feet probably more than it injured him but you needed the extra time to escape into your room.

The phone feels cool against your cheek, and weighs heavy on your shoulder when you realize it’s dead. The plan of you running in here, dialing 9-1-1 and holding him off until they came was foiled.

“BITCH! You can’t hide from me!”

Knowing you only have seconds before he finds you, you

frantically look around for something to defend yourself with. Searching eyes land on the window.

Just need to get out and run to Mr. Griffin’s house.

Fingers on the frame you yank upwards, palms digging into the wired screen, pushing it out.

Throwing your leg out into the darkness of the night, you’re one step closer to being safe. One step closer to ending this night of horrors before it could begin.

The noise of splintering wood and the crack of a door being snapped from its hinges join your erratic breath and piercing screams— a monstrous reel of symphonic sound.

Chad twists a thick fist into your scalp, freeing the hair from its follicles in a sickening pop as you scratch your nails into the window sill, trying to hold on.

He’s stronger than you, no different than years before. And when your body crumbles onto the floor with a squelching thud, splinters of lacquered wood and nails that once held the door in place, pierce into your exposed skin.

But that is minor league compared to the shattering pain delivered from his fist into your face as he straddles you.

“Think you can hide away with that freak from me?!” He rocks his closed hand into your other cheek, this time clipping your eye with a gold wedding band.

Your cries fall on deaf ears. Tears stinging and trying to drip from your swelling eyelids.

“Honey bun,” he purrs into your ear, “don’t tell me you’re that fucking stupid to think I wouldn’t find you.”

His fingers move to brush your hair from your face, and he holds your head in place when you try to bite at his fingers.

His wicked smile could make the devil’s scaly skin crawl.

“Such a dumb whore, forgetting I have eyes and ears all over this town.” Placing his grabby fingers on his breasts, he continues, “Aaron and Sean may not be the brightest candles on the cake but they are loyal.”

Aaron…Sean.

You rack your brain for any recollection of those names. and it finally clicks. Chad’s friends in high school, following him around like he was the King. A snap of his fingers and they’d move like henchmen. Fighting anyone who got in his way, putting themselves at risk just to say they had a friend from a rich family.

The realization swims in your eyes and scares your tears dry.

“No.”

“Pieced it together huh?” Chad laughs wildly. “They work..” he grunts, hips rutting against you, pinching your perked nipples in his tight grasp, his fingernails digging through your shirt around the delicate skin, making you squeal, “..with the freak!”

His deranged cackle doubles when you yell out in pain.

“Small town bosses don’t lock their offices, and it was too easy for Aaron to find your address, even easier to find out that Eddie had left your ass here, unguarded, alone, waiting for someone to save you, and honey bun here I am!”

His sick twisted smile oozes fear further into your gut, brooding and feeding on any small amount of joy you had left.

“You need a fucking psychiatrist.”

“Such harsh words for that sweet mouth, but don’t worry!” he reassures, eyes wide with delight and a psychotic expression on his face as he brings his voice low and secret-like, “I won’t kill you yet, the boys are looking for Munson and when they find him…” he lowers himself to kiss your lips, sliding his tongue against the split flesh.

“Fuck!” He bellows, licking his lips savoring your taste on his tongue, “when they find him they’re gonna bring him here, and it’ll be arranged to look like the freak killed you and then himself.. a lover’s quarrel gone bad.”

He rubs his face and grunts again at the warbled wails you let out, squeezing your breasts and bucking into your clothed crotch. “Goddamn,” he groans, his eyes rolling into his head at the sound of your cries, getting off on your distorted face, “I just couldn’t help myself, had to come here and do this first. One last goodbye.”

You’d rather be dead at this point. You wish he’d kill you now and get it over with. But the thought of Eddie seeing your lifeless body haunted you. And you stop crying when his hands close around the hollow of your throat.

“Gonna be mine, one last time honeybun?”

“Fuck you,” you croak beneath his hands on your throat.

You’re weak and running out of time. Rolling your tongue against your teeth and cheeks, harboring a mixture of saliva and blood you wait until Chad is leaning over you, and when he’s close enough you spit the concoction into his face.

Chad bellers out, letting go of your throat and standing abruptly to wipe his face. The split second he’s distracted you try to crawl away, but he kicks you down.

Delivering several soccer styled strikes into your stomach, his voice spewing insults with every jab of his white Nikes into your body.

A raging shock of fury paints his face.

“What did I tell you hmm? If I can’t have you— no one can!” You scream loud when his shoe propels into your crotch, shocking your pelvis with burning heat.

All noise is void when he rolls you over and crashes down on your beaten body, clobbering your tear and blood streaked face, blow after blow. Your eyes are swelling shut and you’re surprised when you see Eddie’s face, before your eyes shut.

It feels like home.

-1987-

The warm smile you missed so much was not there to greet you. A cold calloused “what?” finds you instead.

“Eddie?” you ask with a scratchy throat, clearing it once, twice, to answer him against the wind.

Grumbling and stomping in the trailer is heard. Along with two separate giggles.

The door is yanked hard inward revealing a version of Eddie Munson you’d never seen before. His skin was sunken in on his cheeks, dark circles rimmed his eyes. His once soft features were sharp and lackluster, brooding with ashy shadows and skin that looked like it hadn’t seen sunlight in months.

He looked gaunt and hallowed out, his ribs poking against the cindery color of his skin. The warm whiskey eyes that once danced when he laughed were now gaping blacked marbled, polar and dull.

He speaks but you are too busy holding your breath from the stench of rotting clothes and unwashed bodies.

Stumbling over an apology for not hearing him, you are startled when he barks back, “I said, what the fuck are you doing here, Tooty?”

You look to the floor and notice he’s wearing a heavily stained sock with a hole in the toe, the other foot bare, next to a pair of work boots are three pairs of women’s shoes:, heels, keds, and pink reeboks. Your toes wiggle in your worn converse.

“I’m.. I uh..”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “oh for fucks sake spit it out! You selling raffle tickets or something for school? Pep team need new Pom-poms? Or maybe the chess club is looking for a new board?”

Shock stealing your speech you stand on frigid feet digging your fingers into the yarn on the Nancy’s sweater. Tears bite your lashes and fall on cold cheeks.

Eddie! Where’s your lighter? A sultry voice coos, padding feet getting closer to the threshold.

“Listen kid, I’m fucking busy, I don’t have time to haul you around because twiddle dick and dum forgot you at the gas station again.”

He has barely looked at you since you got there. The guy who held more merit to you than your own brother was gone.

When you wipe your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater he lets out an exaggerated groan.

He thrusts dirty fingers into his sweatpants pockets. Pulling out a perfectly rolled twenty dollar bill, he flattens it smooth. He smears his finger along the length of the bill, collecting remnants of a fine white powder, which is quickly shoved into his greedy mouth and rubbed on his gums like he’s brushing his teeth.

“Here,” he grunts, shoving the drugged money into your pocket, avoiding your eyes at all cost, “now get lost.”

The blinds on the door are still swinging as you stand there dumbstruck and watery eyed. Low voices are murmured through the thin walls as a lighter flicks and sizzles.

Who was that baby?

Nobody.

And that’s exactly who you were to everyone you knew, nobody.

And ironically enough— that’s exactly who you could rely on.

One thing was for certain: Eddie Munson was a stranger to you.

The tears fell harder on the shameful walk back to Chad. But you weren’t sure if you were crying harder because of the sudden loss you felt from an old friend or because of the pain in your eye.

Heart hammering in his chest, Eddie jiggles the door handle, it’s locked and he panics and realizes he still has his key. Fumbling with the key ring, Eddie finds the short brass one and unlocks the door.

The sight of the mostly empty house is jarring, causing his stomach to drop , a small recliner rests in the living room where his couch once sat. Wine is spilled from the kitchen to the living room, smeared like it was swept poorly with a mop.

You never drank wine.

Maybe you started drinking heavily after he left. He did. It only made sense.

But a second glance at the claret colored stain embedded into the carpet and his worst fear was realized.

Blood.

The sound of something wet and thwacking settles into his bones and shakes his spine. Someone was hurting you.

Heavy docs lead him to the corner of the house, your room and his old room. Where his door was intact, yours was shattered. Like Jack Torrance took his ax to it in The Shining. Stepping on cracked wood, Eddie sees the most horrific thing he’s ever been a witness too.

And suddenly he’s six years old again, helpless. Watching a woman he loved lose a battle she didn’t even know she was in. But instead of his mother’s lifeless body crumbled by his father’s feet, instead of her dark curly hair matted with pooling blood and a gaping bullet hole— It’s you underneath a guy he doesn’t recognize.

Your face is battered and covered in blood, the once plush lips he held so warmly between his own were split and slack. Your eyes were swollen, lacking any shine to them they normally held.

His eyes connect with yours for a brief second, and when they close he doesn’t know if they will open again.

Fury radiates through his entire body, masking the pain of heartache at the sight of you slipping from him.

Before he can acknowledge the thought of you being gone, he lunges at the catalog Dad dressed asshole. Knocking him off your body and landing on top of him, colliding into your dresser. The tangle of body parts wrestling for purchase tumble into the hall. Ringed fists land home on every surface of this guy's face, and when he stops to take a breath— he realizes the face he is hitting is Chad Cunningham’s.

How did he find you? Had he been stalking you both since that day at the grocery store?

Didn’t matter all that he cared about was throwing this mother fucker the biggest ass kicking of his life, and he wouldn’t stop until either Chad or himself was dead.

“I’ve waited years for this day,” Chad spit, after getting a punch in when Eddie was in his own head, knocking Eddie’s jaw to bite down on his tongue, filling his mouth with blood immediately. “Trailer trash Munson finally came to play.”

Taken by surprise, Chad shoves Eddie from him and stands up, looking through the doorway at your limp body.

Eddie stands slow, using the bathroom doorknob to help, he reaches for the knife kept in his back pocket.

Chad spins to face Eddie, his hair sweaty and face ballooning out from Eddie’s rings. “You should have left my girl alone Munson, would have saved your uncle the heartache.”

Eddie flicks the blade open on the knife, grip tight around it, he breathes through his nose his throat tight and stretching around his words, his leather jacket creaking when he moves his neck around in a stretch, confident in his delivery, “she’s not yours.”

The hysterical laugh that leaves Chad’s lungs could resemble bats screeching in the night, he’d make a great clown in a haunted house.

“Dead or alive whether I’m married or not— she’ll always be mine.”

Like alley cats, they stare each other down, waiting for the opportunity to pounce.

Chad licks his lips and looks your way again, “listen, I get it, she’s hot. And that tight little pussy..” he licks his lips and grabs himself over his denim jeans, stained with your blood.

Eddie’s blood is boiling, he’s seconds away from snapping but trying to hold it together long enough to make a perfect attack.

Chad leans forward, gesturing a mockery secret with his hand held around his mouth, “It’s even better when she’s fighting you,” he inhales deep, like he’s wishing he was in a past memory, “screaming really tightens her right up.”

Knife out, Eddie charges forward. And is struck dumb when the knife is kicked from his hand. Another kick this time to the chest that he wasn’t expecting sends him stumbling into the living room, air gone from his lungs. Chad follows and swings into his diaphragm making Eddie choke out on nothing, gasping for air.

“Oh come on, Munson,” Chad taunted, leaning down to kiss Eddie’s cheek, “Thought you would have some trailer park moves to throw at me.”

Raising a heavy boot, Eddie stomps on Chad’s toes, and mule kicks his kneecaps. A ringed fist meets his cheek, adding another forming bruise to his winter tan skin. Shoving him backwards into the counter in the kitchen, the cabinet doors bust on the impact.

The punches Eddie is landing have his knuckles bloody and swelling but he doesn’t care. Each punch is a testament for the years you held yourself together, acted like nothing bad was going on, when in reality you were experiencing hell on Earth and he never knew.

This was his payback. His way of righting a wrong. A wrong that should have never even began.

He doesn’t know what he was hit with just that he was stumbling backwards again. Temple throbbing and without reaching up he knows he’s bleeding. His back hitting the corner of the fridge he slides down onto the linoleum.

His head is heavy and his vision blinded with hazy clouds of black and white. He hears Chad but doesn’t see him, just feels his head being slammed in the fridge and a grip in his hair.

“Could have saved your uncle funeral costs you stupid bastard… clearly you don’t care about him, or Tooty for that matter, leaving her all alone like that,” Chad sucks through his teeth, splitting blood onto Eddie’s shirt, “thought the raccoons usually stuck together.”

He chuckles low and slams Eddie’s head one more time with such force it leaves a dent in the fridge. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” he says, straightening his shirt, walking towards your room , “my girl is waiting.”

“Don’t touch her!” Eddie roars, pushing himself up to stand with all his might. Pounding head and nausea thick in his mouth. Raising his head he looks at Chad with blurry sight, trying to see clearly. His voice is low, catching his breath and taking all of his strength to utter out the words. Balancing around the mark of deranged, “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Chad swivels on his heels, head cocked at Eddie, he grabs under his chin holding it firmly in place. His breath fanning over Eddie’s cheeks and he smiles maniacally, blood painting his teeth.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” A heavy fist to the gut has Eddie doubled over. Gripping the counter with white knuckles and wet blood smeared fingertips.

He had failed again. He wasn’t able to stop his own father from killing his mother. And now Chad was on his way to desecrate your lifeless body. He’s a fuck up and a failure.

Always.

A low guttural choking sound breeches Eddie’s ears. And he turns to see you covered in your own blood, barely standing and wielding a bat with nails protruding from every which way.

The nails are claret colored and dripping thick drops onto the carpet, fibers of Chad’s jeans hang in shreds from the sharp edges. A scant look towards Eddie and your eyes swim with relief and mourning.

He’s here. Blood is smeared down his lips and his hands look tight and swollen.

But he’s alive. And so are you.

Eddie’s vision is doubled and he blinks rapidly unaware if he is seeing you or not. He swallows hard and almost chokes on tears.

But that is short lived.

And it happens fast.

The yelling rage from Chad’s lungs over power your screams. His hands are tight around your throat before you can blink, your spine snapping into the nearest wall, feet dangling off the ground.

Haziness bleeds into your eyes and your breath is expelled from screaming— now gone when your windpipe is crushing like a pixie stick under Chad’s grip.

Desperate to fight back you jam your thumbs into his eyes. Victor Creel style like the Urban Legends passed down that you were told as kids.

If you were going to die, at least he would be blind, a forever reminder of this day etched, literally, into his face.

You prayed Eddie would know how much you loved him.

Should have’s taking over the last puffs of oxygen in your brain, popping like bubbles.

Should have told him sooner.

Should have said it every day.

Should have kissed him more.

Should have let him love you.

The guilt wraps around your mind as the cold hands of death welcome you. But you’re not afraid. Knowing Chad always kept good on his word, Eddie would join you in the afterlife.

Hand in hand.

Strolling along the pinked cotton candy clouds and the pearly gates.

You are his and he is yours.

Lovers together finally at last.

The last breath on your lips is a silent devotion to him.

I love you, Eddie.

a/n: my asks are always open ♥️

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #fic recs #eddie munson angst #stranger things

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flowerbetweenfangs · 8 days

Text

To The Wolves

This was written as an entry for a contest. The theme was "masquerade" I played fast and loose and just focused on the "mask" part. It was a lot of fun. This is a Red Riding Hood retelling.

CW: Attempted non con, (Not by the narrator) Knot, beast form.

Originally On A03

Every year, once harvest was done and winter was about to begin, the village I watched over would perform a ritual. With the crops now reaped, they would sow the seed of their unions, in the hopes that their pack numbers would increase.

I was an ancient One. Older than the fields I roamed. Larger than the village itself. While such a form would be cumbersome, I took up space elsewhere.

I was a whispered prayer. The howling of wind. A burnt offering. A scratching at the shrine door. A carving on a wall. A shadow moving across the ground. An image in a scroll or book. A sight just out of the corner of an eye.

They called me “Hunt” and “Harvest”. But the few who had laid eyes on me called me by another Name. I answered to all of them. For what is a God without believers?

As Winter’s chill settled in, I could see the villagers tirelessly working. They carved wood into masks. Many used the pictures of me in ancient texts as reference, but each one had their own unique form. A symbol of their devotion. Once they wore it, they would be acting on my behalf. While not as powerful as a direct offering, it was a gesture I preferred.

They had chosen a woman to don the vestments this year. Not a maiden, nor a crone. Young enough to run and be free, but old enough to know what she was getting into. Unclaimed and untethered.

She worked with the matriarch of the shrine, creating cakes that could fit into the palm of her hand. Each one was prepared and placed in a wicker basket. They called the older woman “Grand Mother”, for all her work in keeping up with the myths and offerings.

Those who weren’t taking part had to be shut inside, threats of me gobbling up any one who disobeyed. Sometimes a bit of fear was necessary. While I had never harmed a human under my protection, no one wanted to be the first.

As darkness fell, Grand Mother went on ahead. She vanished into the treeline, the light of her lantern bobbing up and down until it faded from view. When she arrived at the shrine, she would wait there until morning.

The Mask Makers followed shortly after her. Some howled, some sang, many simply panted and grunted with the effort of the sprint. Soon, their voices also vanished into the night.

The woman had been stripped of all her earthly belongings and name. She was given the basket and a crimson cloak. It fell over her shoulders, and hung just above the ground, but did little to preserve her modesty when she walked.

Bare feet kicked up dirt as she walked to the edge of the village, the basket hanging from the crook of her elbow. She would not even be allowed sandals for her journey, only her faith to protect her from what lay within the woods.

A howl in the distance signaled that she was to start her journey.

At the edge of her home, she paused. The light of the moon illuminated her path. While she had grown up near the forest, it was a different thing entirely to see it at night.

Once she got to the treeline, I could see her resolve waver. While she didn’t slow, her steps became more cautious and calculated. Shoulders slightly raised, jaw clenched, she listened.

Clutching the basket close, she allowed herself to shiver. The chattering of her teeth filled the empty night.

Bringing her hands to her lips, she held them close and continued to walk forward. A harsh wind whipped the cloak around, nearly ripping it from her shoulders. The force made her gait more serpentine, but she managed to right herself.

The first one came from the trees, his eye holes slightly too big. I could hear his panting as he stalked closer to her, taking care to not snap a twig or step too heavily.

She saw him in time, her body going stiff. One hand snaked into the basket.

When their gazes locked, he stood upright, eyes greedily studying her form. He took a few steps closer to her.

“Lady Red, Lady Red,” His voice was muffled by the mask, but it was clear enough. “What have you to eat?”

Slowly, she withdrew her hand from the basket. A small cake was in her palm.

Holding it out to the man, she cleared her throat.

“Dear Wolf, Dear Wolf. Here, have something sweet.” Her whole body was shaking. Whether from the cold or fear, it was hard to tell.

The cake nearly fell from her grasp before the man finally took it. Clutching it tightly, he ran off back toward the village. I could taste its sweetness as he gobbled it down. My power increased slightly, tethering me further to the land.

She watched him run, before rolling her shoulders and pulling the hood of the cloak up. Back straight, she began to walk again.

Her steps, no longer cautious, were still slow. Calculated. The gait of someone determined but not reckless. The residue from the cake still clung to her hand, but she didn’t seem to care. Now that it was over, she allowed herself to feel relief.

But it was short lived.

I could hear the whispers as the others began to move. Some closer to her, some toward the shrine. Plans being made. I followed their words, and I could tell they knew I was listening. Shivers went up spines, some slapped the back of their necks when they could feel my breath on it. A few jerked their heads in my direction when they caught a glimpse of my shadow.

One sprung forward, jumping into her path. The ears on his mask were slightly too large, making him look more like a coyote.

She slowed to a stop, eyes wide like a doe. Breath came from her lips in a foggy cloud. Goosebumps traveled across her flesh as she stared.

“Lady Red, Lady Red,” The voice rumbled from behind the mask. “What have you to eat?”

This time, she stood firm and didn’t hesitate. Once more, she pulled out a small cake from the basket. While it didn’t shake in her grip, there was a bit of reluctance as she extended her arm out to the man.

“Dear Wolf, Dear Wolf. Here, have something sweet.”

The man stared at her a moment longer, then leaned forward, shifting his mask up. She averted her eyes, holding the cake out insistently.

He took the cake directly into his mouth, lips brushing against her hand. A few strands of drool remained on her palm, which she discreetly wiped on her thigh when he turned away. I could taste it again, and found my own mouth watering further.

Once he had devoured the morsel, he stared at her once more, before dashing off back to the village.

She put a hand to her chest and let out a sigh of relief. Her stride picked up again, and she seemed more determined than before. The light of the moon seemed to shine brighter than before, bathing the entire area in a silvery glow.

I had been watching her so closely, I almost didn’t see the man in the bushes. But I did see the chips in his mask, where the mouth would have been. The jagged edges poked into his lips, a few drops of crimson welling. He followed behind, not announcing himself like the others had.

Putting a hand over his mouth, he stifled his breath and continued to keep pace with the woman. Every so often, he would reach out, his hand brushing against the cloak’s fabric. I knew a hunter when I saw one.

We all stopped at the same time.

Craning her neck, she looked for her pursuer. Her eyes widened. Clutching the cloak tight, she attempted to draw it closed around herself. I could tell she wanted to call out to the man, to get him to come into view. But the words seemed caught in her throat.

I saw him shift his form, starting to rise, and for a moment I felt relief.

However, rather than announce himself, he pounced on her. The action was so sudden she didn’t have time to draw in a breath and scream. I don’t think she realized what was happening until he was on top of her.

Armed with only her faith, she finally cried out the ancient name I’d been known as:

Warg .

The basket snapped in two, cakes spilling all over the forest floor. Steam curled off the top, and they blackened.

I hadn’t taken on a physical shape in years, but I found myself coming out from behind a tree. To not frighten her, I took on the body of a human male in a rather intricately carved wolf mask, furs wrapped around my torso. Amusingly, the pelt’s tail dangled between my legs where one would be in my other form.

The tree groaned as I rested a hand on the trunk, nails far too long to be human digging into the bark. A growl rumbled in my throat, tearing through human muscle that hadn’t used it before. It became more of a death rattle, and I worried I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Compressing my being down to a form so small had me ready to come apart at the seams.

But I wasn’t one to ignore an offering.

Pausing, the man looked up at me. I could see beyond the mask, the thoughts racing through his mind as he attempted to place who I was. Muscles went taut, and I could see flight or fight warring as he weighed the options.

I strode closer, jaw clenched to prevent another snarl from escaping my lips. Even though I was around the same size as him, he seemed to notice the power rolling off me.

Slowly, he slipped off the woman and scrambled away apologetically. The words became curses as he scurried away, the Grand Mother’s title on his lips.

The woman stayed on the ground, eyes still wide. Each action that followed seemed to be a struggle with how much she shook. Finally, she turned on her side to face me. Attempting to stand, she sucked in a breath when her knees gave out.

I stood back, debating whether or not to offer her my hand.

Shivering, she managed to struggle to her feet.

Upon seeing the ruined basket, she covered her face. Suppressed sobs shook her, and I felt a pang of sympathy. Through no fault of her own, the ritual had been halted.

While she had no idea that she had summoned me prematurely, it was obvious something had gone wrong. If the next harvest failed, she would bear the guilt. Although I knew her attacker would be punished, by myself or by the other villagers.

Picking up the remaining pieces of the basket, I offered it to her. Once she took them, I could feel a shift in the wind. The scent of the approaching men.

They’d heard the commotion and came running. They went to call her old Name, but stopped themselves.

Despite my better judgment, I snarled. It ripped through my very being, and I could feel myself starting to become undone. I debated on changing my form right then and there, but I didn’t want to frighten her more than I already had. Instead, I began to walk.

I could smell the fear. The confusion. The worry.

Who is this stranger in our woods? What has he done to Lady Red?

In the light of the moon, I could see the shadow of my true form. A fierce wind howled, and I followed it, vanishing from sight.

I could hear her running steps. No longer afraid, or maybe more so than ever, she sprinted for the shrine. All that needed to be done now was for her to make it inside. Hopefully the broken basket would be explained away and the night could come to a close.

I could hear her voice call out for the Matriarch.

“Grand Mother? Are you there?”

Silence answered.

I saw more fear take over her face. Confusion. This was clearly not the way things were supposed to go.

Peering inside the shrine, I saw the cushion, where the elder had been kneeling, was empty. Sniffing, I followed the scent out the back and into the woods. The smell of gold was strong. The scent of the Broken Mask clung to it.

Sneaking through a window, I slunk through the Holy Room. Masks from previous years lined the shelves, along with baskets, cloaks, and old recipes. The hearth was still warm, the embers from the fire still glowing.

Growling, I resisted the urge to run out of the shrine and chase down the pair.

Once more, Lady Red called from outside the gate.

Behind her, I could see the approaching silhouettes of the masked men.

I felt my form shift again, taking on a smaller, more delicate shape. I’d only seen the Matriarch a handful of times, but I hoped darkness would conceal me better. Taking one of the vestments, I wrapped it around myself.

Kneeling on the mat, I faced the front room.

“In here, dear!”

The door opened and she came inside. Through labored breaths, she attempted to tell the events of what had just transpired. Before she could get to leaving the village, I saw her stiffen at the sight of me.

The longer she stared at the disguise, the more it seemed to fall apart. I could feel the power rippling off me, filling the room. I fought between compressing myself and holding up the illusion, or giving in and letting my true form come forth, consequences or not.

“My, what big eyes you have.” She said, voice shaking. Still, she took a step closer and squinted at me in the dark.

“The better to see you with.” My throat was scraped raw from the words

“What big ears you have,” She continued, teeth chattering.

And yet, she came to the side of the mat. Close enough I could smell her breath and fear. Kneeling next to me, she rested at the edge of the cushion. It was just enough to tilt me, ever so slightly, in her direction.

“The better to hear you with.” Once more, the voice coming from my form was not made for a human throat, and I could feel it becoming raspy.

“... And what big teeth you have.”

We stared at one another. I could feel her warmth, despite the shivering.

A knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips. I expected fear, anger, worry.

But there was none. Her eyes were wide as realization of what I was dawned on her. Lips parted slightly as she took in a shallow breath to steady herself.

I allowed the form to unravel. While I still would have been bigger than the shrine in my truest form, I allowed myself to appear as something closer to my nature. Wind whipped through the air, stoking the embers back to life. As the orange glow mingled with silver, I saw my lupine shadow dancing on the wall and carvings.

My tongue lolled out of my mouth as I inhaled her scent. White fangs flashed in the dark, saliva dribbling onto the floor.

Despite the warring emotions, I managed to keep my mind.

“Lady Red, Lady Red, what have you to eat?” My true voice rumbled from deep within.

Her eyes went down to the ruined basket, then the old offerings lining the shelves. However, she quickly made up her mind. Untying the cloak, she let it fall to the floor.

“Dear Wolf, Dear Wolf. Here, have something sweet.”

The hands that had been trembling only a moment before were steady as they cupped my jaw. Fingers buried themselves in my fur, nails far too short to ever be a threat scraping against my skin.

I wasn’t one to ignore an offering.

I licked her palms, tasting the residue of cakes and dirt. Making my way up her arm, I stopped at the crook of her elbow, the scent of the town still clinging to her. I moved across her waist, leaving a glistening trail.

I made my way down to her navel, letting my breath roll over pebbled skin. Condensation formed, a few drops mixing with forming sweat and rolling down.

Parting her thighs, I lapped at the growing wetness between them. Fingers tangled in the scruff of my neck as her breath caught. She fell back on the mat, legs splayed open for me. Trickling folds invited me to devour them further.

Massive paws were on either side of her, claws tearing through the fabric of the cushion. I continued to lick, fangs ever so slightly teasing at flesh. Despite my best attempts at being gentle, I still left marks. Nothing a human could ever leave. Soon, she was covered with them.

If she felt pain, there was no sign. In fact, her legs wrapped tighter around my head. I growled a warning, but the noise only seemed to excite her more. Moans and sighs echoed off the wooden walls.

Such a tribute wasn’t one to be devoured in a couple of bites. I paced myself, drawing out each roll of my tongue, pressing a paw onto her when she attempted to make me speed up once more.

Once more, she was quaking. As she shivered around my tongue, I could feel a need rising inside both of us. The seeds of harvest needed to be sowed.

She must have noticed me dripping, because I was finally released. I stared at the dripping wet, panting heavily. My tongue was close enough to tease it, making her back arch and a shuddering groan escape her.

Without a word, she rolled over onto her stomach, presenting herself to me. Once again, instinct threatened to take over, and I forced myself to remain in control. The literal earth shattering strength I had would make short work of a delicate human body.

No sacrifice had ever been put through such a trial of faith before.

Despite all the preparation and her resolve, she was tight around me. Almost too much. Fists gripped the cushion as she gasped in surprise. This was no human male rutting while wearing a mask. And if I had my way, no hands but mine would ever touch her in this way again.

Once I was inside, my body moved of its own accord. Thrusts were punctuated with grunts and pants, paws covering her hands. I could feel myself being drawn back in when I attempted to pull out, almost like a game.

The motion seemed to help her regain the ability to speak, and soon she was calling out my name over and over. Her hips rocked back, taking me in deeper than before. Initial resistance turned to eagerness, almost too much.

As she came back onto me, I met her with a rhythm of my own. My name was called more times in those few short moments than it had been whispered that entire season.

Such piousness should be rewarded.

I leaned down and licked her cheek in an attempt to be tender. Salt tinged my tongue. Although I knew she wasn’t weeping from sorrow, I still forced myself to slow. My efforts only made her more wild, and she hilted me.

My head shot up toward the moon, and I had to resist the urge to call out and stake my claim. I was glad she was facing away from me, because I worried what would happen if she realized that she could make a God see stars.

The thought of her becoming more bold made me shudder. With fear or excitement, I couldn’t say. It was a line that was easy to to blur.

I ground my hips against her, and felt the release. As it filled her up, I felt a clench that held me fast. I swelled as she did, knotting. Our cries of ecstasy became labored gasps. The sensation sent another shock through me, spurting more into her.

As she came down from the act, I took her into my arms. Despite being slick with sweat, she was all too eager to huddle up against me while I was still inside her. My hand went down to her stomach, and she shivered at the touch, still tender.

I knew the villagers would be coming to the shrine in the morning, to see the result of the ritual.

The seeds had been planted. The sowing had begun.

I wondered what they would reap come next harvest.

Something told me that my own pack would be growing soon.

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cut-content-contest · 11 months

Text

beta Arceus

It appears to be a shoddy place holder for arceus. Silly putty creatre

unused trade theme

A song with two channels, each meant to be played on one of two linked systems while trading Pokemon. It's a shame it was scrapped; it's a nice song once you hear it as it was meant to be played.

tcrf link: https://tcrf.net/Pok%C3%A9mon_Red_and_Blue#Unused_Song

#cut content contest #poll #beta Arceus #Pokemon Diamond/Pearl #unused trade theme #Pokemon Red/Green

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sweatervest-obsessed · 4 months

Text

Sick Summer Days

WC: 2.6k

TW: Dry-heaving, Indiana Jones Spoilers, headaches/migraines.

A/N: Some comfort for our Steve. But also I tried something new and different with my writing and I don't know if I like it yet but oh well!!

If Steve could murder an idea, it would be this one.

Dustin talked him into throwing a major pool party at the end of the school year for all of the little twerps that he was forced into babysitting. They had been passing around themes all month before Steve had butted in and told them that they have access to the pool, and he’ll grill some food, and that was the party they were getting. Maybe, since they were all sixteen now, he would let them have a singular beer.

But the morning of, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. His hair was sticking up in all the wrong ways, his chest ached, his head felt like it was filled with fluid, and to make matters worse, he stubbed his toe twice in the kitchen. His bagel had burnt, the OJ was the kind that had pulp in it (Steve is not a pulp guy.), and the banging on the door was the final straw.

As he swung open the door to curse out Henderson, he saw you. Sure, the little shit was there, along with Max and Lucas, but you were trying to corral the group into being a little quieter.

“Woah Steve, you look like shit man.”

“Thank you so much for that Henderson.”

You looked over at him, a smile across your face that immediately transformed into a frown at the state of his being. Steve usually was shirtless around his house, something you quite enjoyed, but today he was wearing an oversized hoodie along with the sweatpants, and his hair looked like it had not only been entered into an Einstein look alike contest, but won.

While you pressed a quick peck to his lips, the three teens pushed their way into the Harrington Household, booking it to the back doors to get to the pool.

“You okay there Steve?”

He just nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah….just—hasn’t been my morning.” he rasped, not realizing how shot his voice was until now.

“If you want to go lay down while I set up the coolers then I will gladly—”

“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t want you to suffer outside with the delinquents by yourself, that’s just cruel. Plus it’s nothing.” Steve gave you as close to a flirty smile as he could given the circumstances, and squeezed your waist.

You nodded and smiled at him, “Then go clean yourself up Harrington, everyone else is not far behind.”

And like always, you were right. Just as Steve had made it upstairs to change into his swimsuit the rest of the gang had arrived. He could hear them all piling out of their cars, like a wave of sound ready to crash over him and drag him out to sea.

You had been outside, wearing some form of a short sundress, to cover up the bathing suit you were wearing since it was only 10 am, and unlike the kids, you didn’t need to be in the pool right then and there.

Instead, you pulled off your dress, made Robin put sunscreen on your back, and grabbed your sunglasses. You sat down on one of the lounge chairs that you had draped your towel over, pulled out the book you had been reading, and started the sun’s rays on your skin. You didn’t really need to tan, but this process of “warming your body down to the bones” was the best way to start the season out. You were ready to enjoy your day in the sun. But the universe had other plans.

Steve fucking Harrington stepped out of his house in his old Lifeguard swimshorts, the bright red catching your attention. It caused you to miss the fact that his eyes were still tired and he moved a little slower than usual. You moved the book up slightly, trying to cover your blatant stare as he walked by.

He picked the lounge chair right next to you, and sat on it, legs facing you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of your body, almost drooling by the way you looked in your bathing suit, hugging you in all the right places.

He cleared his throat, and smiled when you turned your head to look at him. He had been out in the sun before the summer started, and you could tell because more freckles had popped up, all over his chest, his shoulder, his nose.

“What are you reading?”

Robin snickered from the pool, watching as he tried to play it cool, when all he was trying to do was think about anything besides the things he wanted to do to you while you looked like that.

“Oh, um. It’s part of the summer reading for one of the classes for next fall.” He nodded as you continued. “I’m taking this Dramatic Literature course, you know, like plays, and so we’re starting with this play called Faust, or Doctor Faustus. It’s kind of interesting. It’s about this like twenty-five year old who decides that just being a doctor and smart and hot isn’t enough, so he gets into witchcraft and summons a demon and makes a deal. Basically this demon, Mephisotpheles, or Meph, becomes his servant for like twenty years, or something, and the two of them go back and forth wreaking havoc and everytime Faustus gets a little too ‘God Save Me’, Meph basically throws another sin or indulgence at him and –”

You quickly closed the book and shook your head. “Sorry, I’m probably boring the shit out of you with this.”

Steve smiled at you, “Trust me, you are the last person here I could find boring.”

Dustin and Eddie let out a respective protest, but Steve ignored them because a slight blush had risen to your cheeks, and that was much more interesting than those two.

“Don’t say that too loud or your head will be on a pike before the day is over.”

Steve just smiled and shook his head, placing his hand on your thigh. “Trust me, if I can handle the past three years of our lives, I can handle the two fucking idiots over there.”

“Just be careful then Steve. If I get caught in the crossfire, I’m blaming–” You sat up slightly and pushed your finger against his chest. “You.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. “Yes ma’am.” He muttered and you rolled your eyes, settling back down into your lounger, reading your book.

He was about to say something, but then felt an ache in his chest. Quickly, he excused himself form your side and went into the house, trying to cover up the cough in his throat.

You exchanged confused looks with Robin before looking back at the slider door where Steve had disappeared behind.

Steve was now in the bathroom, dry heaving like his life depended on it. The ache in his chest was making it worse since he felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe, and to make matters worse, the headache came back worse then before. It was one of those migraines that would have caused him to stay in bed all day and disappear from the world. Perks of being constantly bashed in the head.

You knocked on his bathroom door gently and waited for a response. Steve groaned and leaned back against the tub, not really answering you.

“Steve, can I come in?”

When there was no reply, you gently opened the door and slid into the bathroom. You took one look at him and shook your head.

“Harrington, when you aren’t feeling well, you have to tell us. You would make us do the same.” You spoke quietly, almost like you could sense that the problem was his head. Maybe it was the way he was quite literally cradling his head between his knees, but maybe it was because you liked to say you were just really in tune with Steve.

Steve felt as you stood over him. “Steve?”

And when he didn’t answer, he felt as you squatted down next to him; your leg brushing against his.

“Why don’t we get you to lay down for a little bit yeah?”

Steve grumbled an “I’ll be fine.” but did not move from his position.

“Okay big boy let’s not be stupid.” You huffed and very gently placed your hand on his arm, squeezing it ever so slightly to indicate that you were going to win this.

On a better day, Steve might have huffed and puffed, maybe he would have given you lip and told you that he would be fine, but today? Today he just moved one of his hands to yours, a silent plea for help to get up.

“It’s that bad huh.” You whispered, smiling when you saw the ghost of a smile on his face, before another ripple of pain flashed across his face and took the smile away with it. After a minute or so, you had managed to get Steve standing, and leaning against the counter. You hadn’t turned the lights on so the bathroom was still relatively dark (since the curtain was pulled over the window).

“Can you open your eyes or does keeping them shut like that help.”

“I’m fine.” He whispered, opening his eyes, and almost immediately regretting it. He already hated the fact that you had managed to weasel your way into caring for him right now, but now he was trying to shove whatever pain he was feeling into the back of his mind so that you didn’t have to worry so much.

He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were when your worried over him.

“Thank you?” You blushed slightly and kissed his cheek.

“I did not just say that out loud.”

“Yeah you did sweetheart, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Steve thinks you have magiucal abilities or something because he swore the two of you had been standing in the bathroom, but suddenly he was sitting down on his bed. And then when he blinked again, he was laying down in his bed, with a blanket pulled over him. But when he blinked a third time, and his headache was gone, that when he knew he was going to have to have you tested for witchraft since suddenly it was now three in the afternoon, and you were nowhere to be seen, and his headache had all but subsided.

He sat up slowly, and double checked the time on his clock, as well as the date because he had no fucking clue what day it was. When he apparently went to sleep, it was ten am and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but now it was three pm, and pouring rain.

What tipped him off that maybe it was the same day was the scream that came from downstairs, followed by an immediate “COME ON” from one Maxine Mayfield. Steve almost started to run for the stairs, but then heard all of the kids arguing.

Eventually Steve slowly made his way down the stairs, eavesdropping into the kid’s conversation about the fact that in the first Indiana Jones Movie, Indy is completely useless—

You and Steve made eye contact when his foot landed on the bottom stair; an amused look was plastered on your face as the kids continued to argue about the necessity of Harrison Ford.

You had all made them change into dry clothes so that they didn’t get the Harrington’s furniture soaked and moldy, which is something Steve was going to have to thank you for later. You were standing in the door way, clearly moving back and forth from the kitchen to the living room to keep an eye on the kids. He followed you into the kitchen where Jonathan, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy all were sitting at the island, drinking and talking with one another.

“There’s sleeping beauty. How ya feeling bud?”

Steve flashed a quick look of annoyance at Eddie before turning and looking at you, hoping for some explanation.

“Started to pour so we saved as much as we could. You fell asleep around 11, and were out for a few hours.” You explanation was simple was you wrapped your arms around his midriff and looked at him. “Feeling better?”

He nodded and kissed your head. “Y-yeah, sorry just…”

“I know.”

He could not be more grateful for you and the way you treated him—with such love and tenderness. But you never babied him, it was something he despised really, and so when you showed him love and care without treating him like a toddler, he started to accept it more and more.

“There’s some pizza left in the fridge for you, but I did have to literally almost stab Dustin for it so be grateful.”

Steve hummed slightly and kissed your lips. “I would have been okay if you ran him through with the knife.”

Dustin yelled an ‘I heard that’ from the other room, causing the group in the kitchen to let out a collective amused hum.

“Who’s idea was it to put on a movie that causes so many arguments between Max and Dustin?”

You smirked and shrugged. “It keeps them all really engrossed because Max has a crush on Harrison Ford but sees how pointless he is in the film.”

“And this upsets Dustin.” Eddie chimed in. “Which then causes Lucas to get caught inbetween because he also gets offended by what Max says, but sees her point.”

“Plus he’s jealous about her crush.” Robin laughed slightly and took a swig from the bottle in her hand.

“Then Mike joins forces with Dustin and Lucas, while El joins in with Max because she’s not wrong. And then Will tries to calm them down for the whole movie, which then leads to the suggestion of watching the second one, and whether or not Indy is truly relevant to the series at all..” Nancy finished out for you.

“You willingly set them up to argue?”

“If it gives us a reprieve then…Yeah.” Jonathan nodded.

Steve nodded. “Works for me. What happens when the finish with the second film?”

The five of you in the kitchen all chimed in at the same time: “Star Wars”.

You had this down to a science, and handed Steve a beer. “I bet Eddie ten bucks that Dustin’s head wouldn’t burst until the second Star Wars Film. If I win, I’m takin’ ya out ta dinnah babe.”

Steve chuckled at the accent and nodded. “You’re going to lose since Dustin freaks the fuck out every time Luke and Leia kiss.”

You glared over at Eddie who was in conversation with Robin. “That sick son of a bitch.”

Steve kissed your cheek and smiled. “You know I love you so much right?” He whispered, only for you to hear, causing your cheeks to tinge pink. “I appreciate everything you do for me. I don’t tell you that enough.”

Since you might as well start crying if you opened your mouth, you settled for a kiss instead, your insides melting at the way Steve talked to you.

It was a quick kiss since you all heard as Dustin started to lose his cool, before the second Indiana Jones movie had even ended.

“You all forgot one thing, Dustin can’t standing the scene where Indy drinks some sort of magic potion that causes him to almost fry up Willie.” Robin smirked and held out her hand, as Eddie handed over the money to her.

You grumbled but did the same, making sure to not step out of his reach to hand her over the money.

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snaillock · 5 months

Note

prompt 1 and/or 6 w Shidou or Karasu x male! reader? i’m fine w gn! as well :)) thank youu <33

this was supposed to be a halloween themed fic since i got this in october but….. also can’t believe ive never written for shidou b4 holy shit

prompt 1: "what are you do-" "look, now we match!" (feat. shidou ryusei) tags: male!reader

event masterlist

you stood outside in the dark for god knows how long until you finally saw your boyfriend’s car pull up to the curb. you opened the door and quickly got in to escape the cold.

“took you long en- ah! oh god!” you yelped as you took in the sight before you. your odd eccentric little boyfriend, shidou, in the driver’s seat. not only was his face completely covered in face paint, making his usual tanned skin completely white, but it also had a red line of lipstick smeared across his lips, paired with dark smokey eyeshadow. all of that topped off with bright green hair worn down which was a very rare sight.

“jesus christ ryu… why do you look like that? why are you dressed as the joker?” you asked frantically, “don’t we have a party to get to right now?”

“chill out babe… it’s a costume party anyway,” he grinned at your startled reaction, “i didn’t tell you before ‘cause you would totally back out if i did.”

“yeah, you’re right. i definitely would,” you let out a resigned sigh before running your fingers through his now neon green hair. “did you really dye your hair for this costume?” you asked.

“don’t worry,” shidou said nonchalantly, slightly leaning into the touch, “it’s just a temporary dye. one wash and i’ll be back to normal.”

“right, ‘normal,’” you muttered before checking if any green got on your hand. which thankfully, none did. “well i don’t have any costume and i don’t wanna be that fucking guy who shows up to a costume party with no costume so i guess we just gotta cancel plans.” you said, in hopes you can finally escape the party you just didn’t feel like attending.

“wait! don’t worry, i got the perfect thing for that! just close your eyes,” shidou said before rustling through a shopping bag he had in the back seat.

“oh god,” you mumbled before hesitantly closing your eyes, “what are you do-“

you grunted when your words got interrupted by his hands slipping something onto your head and over your face.

“tada!” he said triumphantly as he released whatever hard plasticky material he just placed over your head, “look, now we match!”

you glanced at the overhead mirror to see a mask now on your face, specifically a batman mask. the hard black material stopping right above your nostrils. it suited the long black coat that you just so happened to wear tonight very well, too well actually.

“ryu… are we really going to this party as batman and the joker?” you said apprehensively as you stared at yourself in the mirror with a subtle scowl, unsure of going out like this.

“yeah, come on! it’s just another one of my genius ideas.” he leaned over and wrapped his arm around your shoulders while you glared at him, knowing how his “genius” plans usually go.

you rolled your eyes, though deep down his antics had you feeling slightly amused. you then sighed, “oh what am i gonna do with you, ryu?”

he admired the way you two looked in the tiny mirror with a large grin on his face exaggerated by his dramatic makeup. “god, we look fucking awesome. we’re gonna be the hottest couple in there.”

he then gave you a big and obnoxiously loud kiss on your cheek, leaving a red lip print behind, before starting up the car.

“woah ryu, you’re about to cause a big scandal if batman gets caught kissing the joker.” you let out a soft laugh, playing into his antics, as you wiped the makeup off with your hand. the crack in your unsure demeanor only makes him laugh along with you.

“oh we are so winning the costume contest i signed us up for.”

“wait, you did what?!”

i looked up batman masks on google images and i’m giggling why do they look so fucking goofy

taglist(sign up here!): @leosxrealm @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo @remy-roll @maochira @catmisu @stxxrboy

#★ snail.writes ★#blue lock x reader #shidou x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #blue lock x male reader #shidou x male reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock drabbles #bllk x reader #bllk x male reader

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weemsfreak · 7 months

Text

We Fell In Love In October

This is late late, I have been working on it for so long but I have been busy. It is a fall/halloween story, sooo Happy Halloween!!

Larissa Weems x f!TeacherReader

Warnings: Mention of blood, fake weapon

Autumn held a special place in your heart. This time of year wasn't too chilly or overly warm, and you lived for fall fashion. Halloween, in your opinion, was the supreme holiday, and you'd fight anyone who said otherwise. You weren't particularly keen on horror or gruesome themes, as you were a bit of a pussy, but the mystery and dark undertones were totally your thing.

Donning your trusty combat boots and a burgundy sweater dress, you set out for the quad. The leaves descended gracefully from the trees, adorning both the ground and the sky with their vibrant hues of red, orange, and yellow. Lately, your thoughts have been preoccupied with Halloween costume ideas, an opportunity to indulge in your need to dress up, to temporarily adapt a different persona. You thought it was always interesting to not be yourself, or be a different version of yourself, even if it was just for a day. As you made your way down the path to the decorated school, you allowed the soothing sound of gravel and rustling leaves underfoot to envelop your senses. This morning the students were having in a pumpkin carving contest, and you had a brilliant idea in mind for your class's entry.

"Chemistry!" you exclaimed, presenting your pumpkin idea to your class. Your students returned raised eyebrows and cheers, but it was fitting, you thought, considering you were the chemistry and potions teacher.

As the time for judging arrived, each class eagerly presented their carved pumpkins to the panel of judges, which comprised the school's secretary, the student council president, and Principal Weems. Your students had crafted their pumpkin to resemble a gory scene, complete with brain-like patterns painted on its top. It was an impressive sight, but there was a secret added touch.

When it was your class's turn to showcase their pumpkin, Wednesday and Enid took the lead. Wednesday had attached a small container filled with yeast and water, the vital catalyst, to the top interior of the pumpkin. All eyes in the quad were fixated on her as she raised a carving knife and plunged it downward, piercing the pumpkin's 'brain'. In one swift motion, the knife was withdrawn, taking with it the pumpkin's brain matter. Thick, crimson fluid followed, erupting from the pumpkin's top like a gory volcanic display. The audience's reactions ranged from collective "ew" and "gross" exclamations to screams, but you took note that Principal Weems, in stark contrast to some others, appeared unfazed. Your heart raced with excitement when you noticed a hint of a smirk on Wednesday's face. The audacious display, which was not well-received by others, brought her a sliver of joy, which in turn made your day successful.

Enid then cleared her throat and proceeded to explain the concept behind the pumpkin's gruesome spectacle.

"We employed a simple experiment of 30% hydrogen peroxide, dish soap, and red food coloring. When Wednesday stabbed Mr. Gourd of Gore here, she introduced yeast into the mixture as a catalyst, which triggered the rapid and bloody reaction." Enid then went on about the scientific principles at play, and you reveled in the amused expressions of your students. While you loved artistic and engaging activities with your students, you believed that there were valuable lessons to be learned in every aspect of life.

The principal approached the lectern with her signature smile, and you felt butterflies invade your stomach as she spoke.

"This event has been an absolute delight, brimming with fantastic ideas! I want to thank everyone who took part." You watched in awe as her gaze wandered through the audience, ultimately landing on you. She sent a sly grin your way as she subtly fluttered her lashes, before lowering her head to open the piece of paper she was holding.

"The victor of this competition is none other than 'The Gourd of Gore!'" Your students erupted in cheers and applause, and Enid enthusiastically drug Wednesday up to the lectern to receive their prize.

🎃

By day's end, you found yourself utterly drained. Your students had been unusually rowdy, likely due to the multiple anticipated fall-themed activities the principal had organized. The events that she was so enthused about included the harvest festival, a trip to a corn maze and pumpkin picking, and costume day. It hadn't escaped you, however, that Principal Weems had become noticeably less enthusiastic about these activities since the harvest festival.

As you descended the stairs toward the main entrance, your hand reached for the door handle. Just then, a familiar voice cut through the air, though it was far from pleasant. This was not the velvety tone or accent that pleased your ears, no. Instead, it was a voice of judgment, a gravely voice. You heard the words, a sentence that made your teeth clench in anger as you quickly travelled towards it.

"Boys, look at this lesbian."

Wide eyed you turned the corner and immediately spotted the source, Kyle, laughing with his friends. You glanced around to see who the target of his ridicule was, and your eyebrows knit in disbelief when you found her. She was stopped in her tracks, blinking, silent, inhibited. You, too, froze, trying to comprehend the situation until your anger took over.

"Slenderman, she's woman Slenderman!" Kyle hollered, pointing at her as he hunched over in hysterics. Principal Weems still stood, her mouth agape and her eyes wide, rendered silent. You watched the gears turning in her mind, knowing she should address the situation, but reluctant to respond to such insult, such an audacious comment from a man, a boy.

"Kyle!" you seethed, striding purposefully toward him, your fists clenched. Kyle turned to face you, his eyes widening. "You will never judge someone for things beyond their control, you will never judge a woman, full stop," you said, your anger evident.

"You will never understand what it's like to walk in someone else's shoes. Apologize to Principal Weems this instant."

Ironically, it seemed that Kyle was more frightened of you than he was of Principal Weems, as he would never dare say such derogatory remarks to you, or so you thought.

Kyle's smug expression transformed into a sly smile as he turned toward the principal. She had ventured closer now, and she met his gaze with her lips pursed.

"I want to hear it from her," he said, narrowing his eyes at her. He then pointed directly at you, "Or does a teacher need to stand up for the principal, huh? You're even more bitchy than her" he chuckled, smiling at you menacingly.

"Detention tomorrow at 4, Mr. Dunn." The principal spoke with force, her tone abrupt enough to make you flinch. She straightened to her full height as she stared down at Kyle with the heat of the sun. Leaning closer to him, she lightly pressed her finger to his chest. She spoke quietly, yet you could hear how the words hissed through her teeth.

"If you fail to attend, this 'lesbian Slenderman' will see to it that you are expelled."

🎃

You were not particularly hard on your students, but you weren't easy on them either. You had standards, you hated laziness, and you had no patience for any foolish behavior. Of course you were human too, you understood where the line was between slacking and being inhibited, between acting out and having fun. Larissa admired your character, you knew what you wanted and you weren't scared to voice it. Occasionally, she heard students whisper about how you were 'worse' than her, but she honestly got a kick out of it.

Lunch today was provided by the Weathervane, courtesy of Marilyn, who settled down with you at your desk.

"Okay, I got three different sandwich's, so you can pick. I also got a hot chocolate, a matcha latte, and a chai tea!"

Marilyn went on to talk about the planned events, pulling both chuckles and eye rolls from you. She was delightful to talk to, but there was a point, the red head just had so much energy. The principal walked through your door suddenly and slowly made her way to your desk. Your head snapped to her as soon as you heard her enter and you offered her the biggest smile, joy filling your body and pouring out of the seams. Marilyn turned around to find the principal when she noticed your change in demeanour.

"Oh! Hi Principal Weems" she chirped.

"Marilyn, Y/N" the principal greeted smoothly. Marilyn faced you once again, her observation catching you off guard. "You know y/n, you're a lot like Wednesday" she commented.

Your smile faded as you looked at her, "What?"

It wasn't exactly an insult, per se, but you had no clue where she was going with this.

"Well, you're usually pretty neutral, and you don't smile much or seem to express much enjoyment." You cut Marilyn off with a glare, unsure of what she was implying. "But, whenever you see something or someone that you really like, you light up!" Marilyn finished with a smile.

You blinked in surprise, not realizing you had such a noticeable reaction. You glanced at the principal, who was giving you a knowing smirk. Oh this was embarrassing, you didn't mean to do that, you didn't mean to be so obvious. Sure, when you looked at Larissa you got butterflies, you felt warm and fuzzy, and your lips involuntarily stretched into a smile so big that your eyes almost shut, but did you not smile otherwise? Were you really that unapproachable?

When you said nothing, the principal spoke up.

"I wanted to compliment you on your pumpkin idea from the other day, y/n."

Marilyn had finished eating and decided to excuse herself as she bid you both goodbye. Once she left, the tall woman took her seat. She agreed with Marilyn, you were a bit like Wednesday. She had taken notice of a change in your demeanour, from watching your reserved nature when around your students or others, to when you were around her. She found it incredibly endearing and cute, how she seemed to make you happy with her presence alone.

The principal batted her lashes at you, "I thought your classes pumpkin was quite intelligent. It was well executed, if you know what I mean."

You giggled, "Thank you Larissa, I knew the students would like it."

Larissa smirked as she looked you up and down, her voice dropping an octave, "I was quite impressed."

A blush so deep formed on your cheeks that Larissa had to hold back a laugh. Attempting to avert her gaze, you noticed that Marilyn had left the third drink on your desk. You pushed it towards the woman, "Hot chocolate?"

Larissa accepted gladly, wondering if you knew of her love for hot chocolate. "Would you like to join me for a drink tonight? My office, 7pm?" Larissa watched you with hopeful eyes as she forced the question out of her mouth.

You were surprised, allowing your face to contort into one of confusion before you realized that you had.

"Oh, of- of course!" you stammered.

🎃

Nervously, you entered the Principal's office and sat down at her instruction. She smiled down at you as she neared the couch and offered you a glass of red. You two chatted about autumn and the Nevermore family for a while, but you couldn't help but notice Larissa shivering slightly. You realized that she had a blanket on her lap, and there was no fire lit as usual.

"Larissa are you cold? Why don't I light a fire for you?"

Larissa sighed and glanced at the fireplace, gesturing with her hand in dismissal. "I just haven't had the chance to get more wood. I'll be fine."

You smirked at her, "Nonsense, I got you." Standing up, you walked over to the fireplace and knelt down in front of it. Placing your hand on the cold stone floor, a warm fire appeared right before you. You returned to the couch, and Larissa blinked at you in amazement, a smile gracing her lips. You chuckled at the woman as you sent her a wink, "I'm magic."

"Thank you for standing up for me the other day."

Larissa spoke quietly as she looked into the crackling fire, breaking the silence. "I wasn't myself, I was caught up in my head, and when Kyle insulted me I- I just didn't know what to say because, well, he's right."

You set your eyes on golden hair and pale skin illuminated with an orange glow. You furrowed your brows at her, he was right?

"What? Kyle? He's not right. He's rude, judgemental, he doesn't care about anyone."

Larissa nodded her head in agreement as she hummed, "Yes, he definitely needs something, discipline of some sort." She looked over to you, her gaze boring into your own, and you suddenly understood what she meant. You took her hand in yours and leaned closer to the woman, "What was he right about, Larissa?"

The principal didn't pull way, but you cold tell by her body language that she was bracing herself for rejection.

"I am a lesbian, and I am as tall as slenderman" she chuckled, swallowing the lump in her throat. You let out a scoff that was followed by a laugh, and you gripped her hand tighter in reassurance. You smiled at her, "Well, if that's the case, you're the most beautiful lesbian slenderman that I've ever seen."

🎃

You were overly excited to visit the corn maze and pumpkin patch. You loved picking out pumpkins and gourds, white ones, black ones, painting them and decorating with them. You took in the crisp autumn day as the chatter of the students was heard in the background, it brought you peace.

As you helped organize the students at the start of the corn maze and settled yourself at the back of the group, Larissa made her way to your side. The woman in charge of the corn maze then asked for the students' attention. "Alright then, the pumpkin patch will be found at the end of the corn maze, enjoy!"

Just as the students began their journey through the maze, she added a "Oh I forgot to mention, there's a bit of mud in the maze, so hopefully you're all wearing boots!"

You immediately turned your attention to Larissa. You were dressed in cozy fall attire and your boots, but you knew that she was, in fact, not. Larissa, in her infinite wisdom, had chosen fashion over function by wearing high heels. A light blush graced her cheeks as she realized why you were looking at her. "Maybe I'll stay behind," she casually suggested. You knew how much Larissa had been looking forward to this event, listening to her talk about wanting to pick pumpkins from the patch. You were about to agree with her, offering to select pumpkins on her behalf, but a better idea popped into your mind.

"Well, let's see how muddy it is. Maybe you can get around it!" you said with a playful grin.

After a few turns of the maze, you realized that Larissa wouldn't simply be able to 'get around it.' "Shit," you muttered as you gazed at the muddy path ahead. Larissa sighed, "Well, I tried." Your eyes sparkled as you looked up at the woman, and you couldn't resist the chance to be her knight in shining armor, or whatever version of that you were.

"Principal Weems," you declared, playfully bowing to her, "It's clear you missed the memo about fall footwear, but fear not, for I shall carry you over the mud."

Larissa raised an eyebrow, her expression one of surprise and delight. "What?" she asked, shaking her head.

"I will carry you, if you wish," you replied, offering her your hand. Reluctantly, she looked between you, her heels, and the mud, before finally placing her hand in yours. You carefully lifted her into your arms bridal style, reveling in the delighted giggle she let out as you scooped her legs off the ground.

With each step through the mud, you tried to watch your footing, but your focus remained on her. She was so close to you, clinging to you tightly as you did her. A huge smile lit up her face as she took in the scenery, and your heart swelled at the thought of her enjoying herself with you.

As you carried Larissa through the maze, she pointed out various things to make the experience fun. The maze was not particularly long, so you arrived at the pumpkin patch before you knew it. As you gently set Larissa back on her feet, you realized that you hadn't noticed when the mud ended, and you had carried her the entire way. Maybe she hadn't seen the end of the mud either, or maybe she simply didn't want to mention it.

The pumpkin patch spread out before your eyes, an array of different shapes, sizes, and shades of orange, white, and dark green. You picked your way through the field, choosing a white pumpkin and two different-sized orange ones. You watched the principal as she carefully padded up the rows of pumpkins. You wanted to laugh, her hands clasped in front of her, posture straight as a board. She was observing the scenery before her, and so were you. Your attention was diverted to the students, who ran around in a competitive game to find the perfect pumpkin. You watched them for a while, reminiscing about the carefree days of your youth when you, too, could play and have fun.

Your gaze returned to Larissa, who was a few rows away from you, getting help with cutting a large white pumpkin from its vine. Despite getting lost in the fall endeavour, you remembered that you were, in fact, a teacher.

"Be careful please, I don't want anyone tripping over vines and getting hurt!"At the sound of your voice, the principal looked up at the students. They were still playing the game and having fun, but they were noticeably being careful. She then shifted her gaze in your direction and silently mouthed a thank-you, winking at you.

Exiting the maze was more challenging than entering it. You opted for a different route, hoping for less mud, but you soon discovered that it was no better. You and Principal Weems had been keeping up with the students until you noticed that she was no longer by your side. You halted when you felt the absence of her presence and looked down at the ground. It seemed you were standing in a sea of mud, and it extended as far as you could see.

"Crap," you muttered under your breath. You turned and walked back to Larissa, who was chucking at you profusely.

"What's wrong? Am I heavier than you had anticipated?" Your cheeks reddened as you looked up at the woman, she was actually lighter than you had expected, or perhaps you were just stronger.

"Of course not. I would carry you any day, my lady."

Making your way through the maze with Larissa in your arms was tough. You both got caught in a dead end a couple of times, Larissa's laugh when you did enlightening your heart immensely. You placed her down when there was no mud, as she insisted, but when the mud returned, you scooped her back up. Eventually you caught sight of the end of the mud and realized that the maze would soon be ending. You held in a laugh as you purposely took a wrong turn and ended up at a dead end again.

"Oh frig me and my horrible sense of direction" you said, smirking at the woman in your arms. Larissa let out a loud laugh and made your breath hitch as she pressed her cheek to yours, hugging you close. She knew what you were doing, and she thought you were adorable.

"You're a joy to be around, darling."

🎃

After the schools rendezvous, you ventured to the Weathervane. Standing in line, you were trying, and failing, to decide on a drink. Your attention was rather focused on something else, like a tall blonde standing a few people ahead of you. So lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice when a student made his way to your side.

"Principal Weems and the mayor huh? Bet they're banging."

Kyle said it so nonchalantly that it took your brain a minute to register, it was so unhinged and random. You turned to him wide eyed, ready to knock him out, but as you shifted your gaze, he was beelining to the exit of the Weathervane. You stood with your mouth open in shock, unable to formulate a response or punishment for that statement. Leaning to the side, you glanced ahead and realized that Larissa was indeed in line with the mayor.

Larissa and the mayor, Larissa and the mayor. They worked together, they had a cooperation, but it wasn't like that, was it?

The more you thought about it, the more you rejected that theory. But the more you thought about it, the more bothered you got. You couldn't shake the growing jealousy.

Visions of them together invaded your thoughts, an ethereal frame against, well, a man. Large hands on soft thighs, plump red lips on rough ones, delicate pale skin against hairy skin, the sounds she would create, sounds you wanted to hear, sounds of - "No!"

You shook your head frustratedly, forgetting yourself. This kid made you angry, Larissa made you irrational, the thought of her with someone else made you insane. Up ahead, you noticed Larissa had directed her attention toward you and offered a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she waved. It was as if she knew you were thinking about her, although you hoped she didn't. You were far too flustered to even smile back, and you didn't have a clue of what to do about Kyle. So, you made the quick decision to take your leave, before you did or said something stupid.

🎃

Since Halloween was on a Saturday, Friday was costume day. You had thought hard about what or who you wanted to dress up as, and you finally settled on an idea. A rather clever idea, as you thought she would get a kick out of it. You handed treats to your students and complimented them on their costumes. Some students didn't dress up, and some dressed up just to spite others.

"Are you supposed to be Principal Weems?" Wednesday asked, looming over your table in the quad. You swallowed your lunch, nodding at the girl. "Uh yes, kind of" you chuckled. Wednesday looked you up and down, nodding in approval. "I like it" she said before walking away.

At days end you made your way through the halls. You were disappointed about your lack of Halloween plans, especially since your favorite holiday was on a Saturday. You were also extremely disappointed that you hadn't seen Principal Weems today, perhaps she was busy.

Taking the longer way to your quarters, you stopped as you approached the hallway which held the principals office. Your feet had involuntarily brought you this way, and now that you were here, they would walk you right past her door. As you entered the hallway, Kyle popped out of nowhere and scared the absolute crap out of you.

"Hi Ms" he said, standing directly in front of you as he gazed around frantically. Your face scrunched as you looked down at him in question, he was definitely up to something.

"Kyle, what are you doing?" Kyle turned to look at the large doors behind him before he turned his attention to you.

"I'm just uh, supervising the hallway. It's nice outside, go enjoy the day" he said, desperately trying to usher you away. "What do you mean supervising? Why are-" You were cut off by a horrified scream, a scream that sounded like it came from her office. Your head swivelled to the doors before your gaze locked on Kyle.

"What did you do!?" you growled at him. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, "I didn't do anything!"

You scoffed and made your way frantically to the doors, but you were stopped by Kyle grabbing your hand and putting himself in your path. "Don’t go in there! Principal Weems said that she doesn't want to be bothered."

You shook your hand lose from his grip and stared down at him menacingly.

"Get out of here now, or you will be in so much trouble so help me god" you spat. You stepped around him without question and entered the principal's office, almost slamming the door behind you. You scanned the office quickly and found nothing out of the ordinary, except for a box on the desk. Walking towards it, sounds of sniffles and whimpers became louder until you found the principal. You hurried around the desk and almost fell to your knees at the sight of the woman sitting on the floor in tears. She covered her face with one hand, and held a photo in the other. Before you could ask her what was wrong, your eyes landed on the photo. Dark ink printed a picture of you, lying on the floor covered in blood. Confused, you scrambled to your feet and peered into the box on her desk.

Inside was a pint of blood labelled with your name and a letter on top.

Dear Principal Weems,

I believe I have taken the life of one of your staff. My deepest apologies, but my thirst does not discriminate.

Happy Halloween,

your favourite Vampire

"What the hell" you whispered, staring down at the note. Just then, it all fell into place. Kyle must have figured out that you had a thing for the principal, as he has seen you two together recently, and he has been super annoying about it. It was sly for him to use Larissa's care for you against her, and it was believable, after all he was a vampire. But why would he do this to her? It was an unnecessary, lousy prank.

You settled down on the floor next to the woman and took her hand in yours, throwing the photo to the side.

"Larissa" you whispered, stroking her arm. She let out a sob as she ignored you, it was like she didn't realize anyone had entered her office.

"Larissa I'm not dead" you said a little louder. You reached up to pull her other hand away from her face and she flinched at the contact. Her head spun to meet you in a panic, wide eyed she let out a gasp.

"D-darling! You’re here?!" she questioned, bringing her hand to cup your face to make sure that you were real. You placed your hand on top of hers as you giggled, "Yes Rissa, I'm not a ghost."

The principal closed her eyes and focused on her breathing as you watched her. She was extremely frazzled, not that one wouldn't be if they had found out one of your staff members (and hopefully friend) was murdered.

"Come, lets move to the couch" you offered as you stood and helped her do the same.

You sat close to the woman and looked down at the photo. "Someone's good at photoshop" you murmured.

Larissa reached out and slowly took it from you. You watched as she stared down at the photo, small tears escaping her as she tried to compose herself.

"So it's, it's just a prank?" she asked through sniffles.

You scooted closer to her and rubbed at her back soothingly, "Yes Riss, it's just a stupid prank. That's not my blood in that jar, hopefully it's not anyone's." The principal eventually calmed thanks to your presence. You noticed her attempt to put on her personal or perhaps professional façade, but she gave up as her nerves were far too shot.

She whispered, "I thought I had lost another Nevermore family member. I've been so on edge lately, I thought it had to be true."

You stopped all movements and leaned closer to her, looking her in the eyes. She wouldn't look at you.

"What do you mean another Nevermore family member?"

Larissa's gaze slowly but surely met yours, and you watched as her lower lip quivered.

"I haven't been entirely truthful with you" she murmured.

As you stared into pools of blue, you could see that she was hurting, she was tired. So, you decided to let it go, for now. "It's alright Rissa. Let's just deal with Kyle, shall we?"

Larissa nodded her head before looking back down at the photo, not wanting to deal with it at all. The thought of you dead, not being here with her anymore, not taking care of the students any longer, not carrying her through corn mazes, and not looking at her with those adoring eyes, made her heart break. She could no longer wait.

"Would you like to come to my house tomorrow? Perhaps we can hand out candy and watch a movie?"

Larissa looked down at you with hope as she wiped a tear from her cheek.

A smile instantly lit up your face, maybe Halloween would be fun after all. You nodded enthusiastically, and you watched the woman's expression brighten.

Until her brows knit. She looked you up and down, taking note of your elegant updo, your red lip, your pearl earrings, your high collared knee length dress, and your heels. You looked like her, a rather dark mysterious version of her, like she was the white swan and you were the black.

"Are you dressed like me?" she asked with a bit of insecurity. Of course, you did look like her, but she never thought that you would purposely dress like her. She didn't think you'd adapt her style, didn't think that she was beautiful, not enough for someone to want to look like her on purpose.

You let out an embarrassed giggle and nodded in confirmation as you played with your hands. A huge grin grew on the older woman's face and she let out a loud laugh. You smiled at her mascara smudged skin as she leaned in and took your face in her hands. Her eyes scanned your face before she looked you in the eye, "You are absolutely precious."

🎃

Draping a long black hooded dress over your body, you applied some dark makeup. You adjusted your hood and added a tattoo to your forehead, finishing your look as one of the Dimitrescu daughters. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you noted that you were rather creepy looking, even sans blood. Your intention wasn't to scare the kids, you didn't want to scare them, or maybe you did. You shrugged as you grabbed your fake sickle, making sure your powers were in check before setting out for the night.

You made your way through the woods, a torch being the only source of light besides the moon. You finally stumbled onto the road and giddily set out for the principals house. You had wanted to be there before it fell dark, but you had a matter to attend to where the darkness was paramount. So, you skipped down the road with your sickle in hand, enjoying the rustling leaves in the breeze of the night.

When you arrived at the principals house, there was a small line of trick or treaters. You watched from afar as she handed out treat bags, big ones at that, and made conversation with all of the kids. She looked over the moon to be seeing them all, asking about their costumes and plans for the night. Her red lipped smile was the cutest thing you've seen in your entire life, and all you wanted in the world was to kiss it off of her. Your gaze moved around her house, and you wondered how you missed all of the decorations. The large windows at the front of her house were lit up by orange, purple, and green lights from the inside, contrasting brightly against the dark outside. There were a couple pumpkins on the step, and one of those huge skeletons in her yard, the 12 foot one that you've always wanted. You decided to pop in line behind the kids, and you squinted your eyes at the woman, as if that would help you see better. She definitely had a costume on, was she a devil? You squealed internally as you took in her red horns, choker, and black cape. This was the first time you've seen her in black, and damn did it look good on her.

You held your sickle over your shoulder as you waited for the kid in front of you to leave and for blue eyes to meet yours. When they did, her jaw dropped slightly and she paused, looking you up and down.

"Y/n?!" she squeaked, shaking her head at you.

You smiled, "Hi Rissa!"

The woman pulled you into a half hug before stepping to the side, "Why are you in line? Come in darling."

You stepped into her house and immediately went wide eyed at the sight of the elaborate design.

"I was waiting for candy" you chuckled.

You saw Larissa's side smirk as she continued to pass the treat bags out, and you barely caught a chocolate bar that she sent flying your way.

🎃

You were passing out treats when some students arrived at the doorstep.

"Oh! Hi girls, how's it going?" you greeted.

"Great!" Enid squealed, pulling at Wednesday's hand in excitement. As Larissa appeared behind you to greet the students, she placed her hands on your shoulders, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ah, girls, do come in."

"So Principal Weems, you’re a devil?" Enid asked brightly.

"Sure am" Larissa replied, collecting some treats to give them.

Enid then looked at you, "And Ms., you're a…a"

"A Dimitrescu daughter, obviously" Yoko said.

You laughed and winked at Yoko, "Exactly."

Wednesday looked you up and down, her monotone never faltering, "Yesterday she was Weems, today she's a killer." Larissa returned to your side and handed them all treats. She then turned her attention to you, smirking down with dark eyes, "I appreciated her costume yesterday, it was very clever, and detailed" she breathed.

You flicked through the Halloween movies looking for something good to watch. Your favorites were along the lines of Beetlejuice, The Nightmare Before Christmas, and Edward Scissorhands, but you've watched them SO many times already. Larissa placed a charcuterie board on the table and passed you a glass of wine, taking her cape off. As she sat next to you, you couldn't help but let your eyes trail down her figure. She was wearing black leather pants and a tight long sleeve shirt, you almost spit out your wine at the sight. Larissa never failed to notice your expressions or actions, no matter how subtle.

She scooted closer to you and batted her lashes, "I'm so glad you came over darling. I was worried I had made this food for nothing" she chuckled. Your lower lip quivered at the thought of someone standing her up. You were elated at the thought of her wanting to hangout with you, but putting this much effort in and being worried that you wouldn't show? She was too sweet for this world.

"I would never leave you hanging Rissa. I'm sorry I was late, I had to tend to…something first." Larissa tilted her head at you, wondering what on earth you were tending to.

She pursed her lips, "You know, we never did come up with a discipline for Kyle."

You snickered down at the floor, shaking your head amusedly. "I may have taken that into my own hands."

The woman's mouth opened in question before she closed it, grabbing her wine off of the table and settling beside you. She smiled and brought the glass to her lips, "Go on."

-A couple hours ago-

Just as it was getting dark out, you set out for the old Gates' mansion. You had left a note for Kyle and a few of his friends, anonymously, for them to meet up there. Of course you didn't know if they would actually show, but to your delight, they did. You hid behind a wall by the entrance of the house, watching as the group conversed. It was dark now, the only source of light being their flashlights.

"Why are we here dude?" one of his friends asked nervously.

"I don't know man! I got a note!" Kyle replied.

"Oh sorry, I didn't realize that you got a note!" his other friend said sarcastically.

It took everything in you to not laugh at their bickering, boys. Once you figured it was time, you made a loud noise to get their attention.

"What the hell was that?" Kyle questioned, fear evident in his voice.

Just then, you flicked your wrist, and in a second the house was illuminated by a ring of fire. You peeked out from behind the wall, seeing the boys staring at the flames in terror.

With a nod of your head, a message was burning on the front lawn.

'Kyle, we know what you did. We're coming for you'

The boys stepped away quickly when they felt the heat, and Kyle went wide eyed as he read the message.

"Shit boys! Let's get out of here!" he hollered.

You could hear the horror in his voice, but it only made you laugh menacingly. Once they had vanished, you cut the fire off, no trace of the event left.

"And then I came here" you smiled. Larissa's jaw was on the floor, staring at you in disbelief.

"Y/n I- I don't know what to say. Are you sure you weren't too hard on him?"

Despite Larissa's attempt to portray her usual headmistress demeanour, you could see her smirking.

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head, "Rissa, there are a couple things he's done that you actually don't know about. So, no, I don’t think I was too hard on him."

You paused, "Plus, I wanted to get revenge, for us" you winked.

🎃

You agreed on a horror movie, to your dismay. You didn't want to look like a wimp in front of Larissa, so you clicked on the conjuring as you swallowed the lump in your throat. You turned your focus to other things while the movie played, things like the interior design of the house, your costume (which you thought was fire), and Larissa herself, who was lost in the movie. You watched as she sipped her wine, plump lips resting on the rim of the glass. 'What a good distraction, just drink' you thought.

When you got tired of that, you turned to the movie, hoping you could stick it out. But as a particularly horrifying string of music played, you squealed and buried your head into the woman's shoulder. Larissa let out a soft laugh as she brought her hand to stroke at your hair.

"What's the matter love? You don't like scary movies?" You shook your head no, holding onto her arm.

"Do you want me to turn it off?" she asked quietly, to which you sat up and quickly said "No!"

You stuck it out for awhile, watching the movie while partially distracting yourself with snacks and wine. Some of it was hilarious to be honest, but certain parts you just couldn't do. Larissa noticed as you sat wide eyed, your breathing staggered as you attempted to calm yourself. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to her, which immediately brought you some peace. You smiled as you continued to watch the movie, but when a jump scare happened, you grabbed the woman tightly and buried your face in her neck. Your eyelashes brushed against her skin as you blinked, it was dark and you felt safe. She was so soft, her skin smelled of lavender, and she was so, so comfortable. When you felt her settle into your touch and pull you tighter, you closed your eyes and let your breath become even once again.

You didn't know how long it had been before the movie ended and Larissa turned her face toward yours, her chin resting lightly against your forehead. You lifted your head from her neck and peered up at her, the light burning your eyes. She smiled caringly down at you, and you both sat in silence as you scanned the lines on her soft skin.

"Would you like to take a walk, darling?" she whispered.

You sat up eagerly before looking out into the night and sighing sarcastically, "Sounds like something you'd say If you wanted to murder me." You then picked up your fake sickle, "Good thing I have this!"

🎃

Larissa led you through her backyard and into the woods. She had assembled a breathtaking light up trail around the perimeter of her yard, white lights hanging from the trees and leaves scattered along the dirt path. You sauntered through the woods as you took in the beauty of the trees, reveling in the colors one last time before fall would fade and winter would come. Larissa basked in the peace and in your presence, and you could tell that she appreciated nights like these, she needed more nights like these. You entwined your fingers with hers and stroked your thumb over the back of her hand gently as you walked side by side. You then snickered as you pointed to her shoes, she wasn't wearing heels this time.

"Someone didn't want me to carry them tonight, I see" you spoke sarcastically. Larissa looked down at her boots and quickly removed them, leaning on you for support.

"Oh no, now how will I walk through this path!?" she said, bringing her hands to her face in faux panic. You rolled your eyes at her and scooped her up, loving the giggle she let out.

At the end of the path there was a bench, a small spot decorated with pumpkins and gourds. You sat down on the bench and placed Larissa in your lap, holding her close with your arms around her waist. You wrapped a blanket around her, scared that she might be cold.

"Thank you, love" she whispered, resting her head on your shoulder.

You both basked in the calmness of the night, finding comfort and warmth in each others embrace.

Larissa looked up at the bright full moon, "It's such a gorgeous night."

She then turned to you, her face only inches away from yours. You watched as she spoke, watched her lips move in a taunting manner, a seducing manner.

She was beauty, grace, she was gentle and kind. She was pure, unique, she was stunning. The sweetest woman you've ever met was sitting in your lap, her melodic voice sounding for only you to hear.

Yet, you were unsure of what she was saying as you scanned your eyes over her delicate face. You brought your hand up and traced your finger over her smile lines.

"Y/n? Are you listening?"

Your gaze shifted from her lips to her eyes, bright and wide and questioning.

"Can I kiss you?" you whispered, stroking your thumb over her bottom lip lightly.

Larissa's eyebrows softened, her surprise evident. She didn't speak, so you took that as a no and removed your hand from her face. As you backed away and went to apologise, the woman pulled you against her, slamming her lips gently against yours.

You hummed into the kiss as she caught you off guard, threading your fingers through her light hair. The taste of red lipstick and wine overtook your senses, feeling her exhale against your skin made you shiver.

She pulled away, stroking your cheek with her thumb and resting her forehead against yours.

"I noticed how much you like Halloween, love. Would you like to carve pumpkins together? Maybe roast some pumpkin seeds?"

You squealed in excitement as you nodded your head, grabbing her face and pressing your lips against hers with need. You gave her light but meaningful pecks on the lips before moving to her cheeks and forehead.

You then tucked your head into her neck, "I wish this night didn't have to end."

Larissa lifted your head gently and pressed her cheek against yours, both of you gazing up at the moon.

She pressed a kiss to your forehead, "When we're together, darling, every night is Halloween."

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principal larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwendolineuniverse #principal weems #lesbian #larissa weems fanfic #larissa x reader #so gay omg #larissa weems x reader #halloween fic

210 notes · View notes

rzyraffek · 1 year

Note

Omg tysm! The last request was very cute. :3 I have ONE MORE.slashers at a pool party ★ ★ for like, summer lol lol

Also, I really luv your blog, its so cute :33

Omg yay summer themed headcanons! Sadly it's cold today but I will try to get into mood😍

Sfw, they/them

Summer(mostly pool and swiming) with slashers!!

Billy Lenz

Buy god damn SUNSCREAM he will be red after 10minutes of hanging out outsite

The sun is a deadly laser

Pretends he is a shark and attacks their legs when underwater

Also loves to splash and do waves

spooked of hairdryer and comb, he rather look like wet rat

Begs them to buy those funny shaped rubber things that you can lay on (guys I have no clue how those are called so I iwol just put photo at the end of fic if you are confused

Micheal Myers

...

Hm no

No i dont think i will

The closest he ever been to big body of water was when he was drowning somone

I doubt he can swim, so even if he would appear in pool he would just walk on bottom, hhh goofy

Hates wet cothes

And sun

And hot temperatures

Brahms Heelshire

Hhehe water

This guy won't swim, he will just lay/sit in water

Guy looks like dead body lol he just... lays there?

But when s/o gets near he will jump attack them, also.... nice outfit s/o

He is definitely type of guy who loves summer

Will forgot sunscreen and turn into tomato soup

Yautja

Purr hot weather he like

I swear s/o jumped into water for fun and this guy had the biggest heart attack of century "AAA MATE WHY DID OU JUMP!! WHO KNOWS IF ITS SAFE??? WHO KNOWS MAYBE WATER IS TOXIC?? DONT DO THAT!" he also jumped right after them lol

After making sure that, no yaujta water isn't poisonous and yes s/o can swim

Probably he can easly stand on bottom and still have (at least) his chest above water level

Also will pick s/o up while they are mid-swim like' a fish👹 and later throws them back in water ya go

Asa Emory

Will just vibe at shore, sunbathing

Yeah your doing great love, nice swimming... now lemmie just lay down and zzz

Acts like that one mom on beach that never enters water and just doest really care

Yeah yeah just dont drown and do no splash me, if you splash me im going to take your PlayStaton4 privileges

A mimir

Also while yall go next to pool he is 100% throwing them in

Jason

😰

Eeh you sure about that?? Water

He will stick to shallow part of pool

Going to be worried about s/o especially if they do some epic tricks. Yeah that's cool that you can do a flip in water but pls it's scary :(

He enjoys doing lil splashes and just picking them up

Pls hold his hand

Eddie gluskin

Oh my love nice outfit you got

Huh me? Water? Aw don't be silly honey

He will just stick to sitting on edge of pool and watching them swim, do not splash him!! His outfit is too pretty >:( grr

If s/o pushes him into water he will litteraly try to drown them (in wacky way)

Hush

He is the one inviting them! He found some random lake in middle of knowhere lol

Will probably do some dumb contest 'yo swims there the fastest gets a free kiss🤭' *points at other shore 5km away*

Will pick them up underwater and be like "haha look what cool fish I found i Will totaly make dinner out of you" drags out of lake and tickles or something idk hes weird

Also im writing this right before the most important exam of this month cuz if I wont pass it I wont pass this year🥳🤪 wish me luck, chemisty sucks

thats the billy lenz thing i was talking about.

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familyvideostevie · 7 months

Text

october thirty-first

day thirty-one: steve harrington last halloween didn’t end that well for you and steve. but this year? much better. | a no good at waiting one-shot, fluff, smut, mdni, 18+ | 2.4k detailed content warnings: fem!reader, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, riding, dirty talk, some aftercare-ish

“We're doing it this year, Steve.”

Your boyfriend looks unamused from behind his aviators. The sun set hours ago but he won't take them off because it “compromises his costume.”

“Jesus,” he mutters. “For real? You actually want to?” You both know Steve isn't great at saying no to you, even when it comes to going on the haunted hay ride at this year's Sara's Farm Halloween Festival. Steve only had to work the first few hours and make sure no one sustained bodily injury during the pumpkin carving contest, so now you're walking around, taking in all the fun.

You're pressed close to him — it's cold, no surprise for Indiana — and wish you had another layer on. Steve convinced you to dress in vaguely Top Gun themed clothes to honor the movie he's been obsessed with since you saw it in theaters. He's in a patched aviator jacket, jeans that hug his ass sinfully, and the stupid glasses. You've tried to look like Tom Cruise's savvy analyst girlfriend by putting on a leather jacket and red lipstick.

“We're grown ups,” you say, bumping his shoulder with yours as you approach the line for the hay ride. “We can handle it.” Robin and Eddie are working the route again and this year you're pretty sure some of the high school kids are, too. They all begged you to get Steve on it and what's love if not taking a chance every now and then to pull a fast one on your partner?

“Speak for yourself,” he mutters but allows you to tug him on to the wagon. He places his hand on your thigh automatically and does his best to look unamused but flinches when the whole thing surges forward and into the dark rows of apple trees. “I can't believe I'm doing this.”

Neither of you handle it well, truth be told. There are only a few other people on the bales in the wagon bed and you and Steve for sure scream the loudest. Your friends catch on to your presence quickly and clearly make it worse for you both, jumping out of the trees and reaching as if you pull you both to the ground. But it's fun. It's fun in the way most things that give you an adrenaline rush are — you scream and laugh in the same breath, pressing closer and closer to Steve until you're practically in his lap as the wagon rounds the final corner.

That's when you feel him hard through his pants.

“Really?” you ask. “Keep your hands to yourself, Harrington.” He scowls and tightens his grip on your hips so you don't fall when the wagon jostles side to side.

“I can't help it, honey.” You wriggle a little more and his fingertips press harder into your skin. “Stay still.”

You do not stay still. It's just too much fun to mess with him like this — something you do often in your new house. Teasing him from room to room and reveling in the thrill that he wants you. Steve always wants you.

The feeling is mutual.

When the ride finally ends you mean to tell Steve that Eddie and Robin are going to meet you so you can all hang out, but you don't get the chance. Your feet barely touch the ground after stepping off the wagon when he grabs your hand and drags you through the crowds.

“Steve,” you say incredulously. “Steve, what are you doing?” You try to keep up with his long strides so he'll hear you.

He doesn't stop until you slip around the apple bobbing and against the wall of the farm store. He crowds you against the wall, suddenly in your space, face close enough that you can count his eyelashes. His pupils are blown and his cheeks are even more flushed than they were on the hay ride.

“If you think I'm going to stand around about to cream my pants, you're insane.”

You swallow and feel his words between your legs. “Oh,” you breathe. “Okay.”

He tugs on your hand again and you're off, snaking behind the store and further into the grounds. It only takes a few more moments before you realize that he's leading you to his old loft. You laugh into the night air and Steve looks back with a boyish grin, the intensity of his gaze somewhat faded back into the comfort and ease of your relationship.

Though he doesn't live here anymore you know that Hopper hasn't gotten around to renting it out yet and Steve still has a key. “Don't trip,” he teases as he tugs you up the spiral stairs. He takes a few seconds to dig out his keys and get the right one in the lock. You want to touch him so badly you entertain jumping him on the landing but he gets the door open quickly and you stumble inside.

“Thank Christ that worked,” he mutters. The loft is empty of the things that make it Steve but the furniture is still there, including a made bed, which feels like a miracle.

“I'd fuck you in the barn,” you say. Steve wiggles his eyebrows and once again crowds you back against the door.

“Oh, yeah?” he mutters. He shoves a thigh between yours and gently tugs your head to the side so he can trail his lips up your neck. You feel his cock, somehow harder than before, and wiggle for friction. “You still know how to surprise me, bee girl.”

“Steve,” you gasp. “Don't tease.” He could quip about your actions on the hay ride, could drag it out and make you a whimpering mess here against the door by barely touching you, but he doesn't. Steve always wants you just as bad as you want him. He presses his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, cradling the back of your head as he presses you into the door.

It is not lost on you, even through your lustful haze, that this time last year you were doing the same thing. A night that changed everything, that almost broke everything had it not worked out in the end. It makes you more desperate, makes you slide your hands under his shirt to feel his skin, makes you grind harder on his thigh and swallow his moans. You almost gave this up. You almost ruined it.

Steve licks into your mouth and your tongues meet, desperate and messy and then he palms your breast, thumb swiping at your nipple and you keen.

“Bed,” you manage to say. “Bed, Steve.”

He sucks a spot on your neck for a moment more before releasing you. His hair is a mess, lips spit-slick and swollen and the way he looks at you makes your knees weak. “Come on,” he says softly. He sheds his costume as he goes, jacket and shirt and sunglasses tossed on the floor. You follow his example as he closes the curtains and shucks off his jeans.

“Are these sheets clean?” you ask, tossing your bra aside. Steve looks his fill and you let him.

“Hope so.” His eyes meet yours and for a second you're sure he's remembering last year, too. How tender it was, how he fucked you sweet and slow, how you left him.

Things get a little desperate after that.

You shed the remainder of your clothes and he sits against the headboard. You admire him like that, cock hard and already leaking, chest rising and falling as he pants though you've barely done more than kiss. You can feel how wet you are, feel the tightness in your belly just by looking at him.

“Baby,” he groans. “C'mere, please.” You crawl up the bed to him and straddle his thigh. He presses his fingers into your skin, eyes wide as you start to grind on him. You move your hips back and forth until you find a rhythm that catches your clit in a way that makes you gasp.

“Oh, god,” Steve moans. “Look at you, huh? Getting my thigh all messy, fuck.” You lean forward so he can press his face to your chest and tongue at your nipples.

Steve keeps up his filthy babble. “Barely touched you and you're so wet,” he says. “Feels good? Getting all worked up?” He pants your name over and over. “Look so pretty like this, baby, riding my thigh.”

“Wanna ride you,” you manage to say. He bounces his leg a bit and you whine. You reach down and fist his cock clumsily.

Instead of replying Steve shifts you over and lines himself up with your entrance. “You gonna be okay?” Your eyes lock. He means with the stretch, with the position. With fucking him bare. You and Steve have been doing that for a while now and you know he loves it, how he can feel every inch of you and fill you up without worry. You like it, too.

“Steve.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. You sink down on him and both grown in unison. The stretch comes without any pain, feels like you and Steve were made for each other, as it always does. “Holy shit,” he says, panting into your neck. “Never gonna get over this. How tight you are, how you have a perfect cunt—”

You cut him off by starting to move, a slow circle of your hips that has him choking on his words, his babble dissolving into your name and nothing else. You can feel his mushroom tip brushing the spot inside you that will have this over all too quickly, the vein along the underside of his cock that drags as you start to lift your hips. Steve does his best to help, hands firm on your thighs and meeting your movements with little thrusts of his own as he trails his lips along your chest, your clavicle, your neck.

“So beautiful,” he mutters. “So fucking good, you feel so fucking good —”

The hook in your belly pulls tighter and tighter but it's not where you need it to be. Your thighs are burning and you feel hot all over and you can hear how wet you are, hear the smack of your skin as you ride him. But it's not enough.

“I need — Steve —”

You reach down to give your clit some attention but Steve beats you to it, thumb roughly circling as you both start to move more frantically.

“I'm close,” he hisses. “I'm close, where do you want —”

“Inside,” you gasp. “Inside, please, Steve —”

He makes a noise that has your orgasm teetering on the edge, punched out and desperate. “Fuck, baby,” he says. You cling to him desperately as he shifts you, changes the position so you're on your back, legs around his hips. He fucks you hard, skin smacking, the filthy sound of your slick drowned out only be Steve's litany of your name as the hook pulls tighter and tighter.

“Let me fill you up,” he says. “Look so pretty with me dripping out of you, making a mess —”

You careen over the edge, fisting the sheets with one hand and dragging your nails down Steve's back with the other. Your eyes shut as you writhe, the waves of your climax rolling over you. You spasm around him, clenching over and over and his hips stutter and you feel him come inside you, the hot warmth coating your walls.

Your breath comes back to you as Steve flops down, still inside you, weight heavy on top of your spent body in the way he knows you like. His hand lazily trails up and down your side.

“Fuck,” he says. You laugh. The post-sex sensations set in, the gentle throb of your cunt where he's still inside you, the wetness of your inner thighs and the soreness of your muscles.

He shifts and you feel how full you are. “Made a mess,” you mutter. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“You made a mess,” he counters. “I mean, the thigh stuff?”

“Steve!” You feel shy all of a sudden.

“It was hot.” He squeezes your hip. “Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?”

He pulls out of you and the soreness stings for just a second. You feel him dripping out of you and feel hot all over again. Steve gets off the bed and heads for the bathroom. You watch him walk there, his cock shiny with you as it softens, the muscles of his legs and his back on display in the dim loft. The scars from various farming chores that you've traced hundreds of times, the skin you know every inch of. You love him. He's yours.

Steve returns from the bathroom and you try not to be self conscious about how you sit exposed on the bed. He's carrying a damp cloth.

“Spread 'em,” he says when he reaches the edge of the bed.

“Sexy,” you say, but do as he says. He snorts but gently cleans you, running the cloth along the insides of your thighs and your tender center. It's impossible not to feel a rush of affection for him as he does, this intimate act that is somewhere between sexual and not. You watch him and feel unbelievably precious in his care. He catches your eye and sees the softness, pressing his lips to your naval, your knee, but saying nothing. Sometimes you just don't need words.

“Let me pee,” you tell him when he finishes. When you return he's sprawled on the bed, boxers on. You pull on your t-shirt and nothing else and crawl up next to him, settling into his side. He drags his fingers along your back. You put your palm over his chest to feel his heartbeat.

“Better Halloween than last year,” he says lightly. The memory of that night isn't as heavy in your post-sex bliss, though it's still around. You've talked about it many times since then and it's in the past but being here reminds you a bit of the fear you felt, the frightening weight of the love you have for Steve. How it shifted your entire world.

Though you know Steve isn't serious, you sit up a little to look him in the eyes.

“I'm never leaving you,” you tell him. He looks a little surprised but recovers quickly, reaching up to cup your face and pull you down.

“I know,” he says. He kisses you gently, reverently.

“I love you,” you say against his lips. He laughs.

“I know that, too,” he says. “I love you back, bee girl.”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #no good at waiting #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n

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