#I have so many ideas in my head about how his relationship to himself would change after moving to metropolis
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cyanbeetle · 9 months ago
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I’ve tried like 500 times to articulate my thoughts about nonwhite superman and how much that adds to his childhood of loneliness and every time I hit a stumbling block because the topic makes me too insane to think but please hold my hand and imagine this little boy trying to grow up in rural Kansas and being the only person he’s ever known who looks like he does. This little boy who never has a proper answer when people ask where he’s really from, and even once he knows the truth of himself he can never safely share it. Please imagine him fighting every single day to belong and never being able to no matter how hard he tries because people will always find something questionable in the very way he looks. A lot of the superman mythos is dependant on Clark’s ability to assimilate but when you take that away what is left?? He’s just a kid fighting so hard for a belonging he’ll never have a hope in hell of being handed. Oh it hurts my heart
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benevolenterrancy · 2 months ago
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hi! I recently came across your tgcf fics, and I wanted to say you’re a phenomenal creator. the recovery series fic and the gloves fic and just all of them. thank you for your content and great attention to detail.
do you have any thoughts/hcs on FXMQ and Xie Lian you’d be willing to share? within the original story or the universes of your fics!
Thank you so much, I'm glad you're enjoying them! (ノ*^▽^*)ノ.。:*☆
hmm, random thoughts about the FXMQ... a silly headcanon: Feng Xin has very much been hoisted by his own petard by heckling Mu Qing! That is to say, he'll harass Mu Qing relentlessly about something stupid only to be confronted with a similar situation and realise that there's absolutely NO way he can act in anyway similar to Mu Qing or he'll never hear the end of it.
(For example, he has tolerated some truly atrocious divine statues in the past because he's heckled Mu Qing so much about how picky he is with his divine statues that there's no WAY he can say ANYTHING without seeing that smug bastard's face in his head so he just has to bite his tongue and tolerate some unspeakably ugly statues.)
Mu Qing doesn't generally suffer from similar overthinking (he'll just prepare to kick FX's ass if he dares to say anything about it) except for things more directly related to himself. I think he genuinely finds sewing/embroidery/etc rather relaxing work but he'd rather die than have anyone ever see him do it because he's made such a big deal about not doing that sort of "servant" work anymore.
(He actually really enjoyed stitching Ruoye back together because it gave him the perfect excuse -- he's returning a favour!! and Xie Lian is hopeless!! of course he had to!! -- and he secretly considered using white thread to embroider some invisible little designs just because he doesn't quite want to stop... only he knew he'd get caught if he messed with Xie Lian's spiritual device like that and gave up the idea)
#tgcf#bene speaks#so anon will you send me a FXMQ hc back?? 👀 i know others have given that pair more thought than i have#though it does all make me wonder how mu qing (and feng xin) would feel about ruoye after learning about its origins#more fond or more resentful?#or guiltily realise that its been too long and they don't feel anything at all about it but wonder#if they should - if they would if they were better people#this is an irreverent goofy little idea off the top of my head but i dunno... i haven't written much with these guys yet#but i have thoughts#their entire dynamic with xie lian#the way they are so wholly in need of each other but also so intensely distanced from each other is... *chefs kiss*#none of them are REALLY friends by the end of the main series#not really#were they ever friends? proper friends? hard to say since we only have xl's pov and his pov is really biased especially in regard#to his past behaviour - he judges himself quite harshly#were they friends? did was the hierarchy between them mean that they never really COULD cross that divide?#i like to think they were and they did but still. 800 years is a long time#feng xin and mu qing have SUCH a horrifically and deliciously complicated relationship#there's so many old resentments between them + inherent ties that can't quite break + jun wu's fucking meddling#(and my GOD jun wu's meddling in that trio... would love to pick at that more... that would be a great fic#one that parallels fx/mq(/xl) and yy/qyz... give me a hurt/comfort fic that builds on that god#i am fascinated by what a renewed friendship could look like between them after 800 years now that they're all on somewhat equal footing#we got a great taste of mu qing wanting to move past old grudges and really pursue that which healed me after the wwx&jc ending in mdzs#but they all have so much baggage to shed and things to talk about... man it'd be intense#so yeah. this is a long tag ramble to say i definitely HAVE SOME FUCKING THOUGHTS about the mess that is the xianle trio (quartet)#anyway thanks for asking anon that was fun to ramble about
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eu-nicola · 8 days ago
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best secret
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summary: while the Pogues are searching for the gold, you're left behind, trapped with your abusive father. when Rafe discovers what's going on, he steps in to save you. when the Pogues return and discover your relationship with Rafe, tensions boil over
warnings: violence, confrontation
word counter: 4384
author's note: english is not my first language
this is a request from @tracymbcm
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The lights of Tannyhill shone brightly in the distance, like a beacon illuminating everything perfectly.
You were in the backyard of Tannyhill, sitting on a stone table that probably cost more than your entire house. The night was warm, but you still felt a slight chill running through your skin. It could be from the air or from the presence of Rafe Cameron, leaning against a column, looking at you with that smile that made your chest tighten in ways you didn’t want to admit.
“If JJ knew about this, he would kill me.” Your voice broke the silence, a mix of nerves and sincerity in your words.
Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smile widening, but his eyes never left yours.
“If JJ knew about this, he would have been dead for months.” His tone was light, as if he said it in jest, but you knew that look. He wasn’t joking.
You should have laughed, maybe even responded with a scathing comment, but the truth was that the idea of ​​JJ finding out what you were doing terrified you. How could you explain to him that after years of swearing that you hated Rafe Cameron as much as he did, you had ended up here, seeing him in secret?
“Why are you doing this, Rafe?” you asked, abruptly changing the subject. You had thought about that question many times, but you had never dared say it out loud.
Rafe stopped smiling, slowly pushing himself off the column as he made his way towards you. Each step he took seemed to charge the air around you. When he reached your side, he leaned in slightly, just enough for his intense, direct blue eyes to catch yours.
“Because with you I don’t have to pretend.”
The words hit something deep inside you, leaving a crack in your carefully constructed defenses. You looked at him, searching for any trace of lying or manipulation, but all you found was honesty, raw and unvarnished.
“That doesn’t make it any less complicated.” You tried to make your voice sound firm, but there was a slight tremor that betrayed everything.
He tilted his head, his expression softening a little.
“And that’s why you’re still here? Despite everything.”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because the truth was, no matter how hard you tried to get away, you always ended up coming back. Something about Rafe dragged you along, like a current you couldn’t avoid.
He moved closer, his hand finding your waist with an ease that made you catch your breath.
“Look at me.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but charged with intensity.
You obeyed, even though every part of you screamed not to. His eyes seemed to pierce through you, seeing parts of you no one else had noticed.
“Do you know what happens to me when you’re not around?” he asked, his tone so serious that you felt a lump forming in your throat. “It’s like everything is… empty again. You make it all make sense.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly the space between you felt nonexistent.
“Rafe…” you started, but he cut you off, shaking his head as his forehead brushed yours.
“Don’t say you don’t feel it too.”
And you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because you did. You had felt it from the first moment his lips touched yours weeks ago, from the instant he looked at you as if you were more than just a Pogue.
This time, you were the one who closed the distance. The kiss started slow, as if you were both afraid of breaking something fragile, but soon it became more urgent, more desperate. Your hands found his neck as he pulled you closer, as if he feared you might disappear at any moment.
In that instant, everything disappeared: the Pogues, JJ, the Kooks, the consequences you knew would fall upon you. Nothing else mattered. Just Rafe and you.
When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. Rafe leaned against your forehead, his hands still firm on your waist.
“Regretful?” he asked with that lopsided smile that always disarmed you.
“Not yet.” Your voice was more confident than you expected, though deep down you knew that answer could change.
Rafe let out a soft laugh, running a finger through a loose strand of your hair.
“You’re braver than you think, Pogue.”
“And you’re more of an idiot than you let on.”
Rafe was still so close that you could feel the heat of his body as he pulled away slightly, his fingers still absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair. His smile grew softer, less teasing, and for a moment it seemed like there was something else on his mind.
“I have an idea,” he said suddenly, his voice low, as if he was afraid to break the moment.
“What kind of idea?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Rafe stepped back, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a mix of expectation and excitement.
Rafe stepped back, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a mix of anticipation and excitement.
“Tomorrow. You and me. A real date.”
That took you by surprise. Even though you’d been seeing each other on the sly for weeks, the thought of something as formal as a date hadn’t crossed your mind. Was it even possible? Your lips curved into a small smile.
“And how do you propose we do that without JJ or the guys deciding to kill you?”
Rafe shrugged, his expression confident as ever.
“You’re running away. You’ve done it before.”
“Rafe…” you started, even though you already knew you’d end up agreeing.
“Trust me. It’ll be perfect.” His eyes were shining, as if he was already imagining what it would be like. He took another step towards you and placed his hands on your hips, leaning in just enough so that his lips were just a few inches from yours. “Just you and me. No one else.”
You sighed, as if you were considering your options, but in reality your decision was made from the moment you looked into his eyes.
“Okay,” you finally relented, your voice laced with a mix of excitement and resignation.
Rafe’s smile widened.
“Meet me at Figure Eight Harbor, just before sunset. Bring something comfortable.”
“Any other directions, Mr. Cameron?” you asked, arching an eyebrow in a sarcastic tone.
Rafe leaned in and gave you a quick kiss, barely a brush, before pulling away.
“Just don’t be late.”
You watched him walk away toward the house, his steps confident and relaxed. When he turned around for the last time, he gave you a look and a smile that made your stomach turn.
That night, as you made your way back to your house, you couldn’t help but imagine what the date would be like. With Rafe, nothing was ever easy, but there was something about the way he looked at you, how he seemed to want to show you a different world, that made it worth the risk.
The next morning the morning sun streamed through the windows of your room, bathing the walls in a warmth that would normally have comforted you. But this time, you were too excited to pay attention to the small details. Today was the day. A date with Rafe Cameron.
You had woken up early, your heart racing and a smile that seemed impossible to erase. The pogues were away, completely absorbed in their quest for gold. With them gone, sneaking off to meet up with Rafe seemed easier than ever. Without JJ hovering like a hawk and Sarah suspecting a thing, you could finally relax and enjoy some alone time with him without the constant fear of being discovered.
You spent the day getting everything ready. You picked out comfortable clothes, like Rafe had suggested, but also something you knew he would appreciate: a light, simple dress that fell softly over your legs and sandals that would allow you to move around without any problems. You had tied your hair up in a carefree way, leaving a few strands loose to frame your face. You didn’t want to look overdressed, but you also couldn’t help but want to impress him. 
By the time it was time to leave, the plan seemed perfect. You just had to avoid your father, something you usually managed with ease when he was deep in his own problems. With the guys gone and his attention divided between the television and the empty beers piling up on the table, there was no reason for this time to be any different. 
Or so you thought. 
As you walked down the stairs, holding a small bag in your hand, Luke’s raspy voice echoed from the living room. 
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” “I’m just going for a walk,” he asked, his bloodshot eyes fixed on you.
You froze on the spot, your fingers clenching your bag tightly. You knew you couldn’t tell him the truth, but you hadn’t prepared an excuse either.
“I’m just going for a walk,” you said, trying to sound casual as you avoided his gaze.
Luke stood up from the couch with a jerk, his body swaying slightly, and you realized immediately that he was drunk. Again.
“Going for a walk?” he repeated, his tone full of mockery. “You’re not as smart as you think, kid. Do you really think you can get away without me knowing?”
Your heart began to beat faster. You tried to stay calm, but you knew how these things ended.
“It’s no big deal, Dad. I’m just going for a walk, that’s all.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” His voice rose a pitch, and the thud of a bottle falling to the floor made you take a step back. His eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down. “Why are you all dressed up? Huh? Who are you going to see?”
“No one,” you lied quickly, but your voice shook, and that only seemed to make him angrier.
Luke took a step towards you, and the air in the room became heavy, suffocating.
“You’ve always been a liar, just like your mother.” His words were venom, and the contempt in his voice made you clench your fists at your sides. “What? You think you can just walk away and leave me here like I don’t exist?”
Fear began to creep its way into your chest, but you didn’t let it show on your face. You had learned to hide it well, to survive moments like this.
“I’m not leaving anyone, Dad. I just want to get out for a bit.”
“DON’T MOVE!” he suddenly shouted, slamming the table so hard that the noise echoed throughout the house.
Your body tensed, your feet rooted to the ground. You stared at the door for a moment, calculating if you could escape, but you knew he would reach you before you could even turn the knob.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled as he approached, his steps firm and heavy. “Always doing whatever you want, always thinking you’re better than me.”
Every word out of his mouth was like a blow, but the real blows began soon after. He threw a glass against the wall, just inches from where you stood, and the sound of glass breaking made you instinctively step back.
“Dad, stop.” Your voice was low, but firm, even though inside you were shaking.
“STOP?” He laughed bitterly. “Don’t tell me what to do. You’re nobody to give me orders!”
You felt a lump in your throat, helplessness mixing with the pain of knowing there was no way to reason with him in this state. All you wanted was to get out of that house, get to the port, and be with Rafe, away from all of this. But with every passing second, it seemed more impossible.
Finally, you took advantage of a moment when he was distracted looking for another bottle to try and move towards the door. But when Luke noticed, his face twisted into a mix of fury and contempt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled as he blocked your way.
You were trapped. And as time continued to tick, you felt the chance to see Rafe slip through your fingers.
Away from you, as time passed, and there was no sign of you. Rafe first thought maybe you were late, but as the sun began to set completely, worry began to settle in his chest.
“Where are you?” he murmured, looking at his phone. He had texted twenty minutes ago, but you hadn’t responded. You hadn’t read the text either. 
Rafe knew something was wrong. Even though your relationship was a secret, you had never missed a date without notice, and the thought of something stopping you made him more uneasy than he was willing to admit. His jaw tightened as he climbed into his truck. No matter what the reason was, he was going to find you. 
He drove straight to your house, or as he silently called it, “Pougeland.” The Maybank home wasn’t in the best condition, and Rafe hated every second you spent there, especially because of Luke. He had heard enough about the man to know he wasn’t someone to be trusted, and the thought of you being alone with him infuriated him. 
As he approached the entrance, the sound of shouting from inside the house made his heart skip a beat. He didn’t need to confirm who they were; He recognized your voice, full of fear, and Luke's, in an angry and aggressive tone. He quickened his pace towards the door, and just as he was about to enter, he heard the sound of something breaking.
“Dad, stop!” Your voice came through clearly, desperate and scared.
That was enough for Rafe to act. He pushed the door open, the frame creaking from the force, and what he saw filled him with anger. Luke was on top of you, holding your arm as you tried to free yourself. Your face was marked, with the trace of a recent blow, and your eyes reflected both pain and terror.
“Let go of my girlfriend right now, motherfucker!” Rafe roared as he launched himself at Luke without a second thought.
Rafe’s presence startled Luke enough for him to loosen his grip for a moment, and you managed to stagger back to the side. Rafe didn’t give you time to react. He landed a punch straight to the jaw that sent him tumbling backwards, but Luke quickly recovered, attempting to strike back. 
“What the hell are you doing here, brat? It’s none of your business!” Luke shouted, furious as he tried to grab Rafe. 
“It is when you’re hurting her!” Rafe shoved him hard against the wall, his rage igniting like an uncontrollable fire. 
The two men grappled, but Rafe had the upper hand. Though Luke tried to punch him, he was too drunk to be effective. Rafe eventually tackled him to the ground, pinning him down with one knee as he gasped for air. 
“If you touch her again, I’ll kill you,” Rafe snapped in a cold, deadly voice. 
Luke let out a bitter laugh, but didn’t get a chance to respond. Rafe dropped him on the ground, unconscious from one last blow, and turned to you.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice much softer now, though his eyes still glittered with fury.
You were shaking, leaning against the wall, tears rolling down your cheeks. You nodded weakly, but Rafe saw clearly that you weren’t okay. Without another word, he picked you up, ignoring your weak protests, and carried you to his truck.
“Rafe, you don’t have to do this…” you murmured, but your voice cracked.
“Yes, I do have to,” he replied, his jaw set as he carefully placed you in the passenger seat.
He drove straight to the hospital, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. When they arrived, Rafe insisted that you be checked out, and while the doctors made sure you had no serious injuries, Sheriff Shoupe arrived to take a report.
At first, you were reluctant to speak, but Rafe stayed by your side, holding your hand as you recounted what had happened. It was difficult, but every time you hesitated, Rafe looked at you with that mix of determination and tenderness that made you feel stronger.
Finally, Shoupe nodded, closing his notebook.
“We’ll do whatever it takes to keep Luke from bothering you again. I’ll send a team to arrest him right now.”
Rafe let out a sigh of relief, though he still seemed tense. He helped you out of the hospital, and when you finally climbed back into his truck, the silence between you was charged but comforting.
“Thanks, Rafe,” you murmured, barely audibly.
He turned his head toward you, his expression softening for the first time all night.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”
The days following the incident at your house were a whirlwind. After Rafe’s intervention, you’d spent more time with him than ever before. Though you’d tried to reach out to the guys, you knew they were too busy with their obsession with gold to really pay attention. On the one hand, you felt guilty for keeping secrets from them, but on the other, it hurt that they weren’t there when you needed them most.
Rafe, on the other hand, wouldn’t leave your side. After what had happened with Luke, he’d insisted that you stay at one of the Cameron properties, a place where he knew you’d be safe. Though it was strange to depend on him, you also felt more protected than ever.
When the Pogues finally returned, they were quick to notice your absence. JJ was the first to raise his voice.
“Where’s my sister?” “He asked, his tone tense as he walked down the dock.
Sarah, who had spent the last few weeks feeling guilty for leaving you behind, tried to calm him down.
“Maybe she’s at home, JJ. We can’t assume the worst.”
“Oh no? What if something happened to her while we were away looking for useless treasure?” he snapped, pointing at her.
“Easy there, buddy,” John B chimed in. “Let’s go find her and see what’s going on.”
Without wasting any more time, the Pogues hopped in the Twinkie and headed straight to your house. But when they arrived, they found the front door taped shut and the place completely empty. The sight stunned them.
“What the hell happened here?” Kiara muttered, crossing her arms as she looked at the mess.
JJ, furious, started pounding on the door with his fist.
“This doesn’t make sense!”
Sarah was the first to notice that something was out of place. From her perspective, something about the mess and the police tapes seemed familiar.
“I think this has to do with Luke,” she said quietly, looking around.
“My father?” JJ turned to her. “If that bastard did anything to him, I’ll kill him with my own hands!”
John B tried to calm him down, but it was clear that everyone was just as worried. They didn’t know where you were, and uncertainty was eating away at them.
Hours later, it was Sarah who finally found you. You were with Rafe, on a remote beach, leaning against his chest as he held you protectively. The rest of the guys arrived shortly after, stopping dead in their tracks at the sight.
“What…?” JJ was the first to react, his shocked expression giving way to uncontrollable fury. “What the hell are you doing with him?”
You pulled away from Rafe quickly, but he stayed by your side, his gaze fixed on JJ with a mix of defiance and warning.
“JJ, I can explain,” you said, but your voice was shaking.
“Explain it?” Kiara interjected, her face a mix of disbelief and disappointment. “We’re looking for you everywhere and you just happen to be here, cuddling with him!”
“How could you betray us like that?” JJ snapped, taking a step towards you. “He’s a fucking bully, a psychopath!”
“Stop it!” Rafe raised his voice, and everyone glared at him with hatred. His jaw was set, his eyes shining with suppressed fury. “While you guys were too busy on your fucking treasure hunt, I was here saving your sister from your fucking father!”
The silence that followed was deafening. The Pogues stared at him as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing.
“What?” JJ asked, his tone lower, but still filled with distrust.
“Luke,” you finally said, your voice cracking as you tried to find the words. Luke… he attacked me.
“If I hadn’t gotten there in time,” Rafe continued, his voice sharp. “If I hadn’t been there, your father would have killed her.”
JJ’s expression changed drastically. It went from anger to fear, and then to pain as he processed what Rafe had just said.
“That can’t be true,” he muttered.
“It’s true, JJ,” you said, your voice barely audible. “Rafe saved me.”
The rest of the Pogues fell silent, processing the truth. Kiara looked down, while John B placed a hand on JJ’s shoulder. Sarah, who already suspected as much, simply nodded regretfully.
Rafe looked at you for a moment before turning his attention back to them.
“I don’t care what they think of me,” he said firmly. “But I’m not going to apologize for protecting her.”
The air between you was thick with tension, but this time, it wasn’t hatred that filled the silence. The Pogues didn’t say anything else, but the glances they exchanged confirmed that, as much as they hated to admit it, Rafe was right.
In the days that followed, although no one said anything directly, you could feel their gazes shifting away whenever Rafe accompanied you or when they mentioned something that might have to do with you. There were no more accusations or confrontations, but there was no open acceptance either. It was as if they had decided to ignore the subject entirely, something you were grateful for even though it hurt a little.
Rafe, for his part, remained unwavering. Despite the judgment he knew he was receiving, he never let it push him away from you. If anything, he seemed more determined than ever to prove to you that you could fully trust him.
One afternoon, as you sat on the porch of the house where you were now staying, Rafe drove up in his truck. He got out with a paper bag in his hand and that crooked smile you knew all too well.
“What do you have there?” “You asked, putting aside the book you had been pretending to read.
“Surprise,” he replied, walking over to you with an air of mystery.
Rafe sat down next to you and pulled out two wrapped burgers and a box of fries from the bag.
“I thought you might want something other than canned food,” he joked as he handed you one of the burgers.
You couldn’t help but laugh. It was a small gesture, but after everything that had happened, it meant a lot.
“You’re a hero,” you said with a smile before taking a bite of the burger.
You spent the rest of the afternoon talking about anything but the Pogues or Luke. Rafe seemed determined to keep you away from any topic that might make you uncomfortable, and you appreciated that more than you could put into words.
A few days later, as you walked with Rafe along the beach, you unexpectedly ran into Sarah. She was alone, sitting on the sand with her gaze lost in the horizon. Seeing you, she raised her hand in a shy greeting.
“Hey,” he said, his tone surprisingly soft.
Rafe braced himself beside you, clearly prepared for an argument, but Sarah didn’t seem interested in fighting.
“I just wanted to tell you that…” he paused, looking first at you and then at his brother. “Thank you. For being there for her.”
Rafe looked taken aback for a moment, but then nodded.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied in a neutral tone.
Sarah looked at you, and for the first time in days, you thought there was some warmth in her eyes.
“We… the guys and I… shouldn’t have judged you. It’s just that…” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “We didn’t expect something like this to be happening while we were gone.”
“I understand,” you said, though there was still a small wound in your chest from how you had been treated at first.
“But if you’re happy with him… then it’s okay,” Sarah continued, looking at Rafe with a mix of wariness and resignation. “Just… take care of her, okay?”
Rafe smirked. “I plan to do that.”
After that encounter, things began to change. The Pogues didn’t mention your relationship with Rafe anymore, and while not everyone was completely comfortable with the situation, they realized it wasn’t something they could control.
JJ was still the most distant, though he avoided any sarcastic comments when you were with Rafe. John B and Kiara seemed more neutral, and Sarah, though torn, slowly began to accept that Rafe was an important part of your life now.
Even though you knew there were still tensions with the Pogues and that life on the Outer Banks would always be complicated, at that moment, you felt like everything was where it needed to be. With Rafe by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.
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vorfreudevortex · 2 months ago
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apologies
✧.* gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, yuji, megumi, noritoshi, ino, inumaki, yuta
notes: a somewhat happier resolution and part two of arguments! thank you for reading <3
✧.* check out the fun facts after the attachments for background info about their fights and a look inside my brain hehe!
my masterlist
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© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.
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satoru cried in his office when he realized that he blamed you for something that wasn't your fault.
suguru's coworker sat on his lap as part of a weird inside joke everyone else at the school has between the two. he has no idea why he was so defensive to you and he truly wasn't cheating. he was so angry that you would believe he cheated that he started calling you out for the first thing he could think of, wearing revealing tops in public. satoru had to call you 8 times before you picked up and let him explain it to you. he's forcing her to transfer to kyoto so she never has the chance to hurt your relationship again (remember that suguru never left and became a teacher alongside satoru in my aus). the pictures sent to the reader leave out how suguru uncomfortably asked her to get off of him shortly after, since they were around other sorcerers and teachers (as politely as he could).
kento came home with so many flowers for you and he still feels awful.
toji's dumbass freaked tf out when you took home your clothes from his place. he was out drinking and gambling and didn't want to tell you. your relationship is rocky for a while but he hasn't gambled since.
choso is still learning communication skills and cried when he realized that he was being mean to you over nothing.
sukuna is a terrible texter and does NOT communicate his feelings well. this is him being vulnerable af with you because he really does love you and has no idea why he was grabbing another girl's ass at the bar. he tried to chase you down after you threw a drink on him, slapped and yelled at him, and ran out.
yuji completely panicked when a curse attacked him out of nowhere when he was out with you. you can't see them and you were so confused and scared that you couldn't move. he just cares about you so much and couldn't stand the fact that you could've died. he made megumi listen to him cry about how mean he was to you for like 3 straight hours.
megumi has no idea how to deal with his emotions and has never been in a relationship before so he literally thought you guys were broken up LMAO. he's trying really hard for you.
in my au toge can speak, just not direct commands, so he still rarely talks unless necessary. i thought it would be nice to have the reader understand that all of his communication skills are terrible and help him work on them.
noritoshi has a terrible outlook on love and relationships from his upbringing so it took him a minute to understand how awful his words were. he truly does love you and wants to marry you. he lowkey constantly thinks about cutting off the kamo clan so they can't control his life anymore.
ino literally cried to nanami after your argument. he's so used to putting jujutsu responsibilities before his own life and feelings, and struggles with having to take care of something that can't be fixed with his power or strength. nanami also called you and apologized for meddling in your relationship, he realized it was inappropriate but he just really cares about you and ino and wants the best for both of you.
yuta literally didn't even realize how insane and controlling he was being until you called him out. after he took you home, he latched onto you with his head crammed in your lap because he was so upset thinking that you might leave him. he swears to himself that he will kill himself before he treats you like that again, and he never does it again.
i don't like when big argument smaus end with "no biggie i forgive you! <3" so i tried to make sure that the reader either made sure they know they fucked up big time, apologized and talked to them face-to-face, they'd never do it again, or you wouldn't forgive them so easily, etc.
sorry this was so long! but i love knowing the background info and author's thoughts for smaus since they can be kind of limiting in content! i think i'll add background info and fun facts after all my future smaus for those who are interested. as always thank you so much for reading ♡
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kissitbttr · 1 year ago
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this is miguel o’hara being a dick
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader
-
miguel knows he’s fucked.
he has been neglecting you, putting his work above your needs and ditched on dates he can’t count with his fingers. at first you were okay, given that you’re dating such a busy man like him, you understand the consequences.
but you’ve had enough. there were nights where you cooked dinner, only to be left untouched by him or where you softly cried yourself in the middle of the night because he was still out. the only time he comes home is when you’re already asleep, then he left to the HQ in the morning before you’ve gotten the chance to wake up.
you confronted him about this. paid a visit to his office before going to work. Jess and Lyla had warned you to not disturb him but you managed to make them back off with a single frightening look.
yes. they are scared of you. a lot of them are. they do not want to test you at all.
the moment you stepped into his office, he didn’t even bother to look. eyes were just too focused on his work that he assumed Jess was the one who walked in.
“oh, you’re fucking your co-worker now?” your tone laced with sarcasm and anger with arms crossed over your chest,
hearing the familiar voice, he had never whipped his head so fast. “y/n? what are you doing here?”
“well” you start, heels clicking against the floor as you step towards him. “since my boyfriend has been MIA for almost a week i figured i should stopped by.”
his head shook, turning his focus back to what he thought mattered most. “not right now, mi amor. I’m working.”
“i can see that, dumbass” you respond in a cold tone. frowning as to why he couldn’t take one second off from that god damn screen. “you and me are going to get breakfast together. now. before i go to work.”
“i told you I can’t. I’m busy” he replies, brushing you off with his hand. “next time.”
“i’m a busy woman too!” your voice shakes, wanting so bad to scream at him and throw that tiny desk at his head. “but I always want to make time for you, Miguel!”
no response. he muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear him.
un-fucking-believable
“you’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?” tone laced with venom as you spit the words. clenching your fists by your side as you struggle to hold back the tears. “i feel like this relationship is one sided, the only person that is truly making an effort is me. you don’t—“
Miguel couldn’t take it anymore. he threw a desk and it went flying, thankfully it didn’t hit you. though your eyes went wide in shock, a loud gasp left your lips as you covered your mouth with your hands.
“you’re right! I don’t! I don’t care about some silly little fucking breakfast when the universe depends on me!” he pointed at himself as his irises turned red when he looked at you. his breathing went heavy and he still wasn’t aware how scared you were at him at that point.
“do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to keep all this shit together?! how many people will die if i don’t do what i gotta do! I don’t always like it, y/n but i have to do it! and here you are trying to play house with me it’s fucking pathetic!” he scoffed, putting his hands on hips.
oh he did not realize how much his words hurt.
the room was filled with silence. you stared at him in disbelief but remained a stoic expression. you were taught better than to be weak before any men. Miguel was no exception. your mother would be disappointed if you let a man win.
“wow” you breathed, nodding. “that was a good speech actually, the longest one I’ve ever heard you talking” you tried to sound sarcastic but how you felt and how you sounded failed you.
Miguel was quick to notice this and his features quickly soften. he reached out quickly to hold you.
“cariño i—“
“I’m returning back to my apartment by five. do not fucking look for me” it was final. the way you said it, how your eyes remained empty as you spoke to him. Miguel knew better than to test you,
but he just did and now he’s paying the price,
his heart broke when he heard you said that. you were so tired of him and you just wanted him back. you want your man back but he couldn’t see how that mattered to you.
“baby, please—“
you held your hand as you turned around. “don’t you even think about sending Jess or Miles my way.”
with that you walked out of his office without uttering another word. leaving him speechless and heartbroken. he knew better than to follow you out, it would just make things worse. he was just going to let you cool off.
he didn’t know how long it was gonna take.
it has been almost a month that you two have been living separately. and he’s losing his mind. he can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can barely walk out of the house without seeing all the things that remind him of you. the team even sensed something is wrong because he has been more short tempered than before and it almost made the rest of spider society terrified of talking to him.
he’s gotten more violent, that’s for sure. every enemy he encountered, he would leave them bleed with their faces unrecognizable. it was his way of taking his stress out. not exactly healthy but it’ll do for now.
but he thinks that this has gotten too far. he misses you terribly, your scent, your laugh, your voice, your body, and mostly… your pussy
God, the amount of times he sniffed your panties while he jacked off as the image of you clouded his mind was simply not enough.
and now here he stands before your apartment door. dressed nicely in a white buttoned up shirt with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black pants. his ring cladded fingers nervously grip around the boquete as the other hand shoved into his pocket.
Miguel had never been this nervous before. toeing his shoes and tapping his toes against the floor rapidly. it’s probably already been fifteen minutes that he’s standing like that staring at your door. thinking far too carefully what he wants to say.
he decides it’s now or never as he raises his fist and knock softly against the wooden door, hoping that you’re home.
“coming!” he hears your voice, his stomach somersaults hearing that after what it felt like a thousand year. “i am so hungry, why are you delivery guys always taking so—“
soon as you open the door, you freeze. definitely not the takeout delivery boy and instead it’s the one person you’ve been avoiding for God knows how long.
Miguel’s mouth hangs open slightly as he slowly taking in the sight of the gorgeous woman before him. you put on your favorite lime green night gown that stops just above your knees with a white silky robe, your hair fall down gracefully. natural curls framing your face. eyes glinting under the light, he almost falls to his knees and thank the Lord for your existence.
beauty doesn’t even begin to describe how you look tonight.
Miguel realizes how he probably looks like an idiot. clearing his throat to regain his composure as he smiles awkwardly at you. “Hi.”
you stare at him as your features then showcase a displeased expression. “what are you doing here?”
you’re leaning your body against the doorframe, arms crossed in annoyance. eyes flickering from his face to the flowers he’s holding and back up to his eyes. as much as you hate to see him, you can’t help that little feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you see the flowers he’s holding.
tulips. your favorite
he takes a one step closer to your frame, breathing out a sigh as he looks down at you. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”
that earns a scoff from you, looking away. “good start.”
“i was a horrible boyfriend.” he admits, gulping as he sees how sadness and exhaustion taking over your face just like that. “you don’t deserve that. what i said to you that day… none of it was true. you were not… pathetic, nor were the idea of having breakfast together… I appreciate every single thing we’ve done together, baby. believe me, por favor…”
a hard stare is the only thing he gets from you. the way your lips form into an angry pout and how your eyes seem to get tired and bored from his confession.
you’re a difficult person to please. he knows that.
“i know that being stress is no excuse of what I’ve done… I should’ve—fuck I should’ve done better. a month without you was like hell, mi corazon. ay, me sentí como si estuviera perdiendo la cabeza.” he sighs in frustration, head shaking as he recalls many sleepless nights. “i love you so so much. i do not want to go through that again … i know that it’s going to take forever to get your trust back and everything, but i swear on my mother’s grave that i—“
“stop talking”
he shuts his mouth after that. eyes looking up to you when he realizes you’re talking to him after a prolonged silence that’s taking over.
seeing how broken he looks almost feels like your heart got plucked. as mean as you are or as much as you wanted to look like you don’t care, you can’t when it comes to Miguel. you love this man far too much and despite his cold cold persona, that’s a huge sweetheart underneath.
“you hurt me, Miguel.” eyes casting down the floor as you try to keep your voice low. “you threw a desk to my direction…”
he shakes his head at that, resisting the urge to cradle your cheek. “lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean—“
“yes i know, i heard you.” you sigh, eyes closed momentarily. “you scared me”
Miguel feels his heart breaks when he hears how your voice breaks. he carefully lifts his hand to softly palm your cheek, thumb grazing against the skin. he exhales a soft sigh when you aren’t pushing him off.
“I didn’t mean to do that to you, my love. fuck, I’ve hurt you. i will never forgive myself for that. i was supposed to be the one who protect you and i was being a huge asshole.”
“a cute one though” you pout at him,
he chuckles at that, feeling the tension between you two are finally cutting down. “you’re too sweet, baby… after all i had done to you”
“nothing compared to how you treated me for the past two and a half years.” you smile sweetly at him, hand wrapping around his wrist. feeling at home once he holds you in his palm. “still a good man.”
he shakes his head in disagreement. “no, no that doesn’t excuse it… i was in the wrong.”
you hum in response, looking at the pretty flowers still in his hand. “are those for me?”
he nods with a smile, “you’re my only woman, no?”
you bite the inside of your cheek as you smile, taking it from his grasp as you sniff the pretty petals. “i love them. thank you.”
he once again goes quiet, taking another step closer. eyes looking down at your glossy lips and he can’t take it anymore. he doesn’t care if he’s stepping boundaries here. “i miss you, cariño. can i show you just how much?”
his offer sends shiver down your spine, making it impossible for you to stand still. Miguel always knows your sweet spot, how to make your knees feel wobbly without having him to touch you.
you do miss him touching you,
“i have a ballet class to teach tomorrow, papi. Saturday morning class, you remember ?” a pout formed on your lips, yet you still allow him to pull you close to him as he closes the door behind. “plus don’t you have work too? i bet Jess needs you.”
Migue nearly growls at you calling him ‘papi’. his jeans growing tight as you look up to him with doe eyes that you know he loves. though sometimes, you don’t understand the effect you have on him.
“that can wait… you’re more important to me than anything” he whispers, giving your open hand a kiss. large palm coming down to grip your waist, giving it a light squeeze. “do you want me too?”
you respond with a slow nod, biting back a smile as you interlock your hand with his pulling him inside. his smirk grows wider as he leans over to capture your mouth in his,
“let me fuck you real good then we can come home, eh mi vida?” he promises against your lips, slipping your soft silky robe off of you before picking you up in bridal style causing to shriek and giggle,
“i wanna hear you scream my name.”
-
part 2?
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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months ago
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Yandere Baki Head Canons:
My Kind Of Love
Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Fem Reader
TW: arranged marriage/ forced relationship, yandere, stalking, etc
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You were the adopted daughter of another yakuza family, one that was engaged to Hanayama Kaoru since birth. Your fate long decided for you…
Hanayama wasn’t a bad person per se, for the son of a yakuza family. The only issue was that he hardly spoke. Nope. Hanayama often stared at you while you did all of the talking… he was a silent yet intimidating presence. Especially as the two of you grew older.
As a child, he’d often sit beside you. You used to think he was shy, so you’d talk with him in a soft tone. You were gregarious compared to his taciturn self. Yet you never made him feel unwelcome so he would always turn up for every ‘play date’ your parents set up. It made you think he tolerated you… how wrong you were.
When he grew old enough to get his back tattoo, he had spoken to you briefly. “I have something important to do, but I will be back.” You had thought that was odd, but you smiled at your fiancé. “Okay, Hanayama. I’ll be waiting for you then so be safe.” You thought it was kind of cute how his ears turned pink… who knew he could blush.
When you saw him again, you were shocked by all of the scars that littered his body, yet you didn’t nag him. No, you simply held him and smiled at him. “Thank you for keeping your word.” You failed to notice how his heart hammered in his chest when your fingers lightly traced over the scabs on his face. “Those will be some pretty gnarly scars, but they’ll make you look cool.” You had no idea what you did to this man…
When his mother’s health began to deteriorate, he had you at his side. He was such a large teenager, yet he looked so small when he’d fold himself up into your lap. You often ran your fingers through his dark locks and softly reassured him. He still hardly spoke, but you finally caught him with a small smile on his face.
When his mother passed, he was prone to bursts of anger yet he never showed that side of himself to you. No. You were precious to him… more precious than anything in the world. And you deserved to be protected and pampered. He began to seek advice from Kizaki about romance after that.
Now that the two of you were in your twenties, he’d often pull you into his lap. He still hardly spoke but he would make you be near him in anyway possible if the two of you were alone. It was quite odd.
Sometimes you’d swear you would spot his men trailing behind you if you were out and about, yet they were gone when you’d turn around. There was no way your stoic fiancé was stalking you… right?
He’d gift you bouquets of roses and invite you out to dinner with outfits he’d pick out. You would receive handwritten notes of love that borderlines obsession. There was no way Hanayama wrote those, you didn’t even know if he actually liked you. Hanayama hardly spoke after all…
His stabs at romance were interesting to say the least. Hanayama’s actions were loud. His gifts were extravagant and borderline gaudy, yet you didn’t mind. You were engaged after all. And that wedding date was rabidly approaching…
The wedding was grand, large, and heavily guarded. And Hanayama’s hand tightly gripped yours in an inescapable hold. It was nerve wracking to say the least.
And the minute it was time for that honeymoon, you were rushed off quickly. Hanayama practically dragged you to the suite, his breathing ragged, his scarred face flushed, and his black hair a bit disheveled. Was he okay? You’ve never seen him so expressive.
It wasn’t until he had you all alone that he began to rip at his clothes like a madman. You barely had the first button undone before he was on you. His fundoshi the last garment on him. His lips eagerly pressed against the side of your neck.
“Hanayama? We really don’t have to-“ your voice was stuck in your throat when he pulled away to stare at you with his dark eyes.
“I’ve waited so many years to hold you like a man.” Hanayama muttered. “I’ve held back for so long and now you’re finally mine.”
You’re peppered with more impatient kisses while his thick fingers made quick work of your wedding dress. “I love you so much, my beautiful wife.”
How were you to know that your fiancé actually loved you this entire time? Not to mention, how sore his kind of love would leave you after tonight…
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months ago
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For My Husband
Requested Here!
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader (no specific characterization for Jason!)
Summary: Jason has had a lot on his mind, including your relationship. You call him your husband on a night out and suddenly everything makes sense.
Warnings: brief angst, fluff, too many boat analogies? and completely justified grand theft auto
Word Count: 1.5k+ words
Picture from Pinterest/WFA Webtoon (I love him)
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It burns like a searing blade carving deep into him, leaving a scar in its eternally marking wake. The ring in Jason’s pocket grows heavier, weighing on him, and burning him like the scars lining his skin. The same scars you kiss and don’t see as marks but as part of the man you love.
As Jason sits across the table across from you, he thinks about an hour ago when you invited him on a date. He argued at first, not ready to go out in public and be asked about Bruce or see something that reminds him of the time before you. But then you smiled and told him where you wanted to go, your favorite place just outside of town that seemed to attract more tourists or people stopping on their way to Blüdhaven or Metropolis, where Jason wasn’t likely to be recognized or hear someone murmur looks like the Wayne kid. So, he agreed, and now his thoughts drift back further.
Two weeks ago, Jason returned home from a mission with the Outlaws. It was hard on him; there were moments when he thought he lost everything, and the only thing that gave him the strength to fight was the image of coming home to you. Once he was home, he talked about what he could and let your comfort carry away the rest like a tide pulling his worries away to make room for you.
Jason Todd has never felt more like himself than he does in your arms and at peace in your words, your comfort. The last few days of being with you have allowed Jason to realize just how perfect you are, how perfect you are for him. And then he remembers how much he doesn’t deserve you, and the ring gets a little heavier like an anchor, making those tides pointless to do little more than rock his once steady ship.
“What are you getting?” you ask, drawing Jason back to the present.
He looks over the top of his menu, and your smile tugs at him. “The pasta looks good,” he answers. “Hey, since you asked me out does that mean you’re paying?”
You lean forward to whisper, “Which one of us has a card attached to Bruce’s bank account?”
Jason tips his head in defeat, not that he would have let you pay anyway. He’s a gentleman through and through, something you know well, and most of the reason you get the idea to order for him. When the waiter approaches, Jason gestures for you to order first, as always, and you smile at the waiter as you request your favorite meal and a side to share with Jason.
Then, you say, “And my husband will have the pasta.”
You look to him for confirmation, but Jason doesn’t reply. He repeats your words in his mind several times, wondering what you could have possibly said that he misheard as husband. When he decides that there are no other words close enough to 'husband' that fit this context, he looks to the waiter, who is smilingly knowingly with his pencil poised over the order pad.
“Did she say husband?” Jason asks him. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes, you lucky man,” the waiter answers. “Was there anything else I could get you?”
Jason shakes his head as you fight a laugh to say, “That’s all, thank you.”
Repeating your words and voice in his head, Jason can’t think about anything else. You watch him, torn between amusement and love, as he gets lost in his thoughts. Jason thinks of your soft gaze, the gentleness and genuine tone in your voice when you called him my husband, and the weight of the ring shifts. It’s not something holding him down, threatening to pull you down with him when you deserve anything but him, but a proposal that he needs to make. It is his anchor, but it’s anchoring him to you. Until he tells you that and asks you to be his wife, you won’t truly understand what you mean to Jason Todd or how you saved him from himself simply by loving him. So, Jason shakes himself out of his reverie and starts an easy conversation with you. But your voice in his mind continues to remind him of how much he means to you.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped before,” you offer. “Calling you husband.”
“I liked it,” Jason admits with a smile.
“Well, that’s good because I like you.”
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After splitting a dessert, Jason excuses himself to pay the bill and tip your waiter.
“Are you proposing?” the waiter asks as he passes Jason the receipt. “We get a lot of people who propose in the restaurant. There’s a moment of clarity right before it happens, between the nervous movements and the actual proposal, where you can see everything shift into place and make sense.”
“I’m in that moment?” Jason guesses.
“Have been since you recovered from being called her husband, I think.”
Jason nods and answers, “I am proposing tonight. Can’t wait any longer.”
“Congratulations.”
“She could say no.”
The waiter smiles as he steps back and prepares to tend to another table. “She won’t. She had the look too, the undeniable love and desire to be with you long after this date. So, congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Jason returns to your table and takes your hand, gentle and kind as he helps you up and walks side-by-side with you. You’ve seen him fight, seen his scars, and know the level of violence he has and can inflict, but there’s something different in how he touches you. How he handles you, not like you’re fragile but like you are precious and treasured. It’s one of many things that you love about Jason.
“We need to make one little stop, is that okay?” Jason asks as he opens the passenger door of a car he borrowed from Bruce’s garage.
“Of course. But if you want to take the scenic route, you can just say so.”
Jason bends forward to buckle your seatbelt for you, and when his face is inches from yours answers, “Then let’s take the scenic route.”
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Jason parks the car on a hill before he turns off the engine. You’re on Bruce’s property. You know that because Wayne Manor looms in the distance, a dark shape against the nighttime fog of Gotham. Yet you don’t understand why Jason brought you here, especially when you’re almost sure he didn’t get permission to borrow the car you arrived in.
The door beside you opens, and Jason lowers his hand to help you exit. Here, you can see more stars than anywhere else in Gotham, and your eyes find the sky as Jason’s gaze remains on you.
This hill was once an escape for him, one of the only places he could get far enough away from his family to breathe but be close enough to know where they were. When he returned from the Lazarus Pit and took up the mantle of Red Hood, he spent hours standing on the crest and watching Wayne Manor in the distance, as if it would grow closer or Bruce would throw open the door to welcome him home, broken pieces in tow.
“There’s so many stars,” you murmur. “I thought we’d lost them all to the smog.”
“Not all of them,” Jason answers softly, watching the small lights reflect in your eyes. “I’ve always liked it out here.”
You lower your chin away from the sky and turn to face Jason just as he kneels to be on one knee.
“I came out here a lot as a kid, even when I came back, it was one of the only places that I felt like I could belong. Since then, I’ve found that feeling in you. You’re not just who I think I belong with, though…”
You squeeze Jason’s hand gently and step closer to him, your joined hands against your hip.
“I don’t deserve you,” Jason admits. “You’re too good for me, more than I could ever earn or come close to being worthy of.”
You shake your head, but Jason smiles as he adds, “But you’re everything I want, need – crave – and so much more. The night that we met, I knew that you were special, I knew that I wanted to be your husband. I’d lost the ability to do anything good. I couldn’t even sleep without seeing everything I’d done or thought I would do; I couldn’t dream anymore. And then I found you, and you came to me like you knew there was something in me that I couldn’t see. You are my everything, but all I want to be is yours. Will you marry me?”
Wiping the tears falling down your face with your free hand, you answer, “Yes! Yes, Jason. I am yours.”
Jason stands and pulls you into his arms in one fluid movement. His arms are strong around your waist as he lifts you gently and spins you beneath the stars. You loop your arms over his shoulders and cling to him.
“Thank you,” Jason whispers against your shoulder.
After he sets you down and moves his hands to hold your waist, you spread your hand over his heart and ask, “For what?”
Jason smiles in the starlight and answers, “For being my wife.”
You slide your hands up and hold Jason’s jaw, leaning forward to kiss him as you murmur, “Oh, I could get used to hearing that.”
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catboyieejeno · 1 year ago
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sitting pretty : jaemin ꒰୨୧꒱
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cw: jaemin x inexperienced (?) reader, pwp, established relationship, fem! reader, jaemin has a teeny bit of a corruption kink, explicit smut, size kink, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, so many pet names, jaemin being so sweet wc: 2.6k
18+ minors do not interact!
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you’re sitting at the foot of the bed in only the littlest shirt, snugly fit on your breasts, and a pair of soft, pink cotton panties. your feet are tucked under your bum and you’re slightly bouncing in anticipation. you’re being so good, despite the burning need that blossoms between your legs, and you know being good gets you rewarded. you haven’t checked, but from the way the material sticks to your center, it’s safe to assume you’ve pooled your underwear with your arousal. 
jaemin, seemingly unphased, lies on his side facing you, head propped up straight on his hand so he can gawk at the way your nipples poke through your shirt. his eyes take in every bit of your skin, as they do every single time you’re on display for him, before his lips part slightly. 
“you’re so stunning,” he murmurs, bringing your hand to his mouth so that he can press a kiss to your knuckles. a slight pout forms on your lips and your shoulders slouch slightly. this doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who blinks up at you in concern. “what’s wrong, doll?” 
“why—” your eyes dart around as red spreads across your cheeks, “why won’t you… fuck me,” 
“huh?”
“i mean…” you sigh, “if i’m so stunning, why don’t you ever fuck me…is it because you don’t want to?” 
“oh, baby,” he coos, leaning up to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “you have no idea how bad i want to. i was just getting you ready for me,” he gives you a soft kiss, which you return effortlessly, “don’t wanna hurt my pretty baby,”
“i can take it!” you assure him eagerly, sitting up straighter, “i want to take it, wanna make you feel good,” 
he tuts as his dick jolts in his pants, your words riling him up more than you could begin to imagine; he doesn’t show it in his voice, though, which remains steady as he nods, “alright. let’s work up to it then, yeah?”
despite having made you come on his tongue and fingers a number of times before, he’s been adamant about not fucking you just yet. he’s been patient, caring, and gentle, in the bedroom and out of it, tending to your needs just how he knows you like it. truthfully, there’s nothing he wants more than to sink himself into the heaven that is your pussy, but he’s known from the first time he felt the grip of your walls around his fingers that his length simply would not fit in such a tight, little space. 
he’s since had to resort to a form of size-training, something he didn't think he would enjoy nearly as much as he does. he takes great pleasure in the process of prepping you, though, sometimes even coming in his pants just from the sight of you all dazed and high off your fourth orgasm. 
jaemin’s eyelids suddenly get oh so heavy, large hands trailing up your smooth thighs and finding solace on your hips when you crawl onto and settle down in his lap. your panties are pressed against your core, marking every curve of your folds. even if jaemin hadn’t seen your pretty pussy countless times before, he’s sure he could make out every detail just from the outline alone. 
there’s a light blush on your cheeks when you wrap your entire hand around his index finger, drawing the digit up to your mouth to suck on it. a lazy smile falls on jaemin’s lips as he watches you—decidedly, if his little angel wasn’t so soft and fragile, he would’ve spun the two of you around and fucked you into the mattress from this action alone. 
his focus is unfaltering as little mewls start leaving your puckered lips. your hips swivel, giving an experimental roll against his bulge, and you shudder at the feeling. 
he watches eagerly as the material brushes against your cunt. when you repeat the action, it’s with a certain precision, and then you do it again, and again. at first, he thinks you’ve found the angle or spot that best stimulates your clit, but then, his eyes leave the area where your bodies meet and he notices in your curious expression that you are in reality, watching him. you’re trying to tease him, get him off… and god, is it working. 
“jaemin…,” 
“i know, sweetheart. let me help you,” he scoots you down his thighs just enough to pull his length free from his boxers, “we’re gonna try something first, to get you all nice and wet for me,” 
“but i am wet for you,” 
“patience, baby. i promise you’re gonna like this. said you wanted to make me feel good, right?” you nod, “so, give me your hand,” your obedience earns you a low hum of approval, and he molds your palm over the head of his dick. then, he gently moves aside your panties with his free hand to reveal your glistening folds. he brushes his thumb against it to collect some of the slick, all the while guiding your hand up and down his length. through tightened teeth, he instructs you, “I want you to match my pace, okay?”  
“mhm,” 
he releases your hand to hold your hip once more as his thumb begins slow, dragging circles on your clit. Instantly, he sees you shiver at his actions, and you pump his head slowly to fulfill his earlier request.
he takes care to spread your folds, listening intently for the sticky sound of your wetness squelching against his digit.
you do just as he asks, pumping quicker when his thumb speeds up, and slowing down as best as you can when he does the same. It’s torturous, the constant change in pace—the push and pull that brings you close to coming, then drags you away. 
“such a good girl,” he praises, noticing your incessant pants. you’re writhing on his lap, grinding yourself into his hand in hopes of reaching your release. when he doesn’t make a move to go any faster, you take matters into your own hand, jacking him off. jaemin gasps, placing his hand over yours. 
“those weren’t the rules, baby,” 
“I don’t care,” you whine breathlessly, “just want your cum,” 
he scoffs, peeling your hand off. his thumb continues to work you as he seethes, “you want my cum? think you can take it? then sit on it.” 
“what?” 
“you heard me. want my dick that bad? sit on it, angel.”  
you consider his offer for a moment, then sigh out at the virtue of the pleasure he’s giving your bud right now. you need to come so bad, you have been so good—he’s teased you for so many days in a row and you haven’t complained once until now. despite the nerves bubbling in your stomach, you decide the prize of feeling him fill you up is much too tempting to pass up. If you could take three of his fingers, surely, you could take him, too. 
with unsteady legs, you lift yourself up a bit, aligning yourself with his dick. the size of his length is much more intimidating all of a sudden, now that you know you’re moments away from sinking down on him. by the looks of it, it could easily reach your belly button. he notices your hesitation, but you bite back your concerns and gulp, refusing to cower now—jaemin would just torture you all over again. you’d never hear the end of it, taunts about how he knows what was best for you and how you should always listen to him. you had to do this, you wanted to. 
you let out a shaky sigh slip past your lips as his tip pushes past your narrow entrance, squeezing your eyes shut at the burning stretch. your mouth forms an ‘o’, but no noise comes out. inch by inch, you sink lower, jaemin’s eyes trained fiercely on you to watch how far your stubborn tantrum will take you. 
“how’s it feel, sweet girl?” 
“good,” you reply through your teeth, even though in reality, it doesn’t feel good at all. It hurts, bad, and you keep your eyes shut so your boyfriend doesn’t see the way tears are welling up in them. but jaemin knows you too well, he notices your tenseness, your body rigid as you struggle to fit all of him. the hand rubbing your waist invites you to relax, but when your ass finally meets his thighs, his dick is so deep within you that it pushes against your cervix. you let out a shaky sob and his features soften. 
“oh, angel.” he mumbles, sitting up gently. his hands fly up to hold your face, “look at me,” 
“so—so big,” you hiccup. 
“i know. i told you so, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay. d’you wanna stop?” 
you quickly shake your head, gripping his shoulders, “no. i want you.” 
“okay, okay,” he nods, “let me help you.” he practically cradles your shaking form and flips the two of you around slowly without pulling out, laying you on your back against the fluffed pillows of your bed. 
“thought you wanted me to ride you,” you whimper, and he shushes you gently. 
“i knew you wouldn’t be able to. just wanted to see how far you’d actually go, but i don’t want you to get hurt anymore, so we’re going to try it like this. if you need me to stop, you tell me and i will, okay?” 
you nod clearly, and he sits back on his heels, keeping only his tip tucked within your walls. softly, he pushes in a bit, then draws back out, groaning at the feeling. when your face softens, he tries it again, until there’s no trace of discomfort on your features. this goes on for a bit, you taking two or three inches of him at most, until he pushes a bit further and you moan out. 
“there we go. that wasn’t so bad, right?” 
“feels so good now.” 
with a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he pushes in again, though he doesn’t bottom out just yet. your pussy flutters around him and your muscles finally fully relax. then, and only then, when your features have become blissful, does he make a move to pick up speed. 
you sigh out, gripping his arms “oh, my god,”
you’re so wet that his dick is glistening every time he pulls out, cunt gushing and squelching around him. he thrusts in deeper still, until finally, his balls hit your ass. 
“you’re all the way in?” 
“stuffing you full, baby.” he confirms.
“it feels so much better than when—” a moan interrupts you when he readjusts, “—than when i tried it,” 
“i know. you wanna sit like this for a bit or do you—” 
“no! I mean… move, please. i want you to move. It feels really good now, jaem, please fuck me,”  
your sweet words make his balls tighten, and he happily obliges, staring to buck into you at his leisure. 
this time, your whines are ones of certain pleasure, and you can’t help but wiggle your hips slightly to meet his thrusts. jaemin isn’t doing anything to hold back his sounds either, and every deep grunt and groan is going straight to your soaked core. there isn’t an ounce of pain left, besides the occasional stretch that at this point, feels delectable, rewarding even. the moment his thumb attaches to your clit again, the feeling in the pit of your stomach starts to grow. 
“jaemin, baby—” 
“taking me so well,” he mutters, “this pretty pussy is all mine, now. all for me to use as i please,” 
the pleas that fall from your lips are borderline pathetic, humiliating even, but the way jaemin’s eyes take you in like you’re the most beautiful and delicate thing only encourage you to get louder. he fucks you faster and brings his hands up to lift your shirt up. your hand cups your own breasts over his and you cry out as he palms it, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 
you undoubtedly enjoy his fingers and you fucking love his tongue, but this feeling is like nothing you’ve even felt before. you can feel every drag of his cock within your gummy insides, every time his tip kisses your cervix… the pressure continues building, so much so that your insides feel like they’re on fire. 
“i’m–i–i think i’m gonna—” the quiver in your voice matches up with your shaking legs, ankles locking around your boyfriend’s waist.
“please come on my dick, sweetheart. shit—need to feel you coming around me,” his voice is tight, and you can tell he’s not far off from his own release. with the way your legs keep him close, it dawns on him that he can't pull out, “baby, loosen up,” he taps your leg, “i can’t hold off much longer with the way you’re milking me,” 
“come inside me,” 
his hips stutter and he blinks down at you, “what?” 
your curled, tear-coated lashes flutter at him and his thumb wipes some drool from the corner of your lips as you plead him, “want your cum inside me, please,” 
jaemin picks up his pace again, and his thumb rubs your puffy clit until you gasp, brows pinching and heat rushing to your cheeks. your pussy convulses around him as you come, gripping any bit of him. his wrist, his arms, his shoulders, his hair—all of them take turns being clutched in your fists as you slur his name, chanting ‘please’ and ‘don’t stop.” 
“good girl. good fucking girl,” 
it doesn’t take long for you to register his load filling you up just moments later, the warm seed coating his dick in a ring of white as his thrusts slow, the only sound left in the room being the pants from both of you. your legs go limb, unwrapping from around him, but he doesn’t move to pull away; instead, he collapses on top of you, but keeping his head up so he can press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. 
“was that okay?” 
“more than okay,” you reply breathlessly. 
his strokes your hair calmly, waiting until you’ve recovered before slipping out of you and crawling off the bed. A moment later, he’s returned with a glass of water which he hands you, and a towel. slowly, in case you were any kind of sore, he spreads your legs, the sight making him laugh. 
“what’s wrong?” you ask after taking a long drink, leaning up on your elbows to look. 
“nothing in the slightest. m’just admiring,” 
“oh,” you hum. 
aftercare from jaemin is always great, but there’s something different about today—about the way he dabs at you softly with the warm towel, leaving trails of kisses on the plush of your inner thighs, that causes your heart to leap in your chest. when you’re clean, and kissed to his satisfaction, he places the towel aside and grabs a clean pair of panties from your drawer to slide up your legs. 
new boxers clothe him, too, and then he grabs your cup and places it on the bedside table before crawling under the sheets beside you. instantly, you nuzzle your face into his neck and he wraps his big arms around you, tucking you close. 
“does anything hurt?” he whispers, lips pressed against your head. 
“a little sore, i think.” 
“1-10?” 
“hmmm…” you turn to look up at him as you ponder, meeting his pretty eyes, “maybe a 4,” 
“my poor baby,” he mumbles, “i’m sorry,” 
“don’t be,” you kiss him, “i’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.” 
his lips chase yours and he smiles, “yeah? round two?” your eyes widen like saucers and he laughs, “i’m only joking, doll.”
“after a little nap, i’ll be good as new.” you beam, “maybe then, i can try riding you,” 
“patience, baby… we have to ease into that,” 
with a roll of your eyes and a grumble of “you and easing into things, jaemin, i swear–” you lay your head on his chest once more and drift off as he plays with your hair.
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parkerslatte · 8 months ago
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It’s Been a Long, Long Time
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: memory loss.
Summary: The last time Azriel had seen his mate was nearly four centuries ago. The bond went silent and for those many years, Azriel believed his mate was dead. As he sits with Elain in her garden, the bond suddenly comes alive once again.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
The day Azriel lost his mate, he was in agony. Not because of the pain, no. It was because of the lack of knowledge if she was alive or not. The bond fell quiet and Azriel could hardly grasp onto it. It was as if he were trying to catch smoke. There was nothing to touch. For years he searched for her, he never wanted to give up. He knew that every moment he waited, she could be in danger. 
Even long after she disappeared, Azriel still searched. However, as the centuries ticked by, Azriel began to lose hope. He was sure he had searched every possible location. There was no trace of Y/N. 
Azriel sat with Elain in her garden. He had noticed a positive change in the middle Archeron sister for the past few months. When Rhys tasked him to watch over Elain and help her adjust, he originally hated the idea. But he knew the reason why Rhys had set him the task. It was coming up to the 400th anniversary since Y/N had disappeared. 
As Azriel looked down at the ring in his hands, he could feel his heart plummet. Even if being around Elain had helped distract himself as she explained all of the flowers to him and their various meanings, the closer it got to the anniversary of Y/N’s disappearance, Azriel felt himself slip away from everyone and everything. 
The ring was still beautiful even after all this time. Azriel made sure it was. Despite vowing to never take off her wedding ring, Y/N always took it off before bed, deeming that it was uncomfortable when she rested her head upon her hand to sleep. But the first thing she did every morning was slip the ring back upon her finger. The night she was taken it had been no different except one thing, Azriel had not been there. His job had kept him away for an extra day, and for the first time since they were mated and married, Azriel had not fallen asleep next to Y/N. He had regretted that for four hundred years. The only reminder of her was the ring he found on her bedside cabinet that morning. 
“Azriel!” The sound of Elain’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 
“Sorry?” He lifted his gaze from the ring and met Elain’s. 
“I asked you what that was,” Elain said, gesturing down to the ring in his hand. 
Azriel stilled. He never liked speaking about it with anyone but Rhys or Cassian. But seeing how Elain’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern, he could tell that a saddened expression had slipped onto his face. 
Azriel sighed. “It was my mate’s wedding ring.”
“Mate?” Elain said, her expression falling slightly. 
Azriel cringed internally. He knew about Elain’s small crush on him. She did not hide it well. Though he did not return her feelings, he still enjoyed her company. With her, she understood when he just wished to sit in silence and when he didn’t want to talk, she continued the conversation on her own. 
Perhaps there was a time where he could have retired her feelings, Elain was rather beautiful, but she would never compare to Y/N. Azriel had never had another relationship after Y/N disappeared. He only ever wanted Y/N and he would only ever want her. 
“Yes,” Azriel said, swallowing hard. “She- she disappeared four-hundred years ago. I was never able to find her.”
The small hurt expression on Elain’s face changed to one of sympathy. “Azriel, I am so sorry.”
Azriel nodded and looked back at the ring. “I have looked everywhere and there is no trace of her. I have always felt…empty since she disappeared. She was part of my soul that I have never gotten back.”
Elain dropped the bulbs she was holding back into her basket. “How do you know she is not out there? You couldn’t have searched everywhere on the planet?”
“I have searched everywhere where it was possible to take her,” Azriel answered. “I have found absolutely nothing.”
“Then believe that she is still out there,” Elain said.
“Elain, it has been nearly four-hundred years,” Azriel said. “I gave up hope of her still being alive a long time ago.”
“Do you still love her?” Elain asked. 
“More than anything,” Azriel said instantly. “I haven’t been with anyone after she disappeared. I tried, about two-hundred years ago but I couldn’t do it. It felt so wrong. No one will ever compare to her.”
“Then you shouldn’t give up hope,” Elain said. “You don’t give up hope on those you love.”
Azriel did not reply. He simply looked back down at the ring once more. It was centuries old yet it still looked brand new. Azriel made sure that the silver band never tarnished. Made sure that the gem never stopped sparkling. It looked the same as the day he had slipped it onto her finger. Elain, sensing Azriel wished to no longer talk about the topic, returned back to her garden. 
Ever since Y/N had disappeared, Azriel had always felt like he had lost part of his soul, and he supposed he had. Y/N was everything to him. She was who he lived for. She was the one and only love he ever needed, ever wanted. The night the bond snapped for them was one Azriel would never forget. Even if he tried, he would never be able to forget it. The initial shock then the pure feeling of the love she sent him. For the first time in his life, Azriel knew what it was like to be loved so deeply and unconditionally. It did not matter whether he deserved it or not. When he was with Y/N, none of that mattered. All that mattered was him and her and the fact that they were together. 
As Azriel tucked the ring back into his breast pocket, a large surge of emotion was brought to life within him. He clutched at his chest. Azriel cried out.
“Azriel?” Elain questioned, shooting to her feet. “Are you okay?”
Her voice was muffled as Azriel continued to claw at his chest. Something was threatening to burst through. 
“Something is different,” he forced out. 
“Do I need to get anyone?” Elain asked. 
“Rhys,” Azriel said. “I need Rhys.”
Elain nodded and ran out of the garden and into the house in search of his brother.
Azriel tried to stand but fell to his knees immediately. He could barely breathe. The pressure in his chest was gradually increasing and he could not place the feeling anywhere. 
“I have Rhys,” Elain said, rushing back into the garden, Rhys following behind her. 
“Az, what’s wrong?” Rhys asked, kneeling down next to him. 
“I don’t know,” Azriel said, breathing heavily. “There is a pressure in my chest. I don’t know what it is.”
“What were you doing before it started?” Rhys asked.
“Telling–” Azriel cut himself off as he yelled out. The pressure was becoming worse and Azriel was sure that if he tried to repress it anymore, it would surely kill him. “Telling Elain about Y/N.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Elain asked quietly, standing a small distance away.
“Az, you need to relax,” Rhys said, placing a hand on his shoulder. 
“I can’t,” Azriel said through gritted teeth. 
“The pressure will kill you if you don’t relax,” Rhys said sternly. “So, please, relax.”
Azriel met Rhy’s eyes and stopped clawing at his chest. The pain in his chest gradually got worse and worse. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. 
“Rhys,” Azriel whispered, his voice full of pain. “I can’t…”
“Yes you can,” Rhys said. “Just relax, Az.”
Azriel closed his eyes and relaxed his body, letting the pain overtake his body until he cried out once again. However as soon as he cried out, the pain stopped and a new feeling overtook his body. It was overwhelming and Azriel backed away from Rhys’s touch. 
“Azriel,” Rhys said. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. I can’t–”
Azriel cut himself off as a familiar feeling rose within him. This time he didn’t claw at his chest, he gently placed his hand upon it. The emotions he was feeling weren’t his. They were someone else’s. Azriel hadn’t felt this way in a long time. He had forgotten what it felt like. But it felt right. 
“The mating bond,” Azriel said. “I feel the mating bond.”
Even Rhys looked shocked as he looked at Azriel. “Are you sure?”
Azriel nodded. “I can feel it. I can feel her, Rhys.”
Tears sprung to Azriel’s eyes. He tugged on that bond that had lain dormant for four hundred years. It was weak though he felt her tug back. Azriel could have sobbed at that feeling alone. 
“Take me back to my home, Rhys,” Azriel said. 
The home Azriel shared with Y/N. He hadn’t entered it in a long time. He could never bring himself to. Every single time he tried, he couldn’t open the door. That house was the home he made with Y/N and Azriel did not want to be there if she wasn’t. 
“Are you sure?” Rhys asked.
“I’m sure,” Azriel said. “She is there, Rhys. I can feel it.”
Rhys nodded and winnowed them to the outside of Azriel’s home on the outskirts of Velaris. As soon as they arrived, Azriel could already smell the familiar scent of his mate. He pushed away from Rhys and opened the front door. 
And there she was.
Y/N stood in the middle of the room looking around with her hands on her hips. “You could have dusted, Az.”
Azriel simply couldn’t believe it. “Y/N? Are you really here?”
Y/N smiled softly and Azriel nearly collapsed right there. That smile was always in his dreams but seeing it again in person…
Azriel rushed over to her and scooped her in his arms as they both sank to the floor. Azriel couldn’t stop the sobs that came from him and neither could Y/N. The bond between them hummed happily. Four hundred years of being apart and now finally being reunited. It was something Azriel had given up on a long time ago. 
“How are you here?” Azriel mumbled, his sobs subsided but his tears didn’t. “I thought you were dead.”
Y/N pulled away from the hug and cupped Azriel’s cheeks and wiped away the tears. “You are exactly as I remember. It has been so long since I remembered what you looked like.”
“What do you mean?” Azriel asked. 
Y/N sighed and held onto Azriel tighter, as if she were afraid she was going to be taken once more. “The night I was taken, I was drugged, they wanted me for my power of healing and I refused to give in. They were bad men and I was not going to help them no matter how hard they tried to convince me. They drugged my food to make me compliant but the only thing I could think about was you and our bond. Once they realised who I was and who I was mated to, they gave me another drug. This time it was one to dampen the power of the mating bond. It made me stop feeling you.”
“I remember that night,” Azriel said. “I thought you blocked it off.”
Y/N shook her head. “Once the mating bond was dampened, they drugged me with something else. Over time I began to forget things, important things. My name, where I came from, my family, my friends…you.”
Azriel wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. The sound of her heart beating was enough to bring a new surge of tears to his eyes. He never thought he would hear it again.
“They took me to a place on the continent, an entire city deep below ground with its own artificial sun and moon, whole fields and towns. Once I did not remember anything, they gave me a new identity and a whole new life.” 
“You didn’t remember me?” Azriel asked.
“I didn’t,” Y/N said sadly, threading her fingers in his hair. “But I always felt that there was a part of me missing. Even though the mating bond was repressed, I always felt that something was not quite right.”
Azriel’s heart fell. This whole time he had been in agony that his mate had been missing, while she did not remember him at all.  “How did you escape?” he asked. 
“If you believe me or not, there are good people in that community, incredible people,” Y/N said. “They helped me flush the drugs from my system and helped me remember who I once was.”
“The bond?” Azriel asked. “Did they help with that?”
Y/N shook her head. “Once the drugs were from my system and I was finally above ground, I felt you. I winnowed back here instantly. Consider me surprised when this house looks exactly the same as when I left four-hundred years ago.”
“I haven’t been able to come back here since you were taken,” Azriel whispered, his voice soft and vulnerable. 
Y/N caressed his face and wiped his tears away. “Oh, my darling. I am here now. Only if you still want me, of course.”
Azriel frowned. “Why wouldn’t I want you?”
“Az, my love, it has been four-hundred years. I would understand if you moved on in those years,” Y/N said. 
Azriel shook his head. “There has been no one else. I tried almost two centuries ago but I couldn’t do it. All I wanted was you.” When Azriel looked at her face again, he nearly burst into tears once more. It had been so long since he had looked into those loving eyes. The type of love he once thought he never deserved. “If you had found anyone, I would understand. You didn’t remember me.” Just that statement alone made Azriel hurt all over again. 
Y/N sighed a pained noise. “I won’t lie to you and say that there was no one, Azriel. There were a couple of people I have been with over the past four centuries.”
A new surge of tears streamed down Azriel’s cheeks as he gripped onto Y/N tighter. 
“But,” she continued, “there has been no one for many years and no one ever stuck around long. I could never fully commit. It was as if my body knew that it was wrong. I did like a few people but I never loved them. I could never love anyone more than I love you.”
“I never want you to go anywhere again,” Azriel whispered into her hair. “I missed you so much.”
Azriel’s fingers tangled in her hair as he rested his forehead against hers. Her soft breath fanned his face and Azriel swore he could nearly faint. Her scent, her touch, her breath. They were all things Azriel never thought he would ever witness again. 
“I am never going anywhere again,” Y/N mumbled. “I will remain beside you forever, my love.”
Azriel reluctantly unwrapped one hand from around Y/N and reached into his pocket and pulled out her ring. Y/N gasped once she saw it. 
“You kept it?” She asked.
“Of course I kept it,” Azriel said. “I always have it on me. It was the only thing I had that reminded me of you.”
Y/N wiped her tears away as Azriel took her hand gently in hers and slid the ring onto her finger. “Perfect,” he whispered.
Y/N looked him in the eyes. The love she held within them was something Azriel never forgot. He would see them in his dreams and nightmares. It was something he never thought he would see in person again. 
“Can I kiss you?” Azriel asked, almost afraid of the answer. 
Y/N smiled. “Az, I am your mate and your wife. There might have been a four century gap in our relationship but those two facts do not change. I love you. Of course you can kiss me. Kiss me until you can’t anymore.”
The shadowsinger smiled. “Then I’m afraid we will be here a while.”
Azriel finally kissed his mate and wife for the first time in four hundred years. 
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astarion-approves · 1 year ago
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More than sex.
Astarion x gn! Tav
"You’re telling me, that you.. would pass on a night of… meaningless, fantastic, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mind blowing sex… for love?”
“Yes.”
Rating: Mature (for the subject but no actual sex or smut in any way shape or form.) Tags: Demisexuality, demisexual Tav, Demisexual Reader, No Smut, gn! Reader, Slight spoilers, Act One spoilers, Developing Relationship, Developing Friendships, Drabble, short and sweet, Confessions
Ao3 or keep reading below:
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“I’m just looking for a little more excitement. A little more fun.”
Tav considered these words, anytime they saw Astarion having ‘fun’ was on the battlefield. Either stabbing his way through anything that stood before him, or sneaking up behind them and slitting their throat before they could even scream. “And what’s your idea of ‘a little fun?’”
Astarion smiled, taking a sip of his cheap wine before speaking, “By the hells. Sex, my dear. A night of passion.” 
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed. So, how about—“
“Shadowheart is free.” Tav looked over their shoulder to where she stood by her own tent where she fiddled with a bottle of wine attempting to open it with slow hands. 
“Wait, what—“ Astarion shifted to look past Tav to where she stood, the woman catching his gaze and glaring in return. 
“And she’s really pretty too,” Tav offered. 
“I’m not interested in hearing her praise her goddess tonight.” 
“Well, there’s also Lae’zel—“
Astarion shook his head. “I think she would rather behead me before she would ever bed me.”
“Halsin is available too—“ The Druid elf was handsome, and such a powerful one at that but before Tav could even finish, Astarion cut them off.
“Tempting, but not the one I’m interested in.” 
“Gale—“
“No.” 
Tav hummed, putting their hands on their hips as they scanned the rest of the camp. There were many others, but most were already too drunk to even remember their own names. “I can’t think of anyone else.” 
“There’s always you, darling.” 
“Me?” Tav snorted a laugh. Surely he must have been joking. Of all the people that Astarion could have… Tav would personally put themselves at the bottom of the list. 
“Yes, you. It’s not everyday someone like yourself would be propositioned by someone like me, and this may be your last opportunity—“
“No thank you.” 
“No?! What do you mean ‘no’?!” Astarion was shocked, his hands jumping to his chest as if Tav had stabbed him directly in the heart. 
Tav grimaced, the way that Astarion’s face dropped, the hurt that filled his eyes so quickly… “Look, I’m not… rejecting you—“
“Sure sounds like rejection to me—“
They shook their head. “I need to be in love first… before I can…” Tav lifted their hands, gesturing towards Astarion in a weak display of trying to find the words and failing. “Don’t get me wrong… you’re- you are breathtaking, Astarion. The most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on—“ 
“Yes, I know. But– you’re telling me, that you.. would pass on a night of… meaningless, fantastic, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mind blowing sex… for love?” 
“Yes.”
Astarion paused, taken aback. “Well, that’s actually quite admirable… But why?” 
“For me, I want it to mean something. Sex is an easily obtainable thing, but love… love you have to work for, to fight for, to earn and to cherish. Sex is great and all but… making love to the person who means the most to you in the world. That’s what I want. That’s what I need.” 
Astarion tapped his finger against his lips, thinking to himself before speaking again. “Hm. Sex and love, I never took you for such a sap,” he said with a light laugh. “Well, how do you feel about being friends then, hm? The kind of friends that protect one another, that is.” 
Tav chuckled. “I think it’s too late for that.” 
“Too late?! So what, now we can’t even be friends?!” Astarion threw his hands up, frustrated. “All I did was hit on you and now—“ 
“No, no,” Tav cut him off, reaching for Astarion’s hands and holding them gently. “What I mean… We can be friends but… I have developed some feelings for you. If you want to be friends, that’s fine. That’s great, actually. I just… well, I need to know if I should ignore those feelings—“  
Astatrion pulled his hands way, choosing to gesture towards Tav as he spoke. “So, let me get this straight. You have ‘some’ feelings for me?”
“Yes,” Tav replied with a nod. 
“But you don’t want to fuck me, tonight? Right now?” 
“Right.” They nodded again. 
“How very interesting… and even.. a little refreshing,” Astarion smiled, a smile that almost seemed shy… With his head turning away from Tav—and Tav swore they saw the smallest blush growing on his cheeks. 
“Refreshing?” Tav questioned, learning towards Astarion in an attempt to see that adorable blush— 
Astarion waved them off, the blush already gone and Astarion back to his usual self. “Never mind that, Tav. I guess we can see where this goes then?” He reached out, taking Tav’s hand into his own and giving it a light squeeze. “Whatever this is, anyway.” 
Tav smiled. “I’d like that.” 
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hatsukeii · 4 months ago
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ring pop! / bsf!ushijima wakatoshi x reader
genre(s): heavy on the crack and fluff, dumb and dumber, ushiwaka is dense but loveable! childhood bsf to lovers! yay! sunshine! rainbows! candy!
warning(s): nothing, implied fem reader for fluency's sake, but please interpret this as you'd like!! i myself am non-binary, so at the very least you know the person who's writing has you in mind!! i still tried my best to keep everything gender neutral to the best of my ability!!
wc: 1490
tldr; “boyfriend? but i thought we were already dating?”
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“Wakatoshi, can I have your second button?”
Petals of blooming sakura flowers replace the grey pavement beneath your shoes with a mosaic of dusty pink as you stand beneath Shiratorizawa’s famous confession tree. It’s a ritual that has been done for many graduations before your own, students would act nonchalant as they drag their romantic prospects beneath this very tree, all to ask for their second shirt button. This year, it’s your turn, your hands clenched behind your back as you rock forward, backward, forward, backward.
“What do you mean? My second button?”
“Yeah, your second button.”
Wakatoshi’s nose twitches in confusion and under the blanket of pollen from the flowers above. What’s so special about his second button, that you’ve dragged him under the Shiratorizawa tree for? His hand shoots up, picking at the thread sewn between each hole in his second uniform button. It doesn’t budge as he picks and pulls, until finally, he rips it off with force, handing it to you between pinched fingers.
“Here.” He reaches for one of your hands, linked with the other in anxiety and anticipation, and pushes your fingers apart, before dropping the button into your palm unceremoniously. You stare blankly at the small round in your hand, then at Wakatoshi’s deadpan expression.
“Toshi, that’s…that’s not how it works.”
He tilts his head in confusion, eyebrows furrowing as if trying to search your head for clues. The petals shuffle beneath your feet as you mindlessly grind your shoe into the ground, not sure what to make of this situation.
“I’m not sure what you mean. I gave you the second button, like you asked. Did I do something wrong?”
“Wakatoshi, I’m asking you to be my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend? Do you hear yourself? What nonsense, what has he been to you for the past six years, if not that?
“Boyfriend? But I thought we were already dating?”
You mind empties its contents as your jaw goes slack, a dumbfounded hum escaping your windpipe. You’re not too sure- no, you have not a single idea when that idea planted itself into his head. You’ve been subtle enough, right? And careful too! No love letters, or secret gifts, or bento boxes, just day to day, regular best friend interactions between the two of you. What could have possibly gone wrong?
“Dating? Where did you get that from??”
Wakatoshi frowns, hands moving to his pockets. A spring breeze whizzes by, filling the stale air between himself and you. That’s not very nice of you. Wakatoshi knows close to nothing about relationships, but he does know one thing: You probably should remember how you got together in the first place.
“You…forgot?” After all these years of tailing behind you at grocery stores, and weekly dinners at your house, and running to your place at a text’s notice, only to end up watching dramas all night and crying with you, and you forgot that you were dating? His voice quivers, a rush of betrayal in the gleam of his eyes stabbing at your chest as he grimaces at your confused expression, then back at the second button he just ripped off his chest that sits in your hand.
“I think I would remember if we‘re dating…but we aren’t.”
“How could you forget? I still have the ring pop from that day!”
What?
“Wakatoshi, the ring pop? From sixth grade?” At the mention of the ring pop, the fuzziness of an afternoon six years ago is wiped clean. You can almost taste the disgustingly artificial grape flavour that tingled and fizzed on your tongue, before sending you into a sugar high for hours, feel the cheap plastic ring that hung a size too big from your ring finger. You’re fairly certain that the company had discontinued that line of ring pops by now, the two pack too costly of a production for the cheap price they sold for in convenience stores.
“Yeah! I asked you to be my girlfriend with the second pop, and you said yes! You even wore the ring on your ring finger!”
His hands leave his pockets now, pointing accusingly at your ring finger that lacks a humorously large plastic ring. You’re not sure whether to be shocked or to laugh hysterically, not when Wakatoshi’s accusations of your…infidelity? are rooted in the sanctity and candour of a discontinued ring pop, until it all hits you at once. All the nights that he would drop off bags of groceries at your doorstep, your mother gleaming at his persistent service, and the afternoons of watching his volleyball trainings, his eyes glancing at you for approval at every legal point he makes, all the little times that led up to your eventual confession weren’t “best friend interactions.”
They were the actions of a boyfriend. A boyfriend, who (rightfully so) thought he was dating his girlfriend.
“Toshi…did it never occur to you that we’ve done absolutely NOTHING in all these years of ‘dating’? I mean, wouldn’t you have wanted to, I dunno, hold my hand? Or like, kiss me?”
Wakatoshi jolts backwards by an inch, hand travelling towards his jaw as he rubs it introspectively, trying to fan off the heat that is crawling from his chest to his neck. You stifle a giggle, before clearing your throat guiltily. No, you shouldn’t laugh at him. He’s trying his best to process the past six years of unrequited ‘dating’, how could you interrupt him? Do you have no heart, or shame?
“W-well, my dad’s always taught me not to do anything with anyone, partner or not, unless they asked for it first… and you never asked to. So, I never did.” He finally responds, as confidently as his stuttering voice could seem. “Besides, I assumed you weren’t the type of person to be into super-romantic dating, so I just never questioned it.”
You shake your head, smiling at the ground as you take a step towards him. Your hand grips his uniform button by your side, afraid that it might get lost in the petals if you drop it. Wakatoshi’s head darts from left to right, as if piecing together red herrings on a cork board, pinning down every interaction from sixth grade to now with thumbtacks as the strings tangle and twist.
“What about our drama nights? Was that also just being best friends?”
“Yes, Wakatoshi. That is what best friends do.”
“The grocery runs?”
“You offered to do them, and I assumed it was because you were always training late and wanted to help a friend out on the way home.”
“And the weekly dinners at your place?”
“We’re neighbours!”
You watch him groan, his face shoved into his now clammy palms. This is information overload, and Wakatoshi’s processor is melting down in front of your very eyes. He shakes his head frantically, his hair becoming disheveled. His hands run through his green locks, and land on his hips as his feet tap at the petal-covered ground.
“So, we have not been dating for six years, but you want to start dating from today onwards?”
"That is exactly what I'm asking."
Finally. He’s finally got it. The button weighs heavy in your hand, and you duck beneath his face to look him in the eye. He glances away, visibly repulsed by his embarrassment. He should've caught the signs...well, earlier. It somehow has never occured to him that a ring pop proposal might not be the most legitimate way to one's heart, and it certainly has never occured to him that it might have come off as an ingenuine attempt at securing a relationship.
"I meant it when I gave you the ring pop though."
Your face morphs into an effortless smile, the towering boy looking more timid than he ever has before. You haven't changed one bit since the day he's 'proposed' to you, from the smile lines that adorn your face, to the little pout of your lips when you grin. And as you look at him, eyes shimmering under the shade of the infamous Shiratorizawa confession tree, Wakatoshi is twleve years old again, missing a canine tooth on the top right side of his toothbed. He's pinching a long discontinued ring pop between both thumbs and index fingers, getting down on one bandaged knee earnestly to pop the big question.
"Will you be my girlfriend?"
And suddenly, you're twelve years old, standing right there, in front of him, tiny hands covering your mouth as you gasp and tell him yes, a million times over and more. Wakatoshi is 5'2 here, a whole foot shorter than his now eighteen year old self, slotting a ring pop that's two sizes too big on your ring finger, the candy diamond shimmering in the sunlight on the walk home. Except now, the ring pop has transformed into the second button of his soon to be forgotten Shiratorizawa shirt, residing in your clenched fist.
"I know. I know you did."
His eyes refocus as he snaps out of his thoughts, and he wonders if you still have the plastic ring from the ring pop, the one that means to him doing groceries for your household before his own, and showing up at your door to watch dramas all night in your bed, and helping your parents with the cooking before your weekly dinners. His eyes soften, the probing frown long gone from his face as he returns your smile with his own, cheeks pink and teeth threatening to show through his suppressed grin.
"Does this mean I get to kiss you now?"
"Yes, Toshi. Yes it does."
His hands spare no time to cup your face, pulling it up to his own as his fingers draw lines across your cheekbones. Wakatoshi's brain bursts in sparks of gold and red, and he genuinely ponders how he has lived until now without ever doing this once. He pulls away, unsure what else to do after, before sneezing in your face.
"Sorry, pollen, gross."
"Let's get out of here then, quick."
You grab his hand in your own, another sensation he isn't sure how he's lived without until now, and pull him away from the tree as you run to the school exit. He jogs behind you, and you turn around, your fingers interlocked with each other's.
"By the way, happy sixth anniversary, Toshi!"
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author's note:
@catsoupki here's your long overdue ushiwaka prompt baby i hope you like you like ;P i had so much fun writing this omg i cracked myself AND my sister up like twenty times running her through what my plan was LMAOO
i too need ushiwaka btw i actually love him SO MUCH it's not funny anymore I NEED HIM SBSBSBSBSB the only other fic i have of him is genuinely some of the worst situations i've put any haikyuu character in recently so i have to treat him to a good one here ofc
anyways tags!!
@starlysama @chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @bailey-reeds
ok love u guys see u next fic bye bye
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rene-darling · 8 months ago
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WOULD- he send n00ds? And how?
...would these modern college AU genshin men send n00ds to you?...
...Xiao...wanderer...lyney...
Xiao
No.
Absolutely- not.
The very idea is preposterous and disgusting. And after all, he's heard wayyy too many stories of a person's nudes getting leaked, and he does not want his stuff all out there.
He trusts you, yes. But especially at the beginning of your relationship, there's not enough trust for him to do that.
Xiao doesn't usually go to frat parties, but his friend is the one throwing this one so he felt obliged to go. What could go wrong?
Xiao doesn't drink, nor does he party, but after chugging drink after drink and being sat in a circle playing truth or dare, his tipsy mind is feeling rather- ballsy.
So it goes as follows, he picks dare and gets dared into sending nudes to the last person he's messaged, Xiao's great at keeping secrets so no one knows that you're dating, truth be told- even in his drunken state if the last number he texted had been anyone else, he wouldn't have done it.
But it's you. So his drunken mind agrees. He takes a rather risky photo, some alcohol is dripping from his mouth, sweat runs down his forehead, his back is arched and he gives such a sultry look. Then, he presses sent. The rest of his night is spent partying and drinking more, so his memory of doing this fades into bliss- that is, until the next morning.
Accompanying his painful headache is a certain memory, that makes him physically gag in remembrance, he rushes to check his phone, hoping- praying that you didn't see it- he thinks he's gonna faint from embarrassment when he sees the little *seen* at the bottom of the text.
Fuck. You saw it. You didn't even respond- he shoves his head into the pillow screaming externally and internally- you fucking saw it! And-...you didn't even respond..does that mean you don't like it..? Wait. That's the least of his worries!!!
He's happy about the fact that he doesn't have to see you in his first few classes. But then, it's time for a class that you both have together.
He has half the mind just to skip, but eventually, he has to face you, better be it now than later right?
Whatever, it'll be fine, he'll just explain to you- that he didn't mean it, he was drunk n at a party he wasn't thinkin-
Suddenly Xiao hisses as he's pulled into the janitors closet on his way to class, he swiftly turns his head to glare at the person who did this- it's you.
"So, Xiao, about the pictures you sent. I called you at least 10 times after those, but..you didn't answer." He opens and closes his mouth like a fish, his whole plan goes out the window as he just meekly stares up at you. This wasn't what he expected, but it wasn't something he disliked-..perhaps...he should send some to you even when he has clarity of mind?
Wanderer
Far too skeptical to entertain such a thought.
If you mention it first he'll just scoff at you and give you a dirty glare "Do I look like one of your whores?" "But baby- you're my only whore not one of them-" expect to get a glare from him the whole lecture, in and out of the class. His stare is practically sending you a death threat
Later, if he catches himself thinking about what you asked of him he cringes at himself and the thought.
He's not one to trust people easily, he's been stabbed in the back, and betrayed far too much to be vulnerable enough and to trust you enough to send nudes.
His head runs wild, what if you didn't like what you saw? What if you decided he was so ugly you needed to share those photos with those around you? What if, what if what if.
It's only later on, deep into your relationship that the thought of sending pics crosses his mind once more.
He's tapping his foot harshly against the ground. He's sitting at his seat as students pour into the lecture hall, his eyes scan the room as he sees you walk in and wave at him, just like always. You sit next to him, but he just can't maintain eye contact.
He has his phone in his right hand, staring at the screen intently as the sound of the classroom processes as background noise for him. Should he? What if you don't like it? What if you just meant it as a joke and you'll actually get disgusted once you gaze upon the photos..?
He sighs resting his head on his desk in contemplation. 'I mean...I took some measures just in case, I'm sending it on snap so she can't save or look at it again..fuck-..it should be fine..right..?' his thoughts are jumbled but ultimately he- "fuck it." And he presses sent.
Now it's just a matter of waiting for you to check your phone, it's like the clock is ticking extra slowly and you're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You heard the ding so check the goddamn phone already- and then you picked up your phone, once you noticed it was your boyfriend who texted you, you glanced at him, a confused expression, he's sitting right next to you- so why would he- oh.
Almost immediately you duck your phone down under your desk, you don't want to share this sight with any eyes that aren't yours.
"..why now? Fuck- you look pretty..?" Your mumbling- he has you mumbling. That's a good thing right?
And- and you complimented him- that means you liked it right?
He's such a brat, sending you a photo of his back arched, his tongue sticking out as he was wearing a short skirt with thigh highs, you could catch a glimpse under it from the picture- in which you could tell he wasn't wearing anything.
Your boyfriend who loved baggy clothes and dark styles was wearing a pink flirry skirt!
Heats pooling in your pants as you glare at him,
He had a smug look on his face- looking oh so proud. Anyways- he thought you would wait and fuck him after class. But once he felt your hand creeping up his thigh his eyes widened in shock as he realized you had no plans to wait until after the lecture.
lyney
Agrees.
Well- he's definitely startled at your request, out of all things...this is what you desire most?
"mon amour- out of all things I- gulp didn't expect you to ask for n-...indecent photos." He's startled to say the least,
But he's not completely against the idea of it.
Your darling lyney is a magician, quick on his feet, he quite quickly puts that flustered face away to replace it for a rather cheeky one.
"Mon amour, I knew you missed me whenever I was busy practicing for my shows but to this extent! my-"
"forget it." His smug attitude is a turn off. At times.
Letting go of the idea you didn't really think he would go through with it anytime soon.
You don't expect anything unusual to happen today, like always you kiss lyney good luck for his show before heading to the audience to watch him perform from there.
Lyney's cheeky grin is noticed by you, but you just assume he's giddy for his show, heading into the audience to wait for your boyfriend,
you hear a ding. And as you open the message you drop your phone to the ground. It's a simple picture, it's of lyney, he sends you pictures of himself on the daily so what was so shocking about this one?
Well- for starters he's naked. Tied up with intricate red ropes, they look tight, especially around his thighs- wait. You recognize those ropes, they're the same ones he's gonna use for his performance today!-
And he does. Flaunting around those ropes in his performance, the same ones from the damn photos.
Lyney walks into his dressing room as usual- that is before he's pinned to the wall by none other than you.
"oh? Are you that excited to congratulate me on today's performance?" As your hand tightens around his wrist he starts to feel even more giddy
"what the fuck was that? " "Hm? Did you mind? It was a present." He's so smug.
"no- the ropes. You used the same ones from the performance didn't you- you cheeky fuck-"
"the ropes are over there, if you plan on doing something you should hurry, I have a fan meet n greet soon~" "oh I'll hurry alright."
You didn't hurry, for some reason unknown to his fans, the magician was unable to attend the meet n greet.
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dreamsteddie · 5 days ago
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AITA Steddie Au Part Three
Part Two
Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!
Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓
------
Eddie takes Steve on that second date.
And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.
Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.
Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.
Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.
------
"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.
"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.
He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.
"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.
"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.
Gareth doesn't say anything.
The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.
He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.
So why this? Why now?
"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.
Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.
Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."
With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.
"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.
Eddie kept walking.
-------
That was over four weeks ago.
He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.
In other news.
Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.
"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.
"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.
"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.
But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.
Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.
"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.
"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."
Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.
"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.
Silence.
Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face™.
Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"
And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.
"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.
"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.
"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.
It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.
Eddie squeezes his hand back.
"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.
Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.
Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.
"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.
"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.
"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.
Gotcha.
Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.
Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.
Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.
Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.
Tag List
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farmerstarter · 6 months ago
Note
maybe some general seb relationship headcanons if you dont mind? especially prior to it or crushing/early dating. how would he react to the confession? would his friends tease him? etc.
im a little picky w sdv hc blog interpretations and i love yours! theyre so sweet. if this is a lot feel free to just do as much as you'd like 💟
ʚ👾ɞ ˚ · . Crushing
tags: sebastian from sdv x gn! reader
OMG Anon! I am so sorry this is sooooo late. I just finished my 2nd year of college and it was so hectic. But now I have WAY more time to write. Writing this was so fun! if you have any fic requests then feel free to send me an ask! <3 purple divider by @saradika-graphics <3
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𐙚⭑ Sebastian couldn’t deny that he, like everyone else in the valley, was curious about the new farmer moving into the overgrown expanse of land to the west of town. He was a bit down on the idea of not having his usual smoking place anymore, but the intrigue easily overpowered it. He was one of the last people to meet you. Sam and Abigail couldn’t stop talking about you. Which was reasonable, nothing ever happens in the valley. The more Sebastian knew about you, the more confused he got. Why move out in the middle of nowhere? Why leave the city for a pile of dirt and a mosquito-infested house? It was weird. For him, at least.
𐙚⭑ You two finally met at night. Sebastian was smoking by the waterfall, and you ambled your way out of the cave with a bag full of copper and coal. The mountains were wisped with fog, cold with dew. Sebastian was sure he was the only living soul out in the open. Much to his surprise, and at the expense of his dignity, he let out the loudest scream he could muster when you decided it was a good idea to sneak up on him to say hello while you were covered in soot and mud. While he was calming himself down and you were washing your face in the lake, you promised not to tell Sam or Abigail about the encounter. Sebastian was very grateful for that. The two of you spent the next hour talking.
𐙚⭑ The next time you met him was when you were discussing building plans with Robin in her house. Robin was just explaining that you needed more wood for your planned chicken coop, and Sebastian just so happened to come out to return his pile of plates to the kitchen. Robin waved him over to introduce him to you. His eyes met yours, and you immediately introduced yourself properly. You gave him a discreet wink when Robin’s back was turned. You deduced that Robin wouldn’t have been too happy to know her son was out at the late hours of the night, smoking his third cigarette in one sitting. Seeing this as an opportunity for her son to get some sunlight, Robin asked Sebastian to accompany you while you got more wood. He didn’t have anything to do; he had finished his module for the week, and he was curious about what his friends were telling him about you. So, he agreed to do it.
𐙚⭑ The two of you decided that Cindersnap Forest would be a good place to chop down some trees. You led the way while Sebastian followed suit, dragging along a wheelbarrow that Robin gave you to make the trip back to the mountains easier. Sebastian spent the day sitting on the makeshift bridge over the river and watching you cut down too many trees for him to count. There were times when you offered to teach him how to wield an axe. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you, so he just shook his head and decided to arrange the logs of wood in the wheelbarrow instead. It was 2 pm when you finally had enough wood for the coop, but neither of you wanted to go back just yet, mostly because it was too hot to walk back, and Sebastian didn’t want to burn off his skin.
𐙚⭑ You and Sebastian went to look at whatever the traveling cart was selling. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way the dark-haired man’s eyes widened when he found out the merchant was selling an egg for 500 gold.
𐙚⭑ It would be so cute if you and Sebastian stumbled into the secret woods and that became your little hideaway to hang out when life got demanding for both of you.
𐙚⭑ You definitely fell for him first, but Sebastian fell in love harder. It all started when you invited him, Sam, and Abigail over to eat the many fish dishes you cooked when you finally had a kitchen in your abode. You specifically made sashimi for him since you remembered he mentioned it was his favorite. He was touched. You took the effort to even remember what he said, and that made his heart stutter. (“It tastes just like the ones Linus makes.”) ((Side note: it would be so cute if Sebastian and Linus became friends because Linus would make sashimi for both of them to eat at night by his tent, but I digress.))
𐙚⭑ Your friendship with Sebastian continued to bloom when you found a frog egg in the cave. You immediately ran to Sebastian to show it off. The two of you became parents to a very hungry frog named Blimp.
𐙚⭑ You and Sebastian rode his motorcycle at night when the two of you had nothing to do. He didn’t have an extra helmet yet, so he insisted you wear his helmet instead of him. He wanted you safe.
𐙚⭑ I am a firm believer that Sebastian is the type of person to become loud and talkative when he’s around people he is truly comfortable with. So, the moment you two became friends, Sebastian would invite you to hang out with him and Sam in his room to play Solarian Chronicles. He becomes more animated the longer you play, laughing at Sam’s crappy rolls and your insistence that every small enemy is the true boss in disguise. To both Robin and Demetrius’ surprise, Sebastian spends more time outside compared to the past. The two of you either hang out in the Secret Woods or play the arcade games in the saloon. PICNICS! IN THE SECRET WOODS!!
𐙚⭑ You confessed first, and Sebastian became red in the face in an instant. He couldn’t stop smiling, though. Sam doesn’t let him hear the end of it.
𐙚⭑ On clear nights, you and Sebastian climb up to the roof of his house to stargaze. He loves pointing out constellations to you, showing off what Maru taught him. If he asked nicely enough, his half-sister would let the two of you borrow her telescope.
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morganbritton132 · 2 months ago
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Thank you for feeding us with the Steve Has Older Siblings AU. God tier level of characterization I gotta say.
How do the older siblings handle the “Eddie Munson Problem”? I would imagine they actually do try to get rid of him at first given Eddie’s reputation but then realize he treats Steve better than any of them ever have.
Well, there is cash incentive.
Richard Harrington still has aspirations of going into local politics one days and he is not going let Al Munson’s son kill that dream. Or kill their son. Richard waves a dismissive hand in his wife’s direction because, “Of course. Of course. Or that.”
Whoever makes that boy disappear gets five thousand dollars.
(1.)
Claire takes a direct approach. She corners Steve and tells him that Eddie is a drug dealer and a drug user. She tells him about all the scary things that showed up on his toxicology report in the hospital and Steve replied flatly with, “Wow. Crazy. I had no idea.”
“I’m serious,” She says. “You could get hurt with someone like that. Do you know how that would make us feel if something happened to you?
“I fractured my ankle at a track meet once and Dad made me walk to the car afterwards,” Steve replies. “I think you guys will be fine.”
“I’m serious.”
“You know, Claire,” Steve nods to himself because, yeah. Sure. Let’s do it. “How have you felt the last three years? Or, I don’t know. The last two concussions? You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with for years now and – and you’ve never cared so why now? What’s Dad giving you to ruin my life because-“
He shakes his head, “This is not worth it. Like how picking up the phone when the mall caught on fire with me inside it wasn’t worth the effort. Tell Dad you tried really hard, but no. I’m not going to get rid of one of the few people in my life that actually like me.”
(2.)
Jason takes a different – dumber – approach. He goes in with no plan and no intentions, just took the opportunity when he saw Eddie’s van pulled off on the side of a backroad. He bangs his fist against the side and is delighted that he caught Eddie and Steve.
He threatens to beat Eddie up which is bold to say to an accused murderer in the woods, but okay.
Then he turns around and threatens Steve that he’s going to tell their dad that he was getting high in the woods if he doesn’t keep away from trailer trash, but Jason is fucking idiot because they were decidedly not getting high in the woods. He leaves with an eighth of marijuana and  no closer to five thousand dollars because Steve had just shrugged like, “Okay? Go ahead. Tell him.”
(3.)
Richie does not participate in this because he actually wants to improve his relationship with his little brother and he was the first person Steve went to after they got Eddie, barely breathing, to the hospital. He saw how shaken up he was and he also saw the bruising around Steve’s neck.
He knows what the bruising looks like. He knows how people gets bruises like that. And he knows that he’s a coward because he could not bring himself to ask a question he did not want the answer to. And he knows Eddie Munson.
Eddie is harmless.
All you have to do is have one conversation with the kid and you’ll see that he couldn't hurt a fly. Richie, however, had many conversations with him when Harrington & Associates took his case on pro bono so he knows just how harmless Eddie is.
He also knows that Eddie spends a lot of time trying to make Steve laugh. Richie has spent enough time in his life making his brother miserable. He's not doing anymore.
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catiuskaa · 10 months ago
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missed me, missed me, now you gotta...
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SUMMARY: minho wasn’t grumpy, nor he was jealous. but he hasn’t been the same ever since he fell in love with you.
REQUESTED! by a sweet annonie right here. pookie, your idea was lovely to write! lil grumpy minho, im melting… it’s a bit short, but I hope you like it! <3
CW: use of (crack) text messages to convey the plot, starring: han quokka as cupid + reader’s bsf, clingy minho as king of my heart, and ngl, type 1 diabetes fluff ahead. keep insulin shots close just in case! lol
WC: 1.1k
A/N: i love how i’m slowly turning into a minho blog/page lmaoo, only minho: the man, the myth, the legend!
[🪻☆🌫️☆🪻]
The same ringtone buzzed again during rehearsals. Its ding had sounded so many times already that it had started to get repetitive really quickly.
Minho frowned as he looked in the mirror, retouching his rolled sleeves just once more for what he secretly knew it had been more than twenty times. In the span of ten minutes. Maybe even less.
But Minho wasn’t ‘grumpy’.
He so wasn’t.
His day had been normal so far. He had no reason to be grumpy. Not one what-so-ever.
He had woken up in between your arms, and even if he had ‘complained’ about it, he loved being the little spoon. And also, his cats jumped on the bed and, just for once, none of them landed on his face.
There had been just one thing.
Well. Technically more than one.
You had rushed outside this morning. You claimed you didn’t have time to have breakfast with him, because you were late for something he didn’t really get. Because of that, you hadn’t come over to the JYP building with him. He had to drive over alone. And you hadn’t pecked him goodbye at the entrance like always.
But he. Wasn’t. Grumpy.
Not. At. All.
> sunggie: girl, did you hide his cats or smth?
< minho’s owner: lol, wdym dude?
> sunggie: he looks like he’s going to kill me.
> sunggie: And he loves me! Wtf??
“Jisung-ah.”
Han shrieked in his place in the sofa, his phone almost falling off his hands. He quickly turned it off, hoping that the grumpy dancer hadn’t seen the old or new messages.
“Who were you texting?” Minho frowned, deeper this time.
“Oh.” Jisung chuckled. “Just checking in on noona.”
“My girlfriend?” The way Minho enunciated the title felt a bit possesive. Jisung eyed at him weirdly for a second. Even he felt weird himself.
Jisung nodded sheepishly, turning his phone back on but quickly opening a random app.
“Yeah. I owed her a call back.” He shrugged, nonchalantly accepting that he had opened Subway Surfers, and started to play.
As the catchy music came from Han’s phone, Minho shook his head.
Not grumpy.
Not at all.
But the thought that you had been texting Han and didn’t text him —instead of him— did funny things in his chest.
Now, keep in mind that Minho would never describe himself as a jealous man.
He trusted you with his cats, of course he trusted you regarding your relationship. But he had barely got a hold of you all day. And Han had. By call and text. Like he was doing now.
Not grumpy.
Sure.
< minho’s owner: you dead yet?
Jisung groaned.
> sunggie: no! you made me lose my score!
> sunggie: and I don’t have any keys! ㅠㅠ
< minho’s owner: sucks to suck, lol
< minho’s owner: but what’s wrong with my future husband? did you do something?
> sunggie: he’s moody since he came in this morning.
> sunggie: you weren’t here tho. smth wrong between ya?
< minho’s owner: no…? just had to run to work early…
And then, something in Jisung’s paboracha brain connected. Probably because of how he had named your contact in his phone.
> sunggie: omg
< minho’s owner: what?
> sunggie: that corny dumbass
> sunggie: he’s so stupid
< minho’s owner: bitch what is it???
> sunggie: he’s moody bc u didn’t come in with him today!
You hesitated. Could that be it?
< minho’s owner: really? u think so?
> sunggie: bitch I know so!
> sunggie: imma go get boba for the boys, get your ass here and come w/ me
Jisung’s brain started to work at cupid’s speed.
< minho’s owner: omw. be there in 5’
“Guys, I’m gonna go get boba. Do any of you want something?”
The rest of the gang blabbered something while some kept going over the steps of the choreography and the others rested on the couch, doozing off or on their phones. Han quickly noted down everyone’s orders, not before being squinted down by Minho. He held back a shiver.
“Clingy prick…” Jisung mumbled, leaving quickly.
He walked out of the JYP building, waiving and half bowing to the staff members and other artists in the building.
< minho’s owner: just parked! ^^
Jisung entered the boba place next to the building, smiling at the cashier as he read down the orders on his note app, and stood aside, waiting for the drinks.
“Hey!” You smiled widely at him, taking off your scarf, merely leaving it hanging on your shoulders. He clapped your hand, playfully slapping your back.
“Working hard?” Jisung snickered, pointing at the bag on your other hand.
You side-eyed at him, giggling softly.
“Took some snacks before heading off.” You shrugged. “We can sneak these in, right?”
Jisung scratched the back of his neck. “We’ll… come up with something.”
You both struggled carrying the drinks, teasing each other and betting who’d make a mess first. But all giggles came to an end when the security guard stared at you.
“Name and business?” He asked in a low huff.
Your body stiffened.
“She’s my sister,” Han chimed back. You were in fact far from being his sister, but that didn’t matter when the guard seemed to nod. “She’s just helping me carry the drinks inside.”
“And the bag? What’s inside?”
You cleared your throat, smiling. “Clothes for him to change once he finishes training.” You lied.
Thank God for his imagination. And for his stupid idea of shoving your scarf and his hoodie into the bag of snacks.
“Ok. You may come in.” The guard smiled politely.
Only after the both of you had gotten into the elevator you allowed yourselves to let out a sight full of relief. You two then smirked, high-fiving.
“Thank you, bro.” You teased in a snicker.
He cackled. “You’re welcome, sis.”
You both laughed and joked until you reached the training room.
“The person you dream of is back!” Han cackled.
“Noona!” Felix grinned happily.
“Yeah, that’s me!” You cackled at Jisung’s faked frown.
You smiled and greeted everyone as you entered, leaving a certain bunny boy for last.
You sat next to him on the couch, and without missing a beat, he took your legs and layed them on his lap.
You took a sip of his drink, and he stared at you, almost with a squint.
“You’ve made me jealous of fucking Han Jisung.” He stated matter-o-factly, making you practically choke on the tapioka pearls.
You coughed. “What?”
“You texted him all evening. And me? Not even a good luck kiss this morning.”
“Aw, are you grumpy, kitten?” You grinned teasingly, speaking only towards him in a soft tone to his ear. You pecked his cheek.
He needed more of those.
Grumpy, huh?
“Yes. Very.” He mumbled, hiding his blushed and pleased grin in the crook of your neck. “Need more kisses.”
“Well, you know how it goes.” You mumbled in a snicker. He hummed at you, waiting for you to explain.
You kissed his forehead softly, his hands stroking your thighs.
“Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me.”
~Kats, who can write this in one sit, but can’t figure out how chemistry works (yes have exams, why did I choose this for myself, help)
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