#//Not that he'd immediately set to thinking that in the actual moment

[evilminji]

You think the Zone has its version of Comic Con?

Like? Think about it. You have literally all of time to work on it, your Magnum Opus, your life's work. That DREAM comic. All the supplies you could ever wish for. Endless paper. Endless ink. You can practice and practice for CENTURIES until it's JUST right.

Wouldn't you want to share it?

There are definitely Ghosts who have Obsessions that make them collect.

And two people meeting would lead to a group. Lead to a bigger group. Lead to a large group. A gathering. A crowd even. Eventually you need a Lair to meet IN. It becomes An Event.

People hear about it.

Want to bring other art mediums. Food stalls. Report on it. It grows. Shoot offs start happening. Niche meet ups.

But like?

Unlike comic con? It's all FREE. Sure, you might have fork over the ecto to make your copy. And yeah, weaker ghosts can only do that so many times. Will have to prioritize. But? They can come back after leaving for a nap. Ask a buddy to come with. There ARE work arounds.

Just? Imagine the unbelievable HIPE? Danny would feel? But be unable to TELL anyone about? Zone Con happens several times a year! Cause so many people wanna come. The Zone being infinite, after all.

Problem 1? They're using THEIR standard of a "year". Which is actual 5 earth years. So it's only happens every year and a half for him. And Problem 2? He can't even TALK about how excited he is about Z Con with anyone (outside his friends and family) because they haven't heard of it and might Ask Questions.

It's ALSO held in a part of the Zone that's like? Three days of flying away from the portal. And no amount of begging is gonna get any of his loved ones to camp in the Speeder for around six-ish days just to go to a Con.

So you can imagine his DELIGHT. His utter JOY and *Target Spotted* "!!!" Noise, when? In the crowd? He spots A HUMAN! Hi fellow human!!! Omg, wanna be Con Besties? *doesn't even wait for an answer*

So now? This sad, blonde, deeply lost and kinda alarmed, trench coat dude? Is Danny's new Z Con Going Bestie! You got a map yet, bestie? No? That's cool, he has one. By the way, he has human food in the Speeder if you nee-

YES!

Cause, see, here's the THING. John? Lost to the Realms Infinte. Or Infinte Realms. Translation was iffy... and on fire... like the rest of the building. It was him or the kids those psychos had kidnapped, for what fucked "ritual" the voices in their heads, that THEY thought were demons but frankly he's pretty sure was just feedback from-

Look, doesn't matter, he had to choose. He always knew someday he'd have too. That even twisting Luck and talking fast wouldn't quite be enough. And he had to decide, in that moment, which outcome mattered more to him. They get out safe, or he does.

Wasn't much of a question, was it?

So, there he is. Staring down oblivion and all those debts unpaid. 'Bout to see who's gonna come for him this time, and take what left of wretched soul. When? He bleeds on the FUCKIN two-bit crap circle they squiggled in God only knows what. Remembers that "oh YEAH, set dressings!" Sometimes when you focus too hard on insuring a Good Outcome?

You weird weird as shit byproducts happening on the side to balance it all out.

Or BAD ones.

He wakes up someone fucking green and crowded. For the life of him can't tell you which one it is. And THAT was of course, bout two days ago.

Biggest and most immediate problem? He... does NOT recognize what flavor of magical fuckery this is. Doesn't seem Fae. And doesn't smell like Hell. There are... there are honest to God BOOTH BABES hanging around. Hunks too. The view is LOVELY.

And nerdy.

Very, very nerdy.

But he isn't THAT out of touch. So he should recognize SOMETHING. Or at least the languages. But nope! It's like aliens and magic had a nerd baby and dipped it in GREEN. And the worst thing? Is there is food everywhere, but it all glows and John's not stupid enough to eat it.

Then? Sweet merciful fuck. Salvation! Some teeny bopper Barely No Longer Teen fresh faced INFANT of a Hero kid. With a SHIP. Who has FOOD and a clear idea of where they are. Hello~ John's new BEST FRIEND. Yes. Absolutely. Con Buddies, whatever.

Just feed me, kid.

Only? Once he inhales like 5 "Fenton rations"? He only gets half way through introducing himself before getting interrupted. Kid hears "magic" and "occult Detective" and just? Goes "oh! So you wanna check out the magic Ally with me? Sam wanted me to pick up some witchy stuff!"

..............how magic?

(In Which? Constantine becomes Danny's interdimensional Con buddy)

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe

[sunderwight]

Shang Qinghua strikes me as the type who would only pursue a particular cultivation skill if it had some utility to making his everyday life easier or some specific task more doable, not even register that he'd achieved anything impressive with his cultivation in the process, and then carry on firm in the belief that this is a normal skill that every other cultivator has probably already acquired. Because if it's useful, why wouldn't they?

Like he thinks cultivation is cool and all, but (as can be evidenced by some of his writing choices) he's not really interested in it for its own sake. So everything he chooses to pursue has a reason. Usually that reason is "letting him be done with this tedious task so that he can possibly scrape together some free time, or at least more time to do other tasks."

This is why, despite sword arts being very cool and dashing and all, Shang Qinghua doesn't really bother learning a lot of swordsmanship or fighting skills. There are pretty few situations where wielding a sword is useful, most of those situations are ones which Shang Qinghua doesn't want to be involved in, and nearly all of his martial siblings are better at and more interested in fighting anyway.

He knows that martial prowess is popular and attractive, but it's boring. Sword drills? Dull as hell. There's a reason he came up with a super cursed sword that let his protagonist immediately win almost any fight, with consequences that just led to more interesting drama or conflicts to write about. His fight scenes were at least as boring and repetitive as his sex scenes, let's be real.

The end result is that Shang Qinghua's cultivation is probably deeply weird.

Like he's done muscle-reinforcement but not for combat, it's so that if he needs to he can literally pick up a recalcitrant ox and move it. He mastered inedia because remembering to eat and finding a moment to do it during An Ding's inventory week was harder. He introduced flying carpets to the setting after he transmigrated because figuring out how to transport items on some compatible spiritual device that was bigger than a sword blade, and could thus hold like a chest of goods or baskets of supplies, was way too convenient to pass up. He has selective knowledge of various skills, like alchemy, medicine, smithing, etc, things that are usually only brought up at the master level (thanks to his author knowledge cheat) but he doesn't know most of the basics of those skills, and he only deploys his knowledge for like, hyper specific tasks largely unrelated to the field.

He probably drives Mu Qingfang and Wei Qingwei crazy because he'll drop expert niche knowledge that they know is expert niche knowledge into a random discussion out of the blue, but then can't actually sustain a conversation about it because he doesn't know all the usual accompanying information. Mu Qingfang counting slowly backwards from ten because somehow Shang Qinghua knows that a super rare tonic made from a believed-to-be-extinct plant can bestow temporarily telekinesis to those who imbibe it, but doesn't know anything else about the medicinal uses of the plant, the history of the tonic, or other tonics that can achieve similar results with varying side-effects. But he knows what this one hyper-specific thing will do and he knows, very very vaguely, how to make it. Somehow.

Which would be less weird if it was just one thing, because people do pick up odd bits of knowledge or skills from unexpected places now and again. But it happens all the time. Seemingly at complete random! He also, as said, doesn't just do it with knowledge but with skills. No idea of basic leveling up, Shang Qinghua singles out what he wants from a process and then just does enough to get it and skips everything else that usually goes with it.

I bet he's like thirty before it comes to light that he has no idea how to actually do basic meditation, or something, and Yue Qingyuan does that thing where he smiles placidly while dying inside because how? Shang-shidi is a peak lord! How does a peak lord not know how to meditate properly?!

(In Shang Qinghua's defense, meditating involves spending a lot of time just focusing on one's self and not doing anything else, and he is a busy man! And he actually has mastered a form of meditation, but it's a kind Cang Qiong doesn't usually teach and that you do while also performing repetitive tasks. Usually those repetitive tasks are things like "repeatedly punching the exact same spot on a tree until the tree topples" but Shang Qinghua's are more like "reviewing a thousand nearly identical requisition forms and eating melon seeds at a steady rate" type stuff. When other people expect him to meditate he just sits quietly for a minute until they leave.)

[luveline]

that spencer x bombshell one you just posted has me giggling and kicking my feet I think I’m in love with YOU 🫵

Now I’m thinking of spencer x bombshell where the team starts to not view reid as unwillingly tortured by her flirting. Like maybe Morgan makes a comment to reid about something he does and is like “don’t torture the poor girl” and he’s like oh shit I’M the one torturing too now?

im in love with YOU !! for you, ty for requesting ♡ fem

“Difficult,” you say, resting your head on the table. 

“I know.” Spencer wiggles his pen back and forth between two fingers, thinking hard. This case is proving to be indecipherable. None of the details want to add up, and no clear profile geographical or otherwise appears. 

“Useless.” 

“Who, me or you?” 

“Us.” You sigh morosely. “Mostly me.” 

You're not being serious. Spencer huffs a soft laugh and continues to turn the details over in his head. You open your notebook and scratch down a couple of sentences with a pen, a visual thinker. Your mind map turns to a second iteration and then a third. You can't connect the dots because they're too far apart from each other; Spencer can't do it either. Not alone. 

He scoots his chair as close to yours as possible, your knees touching, his elbow in your side. “Can I look?” he asks. 

“Of course you can. Sorry about my handwriting.” 

He shakes his head. Your handwriting is perhaps the only thing about you he wouldn't say was one hundred percent perfect. You can't control it like other things. It is perfect, in a way, because it's yours, but you've been writing quickly and he struggles to make out the occasional letter. 

He leans in toward the page. “What's this word?” he asks. 

You lean in to see it. “Coruscated.” 

“The swimming pool?” he asks, lifting his face to yours. You're closer now, and beautiful like this. He can see the powder under your eyes, the lines in your irises, the slight fading of your lipstick at the corners of your mouth. There's an eyelash on your cheek. He lifts a hand to wipe it away. “What's so important about that?” 

“It reminded me of something…” You pause as he touches your face. “Something…” Your voice lilts up in question, half-shudder. 

“Eyelash,” he explains, blowing it off of his finger. 

“Right,” you say, eyes oddly wide and soft at once, your eyebrows lifted at the starts. 

“You okay?” 

“Is she okay? Reid, you're torturing the poor girl. Give her some air,” Morgan says with a chuckle. 

Spencer leans backwards in surprise, no idea what Morgan could possibly mean. Your eyes relax as you regain some personal space, your hands coming together loosely in your lap. You laugh weakly. 

Spencer looks you up and down. He's torturing you? That doesn't make sense. For as long as you've known one another, the team has joked that your flirty ways and feminine wiles are too much for Spencer to handle. You once gave him an apology he didn't want, worried you actually were hurting him by being your playful self, and he'd set that straight immediately. You don't torture him. It's a lot of feelings to be doted on so much by you, and painful isn't one of them. Overwhelming, sometimes, and exciting, sure. 

He never realised he had the power to overwhelm you. Not until that moment. You offer a funny smile far from your usual smirk and try to steamroll Morgan's claim. “Guess I should've made a wish.” 

“What would you wish for?” Spencer asks quietly. 

You still. Morgan shakes his head in disapproval, but he laughs again and stands up. “I think they'd call that a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart,” he says to you. 

You meet Spencer's eye. “I think they would,” you say bashfully. 

For three blissful seconds, Spencer enjoys the reality of having made you flustered. You, gorgeous, confident you, left flushed and a little daunted by his casual actions and simple (maybe slightly flirtatious) questioning. But then he remembers how much he likes you and pushes it away. 

“Sorry,” he says, plastering a smile over uncertain lips, “I didn't mean to do that.” 

“No, it's okay.” 

He turns to your notes, but gives you a look from the side. “I hope you wished for someone to solve the case. We're never getting anywhere like this.” 

“Are you saying you can't?” You rest your chin in your hand. “And here I thought you were more than a pretty face.” 

You have a quick recovery rate, evidently. 

[alchemistc]

"When was it for you?" Buck asks, chin tucked over the nice rounded edge of Tommy's left pec, turning his eyes up through his lashes because every time he does that Tommy's eyes do something soft and sweet that Bucks still a little obsessed with. Tommy's fingers continue twisting into his curls, but he raises the 'need more context' brow. Buck obliges. "The - the spark. Like - I mean you had to kiss me for me to get what was going on but uh - I mean subconsciously I was in it to win it from like, the moment I saw how smiley you got seeing Cap and Athena reuniting. So. I'm wondering. What was it for you?"

There's still times when Buck feels like he's going too fast, too hard, pressing and pushing and reverting back to the neediness of yesteryear, but Tommy does this thing - this insane thing that shouldn't comfort Buck at all but somehow manages to both bring him back down to earth and make him feel like he's not alone in this: he takes his time. A measured breath, a quiet look, pressure on his scalp as Tommy thinks the question through without looking like he's being rushed at all. Measured. Processing both the new information he's been given, the little snapshot into what had first drawn Buck in, and the question he's been asked. If Buck had realized thoughtfulness meant so fucking much to him he'd have learned some patience years ago.

Tommy tips his chin, scratches at his cheekbone, stares at Buck like he's measuring out each word in his sentence recipe and setting up the ingredients of his response before he starts mixing.

"The handshake," he says, with a bashful little purse of his lips, like he hadn't expected he'd ever have to admit to it but he doesn't want to lie. "Just couldn't get a read on you for a while after."

Buck sort of wants to hide his face in Tommy's chest in response to the feelings that bubble up in his chest - the right-awayness of it, an immediate connection Tommy had felt even before he did, it feels like there are a thousand little pipe bombs bursting in his chest. No one's ever given him butterflies quite like Tommy Kinard.

"So it was like a physical thing for you," Buck says, fully fishing because Tommy has dated actual models and no matter how many minutes he spends each time they're naked together admiring the belly Buck's unwilling to dehydrate himself to get rid of, he likes hearing that his boyfriend thinks he's hot.

Tommy surprises him, though. "No, actually. You could barely get your name out but you wouldn't let go of my hand while you gave me five facts about helicopters you'd clearly googled on the ride over. Sorta made me want to stick you in my pocket and keep you there so you could provide me a fact-of-the-hour for the rest of my life."

Buck can feel his face going red. It's a mortifying observation, but it feels a lot like all the affectionate teasing he gets on the daily from Hen and Chim. Feels like Tommy knows him well enough by now to know he likes being read for filth when it means he's being paid attention to.

"You want weird facts, I'll give you weird facts."

Tommy chuckles. The hand in his hair tugs, just a bit, like Tommy wants Buck's face closer to his face but doesn't feel like asking. Buck shifts his weight up into an elbow to oblige, gets a thumb sliding along his cheekbone for his efforts and a primetime view of Tommy's serious face as his eyes flit across Buck's. "I didn't expect you," he says, in the serious voice, the teasing edge falling away. "I didn't expect butterflies and second chances and -." He cuts himself off, thumb slipping towards the curve of Buck's nose. "I didn't expect any of it."

Which is a bit of a revelation, if Buck's being completely honest. Tommy'd taken his hand and smiled while Buck did his level best to break the sound barrier with the pace he set at the beginning of all of this. "You thought I'd be an easy lay?" he teases, and Tommy wrinkles his nose.

"Thought you'd be bored with me before I paid the check if I ever managed to get you on a date with me."

It's actually laughable, with the benefit of hindsight, how terribly wrong that assumption had been. Laughable that Tommy thinks he could ever be boring. Buck could spend hours just staring at the subtle changes in his expression in complete silence and still not be bored with Tommy.

"That's stupid," he tells him, and Tommy thumbs at his bottom lip.

"Well I know that now. You're easily entertained. I've told you the Yellowstone flyover story six times and you still laugh at the punchline every time like it's the first time you've ever heard it."

"Moon moon," Buck repeats solemnly, and has to bite his lip not to laugh about it again.

"I like you a lot," Tommy says, and - they've exchanged I love yous, but there's something about this particular phrase - like Tommy's dug into the very heart of all of Buck's insecurities and learned the exact phrase to burn all those question marks to the ground.

"Ditto," Buck says, because Tommy had been insistent on trying to find a romcom that Buck didn't fall asleep to and Ghost had actually kept his attention decently well. Or. You know. Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore had.

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Howie keeps giving me shit for all new movie quotes you keep bringing out at inappropriate times."

"Quoting Clerks at Captain Fuckstache is always appropriate."

"We'll watch Dogma next. See if you can find any gems in that one that'll drive that asshole into an early grave."

"Are there dogs in it?"

"Are there -." Tommy's expression is so offended Buck thinks his eyes might explode. "Evan, even if you don't know the movie I know dogma is one of those SAT words you've found yourself on a Wikipedia black hole about."

Damn. And Buck had been hoping he'd get worked up enough to rant about Buck's serious gaps in knowledge in regards to pop culture. He hams it up a bit anyway. "It's when all the dogs are trying to get into heaven."

Tommy digs three fingers into Bucks side, and if they dissolve into a tickle fight five seconds later, Tommy has no one but himself to blame for the elbow to the face that nearly breaks his nose.

[eaterofman]

Yandere Coworker Harem x New Hire Reader: A Meeting with the CEO

Follow up to this post

Finally fed up with it all, you decide to leave... but you learn it may not be that easy.

Content Warnings: General creepiness, yanderes, financial manipulation, manipulation, power difference, gaslighting

AN: Holy shit the first part blew up, more so than any post I've ever made on tumblr... ever. Thank y'all, and I hope this lives up to everyone's expectations? Had to ignore a few asks since they were essentially the plot to this part, haha.

As nice as Jake is... it starts to wear on you. The seclusion from your other coworkers, Warren and Jax's constant attention, it all becomes too much. This was the easiest money you've ever made, but it almost felt... condescending in a way. Seriously, you feel like you haven't actually worked in months, just given simple tasks to complete so that Jax could praise you. Otherwise, you felt like you were just eye candy set in a pretty office. No more, you figure. You make up your mind to go back to HR, it's been a long time coming. They either fix it, or you're gone.

With your mind made up, you return to Leon. He'd been so kind before, surely he'd help, right? As you explain your problems to him, he nods and gently smiles. In your distress, you don't notice his hand moving to cover yours, massaging yours comfortingly. You welcome the comforting sensation, overwhelmed to the point of not really considering the implications. You look into his dark eyes as you finish, silently pleading with him for help.

"That really is something. I'm sorry to hear your experience with the company has been so distressing. Tell me, do you have any proof?"

His demeanor seems to shift instantly back to the colder man you remember from your first sight of him. His fingers rubbing gentle circles into your palm shift into a harsher grip.

"Proof? I-I mean, the cameras have probably caught something?"

You'd say there were eyewitnesses, but all of your other coworkers had been avoiding you. You barely even knew their names...

"Unfortunately, our cameras have been malfunctioning lately, I doubt they'd catch anything. Without any actual witnesses, I'm afraid I can't do anything for you."

"How can you say that without even looking? This place is insane- you know what? I'm just quitting. I can't take this anymore."

You try to remove your hand but he keeps it there. His gaze is suddenly ice cold. He lets your hand go after a few moments of tension, fingers lingering before you yank your hand to your chest.

"Ah, you could quit... but I'd really recommend against it. You'd of course have to pay the dues you signed in your contract, as well as any additional fees. I'm not in charge of finances, but my estimate would be somewhere around... 200 thousand or so?"

You gasp, blood running cold. 200 thousand?! You don't remember signing that, but you also don't recall really reading over the contract in your excitement. You try to think of a way out, surely there had to be some sort of loophole-

"Of course, there's always the option of asking the CEO to change your contract, but..."

You'd tuned anything after that out, insisting to meet with the CEO as soon as possible. Which, to your surprise, was almost immediately. Almost like he'd been... waiting for you? Leon himself lead you to the CEO's room, at the very top of the skyscraper your office resided in. As you're let in, you're met with the biggest office you'd ever seen. It composed of the entire top floor of the skyscraper, massive windows encircling the entire ornate office.

You really try to ignore the feeling that you're walking into a trap.

The CEO was patiently waiting for you. Like a king on a throne, he sat in the middle of the room in front of a surprisingly simple desk. You'd heard of the CEO, Kennedy Grey, but you'd never met him in person before. He had an air of sophistication around him, an older gentlemen with salt and pepper hair and a well trimmed beard. His suit was pristine and looked expensive, probably costing more than your entire yearly salary. He smiled, urging the two of you to sit. His eyes glanced over to Leon's, a slight smirk on his face as if the two were in on a joke you weren't.

"So, what brings you two here? I've heard very good things about you from Jax. Things are going well, I presume?"

You fidget, despite his welcoming tone, he felt oddly... menacing. Like you weren't supposed to disagree with him, even if he asked you a question. You begin to explain your issues, but are quickly stopped with a firm look of disapproval when you bring up the idea of leaving the company.

"Now now, we can't have that, can we? With your contract, that wouldn't be a very smart idea, would it?"

Before you can even respond, he simply continues to talk over you.

"No, no it wouldn't. And you've just been such a good worker, we'd just hate to lose you."

"Well, I was actually hoping we could talk about the contract, I just don't think it's fair-" you can barely get your thoughts out as he cuts you off again.

"Unfair? But my dear, you signed it. I'd just hate to get my lawyers involved... they're top of the line, y'know? Besides, you don't actually want to leave, you're just... stressed. What do you need, a paid week off? A bonus for your hard work?"

"No-"

"Well, now that that's done, let's get back to work, shall we? You'll have a bonus on your next pay-"

You've had enough of his condescension and interruptions, it's time for you to interrupt him.

"You know what, I'll take the lawsuit. You people are insane. You can have the money if you want, but I'm out of here."

As you get up, you find you can't. Leon has moved behind you, surprisingly strong arms holding your chair in, preventing you from moving. You look up at him in angered confusion, but he's sharing a look with Kennedy. You once again feel like you're missing an important part of an inside joke again. You try to struggle, but you're stopped as Kennedy interrupts.

"Apartment 101, Evergreen Apartments, right?"

"W-wha-"

"You know, I've been venturing into the rental market recently. Very profitable at the moment. I actually just bought a few buildings in your area, including your little apartment. Such a shame, you know you could do better, right? All you have to do is ask..."

He smiles at you as if this was a normal conversation to him, like he was doing you a favor.

"I guess that makes me your landlord now, if you think about it!" his smile turns colder, eyes crinkling like he's laughing at you, "That being said, I just don't see how you're going to pay for the rent increase without this job. I hate to do it, but it's a necessity, y'know? Cost of living and such."

He waves his hand like it's no big deal, like he isn't playing with your livelihood and threatening you.

"You could move out, of course, but well, word gets around, and I just don't know how the other investors in the area would react to your... history."

You feel dread well up in the pit of your stomach and tears in your eyes. He... has you. What could you even do? Moving out of the city would mean starting over, and that's if you could even find a place and a job to pay for said place, and paying for the lawsuit-

In your panic, you can only whimper, "I just... why? Why me? i don't understand-"

"That's the beauty of it all, you don't have to. All you have to worry about is coming in and doing your job. We'll handle all the rest."

You jump, having almost forgotten Leon was behind you in your panic. You go to open your mouth-

"Wonderful insight, Leon. Now that we're all on the same foot, let's get back to work, shall we?"

You can only numbly nod your head, too overwhelmed to continue fighting.

You're finally allowed to sit up and begin walking towards the door, trying to speed walk out of the huge room that somehow managed to feel claustrophobic. You just wanted out at this point, you needed somewhere to think.

As you step into the elevator, Leon staying behind in the office-thank god-you're interrupted one final time.

"Oh, and I meant what I said. If you ever need any assistance, anything at all, just come to me. All you have to do is ask."

[buckgasms]

Hide & Seek 🤫

Urgh just let me have him please? I'd be such a good bunny 🐰

Smut as always 😉 enjoy

Bucky scrolled through his phone for a little while, checking the clock every so often. A few more minutes, he thought to himself as he smiled.

He had sent you off to hide about five minutes ago, giggling and excited as you ran off to play your game. Although Bucky was going to have his fun too. He growls at the ideas he has for when he finds you. He huffs thinking about how wet you probably already are at being his prey. That's enough, he decides, time to find you.

🤫

As he stalked through the corridors he found himself genuinely excited to find you. What he wasn't expecting was to find you almost immediately. He popped his head into the office and there you had hidden, behind the big curtain, but you hadn't hidden your feet, so your toes were wiggling as you stood behind it.

He had to bite his lip when he heard you giggle. You really were the sweetest if not a little naive.

He debated on whether or not to unveil you right then and there, but decided against it, to tease you a little more.

Luckily for him he had insisted you wear a little device to help him find you. He pulled out his phone as he stood by the door, trying his best to not let you catch him catching you.

A few moments of flicking through his phone and he finds the app connected to your little device. He knows he's done a good job when you moan and buckle behind the curtain.

He flicks the settings up and down peering from the door as he grins like a wolf. You are doing your best to be quiet, even telling yourself to shush but to no avail. He just knows exactly what button to press. Literally.

🤫

You are standing behind the curtain none the wiser. You press your bunny cuddly to your mouth in an attempt to be quiet but you can't help but moan as the toy hums harshly against your clit.

Why did you let daddy have that?

Suddenly you hear a creak and a sigh as he walks into the room. You grip your bunny tight as he comes closer, and sits in the chair only meters from you. The toy has mercifully stopped.

"Where could she be?"

You heard Bucky sigh and tut as he wondered out loud. You had to be strong if you were going to win. Winning meant you got to pick the movie tonight, and you'd get to tie daddy up and do what you wanted all night. He'd promised that you could, but you had to make sure he didn't find you. Only when Daddy gave up would you win.

But daddy never played fair.

Suddenly you heard his belt buckle clink, a sound that sent your heart racing. Then shuffling. Then a groan. And the unmistakable sound of daddy stroking his cock.

"Oh man...if only my princess was here to help me..." He groaned and sighed as you shuffled on your feet, desperate to join in, but really wanting to win this silly game.

He groaned again, fist pumping faster, and you actually pouted behind the curtain. You even stomped your foot. It's not fair that daddy gets to play and you don't.

Suddenly the curtain is pulled back from your face and a grinning daddy is standing there, his laugh erupting when he sees your face. "Found you Princess" he chuckles as you gasp and try to make your escape.

He grabs your arms and pulls you back into him as your squeal. "Daddddy it's not fair! You were playing without me!" You whine up at him, tugging at his shirt. He presses a kiss to your lips, but you won't be distracted.

"Was gonna tie you up and play" you said with a pout and he does seem to look a little sorry for you. He leans forward, hands squeezing at your ass as he presses more kisses to your cheeks.

"Tell you what... I'll give you a second chance. If you can get to our bedroom before I catch you, I'll let you be in charge tonight, how's that?"

Before he even finished you pelted for the door, giggling as you heard him shout out something. You squealed when he appeared out of the room and chased you down the corridor and you really felt like you were going to win this time.

But that's when the traitor in your underwear sprang back to life. It was so powerful and unexpected that you almost fell to the ground. You tried to run again but it was too good, too much and you stumbled as you reached the door but it was too late. You felt his arms wrap around you and lift you off the floor.

"Gotcha"

🤫

Once he had his hands on you, he wasn't going to let you go.

Before you even made it to the bed he had pulled your panties off and pressed your face into the floor, ass up in the air. "Fuck baby, you all wet for me" he crooned as his fingers delved into your heat. He landed a few slaps you your thighs and ass. "Tell me what you want princess..."

"Daddy please" you whine as you feel his fat cock teasing at your hole before sinking in, the tension of the last half hour melting away. His hand gripped the back of your neck as he fucked you and all you could do was let him claim you as his prize. It was such a heady mix of pleasure and humiliation that you just loved.

"Oh fuck princess, taking me so well. Gonna have such fun with you tonight angel" he growled as he rubbed your pussy, dragging your first orgasm out of you as he came all over your ass with a delicious growl.

You lay panting for a moment before feeling his arms wrap around you and carry you to the bed. You watch as he pulls his shirt off, spreading your legs wide as he moves nearer. You sit up and he brushes your hair out of your face, leaning down to kiss you as your hands drift over his broad, hairy chest.

"God I love you princess" he growls, letting his fingers drift over your skin, squeezing here and there, as your hands wrap around his neck. "Love you too Daddy" you whisper as he pushes you back to spread you out.

"Look at that, all for me" he whispers as he strokes his cock. A little whine leaves your lips and you spread yourself wider as he crawls over your body.

"Are you sure I didn't win Daddy" you pry as his hands manoeuvre your thighs, cock rubbing against your heat, making a mess of your both.

"No baby you didn't, not even close. But by the time I'm finished with ya, you won't even remember any of that ok?"

You started to argue but he thrust into you and you couldn't think of what to say anymore...

🤫

"Don't feel bad little princess" Bucky mutters hours later as he slides his cock into your messy, puffy heat. You whine at the sensitivity and the feeling of his cum being pushed out of you.

"You were made for this Babygirl, you're not supposed to be in charge..." He leans down at captures your lips in a kiss before leaning back up and pinching at your swollen nipples.

You can only whine as the sensations rip through your body. "I know princess, I know. Feels good huh? You look so pretty yknow?"

He fucks harder, making your eyes roll and your legs squeeze together. He just tuts and pushes your legs apart, rolling his hips to hit you deeper and longer.

"S'too much" you whine as your hands move to your raw heat. Leaning forward again he takes your face in his hand, meeting your eyes. "You want daddy to stop? You had enough Babygirl?"

You shake your head and he chuckles. "Well don't hide that pretty pussy from me then ok? I wanna see what a mess we've made together huh?" You moan as he pushes your thighs backwards and adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper and harder.

"Such a good girl" he grunts as your hands fall to the side and you let him take what he wants as you float into a state of bliss. "There you go, you floating baby?"

You let out a little whine, focused solely on his cock splitting you in half and his fingers locking into yours.

"Just one more princess, or maybe a couple more, just relax... Daddy's gotcha..."

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 6 | drunken confessions

tags: alcohol, drunk steve, sober eddie, post-canon, vague references to period-typical homophobia

By all calculations, Steve shouldn’t be this drunk.

Eddie knows Steve only had three beers – one during Corroded Coffin’s set, and he was halfway through a second when Eddie finally caught up with him after the show, and he started on his third while they were hanging out at the bar.

(Exactly why Eddie knows this is entirely irrelevant, and it has nothing to do with how he'd had one eye on Steve throughout the entire performance trying to gauge how much he might be into it. Definitely not).

Eddie had seen Steve “Keg King” Harrington in the flesh enough times to feel pretty confident that he holds his alcohol better than this but…fuck, if Steve isn’t absolutely sloshed, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed red, and he doesn't seem to have any idea how precariously he's swaying in his bar-stool.

It's fine. Steve's a pretty quiet drunk on the whole, and Eddie gets sorta wired after shows – extra adrenaline or something – so Steve is mostly just listening to him ramble about whatever happens to cross his brain, which isn't a bad way to spend an evening, all things considered.

Midway through an entirely one-sided debate over the merits of starting guitar lessons on electric versus acoustic, Steve reaches over and pushes a curl of hair falling into his eye-line off his forehead with just the tips of his fingers.

Eddie trails off, losing track of his sentence entirely as his eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s face and the hand still hovering by his forehead. He blinks a few times, his parted lips just as forgotten as the end of his sentence.

Eddie knows there’s a kind of question in his eyes when they finally hold firm on Steve’s.

Eventually, after a few beats of silence, Steve supplies, “I like your hair.”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie lifts his chin, still looking at Steve like he doesn’t know what to make of him.

“I like you,” Steve continues, and Eddie feels himself freeze for a moment, a nervous kind of shock running down his spine because, fuck, he's big enough to admit he's fantasized about hearing those words come out of Steve's mouth more than once (way more than once), but his voice was also abnormally loud, and while it’s definitely an interesting little tidbit on Steve’s part, he really doesn’t need the rest of the goddamn Hideout knowing it too. 

“I mean,” Steve continued, “Seriously, I’m, like, super into–”

“Alright,” Eddie cuts him off as he grabs the back of Steve’s jacket, yanking him off the stool and dragging him down the hall, past the bathrooms, and out the back door into the gloomy alleyway. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve!" Eddie exclaims once the door firmly closes behind them, "You can’t just – fuck, man, you’re gonna get us killed!”

“No,” Steve argues, and Eddie’s eyebrows fly up.

“Oh, okay, never mind I guess,” he shot back, “Sure, let’s go back in there, maybe make out on the bar for a while. What could possibly go wrong?”

"Okay," Steve replies simply, reaching forward to clumsily hook fingers around Eddie's belt loops, "You wanna?"

“Uh, no,” Eddie replied, and he regretted it immediately when he saw the look on Steve’s face. He shook his head, desperately trying to course-correct, “I dunno what kind of boys you’ve been kissing, but I certainly don’t take advantage of guys when they’re too drunk to remember anything the next morning.”

"Not kissing any other boys," Steve slurs, "Just waiting for you." He blinks at him for a moment, then says, "Do you...I sorta thought you might..."

Eddie swallowed nervously, because despite his earlier comment, he doesn't actually think Steve is so drunk that he won't remember any of this tomorrow, which means he's gonna remember this: "Yeah, I like you, Steve. Jesus Christ, I like you loads."

And Steve's mouth split into the biggest, dopiest grin Eddie's ever seen, and, fuck, yeah, he wants to kiss him. He really wants to kiss him.

"Tomorrow morning too?" Steve asks hopefully.

Eddie can't help a little laugh as he nods, "Definitely tomorrow morning too. Probably time to head out, though, for now."

"Okay," Steve nods, and so Eddie untangles Steve's hand from his belt loop, clasping it firmly in his own when he's done (because he can do that, he thinks). As they head for Eddie's van, Steve adds, "Y'know, I bet if you rolled all the windows down I'd sober up on the way back."

"Sure you will, sweetheart."

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Sano Shinichiro - "I Just Love Pathetic Guys"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

In which I've made an imagine about how pathetic Sano Shinichiro is and how I think pathetic guys are actually really freaking hot adorable. I just so happen to have a thing for losers and Shinichiro is probably the hottest loser in both the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime.

                                                                                                   

🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧

Imagine; he's talking to his friends about how he was yet again rejected for the nth the time now. You just so happen to be nearby and overhear his sad announcement; listening to his friends tease him about how he scares women away.

Imagine; you approach them after a few moments, when they've switched topics to something unrelated. You take his hand and write your number on it; only saying "call me sometime" as you wave goodbye and walk away. He'd be too stuck in the shock he felt to stop you and ask your name.

Imagine; you receive a call from an unknown number as soon as you step foot in your house. And when you pick up the phone you're met with his timid voice, asking if you're the person who gave him their number twenty minutes ago.

Imagine; instead of directly answering him, you somehow rope him into describing you and your first interaction. Hearing him trip over his words as he tries to keep his composure over the phone and seem proud an manly.

Imagine; you get him to practically beg you to allow him to take you on a date. You can't help but laugh how pathetic he is and you tell him so, but you 'agree' to go out with him anyway.

Imagine; he tales you out to eat and keeps reassuring you that he'll pay for everything but in the end, he doesn't have enough money, so you end up paying it in full instead. You can see how embarrassed he is and as bad as it makes you seem, damn do you relish in it.

Imagine; that during the rest of the date he somehow embarrasses himself in some way, shape or form. He can't even look you in the eye at this point and he walks at least two feet behind you, unwilling to try and lead you anymore lest he make even more of a fool out of himself.

Imagine; he drives you back to your place on his bike in silence, too scared to say anything just in case he has a slim chance of seeing you again. He stops in front of your place and you get off his bike, immediately turning to your front door. But, instead of going inside, you set the things he bought you down at your doorstep and walk back to him.

Imagine; that instead of letting him get the first word in, you tell him how much of a loser he is. You can see how deeply it affects him by how sad he looks, but you're not done talking.

Imagine; you take a fist full of his hair and yank him down for a kiss, smashing your lips together. You tell him how he's your exact type and how hot he was today. That he had better take you on another date or you'd kick his ass.

Imagine; you go into your home and you can still hear the hum of his bike's engine from outside. He's still sitting in fron of your house in complete shock. That is... until you hear a loud but muffled "Yes!" from outside.

Fuck. How can someone so pathetic be so damn hot at the same time? You couldn't wait until the second date.

🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧•♡•🔧

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[daistea]

(Def not King lurkin into your asks)

Saw that you take requests,,, 👀

What's your thoughts on a sexual relationship with Mithrun? I always get a little stumped with those requests, and you're just *chefs kiss* when it comes to your characterization of him

CRIES HELLO THANK U ILY

ummm tw: spoilers maybe? and nsfw

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Pre-Demon

Mithrun is a total slut, sorry.

That's not a bad thing, obviously, it's just what he is. I mean, he doesn't admit or acknowledge it. He has a very difficult time accepting his preferences. He's just a slut in denial.

That's all.

Pre-Ending, Post-Trauma

Mithrun hasn't had a real boner in forty years, sorry.

He has no interest in being intimate with anyone. He's really casual about the subject, though, because the Canaries--- sans Pattadol--- are pretty honest and open with each other. Shameless.

Fleki thinks he needs to get laid, but she doesn't care enough to push the subject.

Mithrun isn't emotionless, though. He's just preoccupied. His sex drive is extremely low at this point. However, he's observant enough about others to notice how you feel.

He'll have sex just for the sake of having it. He's kinda forgotten how it feels. And he still has pleasure receptors and nerves and all that nonsense. He can still physically react. You just have to do some work. He's not going to be super enthusiastic, but still consenting ofc

Mithrun is a total pillow princess at this point.

It's a bit calming, actually. Kind of therapeutic.

He's relatively quiet, but sometimes he can't help but exhale shakily, or groan. His touches are light. He's not very passionate. But sometimes he looks at you with these slightly dark expressions, as if he's considering something more. Something you don't quite understand.

Post-Canon

It starts out slowly. Mithrun doesn't immediately regain a sex drive. It needs cultivating.

The first time is really important. Depending on who you are and what you're like, it could range from soft and explorative, to rough and frantic.

Mithrun is a switch. I see a lot of depictions of him as a bottom, and I see that point of view, I really do. But I genuinely believe he'd work both roles. He would like to be dominant sometimes. Other times, he just wants to sit back and let the new feelings take over.

He likes being called a good boy.

He doesn't really enjoy the fact that he likes being called that. It's demeaning and it kind of makes him a little irritated, but holy crap does it set him on fire. 'Good boy' should only be invoked in the most passionate or rough of moments.

Mithrun can be rough when he feels like it. He can push you against a wall with the intent to make you forget your own name. He can leave bruises with how tightly he digs his fingers in. He bites, as always, but harder.

Speaking of biting, he'll usually bite your shoulder to keep himself from making much noise.

Mithrun wants to consume you entirely. He wants every inch of you. Your focus should be on him and him only. He likes hearing his name from your lips. Over and over. And he will often ask you who you belong to. He sounds calm in those moments, though, level-headed and scratchy as always, but there's a hint of expectance between his words.

He'll say it back, too, but in a very casual way, as if he doesn't quite understand why you want him to say that. Of course he's yours. Does it need to be acknowledged?

He has no shame, either. Anywhere, any time, if he wants it then he'll initiate it. He only pulls you into private alleys or closets because he knows that's what you prefer.

When you take charge, he enjoys that too. He likes looking up at you, taking in the view, letting his hands wander.

Whether he's top or bottom really depends on his mood.

If he's feeling especially jealous or possessive, he leaves a lot of marks.

He likes praise. He doesn't really give it back, though.

He's not very talkative during the deed, but if you talk often he'll just end up clamping a hand over your mouth.

He enjoys wrapping his fingers around your neck. He doesn't really like that in return, though.

No mirror sex.

He really likes oral. He can be a little selfish with it, actually.

Mithrun isn't a sadist LOL but he does like to tie you up sometimes and leave you hanging. It also depends on how you are as a person and what your dynamic is like.

If he's not in a dominant mood, he's a pillow princess again. Those are the days when he's not feeling as much, when he's not as locked in to his desires. Or, when he's just mentally or physically tired.

No matter what mood, he still needs a lot of care and affection. He needs every ounce of your focus.

He doesn't provide much aftercare. You're the one doing that, no matter who topped. But he eventually learns a bit and starts kinda reciprocating out of sheer habit, because he knows it would make you happy.

As I always say, Mithrun stares a lot. His gaze follows you everywhere, and he'll never get tired of the sight of your body.

He sorta passes out afterwards. It's one of the rare times when he doesn't need a sleep spell. He often will just pass out on top of you.

In general, he's a switch and how he acts is highly dependent on his mood for the day. He needs a lot of attention and affection, and likes to mark you up. He lacks shame, he'll initiate it anywhere. He's relatively quiet, but breathy. Sometimes, he touches you like you're porcelain about to crack. Other times, he manhandles you like a rag doll and does whatever he pleases. If you're able to, manhandle him in return, he'll probably get a little pissy with you but it's still funny.

:0 !

★・・・・・・★

[hannieehaee]

ahh i dont know if this is weird but i was just curious abt how you think svt would react to their s/o using a safeword during sex???

18+ / mdi

their s/o using the safeword during sex

content: mentions of sex, assumed established relationship, mentions of using the safe word, mentions of reader getting hurt, etc.

wc: 873

a/n: thank u for requesting!! i made it kind of ambiguous as to why the safe word was used so u can just use ur imagination for that<3

masterlist

seungcheol -

freaking out internally at having hurt you but!! externally he'd immediately jump into comforting mode and do everything in his power to ensure your safety and comfort. he'd apologize endlessly for having delayed even on second in detecting your discomfort and would spend the rest of the night cooing and pouting at you as he babied you.

jeonghan -

for once in his life he'd be caught so off guard and enter a state of shock, stopping immediately and unsure of how to proceed. even though things didnt go too far and you hadnt gotten hurt or anything, he'd still feel sooo fucking bad. wouldnt be able to joke to lighten the mood either bc he'd just feel so bad to have hurt you in such an intimate setting. would coo at you and caress you the rest of the day.

joshua -

soooo worried and apologetic. the apologies would be endless as he held onto you and ran his hand up and down your back. sex would be the last thing on his mind as he made sure you felt safe and calm. would make sure he knew what made you use the safe word so he'd never do it again.

jun -

he'd go from 0 to 100 super quickly with his brain completely disregarding what you guys were doing just a few moments ago to make sure you were okay. would ask a million questions as he checked with you. if you pointed out his still massively hard dick, he'd grab a pillow and cover it, claiming it was 100% off his mind at the moment.

soonyoung -

super apologetic lol would just mutter apology after apology after apology and hold onto you so tightly whenever you gave him the green light. he would barely even allow you a word in at first bc of how many apologies he'd be blabbering. would thank you for letting him know before things got too far bc it wouldve absolutely broken him if he had actually harmed you in any way.

wonwoo -

he'd be slow at stopping, knowing that if he suddenly were to stop he might run the risk of hurting you or scare you off. he would continue to be slow in his movements as he pulled you closer and held you in his arms, always giving you time and space to create a distance or move however you pleased. he'd apologize if he hurt you and try to do anything you needed to make sure you were comfortable.

jihoon -

irrationally scared he might've hurt you beyond forgiveness at first. this was a first for him, so he'd feel beyond apologetic and like he had committed a capital crime at having hurt you, even if it was an accident. once you both caught your breaths he'd comfort you (and himself) as he held onto you and made sure you were okay, apologizing for whatever it was that caused you to use your safe word.

seokmin -

stops immediately and becomes extremely apologetic about it to the point where he almost cries. he'd NEVER want to let his lust go so overboard to the point of even giving you the slightest discomfort so this instance would stick to him. you'd have to come to him next time u wanna have sex bc he'd wanna give you space to decide if u wanted sex again on ur own.

mingyu -

jumps off you so quickly he knocks himself off the bed with a huge tud, making himself become the actually injured one. the tables would turn, making you have to take care of the bruise he gave himself but would be consistently interrupted by him wanting to tend to you in case he had somehow hurt you.

minghao -

he'd take it so seriously even if you told him it wasn't that big of a deal, that you just felt off for some reason. none of your rebuttals mattered when he entered a zone of utmost worry for you. he'd switch things up completely, telling you to lay down while he made you a warm drink and prepared a bath for the two of you.

seungkwan -

really loud lol. he'd get scared at the situation, having never been through it and not knowing what to do. he'd end up going overboard and overcompensating in trying to tend to you after having accidentally hurt you.

vernon -

another member who would be too shocked to react at first, simply pulling away from you and blanking on what to do. after a few moments of staring blankly, he'd finally move and ask if you needed anything, checking if you were okay or if you were hurt in any way. he'd feel kind of awkward but would still be sincere in his worry for your wellbeing.

chan -

jumps back immediately, eyes wide as he freezes in place. would take him a few moments to actually get close enough to you to check what was wrong and offer his comfort. would feel soooooo fucking bad. would also feel embarrassed that he had somehow hurt you or made you uncomfortable in any way. you'd somewhat have to comfort him to make him realize it was fine since he listened when you used your safe word.

[tsumuus]

first date headcanons | my hero academia

a/n these are just some ideas on how i personally think these characters would ask you out on a date + the actual date. not proofread

characters izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, shoto todoroki

masterlist

izuku midoriya

spend a while preparing before asking you out

seeking advice from friends like uraraka or iida

they would encourage him to just be himself

he'd want the setting in which he does to feel special but not too overwhelming

determined yet still a bit nervous

lowk see him just writting a letter

it would be neat and you can tell how much thought went into it

for the actually dtae

he'd take into account your interests and preferences

super organized

it would be something casual yet fun

like a walk in a park

or visiting a cafe

any kind of place with a relaxed environment in which the two of you could both talk and get to know each other better

like prepare a small picnic at a nearby park

he'd bring homemade sandwiches and snacks

he;d be slightly embarssed but proud of his effort

pick a spot in the park in which you could lay a blanket down and just watch the sunset

he loves to make you smile

and all the little things he does like pick up a dandelion for you to make a wish, tuck your hair behind your ear, or just the sweet words can;t help but make you smile

once the suns set he'd suggest a quick stroll through the city, enjoying the lights and the atmosphere

he'd more at ease by this point

and holds your hand if youre comfy w it

on the walk back he would immediately ask if you guys could hang out again soon

katsuki bakugou

honest and straightforward

doesn;t beat aroudn the bush

he's confident, and if theres any ounce of nervousness in him you wouldn;t be able to tell

but his usual brash demeanor would slightly soften

but he's still direct

he'd do it when youre alone

he'd pull you aside, away from others, to avoid making a scene

makes it clear that he's serious about this

his way of thinking is simple

he likes you and wants to spend time with you, no need to complicate it

would prefer a lowkey setting for the date, rather than flashy activities

like just hanging out in one of your dorms would be enough for him

but he knows you deserve more than that

but he still focuses on just spending time with you

getting to know each other in a relaxed setting

given his competitive nature, maybe go to a small and lowkey bowling alley with a small arcade

preferably one thats not well known and popular

he'd enjoy the challenge in the activities and the chance to see your playful side

don't think he'd let you win, he'd a try hard and will attempt to beat you at everything

throughout the date, he would show subtle protective gestures

like walking on the side of the sidewalk thats closer to the road

ugh what a man

while he may not be the best with words, he would engage in all your conversations with honesty and openness

during quiet moments, where he lets his gaurd down, you get to see a glimpse of his geniune personality

on the way back to the dorms, as he asks to see you again, he'd be less gruff but still determined and direct

hes serious about you

as you say goodbye, he can;t help but linger outside your dorm for a little

his expression soft with a small smile

shoto todoroki

would take him a while to even realize he liked you lol

but when he does

he's calm about it

yet he still takes some time to reflect on his feelings

ensuring that he truly does want to take this next step

he wants to make sure that this is 100% the right move for the both of you

would choose a quiet, private moment to ask you out

he values sincerity and wants to ensure you are comfortable

he'd appraoch you with gentleness that reflects his sincerity

he would be calm and genuine, showing his true intentions

his idea of a perfect first date is simple get elegant

he'd suggest starting the date off with a walk in a garden or park

someplace that would likeley have no distractions that takes away his time with you

after the walk

he'd take you to a charming little tea place

the calm atmosphere allowing for deeper conversations between you both

he wants to learn everything about you that he doesn;t already know

whether thats going on for hours about your favorite books, music, hobbies

he wants to share parts of his life that are meaningful to him ofcourse, but would rather learn about you first

there would be quiet moments throughout your date, but he enjoys those

he seems to enjoy your presence more than anyone elses

if its chilly he'd offer you his scarf or jacket

his actions speaking volumes about his caring nature

he's the best listener

he values your guys connection and is eager to learn more about you

as the day comes to an end and you two walk back to the dorms, your conversations continue

what he has with you is completely new to him

he's never wanted to get to knwo someone more than he has with you

and he expresses this clearly when asking about your availability for future dates

[apassingbird]

It's well past midnight when Tommy steps into the club, the room a cacaphony of music, laughter, and people half yelling at each other. He had gotten the text half an hour earlier, letters and words nothing but a barely readable mess. He'd been able to decipher it eventually, though, typed out a stay there, and then hopped into an Uber.

It doesn't take long for him to find Buck. He's kind of hard to miss, actually, where he's standing on top of a table, phone in hand as he looks out over the crowd searching for Tommy. He might be a little bit disheveled after a night of partying, but when the lights hit him just so, Tommy wonders if Buck isn't the most beautiful man he's ever seen. He might be. Even when he looks like a kicked puppy, he might be.

Buck catches him then, the sad look on his face morphing into something else entirely, a soft smile and even softer eyes. It sets something alight in Tommy's chest. He smiles back, gives Buck a little wave, laughs when Buck immediately jumps off the table, and all but runs towards him. They meet somewhere in the middle, Tommy's hands finding their place on Buck's waist on the own accord, the motion almost too familiar after such a short amount of time. It's only been a few weeks. But then Buck loops his arms around Tommy's neck, crowds in closer and closer until they're pressed against each other. He clings and Tommy lets him.

"You okay?"

"Mm," Buck hums, presses his nose against Tommy's neck, takes a deep breath in. "You smell so good."

Tommy can't help but let out a small laugh, squeezing Buck's waist a little. "Thanks."

"I missed you." Buck's words are a mumbled mess against his skin, barely audible over the loud music. "'s not the same, without you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Buck sighs, presses a wet kiss into Tommy's skin, and leans back. His eyes cheeks are flushed, but his eyes are clearer than Tommy would've imagined. "I just- I wanted you to be here, y'know? With me. I wanted you to be here with me."

"I'm here now."

Buck nods, swallows, his eyes dropping momentarily to Tommy's mouth. "I wanna- we should kiss."

"Here?" Tommy asks, because of course he have to ask. "You sure?"

"Mm, yeah," Buck licks his lips, nods again. "Yeah, is that- don't you?"

"Evan," Tommy breathes out, wondering in what world Buck would ever think that he wouldn't want to kiss him. "Of course I want-"

He doesn't get to finish that sentence, as Buck pulls him in and captures those last words with his mouth. One of Buck's hands comes to a rest at the sharp line of Tommy's jaw, guiding him into another kiss and then another, until there's no pauses at all. Tommy's vaguely aware of the other people there, dancing and singing, moving as a wave around them. It all kind of fades away after a while. The only thing he knows in this very moment is Buck.

It's new and exciting to be so public about it, and Tommy is not afraid to admit that it makes him a bit weak in the knees. But then again, Buck has that effect on him on a daily basis by merely existing. Tommy's not afraid to admit that either.

[hollowdeath]

tied down (hjp)

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU

summary: you and harry potter, the biggest flirt at hogwarts, have been secretly hooking up for weeks after playing hard to get. harry's been dragging his feet when it comes to making things official, so when his flirty tendencies get him in trouble, you decide to play him at his own game and win.

content warning: mentions of hooking up, toxic harry, alcohol, jealousy, angst. briefly edited, not book/movie/canon accurate.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: trying to write shorter blurbs between my longer requests, so please let me know if you like this! i also think it's my first sfw blurb, but trust that i'll be back w the smut in no time <3

harry was known to be a player around hogwarts. he definitely wasn't afraid to go after what he wanted, as he wasn't often rejected. girls seemed to fall for him before he even got the chance to flirt with them. however, that seemed to change when you came to hogwarts.

harry had immediately tried to hit on you, of course. but he knew there was something different about you right away. not only were you the prettiest girl he'd ever talked to, you were also the hardest to get.

you didn't fall for harry's tricks right away and saw through his act. at first you were a bit put off by his player attitude, but you thought he was cute, so you decided to keep him around to see how far he'd actually go for you. you weren't one to be charmed and dropped within a week. if harry really liked you, he'd have no problem working for you.

so, that's what he did. harry focused his attention on you, made time outside of his friends to be with you, and was actually starting to feel real feelings for you. with other girls there was just this instant attraction, which would then fizzle out after harry got what he wanted. with you, however, the feelings only got stronger the longer you kept him guessing. he found himself intrigued by your clever personality and completely enamored with your humor.

after a while of pining for you, you finally gave in to him a bit. it was hard to hold yourself back from something you also wanted, but it was worth making him fight for it.

harry had asked you to help him 'study', which of course meant you were actually working on your assignments while harry was drooling over you the entire time. you didn't mind for the most part, he can be pretty cute when he gets caught staring, but you weren't about to be the only one working.

"can't you focus on anything for more than 2 seconds?" you had asked harry with a laugh, turning to meet his gaze on you. you were sitting in the library in a secluded section, a dim light above your heads as the sun began setting outside of the windows next to you.

"you. all day." harry smirks, looking you up and down. you rolled your eyes, but harry saw the blush on your cheeks. "and you can't even do that without getting distracted." you tease him, smirking in return as you close your textbook.

"a guy runs into a pillar one time…" harry mumbles, annoyed. you're laughing at the memory, your hand covering your face. "it wasn't funny!" harry insists, but your laugh is making him crack a smile.

you look at him again, and he's enamored with the sight of you. giggling, blushing, the lighting so beautiful around you he swears he believes in angels now. you shake your head at him, still smirking and chuckling. "it was pretty funny." you told him, leaning towards him from laughing so hard in your seat.

"you're pretty." harry deadpans, his eyes searching you over and over. you really were pretty, prettier than harry could ever put into words.

you would normally roll your eyes or scoff at harry's attempt to flirt with you, but he wasn't flirting. he was being genuine. his eyes were honest and full of admiration for you in that moment.

so, you just leaned in and kissed him.

it was simple, sweet, and opened the gates to so much more over time. harry took it as an invite to start kissing you at random, intimate moments as well. nothing more than a kiss for a while, until you were the one to actually push it further by making out, giving harry love bites, touching over clothes, which then lead to touching under clothes…

within a few months you two were hooking up in secret nearly every week. harry had flings here and there before but never anything exclusive and extended like things have been with you. and while you found the secret hook ups to be exciting and fun at first, you didn't want to just be another girl on harry's roster. you were really starting to like him, and didn't want to see yourself get played.

whenever you tried to joke about becoming official, harry would laugh you off or ignore it completely. he knew it was starting to frustrate you, but he'd never been in a relationship before and he was afraid it wasn't what he really wanted. of course harry had feelings for you, feelings he's never felt for someone before, but he's always wanted to keep his options open. besides, he liked your casual hookups. was that so wrong of him?

he liked moments like right now, sitting across from you in the gryffindor common room, hanging out with a few friends and giving each other knowing looks between conversations. while everyone around you knew you two were definitely flirty towards one another, nobody really knew how much time you spent together. not just hooking up, but all the times the other has stayed the night talking for hours until the morning, or all the private study dates alone in the back of the library. you guys were definitely more than friends with benefits, but harry never acted like it when other people were around. he could tell you were starting to find it annoying rather than flattering.

your friends had been talking about a party someone was throwing that weekend when a couple girls walked through the room on their way out to leave. "guess i should start asking around for a date then, huh? what about you, you seem fun." harry's friend called towards one of the girls. they both turned to him, looked at each other, and laughed, making you laugh to yourself.

"what? i clean up nice!" he tried to redeem himself. the girls scoffed at him. "yeah, right," one of them said sarcastically. "yeah," the other said, still giggling as she looked towards harry. "besides, i'd rather go with your friend." she says in a flirtatious voice.

a few of your friends give you a side eye, but you just smirk and look at harry, waiting for his response. he glanced at you before looking at the girl and laughing nervously. his friend laughed heartily. "i don't think he's available that night..." he said, turning his head towards you.

harry throws his hands up defensively, a smirk on his face as he looks the girl up and down. "hey, you never know. i could be." he says with a chuckle. more eyes are drawn to you as you look at him with a curious expression.

"call me then." the girl says with a wink before leaving with her friend, giggling the entire way out the door.

there's a silence in the air as everyone looks between you and harry. he sees everyone's concerned eyes and becomes confused. "what?" he asks with a laugh.

you scoff at him, amused at his confusion. "what was that?" you asked, your tone still playful as you gesture to where the girls were. "what? it was a joke!" harry says, his hands raised in defense again. you click your tongue and roll your eyes, an evil smirk growing on your face. "oh, come on, [y/n]," harry says with an exasperated voice, leaning back in his seat.

"i don't know, harry, that was cold." harry's friend says with a nervous laugh. "yeah, [y/n]'s sitting right here." one of your friends reminds him.

you look back at harry, who's now rolling his eyes. "i was kidding. besides, we never said we were going together," he argues, pointing in your direction. all eyes fall back on you as a few "ooh"s are let out under breaths. you cross your arms, still giving harry that same evil smirk.

he looks at you again, his eyes softening at your expression. "stop, i'm not–""no, you're right. we never said that," you interrupt him with a sarcastic, knowing tone in your voice.

harry gave you a look, knowing what you were doing. "you never know, i could still find a date," you tell your friends, who start laughing with you. harry's friend looks towards him nervously, but his eyes were narrowed in on you. "right, harry?" you ask him innocently.

harry's tongue runs across his teeth, feeling his blood pressure rise just from thinking about you with another guy. however, he's not about to let you have the upper hand in front of everyone just like that. "yeah, sure. i could too." he says coldly.

still smirking, you nod your head and stand from your seat on the couch. "perfect, guess we gotta go find me a dress, yeah?" you ask your friends who eagerly jump up to join you on a shopping trip. on your way out, you wave a casual goodbye towards harry without another word.

harry's friend hits his shoulder, laughing at him. "you fucked up," he tells him. harry shrugs him off. "whatever, we're not even dating. besides, she won't actually bring another guy." harry tries to convince himself, still staring at the door. "if you're not dating then why would you care, mate?" harry's friend's still laughing at his misery when harry gets up to go to his room.

harry doesn't hear from you the rest of the week, and gets incredibly anxious the night of the party thinking you actually might show up with a date. by the time he's on his way with a few friends, all he wants is a drink to calm his nerves. because, well, so what if you showed up with a guy? you weren't his girlfriend, and that's how harry wanted it, right?

"nervous about something, harry?" one of them asked, snickering with the others. "shut the fuck up." harry snaps, only making them laugh harder at him. "lighten up, mate. just shag someone else tonight and get over it." another teased him. harry just stayed quiet and ignored their taunts.

harry's already finished with his first drink before he notices you entering the room. you looked fucking incredible. the dress, the hair, the makeup, everything was perfect. any other time he would've been thrilled to see you so dolled up, but he knew you only did this tonight to spite him. you knew exactly what you were doing and you were doing it well.

you were laughing with a few friends and getting your first drink when you spotted harry, already staring you down. you instantly smirked and gave him a look from head to toe before turning away and following your friends to the other room to dance.

harry followed as well, his friends joining behind him to find girls to dance with. the music was too loud to think, but harry's mind was racing watching you sway your hips to the song as you joined the crowd of dancing students. he tried to keep an eye on you but you disappeared into the sea of faces.

"just have fun, mate." one of harry's friends yelled to him over the music, patting him on the shoulder. harry gave him a half smile, nodding in his direction. he was right. if you were going to be like that, harry could play along too. he was the player first, anyway.

scanning the rest of the room, harry finds a decently pretty girl on the edge of the crowd and begins talking her up. he's only half-interested in the conversation with the clearly tipsy girl, his eyes still searching the room to find you again.

he's about to give up and go looking for you when you suddenly come into his view, only a few feet away. you were dancing in front of some guy, he looked like a kid in harry's eyes. you were chatting with him, your hands messing with the bottle in your hand as your hips continued to sway. you weren't even close to him or seemed to be flirting with him at all, but just seeing you with another guy looking as good as you did made harry's fists clench. 

you glanced in his direction and he immediately turned to the girl in front of him and began laughing, nodding his head to the music, pretending he never saw you. once harry felt your gaze drift away, he looked back, and you were gone.

sighing, harry says his goodbyes to the drunk girl and gets another drink for himself, chugging half of it before coming back up for air. he stands by the table for a minute trying to let his heart rate slow before hearing your laugh entering into the room.

harry turns and sees you saying your goodbyes to a different guy than the one from before, some tall kid with terrible posture that harry could easily take on. as he leaves the room, it's just you and harry next to the drinks. you turn and see him, a surprised smile on your face. "hi," you say politely, stepping around him to grab another drink.

"how long were you planning on torturing me, exactly?" harry asked you, sounding angrier than he meant to. you just chuckled to yourself, a confused look on your face as you removed the cap from your next bottle. "what do you mean?" you asked innocently.

harry let out an angry huff, staring at you with his jaw set. "you know exactly what you're doing." harry deadpans. you look at him knowingly, taking a swig of your drink before shrugging. "i'm just having fun." you told him with a smirk. "yeah, i can see that." harry spits out. you're clearly reveling in his jealousy which is only frustrating him further.

he looks you up and down once more and can hardly contain himself. your skin looks so soft, and you smell even better than you look. he's never seen you in such a short dress and it's driving him insane knowing it's not just for him. don't these losers staring at you know harry's the only one that's seen what's under this dress? that he knows all your favorite spots to be kissed, your weaknesses, your fantasies? that he's been fucking pining over you for months to get your attention?

speaking of losers, another one comes into the room and walks straight up to you, ignoring harry like he was never there. "hello, beautiful," he said in a voice that made harry aggressively roll his eyes, turning his head to look away, his hands balling into fists again.

"saw you on the dancefloor and figured i'd ask for a song," he invites you, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles. "you've got every eye on you tonight, yeah?" the loser says, causing harry to lick his teeth and turn his angry stare back to you.

you were smiling at the guy politely, too politely for harry's taste, before turning him down gently. "no problem, maybe i'll win you over later." he says with a wink before leaving, never acknowledging harry once.

you looked back at harry with a smug smile. "really? i'm right here." he says incredulously, throwing his hands up. you can't help but laugh. "doesn't feel good, does it? at least i rejected him." you make your point with raised eyebrows, taking another drink.

harry sighs, the anger subsiding as he sets his drink down. "look, it was a bad joke, okay? i wanted to come with you this whole time, and i think you know that." he says with a pout. you just continue smirking. "i know." you say simply.

"then why? why are you doing this to me?" harry begs, a hint of anger still present behind his guilt. you laugh again, and it only makes harry more confused and upset. "just enjoy yourself, harry." you tell him, patting his shoulder like his friend did earlier as you left behind him.

harry downs the rest of his drink and half of his third before returning to the room with the music, seeing a few of his friends dancing with some random girls. as harry walks through the crowd, a girl grabs him by the shoulders and begins dancing with him to the beat of the music. harry looks at her, looks around, and sees you to his right.

dancing with yet another guy.

this time he was holding your hand as you swayed your hips to the music, watching you with a hunger in his eye. harry's rage immediately returned. he looked down at the girl who grabbed him and pulled her closer to him, moving his hips to the beat with her. after a moment he looked back at you and caught your eyes for just a second before you returned to dancing.

harry continued to move with the girl half heartedly in an attempt to get your attention for a few minutes before he saw you heading for the front door with your friends. just as harry broke away from the dancing girl to follow, a completely different guy cut him off to chase you out of the room.

harry could physically feel himself succumbing to his anger as he stomped towards the door. he entered the hallway and saw you standing just a few feet away, your back turned as your friends were dying laughing beside you.

as harry approaches, he sees the guy that just followed you out now in front of you, clearly drunk, asking you repeatedly if you'll give him your number. you're saying, "no, i'm sorry, no, thank you, though," with an uncomfortable laugh, trying to turn him down gently.

the guy literally drops to his knees in front of you, his hands in yours, begging for your number. "please, please, just gimme a chance, you're so–" he gets interrupted by a burp. "so pretty," he chokes out.

your friends are giggling amongst themselves before harry walks up to the guy, stunning them into silence. "she said no, fucking tosser," harry's voice bellows, picking the guy up by his collar from his knees. "now leave my girlfriend alone, yeah?" harry growls into his face before throwing him towards the door. the guy flips harry off before stumbling back into the party.

your friends gasp and laugh to themselves again, telling you they're gonna go before running off down the hall together giggling the entire way.

harry's breathing heavily, his fists still clenched staring at the door. "girlfriend?" your curious voice perks up behind him.

he turns to you, smiling at your shocked expression. his hands relaxed, as well as his mind. "yes, my girlfriend." he says matter-of-factly, taking a step towards you to put a hand on your waist. "i don't want any other guy looking at you the way they did tonight ever again. okay? you win. you're mine." harry says possessively, his hands gripping you closer to him.

you sighed. "i wasn't trying to make you mad tonight, i just wanted you to see that you're not the only one with options." you tell him smugly, your arms wrapping around his neck. "i want to be taken seriously, harry. that's all i ever wanted from you." you say genuinely, your eyes searching his.

harry looks down at you and smiles, admiring you for a moment. "you're all i've wanted since the moment i saw you," he admits, resting his forehead against yours. "i love you, [y/n]."

you smile, leaning in to kiss him softly. "i love you too, harry."

[vivwritesfics]

Fire Is The Devils Only Friend

Chapter Five

There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him

1.1K

Series Masterlist

Carlos didn't tell her that he had bought her book. He didn't mention it when he kissed her goodbye, leaving her with Piñón. But it was in his bag as he headed to the Grand Prix.

With Rebecca Donaldson at the Grand Prix, there was very little Carlos could do to show her that he loved her. But any spare moment he got, he was reading her book. In his drivers room, in the back of the garage when he wasn't needed, he had her book open.

Fans noticed immediately. They first noticed that he was reading. But then they took notice of what he was reading. At first it was no big deal. She'd been in the garage a couple of months ago, so it wasn't the most outlandish thing in the world.

But then one fan pointed out that the book had only been released in English. He was reading the book in English!

The theories from the fans started. Well, were they theories if they were correct? The ferrari media team watched if all unfold. They knew they had to get on top of it and quick.

So, while she was sending her mother a picture of Piñón with his head on her lap, a picture was circulating instagram. She hadn't touched instagram since the day she found out about Carlos and Rebecca, and she didn't touch it this time.

A screenshot from Carlos's account, his latest post, in fact, was he and Rebecca Donaldson, hand in hand as he kissed her head, popped up below the picture she had sent her mother. 'Is this him?' Her mother had typed beneath the picture.

"Fuck," she choked, turning the phone off and throwing it to the side. Piñón went to chase after the phone, but she held onto his collar, crying against his fur.

She thought she was okay with it, but she wasn't. She hadn't been prepared for the onslaught of emotions that came with seeing that picture.

"He kisses my head like that," she said to Piñón. "I don't think we have any pictures like that together."

Of course, she didn't know the context, didn't know why that picture had been posted. She didn't know it was because Carlos had been caught reading her book, and that fans were beginning to get suspicious.

She wiped her tears and grabbed Piñón's lead. Taking nothing but a set of keys, she left their house and took Piñón for a walk.

It was therapeutic, taking Piñón on his walk. He led the way, taking her on the trail he usually walked with Carlos. The three of them had never gone together. It was usually Carlos. Normally, when she took Piñón, she was careful, avoiding main roads and potential pictures being taken.

But, today, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

"Is it my fault?" She asked Piñón as she sat on a bench. "I mean, if I hadn't been so against us being public in the first place would this have happened?"

Of course, Piñón didn't answer. He couldn't answer. He was a dog.

She thought she could do this. She certainly loved Carlos enough to try. But this, seeing another beautiful woman doing all of the things she wished she could do with him, was too much.

And even if Carlos publicly broke things off with Rebecca for her, he'd always be seen as a cheater and she'd always be seen as the other woman. It could ruin her life.

Well no, that was exaggeration. But she didn't see it that way, she wasn't going to see that way, not for a while. At the moment, Piñón was the only thing keeping her there.

Carlos was on the podium. It was a win, actually. She watched on the television as he stayed ahead of the rest of the grid. He was showing Ferrari exactly what they would miss if they dropped him. It gave her a little slither of hope.

But that hope soon dissipated. She wore a small smile as Carlos climbed out of the car. He ran over to celebrate with his team, and then his father. The father that didn't know she existed.

Behind his father, she was there. Carlos hugged her as she stepped towards the barrier. Hugging wasn't so bad; they couldn't be seen ignoring each other, after all.

But then Rebecca's hands were on his face and she pulled him in for a kiss. The camera zoomed in on them as Carlos shut his eyes, melting into her.

Fuck, she couldn't do this.

For the second time in two weeks, she packed up her things and placed them in her car. Tears rolled down her sheets as she turned the few frames full of pictures of her and Carlos around so that they were facing the wall.

Last, she grabbed Piñón's bed. He wasn't her dog, and she had no intention of keeping him from Carlos, but she was going to take him with her, keep him well looked after while Carlos was away.

And then, when Carlos came to pick him up, she'd break up with him.

Piñón sat in the back of the car as she drove to her mother's house. "Oh, buddy," she whispered. As they drove. He slept on the drive, unaware that anything was wrong. She couldn't help but be envious of him, of how unaware he was of what was going on.

Her mother opened the door as soon as she saw her car coming up the drive. "You couldn't do it, could you?" She called, watching her climb out of the car.

She scowled as she grabbed Piñón. When she saw him, her mother gasped and let out a laugh. "You kidnapped his dog? That's hilarious," she said taking the dogs lead from her daughter.

Her daughter, who said nothing as she got her things from the car. Her mother could never understand this, could never understand what she was going through.

"I saw them doing all of the things that I wanted to do with him," she said quietly as she walked into the house and unclipped Piñón's lead. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch it, I couldn't watch him pretend to be with her while I sat at home, looking after his dog."

She scratched Piñón's ears. Piñón, who, at that moment, she'd miss most of all.

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minseok-smaus @formulaal @darleneslane @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @not-nyasa

Series Taglist (OPEN):@juleswrites223 @ellessssssxzxz @itsjustkhaos @booksandflowrs @landossainz @laneyspaulding19 @sleepybrokenmelle @92spcy @khaylin27 @princessria127 @aexitizen-ln4 @russellette @cmleitora @shobaes @val-writes @rehenys @sam-is-lost @sp1rl @seasonswinter @nmw-am

[writer-in-theory]

Ever since he can remember, everyone has always said Steve looked like his Mama.

He acts like her too—that persistent kindness and protectiveness for the people they love, the ability to talk to people with relative ease, even the propensity for having a bit of an attitude. Even his soft brown eyes and the texture of his hair, all of it was Maggie Harrington.

Maggie always said that Steve was her greatest accomplishment, one of her best friends. She was so proud of her son, first for being Hawkins High's first All-State Champ in swimming and then for being a good role model in town. She'd missed the moment when he began to distance from her, from his parents, until she hardly knew anything about his life. She thinks it might've been because of Robert.

Steve Harrington could only have the best in store for him, which is why she'd allowed Robert to be tough with him. He knew what it meant to build a good future, what it would take to find happiness and stability. So she'd let Robert yell at him for throwing a party at their house and allowing a poor girl to go missing there. And she'd thought it had worked, based on the way Steve started bringing around sweet Nancy Wheeler and stopped hanging out with the Hagan boy. She thought it had worked.

When the Harringtons came home from their last business trip to Chicago, Steve was being dropped off by Police Chief Hopper. It looked like he'd been in a fight, and as much was confirmed when the Chief told him to stay out of trouble. Robert had been furious, ready to lay into Steve about the Harrington name and respectability, but then a group of kids Maggie didn't recognize tumbled out of the car, too, all hugging Steve and thanking him. He was their hero, they'd told the Harringtons, Steve was the best babysitter ever. Steve had never showed interest in babysitting before, but the way all of those kids so clearly looked up to him had Maggie in near tears.

Maggie had a feeling the mall job was a mistake. She'd felt it the moment Robert made the decision, loudly proclaiming that their son would learn what it was like to work a tough job, that he'd realize how lucky he had it that there was a family business he could be hired in. Maggie hated the humiliated look their Steven had given the first time he set out for the mall in that sailor's uniform, but her husband knew what it was like to be a teen boy, surely he had Steve's best interests at heart.

But then she'd gotten the call that there had been a fire, that Steve was involved and they needed to get down to the hospital. If she thought the fight in '84 looked bad, then nothing could have prepared her for the sight of her son in that hospital bed, vomiting profusely into a container and wincing through the obvious pain in his head. The morning after, that same group of kids fought the hospital staff to visit Steve, demanded it. The one with curly hair and the youngest girl loudly proclaimed that Steve had saved their lives, that he'd risked himself to make sure they were safe. Her baby was an actual goddamn town hero and she'd almost missed it, she almost never knew because she was too busy worrying about his future.

Maggie stopped worrying about family names and legacies, after that. She was the first to ask how his shifts at the movie store were and never minded when his talkative friend came over for dinner. Maggie kept waiting for the moment Steve would admit the two of them were dating, but he kept insisting they were friends, best friends.

She never saw Eddie Munson coming.

After the fourth tragedy to befall Steve, Maggie was convinced he needed to get out of Hawkins before it destroyed him. No one could find Steve in the immediate aftermath of the earthquake. He wasn't at the shelter, or the hospital, or with any other search parties. She'd worried briefly that the serial killer had gotten him, too, that they'd have to see what was so horrific about the method of killing that had left the town sparking a witch hunt for the guy.

He was found later at the Munson trailer, wearing military-style gear and bleeding out from his abdomen and neck. Maggie would never understand how an earthquake could cause that level of damage, nor the kind that was found on Eddie Munson just beside him. When Steve had woken up in the hospital, he'd simply told her that he couldn't talk about it, that it was better if she didn't know. She thinks that might be true.

Once Steve recovered, he stayed by the Munson boy's bedside every day. He'd bring a book, or a hacky sack, anything to keep himself busy while Eddie slept off his injuries. And when he came home, Steve was with him constantly. They were volunteering, he'd told her.

Then one day, months after the earthquake, Steve came home looking nervous.

"Mom." Maggie ached for the days when he'd come waddling into the living room screaming Mama, missed when he felt like he could tell her everything. When had that disappeared? "I need to tell you something."

"Of course, Stevie. You can tell me anything." Steve winced in the way she figured he would: they both know that hadn't been true in years.

Steve shuffled on his feet, wrung his hands together and worried them through his hair. Finally he stood ramrod straight, eyes focused directly on hers as he blurted the truth out. "Mom, I like guys. And girls. It's called being bisexual and I'm not sorry for it. I can pack a bag tonight if I have to, but I won't pretend anymore. I won't."

It was supposed to be scary. Maggie knows the version of her four years ago would have been terrified by the statement, angry or upset. Maybe she still is a little scared, only because she knows what the world is like for people who are different. She used to be upset by people who were different. In '83, she might've kicked Steve out for the fear of it all. But looking at him now, she saw the kid who drove those middle schoolers to the arcade because he could, and who saved peoples' lives in the mall at the near expense of his own, the guy who believed Eddie Munson was innocent even when the entire town had turned on him out of fear of the Other. She saw Steve Harrington, her darling son who'd grown up before she even realized it, becoming far greater a man than she could have ever hoped for.

"How long have you two been dating? You and Eddie Munson?" Maggie asked gently, a smile working its way on her face. She'd wondered why he hadn't dated anyone after Nancy, but maybe it was simply that he wasn't telling her about that part of his life anymore.

Steve's eyes widened, lips parting like he was surprised by the response. He floundered a little, looking around for an explanation. "Um. Since last summer, we met at the mall. How did you...?"

Maggie laughed then, far brighter than it ever had been in years. "I know when my son's in love. I just didn't know where to look, didn't notice the answer was right there."

"You're not...mad? Disappointed?"

"Honey," Maggie sighed, taking a few steps forward so she could grab onto his arms. "Steven Robert Harrington, you are my son. I will always love you, no matter what. I'm so sorry I ever ever made you feel otherwise. All I've ever wanted for you is happiness, and if that's with Eddie Munson then that's that."

"Mom," Steve croaked, voice cracking around the word as he pulled her in for a hug. She could feel him shake in her arms, sniffling like he was trying to hide the tears. "Do you want to meet him? Eddie, I mean, do you want to...?"

"He's outside?"

"He came over to support me, in case we needed to, well." In case his parents were kicking him out. God, where had they gone so wrong? "Do you want to?"

"Please," Maggie answered quietly, knowing this wouldn't be enough to make up for the years of wrong they'd done. She wanted to know her son, wanted to know the people who made him happiest. She wanted to hear about his day and know that if something ever went wrong that he would call his parents himself, not wait for the hospital or the police to do so. "Please."

Then Steve was bringing in Eddie Munson, who stood out in the pristine, polished Harrington home but who made Maggie's son's eyes light up in a way she'd never seen them. He was smiling, holding his hand out for a handshake.

"Mama, this is Eddie," Steve was saying, and Maggie could cry because it felt like she'd done something right, because she could see how deeply in love Steve was with Eddie because it was a mirror of her own expression when she looked at Robert. This was her son, and her future son-in-law, and Maggie couldn't be prouder.

[brabblesblog]

Sounds like a plan.

Drabble set right after act II’s confession scene. What if Tav didn’t feel quite alright with Astarion’s manipulation, and tried to just go along with it for his sake?

Angst with a happy ending. Also a tiny bit of Gale. Enjoy!

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

He starts to notice when you stop smiling at him.

Oh, you'd smirk and laugh when talking to him, but that wasn't it - you just didn't smile.

That one he'd craved so much to see, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your nose flare a little. That smile. He hadn't seen it since the night he confessed his feelings to you.

He’d worry about it more, if you two didn’t spend every waking moment together. If you didn’t move into his tent. Didn’t cuddle with him every night, and woke up tangled in his arms every dawn.

So he put it aside for now. Your relationship was a new and fragile thing, and he dared not risk it.

That is, until he noticed you smiling like that with Gale. Astarion had just been walking back to camp from a hunt, when he had heard your voice and Gale’s and had inadvertently began to eavesdrop.

You had been sitting by the campfire with the wizard, reading one of those raunchy romance novels Shadowheart had given you. The two of you were huddled close together, knees touching, chortling and snorting as you read the passages aloud.

“I don’t think elves have… appendages of that size,” Gale remarks after a particularly salacious line. “Would they?” He shoots you a particularly nasty smirk.

You laugh, all pretense thrown aside. “I haven’t seen enough elf cock to know,” you mumble. “Or any other type of cock, for that matter.”

Gale chuckles. “You’ve been sleeping with one, have you not?” There is a small note of sadness in Gale’s voice when he says this, and you note it. You had turned the wizard down for Astarion.

The laugh that was about to come out of you dies at Gale’s words. You remember sleeping with Astarion, remember how your relationship started, how-

You shake your head, trying to clear out those thoughts. You want to just have fun right now, not think about your complicated situation. Gale notices, and he closes the spicy book. He looks to you, those large eyes holding nothing but affection and concern for you.

“Is something the matter? Anything you need, I’ll be there,” he reminds. He may not be your partner, but he’s still one of your closest friends in camp.

“Actually.” You weigh your options. No one seemed to be here at camp, and so you decide to confide in your friend. “Yes. There.. there is a problem. With.. with Astarion and I.”

Astarion initially rolls his eyes as he hears this conversation. It’s just banter, and he doesn’t mind. What made him stay there and listen in for a moment was the sound of your laughter. It was so genuine and he had not heard it in what felt like forever. He felt a pang of jealousy that of all people, Gale had been the one to bring it out of you. As he prepared to go back to your shared tent, he finally heard you mention his name. He froze, immediately rooted to the spot by fear. He had to know what was wrong. He had to fix it before you left him.

Gale puts a comforting hand on your knee. “Then I will lend you my ears. I shall keep your confidence.”

“It’s- it’s hard to explain,” you begin, speaking gently. “Does it make sense if I say I understand why he would do something he did, but it hurts anyways?”

“More than you know,” Gale replies somberly. “You understand their reasons. Sympathize, even. But you can’t help how you feel.” He pauses, considering it. “Does he know?”

“No.” You shake your head, answering without hesitation. “I didn’t want to give him more things to worry about. He..”

He already has too many things on his plate, you figured, and your petty little issues are nothing compared to what he’s going through.

Gale nods. “And you didn’t want to burden him. I understand.” He clears his throat. “I’m not a good choice for advice regarding relationships, however- it’s common knowledge that hiding things from each other so early on is a portent for disaster. I hope you know that.”

“I know, Gale,” you say, your tone sharpening. Then you let out a sigh, forcing yourself to calm down. “I just don’t want to hurt him any more than he’s already been hurt. I can’t hate him for what he did to me, but I want to hate him for how much it hurts.”

Your voice breaks at the last moment, and you bury yourself in Gale’s shoulder. He wraps a comforting arm around you, letting you finally let out those feelings you’ve been bottling in.

“I thought,” you gasp, “that he’d finally be the one person to actually want me for me.”

Astarion, hidden in the periphery of the camp, sees and hears everything. He keeps silent, as his own heart rips at the sound of your sobbing. Of course. How could he have been so blind? How could he have just assumed you were okay with what he did? After his confession, you had said everything was okay, and he had taken it at face value.

Gods damned it, Astarion thinks. As the conversation dies and you gradually shift to just sobbing into Gale’s shoulder, Astarion slips away.

You head back to your shared tent and hour or so later, opening the flaps. To your surprise, your lover sits there. He snaps upwards the moment your face pokes in, as if he had been waiting for just that exact moment.

“You’re back early,” you say, slipping in and closing the flap behind you. You drop to your knees and crawl towards the bedroll beside him, exhausted.

“Caught a boar quite early on. I daresay I got a bit lucky,” is the reply, delivered in a tone that just sounded off to your ears. He moves to wrap an arm around you, pulling you close to him. “And you, darling? Catching up with the wizard?” He tries to go for nonchalant, and absolutely fails it.

You notice it then, the way he’s actually not even breathing. The way his chest is stiff as a board, the way his fingers tremble.

“Astarion,” you squeeze your eyes shut. “You heard.”

“Every word,” he says, a pained sigh escaping his lips. His arm stops pulling you close. You turn to face him, and you see his face, more pained than you have ever seen him before. When he had confessed, he looked frightened. This time he looked resigned. You watch him clench his jaw, preparing to say the words he knew he should say.

Astarion takes a small, sharp breath. He meets your gaze.

“I hurt you.” The statement is quiet, emotionless. “You shouldn’t have told me you were okay, darling. You should have let me know.” His jaw works again, and he struggles to say the next words.

“I’ve put your things in your pack. You can leave whenever you wish.”

He tries not to cry. Not to beg for you to stay. Because you deserve to go. You deserve real, and if you can’t be real with him, then he isn’t the one who deserves you. Swallowing, his hand caresses your cheek. “I am sorry.”

Sorry he can’t give you what you deserve. Sorry he hurt you. Sorry he was what he was.

You sit up. You try to see what he’s thinking, to see if this relationship still had anything to salvage. But here in the dark, it’s very hard to tell. You brace yourself; the thing missing here was communication, and you’ll be damned if you don’t try to do just that before it all blows up.

“Do you want this, Astarion? Us?”

A quick, quiet hiss of pain breaks the silence. His eyes brighten, filling up with tears. They don’t fall just yet.

“Yes. Gods, yes.”

Your own shoulders drop, and you exhale.

“Then I’m going nowhere. But I suppose we should talk about what you overheard.”

He exhales, relief flooding his features. The guardedness isn’t quite gone yet, however. He makes no move to close the gap. Instead he sits up, matching your position.

“What else is there to say? I manipulated you. You felt a lot less gracious about it than you originally thought. Seems about the sum of it, no?”

There is a little defensiveness there. As if he’s already building walls in the event of your departure.

“Somewhat, but not quite.” You clear your throat. “I don’t blame you. I’m not upset at you. Or resentful. Or whatever else you think I am. Before anything else, I want you to know that.”

His eyes widen, surprised. He had overheard the conversation; he should have known this. But hearing it so directly said was different. You can see his shoulders sag as the tension leaves his body, as that terrible knot in his heart starts to loosen. He nods, acknowledging your statement and an encouragement to continue.

“I’m just hurt.” That was the root of all of it, really. “I’m hurt, but I didn’t want you to know. You already suffer so much, that it felt…” you trail off, trying to find the words.

“Frivolous, darling?” He suggests. As you nod he continues. “Just because I’m going through things doesn’t mean there’s no space… for your feelings,” he begins tentatively. He takes one more small breath, then reaches across to take your hand, just like he did that night he confessed.

“I’ve spent two hundred years carrying my own burdens. You have shared my load. Please. Let me lighten yours too.”

You scan his face, on instinct, trying to see any signs of insincerity. There is none. His eyes are round and open, and his hand remains on yours, palm up, an invitation for you to come to him.

You choke back tears, leaning forward to touch your foreheads together. “It’s just that I wished you were.. that we started differently. That you wanted me..”

“For you,” he says, repeating what you said to Gale. “I know. And I might not have, at the start. I might have seen you as a means to an end.”

He gathers his courage and moves to wrap his arms around you. “But now I do,” he whispers against your ear. “I want you for you.”

You melt into his arms then, moulding yourself to his torso as you cry yet again. But unlike your tears when talking to Gale, this feels like relief. Like home.

He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You said you aren’t upset at all. But you can. We can..” he thinks for a moment, then proceeds. “We can take some time apart, if that’s what you want. We can take a step back and see if we can end up back here again.”

Saying that felt like torture for him. But he knew it needed to be said. You needed to have that option.

You shake your head. “No. I’m- I would very much rather be in this, whatever this is,” you say with a teary laugh. “But you’re right. I think I’ll still need some time to go through it and accept everything.”

“Just don’t forget, Astarion. It’s not your fault. It’s not,” you say vehemently. “I’m just hurt, but I’m not holding you responsible.”

He wants to protest, but knows better than to. Instead he nods. Carefully he cups your face in his hands, and you shiver as his cool palms make contact with your wet cheeks.

He kisses the tears away, each kiss a soft, feather-light brush against your skin.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. For your kindness. For your forgiveness and grace. For your love, although he couldn’t even use that word yet, even to himself. For the gift of yourself, always so generously given, from the very start.

He wishes he could someday live up to your love. That he would be worth everything you give him. He tries to voice this out.

“If you’re staying, then… it gives me a challenge, mm?” He tries to smile. “I’ll try to be worth the trouble. But no promises, darling.”

You huff out a laugh. This beautiful, strong, insufferable man. How could he think he wasn’t worth it to you? But you understood. You felt the same way.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you say. “As for me, well. I don’t imagine I’ll ever be worth all that, either.”

“Then we’ll be worthless together,” he says without missing a beat. If you only knew how special he thought you were. How worthy. How you make him want to be better.

He presses his lips to yours, finally. Sealing your words together. A promise for you two to share each other’s burdens. Together.

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree.