#changing it a bit from “open starter” to just a starter

[veiledfox]

Open Please (Artig - me, looking for a reason 2 make him and Ren interact tbh) (maybe this will be it <333)

"Open Please" For me to write a starter

There's a soft sigh from the bronze-haired man as he walks the sidewalk, his arms crossed with a small shopping bag hanging from the hand tucked under his one arm. "For all the praise Axel gives this Realm, it's not all that different from our own." Speaking to himself, aloud, though in a somewhat hushed tone and volume. "Sure, there's definitely a lack of Mythos presence, but even I can sense there's more than just Humans here. It's subtle, but it's certainly present. Though, of course, none of these Humans can sense it..."

Taking a brief glance around at those surrounding him going about their own ways on the street. After which he closes his eyes, letting his head hang forward with a soft sigh. Stopping in place, shifting his weight to one foot to tap the other a bit in thought. "What to do for the rest of the day...?"

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

We had one of Steff's comedian friends staying with us on the weekend, lovely lad called Sam from Singapore. He had never been to Wales before, and he requested that we take him to a Welsh restaurant so he could try Welsh food

That's surprisingly difficult, actually. Like a lot of Welsh culture, our culinary traditions have not exactly been applauded over the years, so you don't really see them. But a lucky Google search revealed a brand new one has just opened in SA1 called the Welsh House, so great! Away we went.

Fuck me, they went all in.

It wasn't just the menu (though fuck me, what a menu - one of their 'for the table to share' options was little mini leek and cheddar Welsh cakes with salted butter and they were paralysingly good). It wasn't just that every alcohol was Welsh, even including the wine (surprisingly good btw, called 'Naturiol'.)

The table centerpieces were daffodils. All signs for the toilets were Welsh only. The walls had photos of Wales, modern and historical; the windows had the fleur de lis; the specials board (pork belly in Welsh cider and damson sauce with honey and wild garlic glazed carrots) had dragons on. I realise this is probably normal for country-themed restaurants, but I've never been to one for Wales before.

But the best bit, see, was the music

I clocked, when we walked in, that they were playing If You Tolerate This Then Your Children Will Be Next by the Manic Street Preachers (you always clock the Manics). Ah, I thought. A Welsh song! In a Welsh restaurant! Ho ho ho.

As they seated us, it became What's New Pussycat. Ah! I thought. Another Welsh song! Fu fu fu.

Then they played Monster by the Automatic and I was like my god are they only playing Welsh music?? That's so cool! What an eclectic mix that's going to be. We should suggest to them they should look into Welsh language music too, really mix it up.

And then they played Anrheoli by Yws Gwynedd and lads, Steff and I lost our shit. We lost our fucking shit. Sam's sitting there, utterly bewildered. The staff are nervously edging away from us. We don't care. It's the first time I have ever heard a Welsh language song played outside of a Welsh language setting. We're so excited.

"They're playing Welsh music!!!" says Steff. "Holy shit!!!"

"Imagine if they played Sebona Fi!" I say, humorously.

"Nah," says Steff. "You can't in a restaurant. There'd be a riot, it's faerie music."

"...what?" says Sam

We explain the cultural phenomenon that is Sebona Fi. The song changes: Primadonna Girl, by Marina and the Diamonds.

"She's Welsh??" says Sam.

"She's from Abergavenny!" we beam.

"I don't know what that means," nods Sam, who is from Singapore.

Next: The Bartender and the Thief, by the Stereophonics. We're in high spirits. The extraordinarily Welsh wine arrives, as does the rarebit on sourdough starter. Sam, a gay man, delightedly orders the faggots and peas.

They play Ben Rhys by Gwilym Bowen Rhys, and we lose our shit again. Sam is now used to this, because comedians are adaptable. "They even have daffodils!" I say, misty eyed. "Is that relevant?" Sam asks, fascinated.

They play Hiraeth, by PLU. Hard to explain that one. Very hard to explain the effect it has when it's played in a restaurant, but Sam looks around the suddenly muted room and whispers "Are we in church?"

"It's about Hiraeth," whispers Steff. "So kind of."

Next: the Masses Against the Classes, by the Manics. Utter tonal whiplash. This playlist is not remotely restaurant appropriate. It's perfect.

"You'd think they'd pick like... a genre," Sam says dreamily. "We just went from church to the barricades."

The faggots arrive. "I forgot it would be a western sized portion," Sam says morosely, of what to me is a normal sized plate of food. He tries one, and brightens.

They play Sebona Fi.

The place erupts.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

♡ gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Miya twins ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[barcaatthemoon]

in your corner || barcelona x teen!reader ||

the team shows up to your graduation when your parents don't.

it didn't feel right sitting in the back of a taxi. you should have been riding to your graduation with your family, but they had deemed your brother's track meet more important. they believed that one day, he'd be an olympian, despite the fact that you already were. it had always been like that in your family though, your brother's accomplishments outshining yours no matter the difference.

today, you graduated from school, which you had attended while also easing your way into soccer full time. anybody else would have thought that was a marvel in and of itself except for your parents. because it was you, they only questioned why you weren't top of your class. any bit of excellence on your part looked like the pinnacle of mediocracy in your parents' eyes.

in hindsight, yelling at them to just forget about you was not your best idea. it was why after this, you were packing up your things and moving them into a new apartment. there had been an opening in bruna's building, so you took it. you could easily afford the apartment with your salary at the club, especially not that you'd be getting starter time.

the taxi came to a stop, and you were careful in picking your facial expression for the day. this was a happy day, and you couldn't let your peers know how disappointed you were about your parents abandoning you. you kept a happy face on during the ceremony, one that was fake until you looked out into the crowd while you accepted your diploma to see your teammates.

it was unmistakablely every single one of them sitting there, including girls who you had briefly played with on the b and youth teams. your heart swelled with joy, and for the first time that day, your tears were happy ones. suddenly, you couldn't wait for the ceremony to end so you could go see them. each of those girls had become like family for you, and it was your first taste of what family was supposed to be like. they were your support system, always cheering you on no matter what endeavor you pursued.

"no more homework!" mapi exclaimed as she scooped you up into a hug. you laughed as she spun you around and around. her least favorite part of every practice was when alexia made you sit with vicky while you studied or finished up your school work. in mapi's mind, that was always during prime goofing off time. "come on, my mami wants pictures."

you let yourself get pushed around for several sets of pictures with your teammates. none of them mentioned the absence of your parents, most likely thanks to a briefing from alexia and patri. slowly, they all began to shuffle out and disperse, leaving you to catch a ride with aitana and keira for lunch. it was a team thing, so more of the girls would be there, but keira had quickly claimed the spot to drive you there.

"i'm proud of you kiddo," keira said as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders. there had been a lot of changes during the season, and while the change scared you, keira had been like your rock. she was the biggest help to you learning english and solidifying your spot in one of the best midfields in the world. "i've got a surprise for you when we get to the restaurant."

"a surprise?" you perked up instantly. it was somewhat childish, but you loved surprises. usually, they were good when it came to your teammates. you knew that keira would never do anything to hurt you, having taken you under her wing like you were her child. both of your english teammates had, but lucy had departed from spain a couple weeks ago.

you had been more than a bit bummed out by the news, but you understood. lucy had done what she felt she needed to at barcelona. you were also going to be on your way out temporarily. you had spoken with your coaches and management about going to college, and they had signed off on you taking a gap year to play the next season before you went off to america. you were committed to a school, but you had yet to tell your teammates which one.

lunch was nice, despite the fact that you couldn't focus because you kept trying to figure out what keira's surprise was. it wasn't until you noticed several of your teammates filming you that you got a bit nervous. luckily, you didn't have to wait too long after the cameras were brought out. alexia mentioned something about dessert, and when you turned around expecting to see the waiter, you saw lucy standing there in a tarheels shirt.

"i didn't tell anybody," you mumbled, unaware of how they could have known where you were going.

"sorry that i missed your graduation, but i'm so proud of you. i can't wait to watch you next year in carolina," lucy said as she wrapped one arm around you. the little plate with a slice of cake was set in front of you, but you didn't pay it any mind. you wrapped your arms around lucy's body in a tight hug. "score some goals for me, okay?"

"i'll try for more than what i score against you." everybody at the table laughed at your joke, except for lucy, who knew that you were serious. she could be the best in the world, and you'd still managed to get one or two past her. the whole team would work to make sure that you did. they wanted the world to know how good you were, which lucy knew would make for an interesting champion's league with her new team.

"we'll see about that," lucy mumbled as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. you glanced around you at your teammates and friends surrounding you. it was the happiest that you'd ever been, but something told you that there was only going to be more to come with them in your life.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Ego check

Word count: 803

Pairing: lando Norris x reader

Summary: At a crowded party, you challenge Lando Norris's inflated ego by advising him on how to engage genuinely

My request are open

________________________________________________________

Just as you were about to retreat to a quieter corner, a guy slid up next to you, a cocky smirk already plastered on his face. His dark brown hair was tousled in that "I didn't try, but I totally did" way, and he carried himself with an air of entitlement that you could sense from a mile away.

"You must know who I am," he said without so much as a hello.

You blinked at him, unimpressed, and took another sip of your drink. "Should I?" you replied, your voice calm but pointed.

His smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Lando. Lando Norris. I race in Formula 1."

You shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "That's nice."

He stared at you like you had just spoken in a foreign language. "You don’t know who I am? Lando Norris? F1 driver?" He leaned in closer as if trying to figure out if you were messing with him.

You tilted your head slightly, keeping your cool. "I heard you the first time. Just not sure why I should care."

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. His ego was massive, and you could tell he was used to people fawning over him, especially at events like this. But you weren’t interested in that kind of attitude. You liked funny, genuine people—not guys who thought their fame gave them a free pass to be arrogant.

"You know," you said, setting your drink down on the bar, "if you want people to like you, you might want to try being a little less full of yourself. The whole 'do you know who I am' thing? Not cute."

He stared at you, speechless for a moment, clearly not used to being spoken to like that. But instead of getting defensive or annoyed, something in his expression changed. It was subtle at first—his posture relaxed a little, the smirk faded, and his eyes softened as he studied you.

"Okay," he said after a beat, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What should I say, then?"

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden shift in attitude. "Well, for starters, you could try saying 'Hi, I’m Lando. What’s your name?' You know, like a normal person."

He let out a short laugh, and you could tell the arrogance was melting away. "Hi," he said, still grinning but in a way that felt more real this time. "I’m Lando. What’s your name?"

You smiled back, feeling a little bit of your initial annoyance fade. "That’s better. I’m Y/n."

The conversation shifted after that. Lando dropped the cocky attitude, and instead of talking about himself, he started asking about you—your interests, what brought you to the party, and what you liked to do for fun. He cracked a few jokes, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected to.

It was almost like you had flipped a switch in him. The arrogance that had initially repelled you had given way to something softer, more genuine. He started to talk about his passion for racing in a way that wasn’t about impressing you, but about sharing something he loved.

And as the night went on, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on you when you spoke, how his laugh was a little louder at your jokes, how he seemed to genuinely enjoy your company.

By the time you were getting ready to leave, Lando looked at you with an intensity that hadn’t been there before.

"You know," he said, leaning against the bar, "I think you’re the first person in a long time who hasn’t cared who I am. It’s kind of refreshing."

You smiled, grabbing your bag. "That’s because I care more about who people are, not what they do."

Lando ran a hand through his hair, looking a little flustered for the first time all night. "I think I could get used to that. Would it be too forward if I asked to see you again?"

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth in your chest as you looked at him, no longer the arrogant guy who had first approached you but someone you might actually want to get to know.

"I guess we’ll see," you said with a grin before turning to leave.

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice Lando watching you, looking completely smitten.

[tropes-and-tales]

You Talk Too Much

(From the "Shut Up" kiss starter prompts, found here)

CW:  Richie being Richie, swearing.

Word Count:  1740

AN:  Requested by @winchestershiresauce

You don’t smoke, but it doesn’t stop you from escaping out the back door of The Beef near the end of shift to catch your breath and relax.  There’s only a few lingering customers out front, and  you are exhausted and frazzled.

It’s quiet out back.  You love your job—really, you do—but it can be a lot.  A lot.  It’s loud and hectic and a million things happen at once.  Sometimes the chaos of the day is just limited to the customers flowing through for classic Chicago fare.  Sometimes the chaos is more, well, chaotic:  a burst pipe, a failed health inspection, an impromptu Ball-Breaker tournament to help breakeven for the week.

You love your job.  You love The Beef, and you love your coworkers, but sometimes you need quiet.

The neighborhood mellows out at night, at least in the little nook behind the restaurant.  The noise of the city—the traffic, the sirens, the wind off the river and lake—falls away to a murmur, background noise that builds and then breaks over you in gentle waves.  You sit on an overturned milk crate and pull your knees up, wrap your arms around your knees.  You lean back against the brick wall and shut your eyes.  You breathe deep, steadying breaths and feel your heartbeat calm.  Hours and hours of chaos, and now you can throttle down a bit.

It lasts all of a minute.

You hear the door squeal open on its hinges, then hear it slam shut a moment later.  You don’t bother to open your eyes; you can guess who it is.

A beat later, someone settles onto another milk crate beside you with a grunt.  You hear the ritual sounds of a veteran smoker:  the shaking of a soft pack, the quiet snick of the lighter, the first harsh inhale, the pleased sigh as the nicotine hits the bloodstream.

Richie.  The Beef’s resident asshole.  The utter bane of your existence when you started months ago.  He had bullied you relentlessly, a hazing that extended beyond gentle workplace pranking.  Richie, you came to find out, hates change, and you came into his life in the midst of immense change.

The loss of his best friend who was more like a brother.

The loss of his family when his wife divorced him.

The loss of his restaurant, his beloved dysfunctional sandwich shop as Carmy slowly started to change the system.

But as the months passed, Richie softened towards you.  You proved too stubborn to give in to his bullying, and at some point, you became part of the landscape of The Beef.  You became part of the family, and Richie eased off the bullying. 

His teasing turned sweeter, almost:  he calls you sweetheart now, sometimes babe, and when he needs to get past you in the tight quarters of the restaurant, he lays a light hand on your shoulder or your back as he squeezes past you.

Then came the stories.  When it’s quiet, when the doors aren’t open yet and you’re just prepping for the day, Richie regales you with stories.  So many stories.  Stories about his time at West Lawrence Avenue.  Stories about tearing up the town with Mikey.  Stories about the Goddess of Agriculture and Bill Murray.  Richie always leans in close and tells you these stories, often repeating tales you’ve already heard, but just as you never confronted him about the bullying, you never confront him about his repetitious storytelling.

Richie, you guess, is a complicated man.  A man with a lot of feelings who perhaps doesn’t know how to express them.  From the caustic bully sneering at you about disrupting the “delicate ecosystem” of The Beef… to the smiling charmer as he regales you with his Bill Murray story.

You open your eyes enough to squint and confirm that it’s Richie sitting beside you, as if the scent of his cologne isn’t confirmation enough.  But it’s him.  Visual confirmation obtained.  You take in his lanky form neatly folded to fit on the milk crate, one leg kicked out straight and the other folded up near his chest.  His profile illuminated by the flickering light near the dumpsters. 

The man isn’t entirely unappealing.  Once you get past the crusty layers of asshole behavior, the sarcasm and inferiority complex and refusal to feel his feelings, he’s actually a good man.  Loyal to a fault.  Loving father.  The sort of man to assemble his own family of friends and misfits, who then defends that family to the death.

But too chatty sometimes.  Like now.

Because after the first deep drag of his cigarette, he starts talking.  “I ever tell you about the time me and Mikey were at Ceres?”

You bite the inside of your mouth to stop from smiling.  “Yeah, you did.”

“Place was packed with Blackhawk fans—”

“Because Denis Savard just got inducted into the hockey hall of fame,” you fill in for him.

“Chelios was there,” he continues, like he hasn’t even heard you.  “I mean, the place was fucking packed—”

On he goes.  On and on and on.  The quiet lull of the city noise falls away and all you can focus on is Richie’s voice, the cigarette husky quality of it, and you like his voice, you love his stories because he loves telling them, but you just want quiet right now.

“Richie—”

“And I feel this tap on my shoulder—”

“Rich—”

“And it’s Bill fucking Murray!  And he’s like—”

“Richie, c’mon—”

“He’s like, ‘what are you doing?’  And I tell him, I say—”

You don’t know why you snap.  The man literally made your life a living hell when you started at the restaurant, but you never once snapped.  Never fought back, only shrugged and let the insults roll of your back.  You don’t know why you snap now, and you don’t know quite why you snap the way you do.

Because you don’t yell at him or smack him.  Richie goes on and on with his story, his face lit up at the happy memory he shared with Mikey, and he’s gesturing with his hands, his half-burnt cigarette forgotten as he talks and glances at you to see if you’re listening, if you’re impressed with his story, and maybe that’s what makes you snap.  Maybe you have a sudden revelation, like a lightning bolt out of the sky.

Maybe Richie keeps telling you these stories because he wants to impress you.  Maybe his close-talking, his mild pet names for you, his light touches as he walks past you…maybe you understand it all in a split second.  Maybe it took a mild Chicago night, a quiet moment out back broken by this man who glances at you shyly to see how his story is landing.

So you snap.  You reach out one hand and gather a fistful of his navy blue t-shirt, and you haul him halfway to you.  You meet him the rest of the way, and the man is still talking when you kiss him.  It happens that fast.

Which makes the kiss awkward for a split second.  You’ve caught him unawares, mid-sentence, and your mouth stills his words.  He freezes for the split second it takes him to catch up to what’s happening, but then he kisses you back.  He tastes like cigarettes, and beneath that you can taste vanilla, and you smile because you can guess that he’d been sneaking into Marcus’s area and helping himself to the cakes Marcus had been working on all day.

But it’s quiet again.  You’ve stoppered Richie’s words, and the earlier calm would fall over you if your heart wasn’t hammering in your chest at what you’ve done.

It’s Richie who breaks the kiss.  After a long beat of silence, a long moment of your mouth on his, the shyest bit of deepening the kiss—opening your mouth against his, breathing him in, but not any further than that.  He breaks the kiss but doesn’t move very far from you, and when you look at him, you can see his bright blue eyes staring at you.

“What, uh…”  He clears his throat in that embarrassed way he has.  “What was that for?”

“You talk too much,” you tell him.

“Thought you liked my stories.”

“I do.  Ninety percent of the time, I love your stories.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“I just wanted a bit of quiet.  It was a long day.”

You release your grip on his shirt, and you see where you’ve stretched the fabric.  You try to smooth it out, run your hand over his upper chest where you grabbed him, and the gesture makes him huff out a heavy breath.  The realization of what you’ve done washes over you, and suddenly you feel horrified.  It would have been less embarrassing to have snapped at him all those months ago, slapped him or yelled in his face.  Instead, you kissed him, and now he’s staring at you with those blue eyes…

“Sorry,” you mutter.  “I shouldn’t have—”

He’s gentler when he stills your words with his mouth.  He doesn’t haul you to him by your shirt; instead, he wraps a gentle hand around the back of your neck and steadies you as he leans in.  As he kisses you.  His lips are soft against yours—it’s the softest kiss you’ve ever received in your life, and from someone like Richie Jerimovich who stumbles through his own life like a bull in a china shop.  Who knew he could be so careful? 

You break the second kiss, and you try to find some words—to finish your apology to him, to say something cool or funny to break the spell of the moment—but Richie hushes you.  He doesn’t let you get any more words out, and he pulls you closer to him.  He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him, and then you feel him press a kiss against the top of your head as he tucks you against him.

“Don’t say anything,” he tells you in his low voice.  “Let’s just have a bit of quiet, then.”

The two of you sit in silence, letting the sounds of the city fill in the quiet between you.  Except for your own heart, hammering in your ears.  And except for Richie’s heart, beating right under your ear in the same, excited cadence.

[lovebugism]

Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]

summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies

You never did crack open that bottle.

The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.

There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.

Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.

Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face. 

He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.

“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”

“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”

You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”

Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”

He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.

“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”

You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.

“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”

“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.

You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”

“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’

You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.

Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”

“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand. 

“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”

“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.

The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”

You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”

Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”

“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.

Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”

“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”

“You couldn’t,” he insists.

You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”

Eddie grins. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo.

“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands. 

He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.

Except you.

“Whaddaya got?”

“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch. 

Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.

“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.

“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.

Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”

“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”

“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”

—————

You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later. 

The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…

Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.

You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…

“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”

Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”

“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”

Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.

“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”

Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”

Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.

“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”

Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown. 

Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her. 

“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”

The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.

“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.

Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”

She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.

Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.

“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.

“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”

You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices. 

Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.

You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.

“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.

“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.

You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can’t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”

You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.

“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.

You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”

“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”

Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.

Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”

“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.

He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”

“Two of them?”

The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.

Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”

Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh. 

You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.

Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”

The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life. 

“I think I’m gonna—”

“Well, I should—”

The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.

“You first,” you tell him.

“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking. 

His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.

“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”

Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go. 

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”

“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”

You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”

“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”

He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.

Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.

You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”

“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.

You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”

And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place. 

How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?

You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.

“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.

“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.

“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”

“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.

His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.

You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year. 

Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.

Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.

With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.

“Good night, Eddie.”

[glykera]

Open starter

(Tw ptsd, panic attacks, sa, abuse, alcohol.)

Of course, cabin 12 had been able to find themselves booze. Of course, they were throwing a party with kids from almost every cabin. And of course, some of the kids asked her to be a glorified maid for the party, knowing she likely wouldn't protest.

Glykera looked absolutely shaken. She didn't even look fully here. One of the drunken campers had tried flirting with her and was standing a bit too close to her. So far, they were only talking to her. But that didn't change the terror she felt.

This place was far too similar to where she used to live. The party was just like the ones her master would throw. And those guests... those guests were pigs. She couldn't tell if this was the Dionysos cabin or if it was her old home. If these were campers or those old guests.

Tag list:

@the-gods-abandoned-us

@arisdaughter

@mache-of-greece

@demigod-jack-hearth

@unhinged-waterlilly

@kaiaalwayswins

@daredevil-shit

@amaiahunterofartemis

@yourlocalfallenstar

@son-of-the-moonlight

@luci-likes-dinoss

@elixs-mythology-corner

@bast-the-best26

@emdabitchass

@if-chaos-was-a-boy

@luck-is-crucial

@elionandaerith

@love-lightning-forethought @the-prince-telemachus @pink-koi-lovejoy @fire-boy-official @apollos-favorite-child @ariathemortal @cass-sees-the-future @reyna4ever

[g-hughes]

maybe kinda like a part two of the quinn fic where she gets even closer to his brothers and family and quinn is just watching as the most important people in his life all fit together so well

Yours Forever - Q. Hughes

part 1 || masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: it's the 2nd annual Hughes Bowl, and Quinn gets a glimpse at what his future is going to look like

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none!

It was the eve before the second annual “Hughes Bowl'' and you were in a panic. Quinn had gone to the airport to pick up his parents, who made the trek across the continent to watch all three of their boys play together. It must’ve been such a surreal feeling for them, watching their sons on the ice, years of hard work and dedication paying off. From what you had gathered, Ellen and Jim were the Hughes boys’ biggest fans, and would try to make as many games as they could. And if they couldn’t make a game, they were always calling Quinn either right after or the next day to talk about it. 

“Are you sure that the couch looks okay against-” 

“Yes, for the tenth time, yes it looks fine against the wall,” Quinn said as you facetimed him. 

“Do not yell at me, Quintin, I am nervous,” You scolded and Quinn let out a laugh. Ellen and Jim haven’t been to your new apartment that you shared with Quinn. You were nervous for them to be staying with you. What if they didn’t approve of it? What if they hated your decorating skills? What if you weren’t a good homemaker? “Oh my god, I should’ve baked like cookies or something.” 

“You? Bake?” Quinn chuckled again, “Yeah and pigs can fly.” 

“Quinn,” You whined, “I want to make a good impression. This isn’t like going to the lake house or anything. This is our house.” 

Quinn smiled as the word ‘our’ fell from your lips. Almost as soon as the summer ended, he asked you to move in with him, and you, of course, said yes. But Quinn didn’t just want you to move into his apartment, for starters, it was a total man cave, with minimal decorations, one set of silverware he bought at target, and the standard blinds that came with the place. He wanted to get something that was going to be comfortable for you, and close to your work. So the two of you picked out a beautiful apartment in a small village area of Vancouver, it was close to your work, and felt like the two of you could have some privacy. 

“Baby,” Quinn said sincerely, “You have already made the best impression on them. They love you, and nothing is going to change that. . . well maybe your abysmal baking skills,” You giggled, “So please stop stressing. It’s going to be okay.”

You let out a breath and looked around the living room, “I guess you’re right.” 

“I know I am,” Quinn winked at you, “But I gotta go. They just landed. Oh! And the boys should be over soon.” 

“Boys?” You asked, your eyebrows knitting in confusion. 

“Yeah, Jack and Luke are on their way over.” 

“Quinn!” 

“Bye, Love you!” 

You groaned, as the line went dead and you were left glaring at your lock screen of your boyfriend. Though you spent the whole summer with the Hughes brothers, you still felt a bit awkward around them. Every time you tried to get to know them a little bit better, one of their friends was whisking them away to partake in some event. You were cordial toward them, but you weren’t sure what you were going to do to entertain them until Quinn and their parents got home. Hell, you weren’t sure what you were going to feed them until Quinn and their parents got home. 

You couldn’t ponder the question long, as there was a knock on your front door. You smoothed the fabric of your clothes and fixed your hair before opening the door, revealing a smiling Jack and a somewhat smiling Luke. 

“Hey!” You greeted, “Come in! Welcome.” 

The boys lumbered in, taking in the place. “Well, it's obvious Quinn wasn’t allowed to decorate,” Luke joked. 

“Yeah,” You chuckled, “As much as I love Gretzky, I didn’t need a life size portrait of him in my living room.” 

“Oh, I bet Quinn was just devastated,” Jack feigned. 

“Cried for days,” You shook your head, a mock pout on your lips. The boys both chuckled at your response and settled in on the couch. You felt a sense of ease wash over you, a smile tugging at your lips. 

— — — 

Quinn leaned against the passenger side of his jeep, his black yankees cap pulled down low on his head to hopefully hide himself from fans as he waited for his parents. Not that he usually gets ambushed in public, but sometimes he was asked for a picture or to sign an autograph or two. Normally, he wouldn’t mind it, but tonight, he just wanted to get his parents and get back home to his girl and his brothers. He didn’t get a lot of downtime throughout the season to see them, so he was going to take advantage of all the time he could get. 

“Quinny,” His mom’s voice called out to him as they walked out of the airport. He smiled and greeted his parents with a hug, “Where’s Y/N?” 

“Nice to see you too, Mom,” Quinn scoffed, “She’s at the apartment. Jack and Luke are there too.” 

“Oh good,” Ellen smiled, and settled in the backseat so Jim could sit up front with his son, “How are things going? Liking the new place?” 

Quinn nodded his head, “Everything is going great, and yeah we really like it. There’s some nice trails and a park nearby. We try to go on walks every morning together.” 

“And?” Ellen asked. 

“And?” Quinn asked back, “And everything is good. Y/N just got a promotion at work, her hours are more flexible. We’ve even been looking at adopting a cat, Y/N says she needs a friend when I’m gone on roadies.” Quinn was not a cat person, not even in the slightest, but seeing the way your eyes light up as you showed him the adoptable cats on the city shelter page made his heart flutter. 

“And?” Ellen asked, once again. 

“And what, Mom?” Quinn shook his head, “Everything is good.” 

“She wants to know when you’re going to propose,” Jim said, filling in the blank that Ellen had left. 

“Oh,” Quinn blushed. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes darted to the glove box, “I uh. . . I might’ve bought a ring a couple weeks ago.” 

“Oh I knew it!” Ellen exclaimed, “Jack said you were asking him about what kind of ring styles Y/N would like.” 

Quinn rolled his eyes. He really needed to stop telling Jack things about his relationship. Jack was like his mom’s spy. 

“When are you going to do it?” Ellen asked, “How are you going to do it?” 

“I don’t know,” Quinn shrugged. 

He thought about waiting until the season was over, but it was only December, and he wasn’t sure he could wait that long without putting that ring on your finger. He also knew that neither one of you liked to be the center of attention, and a big proposal wasn’t what you would want. You guys had talked about it before, you wanted your proposal to be an intimate affair, and a small celebration afterwards with your family and friends. 

“Have you asked for permission?” Jim asked, “You have to ask for permission.” 

“Yeah I did,” Quinn nodded. He invited your dad, who was a lifelong Canucks fan, to a morning skate and then a chance to meet the guys afterward. Quinn had then taken him to a nearby brunch spot, where he had asked for his blessing to marry you. Your dad had never been a man to show his emotions, unless he was watching a hockey game, but he had teared up, and told Quinn that he was the only man he ever thought worthy of marrying his little girl. And those words made Quinn tear up too. 

“I’m so happy for you, Q,” Ellen leaned forward, putting her hand on his arm, “She’s a very special girl.” 

“I know, Mom,” Quinn looked over his shoulder briefly at her, “I’m lucky to have her.” 

Quinn pulled into his parking spot, grabbing his mom’s suitcase for her. The elevator ride was short up to their floor, Quinn talking about how the team was coming along this season. After last year’s historic turnaround and run in the playoffs, Quinn felt the pressure even more in his second season as captain. He needed to prove not only to his team, but to the city that last year wasn’t a fluke. That Canucks hockey was back, and Quinn was going to lead his team back to the playoffs and hopefully to the Cup. 

“Between Yogi and Krog, we’ve been working so hard on the powerplay,” Quinn shook his head, “It was our downfall last year in the second round, but I feel like we’ve really turned it around.” 

“I agree,” Jim nodded his head, “You guys look like a totally different crew when the power play comes around. Toch probably feels relieved to have someone else on that call.” 

“Yeah,” Quinn nodded as he neared his front door, pulling his key out, “Krog has been such a good addition. The guys really like him and-” 

“You fucking suck!” A loud curse came from the other side. He stared at the door for a moment before another loud yell came out, “I fucking hate you!” Quinn’s eyebrows arose in concern as he quickly unlocked his front door. 

“Hey! Everything al-” Quinn shouted as he walked into the apartment. 

“You two fucking cheated!” Jack exclaimed, jumping up from the couch, “You cheated! I know you did!” 

“How do you cheat in Mario Kart?” Luke asked, chuckling. 

“I don’t know! But she cheated!” Jack flopped down on the couch. 

“I’m sorry, Jacky, you just aren’t as good as you thought you were,” You laughed and a feeling of relief flooded Quinn’s body as the familiar sound of the video game filled the space. You looked over your shoulder, a bright smile on your face, “Oh hey!” Then your eyes widened as you noticed Ellen and Jim behind your boyfriend. You quickly jumped up from the couch, and made your way over to them, “Hey! Welcome to Vancouver.” 

You hugged them both, as Jack paused the video game and walked over to his family. 

“Thank you for inviting us,” Ellen beamed at you, “And kicking my son’s ass in Mario Kart.” 

“They ganged up on me!” Jack whined, “I was out numbered.” 

Quinn wrapped his arm around you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. You blushed and looked at him, “How was the drive?” 

“Not bad,” Quinn shrugged, “How were the heathens?” 

“Could’ve been worse,” You chuckled, “Could’ve been better if Jack didn’t suck at Mario Kart.” 

“Alright,” Jack slammed his hands down on the counter playfully, “Rematch. Right Now.” 

“Oh you’re on,” You jested, rushing over to the couch with Jack and Luke in tow. Quinn shook his head with a laugh, his heart feeling full as he watched you interact with his brothers. His brothers’ opinions had always mattered so much to him, so seeing you so casually fitting in with them, made Quinn even more sure of his decision. 

— — —

Quinn love hated playing against his brothers. He loved watching them out on the ice, playing a sport that they’ve all grown to love, chasing their childhood dreams. But he hated having to be the opponent, the enemy. He hated that only one of them was going to go home victorious and with bragging rights for the next couple of months until they played each other again. Quinn loved seeing the bright smiles on his younger brothers faces when the final buzzer would go off, but he hated the feeling of letting his team down. 

You waited by the locker room for Quinn, his mother and father already headed back to the apartment. They knew that the only one Quinn would want to be around or talk to after the loss was you. For years, Ellen and Jim had tried to be the ones who Quinn would talk to after losses, but they gave up once he was about 15. But you managed to crack that tough interior of Quinn Hughes. You gave him a sad smile as he walked out of the locker room, his hair still wet from his shower. You were a bit surprised to see him back in his suit, normally he would have traded it in for some sweatpants and a hoodie. 

“Hi,” You whispered to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers brushed over the red mark on his forehead from his helmet, “You did good.” 

“Not good enough,” He huffed, putting one of his hands on your hip, “We should’ve won,” Quinn shook his head, “But I’m happy the boys won.” 

“I know,” You said, “It sucks to lose, but I’m glad Jack and Luke got the win.” Quinn nodded his head, “C’mon, let’s go home.” 

“Wait,” He said, grabbing your hand, “I think I left my stick in the box. Come with me?” 

“Can’t you get it tomorrow?” Your eyebrows creased in confusion. 

“No!” Quinn said, quickly, “Uh no. The equipment guys want all the sticks accounted for the night after the game. They’re weird like that.” You nodded your head slowly, still suspicious of his motive, but agreed to follow him back towards the arena. 

The arena was dark, except for a single spot light in the middle of the ice on the Canucks logo, and the blue band lighting around the lower bowl. It was weird walking into the rink, and it being quiet, save for your footsteps on the concrete. You were so used to this place being loud and bursting with excitement, it was a nice change to see it like this. In the past year, Rogers Arena has felt like a second home, a safe space. 

“It’s weird seeing this place quiet,” You said, as you walked to the team bench, “I kind of like it.” 

“Then you’ll like this even more,” Quinn said, “C’mere.” He held his hand out, and you took it. There was a carpet laid out from the gate on the boards, to the center of the ice. 

You looked around, in awe at the sight before you, “This. . . is crazy,” You scoffed in disbelief, “I can’t even imagine what it is like twenty thousand people are yelling your name,” You cupped your hands around your mouth, whispering yelling, “Huggy Bear! Huggy Bear! Huggy Bear!” 

Quinn chuckled, reaching out to you and grabbing your hips, “It’s a pretty surreal feeling. Sometimes I can’t even believe that this is my life. That I’m really in the NHL, and I’m really living my childhood dream, playing against some of my childhood icons and-” 

“And beating them,” You winked. 

“And beating them,” Quinn added, “But I was going to say, and I get to do this with the love of my life by my side.” Your heart started beating faster, butterflies taking flight in your stomach as Quinn grabbed both of your hands in his, “Y/N L/N, from the moment you crashed into my life, literally,” You chuckled as tears started filling your eyes, “I knew that you were going to be it. I didn’t know I was missing something until you came into my life and it all just seemed to make sense. I felt complete. You made me feel complete.” 

At this point, both you and Quinn had tears in your eyes. He let go of your hand, as he got down on one knee, pulling out a small light blue box from his pocket. Your hands flew up to your mouth, as he opened the lid. 

“Y/N, will you please-” 

“Yes!” 

“I didn’t finish-” 

“I know, but yes!” You grabbed Quinn’s face in your hands, placing a tender, yet reassuring kiss on his lips. 

“But I have to finish asking you,” Quinn said. 

“Okay,” You nodded, standing back up, “Ask me.” 

“Y/N, will you marry-” 

“Yes!” Quinn chuckled, grabbing your left hand, and sliding the simple, yet beautiful ring on your finger. He stood up, as you threw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his. He stumbled for a moment, before wrapping his arms tightly around you. You leaned your forehead against his, “I love you.” 

“I love you,” You said, wiping away a stray tear from his face, “This is the best day ever.” 

“Just wait until we get to say ‘I Do’ for real,” Quinn pressed a quick kiss to your lips, “Now c’mon, Jack said he was getting us a cake to celebrate.” You smiled, as you took Quinn’s hand and walked off the ice. When you reached the locker room you froze. 

“Oh my god,” You gasped and Quinn looked at you in a panic. 

“What? What is it? What’s wrong? 

“Who’s going to be your best man?” You and Quinn both shared a look of momentary panic.

“They can play rock, paper, scissors for it.”

[pinknipszz]

POUND TOWN!

modern au, 18+, mdni pls

“sukuna,” you click your tongue, arms crossed over your chest as you stare at the tall, pink-haired man standing at your doorstep. he doesn’t look that different since you last saw him, wearing the same loose wife-beater tank top and grey sweatpants. your nose scrunches up when you catch a whiff of him, as if he can’t decide between cheap cologne, weed, or gym sweat. “what are you doing here?”

“got bored,” he deadpans, tilting his head slightly to catch a glimpse of your apartment through the gap, half-expecting a thing or two to look different. you only sigh and shake your head. sukuna has a strange habit of popping up out of nowhere, knocking on your door, stealing some food, and fooling around for a bit before disappearing for months. when you think sukuna is gone for good, he comes back. like a stray cat. 

you probably shouldn’t be taking in a stray so easily, especially one with claws, but how were you supposed to know that a simple conversation starter like “you smell like blue razz ice” would plant the seed of a beautiful friendship with the hottest plug in the city? it's a little unconventional but neither of you care. what irks you, though, is his shitty timing. “you can’t be here right now,” you say. “i’m busy with something.”

but instead of apologizing for disturbing your peace like any normal person, sukuna plants a foot against the door and pushes open with full-force. you yelp and jump back quickly before it slams against your face, but the drywall isn’t so lucky. you think you hear a loud crack. “what the hell is your–!” before you could finish, the bastard shoves past you and waltzes in like he owns the place. what a fucking bitch!

you lock the door, grumbling. seems like he hasn’t changed much in personality either. when you follow his trail and catch him digging through your fridge, you can’t bite back the sarcasm. “are you that much of a lousy deadbeat to go through girls’ apartments for food?” sukuna turns to flip you off before resuming his venture.

“i know you have more than fucking vegetables in here,” he scoffs, “where is the— gotcha.”

he pulls out your familiar container for leftovers. you don’t even remember what you cooked. it could’ve been weeks old, but sukuna clearly doesn’t have half the mind to care as he rips off the lid and eats with his free hand. “eugh. you’re disgusting,” rolling your eyes, you leave the kitchen and make your way towards the couch to continue your show. you doubt you’ll even enjoy yourself with him around, but whatever.

you won’t let that guy get to your head. just pretend he isn’t there. it's not that serious. the knots in your shoulders loosen when you lean back against the couch and reach for the remote to adjust the volume until sukuna’s shuffling is reduced to nothing but background noise. and it works for the most part. you don’t know how much time passes, maybe an hour or two, until you almost forget he's even there.

a heavy weight precariously plops beside you. cheap cologne, weed, gym sweat. they overwhelm your senses entirely. “breaking bad? is this some kind of joke? thought you said you were busy,” sukuna throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close. he doesn’t budge when you try to shove him away, so you resort to pinching his side instead, earning a sharp yelp from the young man. “obviously i am. and don’t get so full of yourself. you don’t even cook.”

he mutters a few words under his breath, probably something vile and venomous, but you couldn’t care less and revert your attention back to the tv. you've waited this long for the show's season finale, and you'll be damned if you let this bastard distract you. but sukuna thinks more with his dick than his brain, evident in the way that the hand on your shoulder slides down and finds your waist, rubbing small circles and squeezes tight on the meat of your flesh.

the episode continues, but you don’t even know what’s happening anymore. when you decide that it's futile to watch without any knowledge of what happened prior, you sigh inwardly and glance to your side. sukuna isn't even looking at the tv.scrolling through his phone, he looks bored and uninterested, as if there's a million other things he could be doing right now. but he’s here with you, holding you close, which is entirely unbecoming for a man like him.

your heart twinges. no, you scold yourself, not for him. anyone but him. sukuna is a stray cat that takes and takes and takes. a storm that wreaks havoc, leaves chaos and destruction in his wake before disappearing like mist. there’s always an underlying motive with him, one that forces you to pick apart his words and play detective for a mystery not worth divulging. 

“relax,” he tuts. but you can’t. not when his hand travels lower down your side, poking and prodding, teasing the waistband of your shorts. and when his fingertips finally melt into unmarred flesh, heat pools deep in your stomach. “sukuna,” comes his only warning. the man of the hour merely flashes a shit-eating grin before he grabs your jaw and presses his mouth to yours.

you taste the earth on his tongue. it’s sweet and smokey and slightly bitter. with a hint of fruit and leftovers from your fridge. strong arms wrap around you properly, holding you close, so close that his heart beats against your own. you kiss him back eagerly. sukuna’s hands move with intent, relearning parts of your body that were forgotten throughout your time apart. when he bites your lips raw, you whimper.

“i know baby, i know,” he hushes in between wet kisses. he pushes until your back hits the cushions underneath. sukuna climbs over and grabs your thighs with two strong hands, cock twitching in his pants at how your flesh spills between his fingers. he positions them over his shoulders and leans down for another a searing kiss. you’re smothered like this, rendered useless under the weight of him and your knees against the sides of your head, pushed far beyond a mating press.

you moan in his mouth when he grinds against you. “i know how much you miss me, miss my cock,” sukuna snarls out, jaw clenching with impatience as he tears through your shorts. the cold air slams against your cunt like a sledgehammer. the ceiling spins overhead. “i’m here, i’ll take care of you.” it’s a salacious promise that he seals with a tender kiss against your temple. you’re writhing, slurring his name as you blink blearily through the blood rushing to your head. he makes a show of pulling himself out of his pants.

sukuna runs a thumb over your folds before smearing the lewd concoction of slick and precum with the tip of his cock. the sight of your sopping hole is obscene, no doubt about it, but that hardly matters now. “put it in already,” you whine with tears collecting in your lashes, the position too taxing for your body. and for once, sukuna listens. he leans forward, groaning as he feeds inch after inch of his hard length into your aching hole. there’s a ring of pink stretched taut around him when he pulls back just slightly. you dig your painted nails in his bicep, squealing.

no matter how many times he’s fucked you, with three fingers or more, cock or toys, it always feels like the first time. “s–slow down–” comes a mewl from underneath him when he pushes in too eagerly. sukuna's eyes flit down to take in the sight of you, flushed out and gorgeous, and decides to tease your pitiful sensitivity. a loud moan is ripped from your throat when he pinches your clit. you try to squirm away.

“oh come on. quit pretending you don’t like it when i do that,” sukuna snickers, readjusting his grip on your plush waist before plunging in. hard. you wail at the motion, eyes fluttering close as the lines of your body arch up to meet him. when you’re like this, soft and pliant, sukuna pounds into you easily, molding your walls into the shape of his cock until your wet heat is nothing but a furnace for him to melt into. 

and then you feel his lips against your jaw, dry and chapped and dragging harshly. the rhythm he sets is nothing short of violent. your moans and his, ladened with the sounds of skin-on-skin, blend together in a filthy cacophony that you can hardly register over the thick scent of sex that leaves your head spinning. in between mindless thrusts, a pink tongue darts out to sample the sheen of sweat on your skin. you drool deliriously at the sensation.

then sukuna pulls back to watch you, your legs remaining in their rightful place over his shoulders. a hand travels down to where you are connected and collects your slick between two fingers. he smears it all over, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb against your clit before spreading your folds apart. “look at her,” he coos, grinning wickedly as he watches your greedy cunt swallow each sizable inch with each poignant snap of his hips. “what a delicious looking thing.”

“sukuna,” your lips fall open at the praise so invitingly that it’d be a crime not to take the opportunity. it’s a clash of teeth when he finally kisses you. sloppy and hungry and urgent, like a man who’s been starved for years. he drinks your moans and savors them, brushing against your tongue and gliding over the roof of your mouth, hips never ceasing their violent rhythm. when you realize the strange intimacy in this position, you feel the familiar, guttural sensation just beneath our gut.

and sukuna feels it too, the way your walls tighten around him. growling with newfound fervor, he leaves a string of spit when he pulls away to angle your hips and hammer against your cervix, eager to finish with you. screams echo across your apartment. he pants quietly, eyes ablaze and lips swollen from your incessant teeth. your body shivers and twitches from carnal ecstasy, addicted to the thick intrusion that nudges the deep bundle of nerves within you. a spot that only sukuna can reach.

the thought does something to you, because your body decides then to tense up against him, clamping hard around his perimeter and soaking his cock in squirt. although his hips stutter, sukuna doesn't relent and fucks through your tight walls. you cry out and hold him close, digging deep scores down the broad expanse of his back before sukuna finally empties himself with one last thrust. a full-body shudder racks through your body. the sensation tears a second orgasm from your twitching cunt.

through the ringing in your ears, you heave a sigh of content. your companion chuckles and collapses on top of you without bothering to pull out. “i’m coming back next week. got kicked out of my old place,” he suddenly mumbles in the crook of your neck, barely audible. you register his words through post-coital bliss. when you don't respond, he turns his head, but you're already looking at him. studying the expression on his face.

"fine," you concede. "but you better get a real job."

(masterlist) | (a/n: tell ur man to wash his pp before sex. idk if this gets a p.2)

[thetarotwitch111]

How people are perceiving you right now? - Pick a card purple pokemon

Since i absolutely love pokemon I picked three purple ones, and just like choosing your starter, you’ll pick one to uncover how people are seeing you right now. So grab your Poké Balls, dust off that old Game Boy, and let’s see what your chosen Pokémon reveals about you.

✨I hope this reading brings you some clarity and guidance. If it resonated with you, I’d love to hear about it!

✨ And if you’re looking for something more personal, I also do individual readings—just DM me anytime or check my ko-fi

🌟TIP JAR🌟

Breathe, clean your thoughts and ask your guides and the Universe lead you to the message that’s meant for you.

Let’s get into your reading!

💜 1. Gengar

They’re noticing this big shift in you. You’re really starting to let go of things that used to hold you down, and that’s pretty powerful. It’s almost like you’ve decided, “I don’t need to control everything,” and that’s making you come across as way more open and chill. People can see that you’re getting better at going with the flow, even if it’s a little scary sometimes. But they also see that you’re super careful with your decisions. You’re not the type to just jump into something without thinking it through. You’re weighing all your options, and while that might make you seem a little stuck, it’s really just you being smart about where you’re headed next. And sure, they might pick up on the fact that you’re dealing with some tough stuff (maybe some temptations or situations that feel a bit restrictive). But what they really admire is how you’re not letting that stop you. You’re determined to break free from anything that doesn’t feel right, and that’s pretty inspiring.

The good things they see in you:

First off, they totally admire your resilience. You’ve been through some rough times, but you always manage to come out the other side even stronger. It’s like no matter what life throws at you, you’re not just surviving—you’re thriving. And people really notice that strength in you.

They also love your independence and this amazing ability to make choices that are totally in line with who you are. Even if that means you’re taking a path that others don’t quite get, they respect that you’re doing what feels right for you. You might seem a little cautious in relationships, but that’s just because you’re making sure everything aligns with your true self. People really respect that about you.

Witch’s advice:

You’re in this awesome phase of letting go and embracing change, so let’s boost that energy with some crystals. Grab a smoky quartz, cause it’s perfect for helping you release anything that’s no longer serving you. Think of it as a little nudge from the universe to let go of the old and welcome the new. And then there’s labradorite, which is all about transformation.

For herbs, sage is your best friend right now. It’s amazing for clearing out any negative or stuck energy around you. Pair it with lavender, which is super calming and will help you feel more at peace, especially when things get a little overwhelming.

And because we all need a bit of comfort, let’s talk tea. A blend of peppermint and chamomile is just what you need. The peppermint will help you think clearly and its perfect for those moments when you’re at a crossroads. And the chamomile will calm your nerves and help you relax about the future. If you want an extra boost, add a little lemon balm to the mix. It’s uplifting and will keep your spirits high as you move forward.

💜 2. Koffing

People see you as someone who’s really starting to break free from some heavy stuff. It’s like they’ve noticed you’ve been through a period where you felt really stuck, maybe even a little trapped, but now they can see you stepping out of that and finding your strength. It’s as if you’ve taken off the blindfold and are beginning to see all the possibilities that are out there for you. There’s a sense of admiration for how you’re learning to navigate through challenges, taking control of your life, and not letting fear or doubt hold you back anymore.

However, there’s also an understanding that you’re still working through some deeper, more personal struggles. People can sense that you’re dealing with things that might still have a hold on you, like old habits or negative thoughts that are tough to shake. But they don’t see this as a weakness; instead, they recognize the strength it takes to confront these inner battles. They know you’re doing your best to overcome them, and they respect the fight you’re putting up to not let those things control you.

At the same time, others notice that you’re someone who avoids unnecessary drama. You’re not one to dive into conflicts or get caught up in petty disputes. Instead, you’re focused on keeping the peace and finding solutions that work for everyone involved. People see you as someone who values harmony and is willing to go the extra mile to make sure things stay calm and balanced, even when it’s not easy. This makes you someone they can rely on to bring a sense of calm and reason into tense situations.

The good things they see in you:

One of the biggest things is your ability to move on from tough situations. They see you as someone who doesn’t let past disappointments or mistakes define you. Instead, you focus on what’s still possible and what you can still achieve. You don’t get down for the negative, but instead, you find a way to keep moving forward, and that’s something people really appreciate.

People also admire how you’re starting to open up more. Maybe you’ve spent some time reflecting and keeping to yourself, but now they see you sharing more of what you’ve learned. You’re willing to let others in, to show your vulnerabilities, and to offer the wisdom you’ve gained from your experiences. This makes you relatable and wise in their eyes, someone who’s been through a lot but is now ready to connect and share with others.

There’s also something about your creativity. Even if you don’t always show it right away, people sense that you have a rich inner world. When you do express your feelings or ideas, it’s something really special that others value. They see you as someone who brings a unique perspective to the table, and they love how you bring your imagination and emotions into everything you do.

Lastly, people respect your thoughtful approach to life. You’re not someone who rushes into things and take your time to consider your options and make sure everything is just right before you move forward. This makes you seem deliberate and careful, which others really appreciate. They know that when you do make a decision, it’s something you’ve really thought through, and that brings a sense of confidence and trust in your choices.

Witch’s advice:

First, consider working with amethyst. This crystal is great for helping you stay clear-headed and keeping any negative energy at bay. It’s also wonderful for breaking free from old patterns and embracing the new opportunities you’re creating for yourself.

For herbs, basil and rosemary would be particularly helpful right now. Basil can bring protection and peace, helping you maintain the calm and balanced environment you’re striving for. Rosemary, on the other hand, is excellent for clarity and focus, giving you the mental boost you need to keep moving forward with confidence.

When it comes to teas, a soothing blend of lemon balm and chamomile would be perfect. Lemon balm is uplifting and can ease any lingering anxiety, while chamomile helps you relax and unwind. Together, they create a comforting, calming vibe that supports your journey toward balance and peace.

💜 3. Nidoking

People see you as someone who’s in the middle of a pretty intense moment. It’s like they can tell you’ve been thinking a lot about whether to stay in certain situations or move on, but there’s a part of you that’s still holding back. Maybe it’s because you’re not quite ready to let go of something that has been important to you, or perhaps you’re trying to find closure before taking the next big step. Either way, others sense that you’re in a bit of a back-and-forth, trying to figure out where you truly want to be.

They also see that you’re someone who might be feeling a bit stuck right now, like there’s something unfinished in your life. It’s as if you’re so close to reaching a major goal or completing a big chapter, but there’s still a loose end or two that’s keeping you from feeling like you can fully move forward. And you have this drive to wrap things up and reach that sense of completion, but they also understand that it’s not easy when you’re dealing with things that are beyond your control.

At the same time, you’ve got this energy that’s just contagious. You’re curious, excited about new ideas, and you bring that spark wherever you go. Even when life gets tough, they see that you’re still standing strong, ready to take on whatever comes your way. You’re like a warrior who’s been through a lot, but you’ve still got that fire inside you.

The good things they see in you:

One of the first things that stands out is your sense of independence and self-sufficiency. People see you as someone who’s really got it together, someone who’s worked hard to build a life that’s stable and fulfilling. You have this air of confidence and self-reliance that others find incredibly inspiring. They admire how you don’t just sit around waiting for things to happen. You go out and make things happen, and know your worth and you’re not afraid to enjoy the fruits of your labor.

Another thing is that you have a way of bringing your dreams to life that really impresses people. And they also think that you’ve got this deep well of emotion and love, even if you don’t always show it right away. They admire how you’re able to care so deeply and how you’re not afraid to be vulnerable when it really matters. You have this gift for making others feel valued and appreciated, and that’s something they truly treasure in you.

You also lift others up, to bring joy and happiness wherever you go and they see you as someone who can find the good in almost any situation and help others see it too.

Witch’s Advice:

Grab some citrine. It’s the perfect crystal for you. Citrine is all about boosting your confidence and bringing in that joyful, abundant energy that you naturally have. It’s like a little battery for your positivity. And clear quartz is another good one for you; it helps you stay focused and amps up your intentions, making it even easier to manifest all the amazing things you’re working on.

For herbs, rosemary and bay leaves are your go-tos. Rosemary is great for keeping your mind clear and your energy protected, especially when you’re dealing with those frustrating, unfinished things. Bay leaves are awesome for setting intentions and making your wishes come true—write down what you want on a bay leaf, burn it, and let the magic happen.

And let’s not forget about tea! A blend of jasmine and green tea is perfect for you. Jasmine brings in that sweet, loving energy, helping you stay connected to your heart. Green tea keeps you motivated and focused, which is just what you need to keep moving forward. Together, these teas will help you stay balanced and energized, ready to take on anything.

[pompadorbz]

FINALLY FINISHED MY QPHIL 3.0 DESIGN HOORAY (cant wait to. redesign it again in like 3 months.) (CHECK UNDER THE CUT FOR MY SILLY DESIGN NOTES!!)

I think I said this before but i so. SO BADLY wanted him to have a sleep theme since I always loved how his presence on the island was kinda up in the air. Is it a dream? Is it not? When he goes between the island and hardcore is that change really happening? Who knows.

The idea of making his usual outfit more like a housecoat was super appealing to me, so I opted for this open housecoat look with really heavy frills which were super fun to figure out, and I knew from pretty early on that I wanted to give him a quilt pattern SOMEWHERE on his design, so I thought the inside of the coat would do nicely for a sorta "default state". It also meant I could attribute meaning to the symbols and colours I used. wink nudge.

He has a more subtle angel theme, like with the mobile on his walking stick being a halo with the wing placement further emphasizing this, as well as just his generally lighter colour scheme. When I say sleep was his theme I almost more-so imagine it as like. The feeling of waking up in the morning where you're mostly refreshed but still a LITTLE drowsy. Lots of very spring-y, morning colours.

Just some other quick notes, I always really liked the mod in the server where you could have the crows perch on your shoulder and follow cuz of the lantern, so I thought it'd be fun if I made it so brian just straight up WAS the lantern. So I made him look like one of those wall outlet nightlights!! The backpack being kinda cat shaped was COMPLETELY unintentional but a very welcome result. Missa backpack is real.

As for the alternate outfits, I have a bolas one, as well as an ender king one since I deemed those two the most important. For the ender king I weirdly don't have many notes, like it's fairly straightforward (Save for the elephant in the room but now I'm gonna keep my secrets on why that's a thing). The Quilt design is supposed to be a lighter, easier-on-the-eyes version of the no texture pattern, and I imagine that all the goop and gunk on Phil is hidden under the coat. I imagine it'd look fairly similar to canon so just like. imagine it for now. Might draw it one day. MAYBE. There's some tiny additional colour symbolism but I'll hold my tongue on that and let you guys draw your own conclusions there. I WILL say, however, that instead of his theme being sleep, his theme is "nightmare" (and also kinda sleepwalking since both fit).

The Bolas design was SUPER fun to work with. For starters I wanted the three designs to be in three different states. One with the coat, one with the coat reversed, and one without the coat entirely. Since I wanted to do the checker pattern thing with the possession design, having the sleeveless bolas design worked really well for the shape I landed on, even if it wasn't conventional. and SPEAKING of non-conventional design choices, I decided to go against the usual plague doctor + gas mask fusion design. Which might be controversial... But god. The moment I thought of his mask being a falconry hood, the idea just wouldn't leave my mind. Because of this, the full mask is kinda separated into two parts. The eye mask which kinda also mirrors his usual sleep mask, and the gas mask itself (I kept it in a beak shape since it'd feel odd if i made it any other shape for phil, lol). When designing the whole thing I kept thinking about more apocalypse setting clothing. Like mad max. Or the one gag from that one spongebob movie. Lots of leather. And of course, to match the other sleep themes, the Bolas outfit's theme is "fever dream", although its a bit more subtle. It's easily the weirdest design, The pops of green were simultaneously in reference to the friendship emerald... As well as... Well, the green chain right below the chain on the sickness themed design was probably the most tasteful way I could've chosen to get across vomit without it being too on the nose. (also sidenote, I had a few friends compare bolas phil to... a fly. Which wasn't intentional but it's kinda funny that the guy designed after fever dreams looks a little bit like a bug.) Ok thats it for design commentary I'm gonna go to bedge nyow.

[meowsforyujin]

Clubbing- Han

Han x fem bodied reader

(Warnings- !!smut!! , choking, drinking, oral, fingering, unprotected sex)

!not proofread, I’m lazy

Clubbing wasn’t something out of the ordinary in your friend group. What WAS out of the ordinary was that literally everyone had found a “ride” home but you and freaking han jisung. Jisung was your best friend’s brother, aka pain in your ass. You did not like him AT ALL. You didn’t like his gorgeous figure, his perfect slim waist, his gummy smile…

Okay just because you think someone's good looking doesn't mean you like them. 

Jisung was annoying, for starters. He’s always messing with you, and FLIRTING with you. He’s always making it seem like you have a crush on him, and it pisses you off. 

“Me? Have a crush on YOU? You wish” you’d say.

“Whatever you say princess.”

What was really blood boiling was that your best friend didn't seem to care one bit. If your brother was flirting with her, you’d kick him in the nuts. But not her, she either laughed or ignored it. 

Fast forward to present, here you are sitting lonely at the bar with no one to take you home, since everyone had luck tonight BUT you. 

“Why are you so lonely at a club, it’s depressing.” you hear that stupid fucking voice that makes your heart beat oh so slightly faster

“No reason that's your business asshole.” you snap your head around. 

“Is someone grumpy that they aren't getting laid?” He asks smugly, sitting down next to you. 

“I think you're teasing me because you're upset YOU'RE not getting laid” you say, annoyance visible in your tone. 

“I have a better chance than you.” he stuck his tongue out like a child  

The bartender handed you your drink and you spaced out, eyes on the dance floor. You loved dancing. Han also knew you loved dancing because he loved watching you dance. He wasn’t ever one to be in denial, unlike you. 

“Well since it's just us less, I suppose we have no choice but to dance together.” 

You come back to your senses and look back at him, making a disgusted facial expression before shaking your head. 

“Come on, it's your favorite song, you want to dance so bad I know it.” He says holding out his hand. 

You opened your mouth to protest, but gave up and hesitantly took his hand. It was your favorite song, though you don’t remember telling anyone. 

There isn’t anything in the world that could make Jisung regret asking you to dance, he’s sure. You’re the most pretty thing he’s ever seen. He doesn't like to watch you dance because you're good at it, no. You’re exceptionally bad at it. It’s absolutely adorable. 

You hate to admit, but this is one of the best times you’ve had on the dance floor. You don’t know why, it’s not really any different from dancing with your other friends. Maybe you just like watching him smile and laugh more than the others. 

Everything was going pretty wholesome until a few drinks in the song changed to a more slow, sexual song. But it’s fine right? Jisung is just a friend, it doesn’t mean anything when you're dancing with your back pressed against him, slightly grinding against him. But youre a little tipsy, and so is he, and to be quite honest neither of you see each other as a friend. 

But you’re quickly sober when you feel a bulge press against you, you're breath hitching. 

“Jisung?”

“Hm?” he replies, head still on your shoulder.

“Are you hard right now?” 

He just hums and plants wet kisses on your neck. 

“HAN JISUNG” You turn around, fully intending to scold him until you see his gaze.  

“What.”

He’s staring at you, hands still on your hips. His eyes half lidded, lips parted, hair messy, eyes absolutely filled with lust. You feel small under his gaze so you move your attention away from his eyes, and it’s just now you're noticing the way he's dressed. He’s wearing a button up that frames his biceps so well it's insane, unbuttoned a bit to where you can see the slight outline of his pec muscles

Your thoughts are brutally interrupted when you feel his hand pull up your chin to met his eyes. 

“What.” he repeats himself. 

“I um, your, uh, um” You forgot how to speak English all of a sudden. 

“Are you shy baby?”

It was like you were hypnotized by him, because instead of scolding him you simply nodded. And he did nothing. He just stared. But you wanted him to do something, anything. 

“Jisung, please.” You're voice came out more of a whimper than you intended. 

“Please what princess?”

You faulted for a moment, not knowing exactly how to put into words what you wanted.

“Can you, can you atleast just kiss me?” You breathed. 

And he didn't waste any time fulfilling your wish, almost crashing his lips onto yours. It felt like he has been waiting to do that for forever (he has). The kiss was sloppy and heated, tongues tracing each others mouth, teeth gnashing together every now and then. The heat in between your legs was beginning to become unbearable. 

“Please, can we get out of here?” you pulled away looking at him with pleading eyes. 

When he got to his car, he truly didn't expect you to be this impatient. His plan was to drive back to his apartment before resuming anything, but CLEARLY you had other plans. 

Your hips on either side of him, grinding softly while attacking the skin on his neck. 

Jisung couldn't help the moans that escaped him, and he didn't want to either. 

“Princess, we can't do this here, l, let's just get home first hm?” He huffed, pulling your hair behind your ear. 

“Please just let me do something before we stop.” You whined, the wait was too long already. 

He sighed and nodded, not knowing what to expect.

You pushing the driver's seat back harshly was more attractive than it should've been. You got down off the seat, onto the ground of the car. Your hands crept up to his zipper while he looked at you with great anticipation. You palm his bulge slightly, pulling a beautiful whine out of him, before taking out his member completely. You try, you really try to hold the gasp in when you see his size. You couldn't help yourself, you had to get your hands on it. 

You run your fingers up and down his member, causing ticklish yet still pleasurable sensations. Jisung moaned, bucking his hips up slightly, trying to show you that he needed more. You hum before licking a long stripe up his dick, earning a long whine from him. You circled his tip, collecting the bits of precum leaking from it. Without wasting any second you take him in, his tip hitting that back of your through as tears prick the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall. You began bobbing up and down, leaving jisung a moaning mess. His hips buck up as he hissed, trying to hold himself back. You pull off, unsatisfied. 

“Don’t do that, don’t hold back.” You watch his beautiful face turn a deep red as he shyly nodded. 

You went back down, this time sucking at his tip on the way up, which seemed to be his limit. His hands found their way to your hair, holding you in place before thrusting into your mouth. He only got in a few thrusts before his hips stilled, cock twitching as he came. You swallowed every bit while watching his gaze on you, chest falling up and down heavily. 

The drive home felt agonizingly slow. As soon as the car stopped, you all but ran to the front door, eager to get in jisungs pants again. The moment the door opened you were pinned to the wall, jisung kicking the door closed behind him. Your lips reattached after what felt like forever, and he took this opportunity to pin your wrists to the wall above you. You let out a satisfactory moan when he did so, causing him to grow harder and harder in his pants. He moved from your lips to your neck, leaving open mouth kisses. The gentleness was quickly replaced with his teeth slightly sinking into your skin,  sucking harshly. You enjoyed it though, your whimpered sure as hell confirmed that. 

Jisung reached under your thighs, pulling slightly signaling you to jump. And you did, wrapping your thighs around his waist, and kissing him once again. He set you down on the kitchen counter, your legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, trying to pull him impossible closer. His hands reach under your shirt, tugging slightly. You pull away from the kiss, granting him access to take off your shit. He practically lunged towards your chest, leaving wet kisses along your cleavage. Your breath hitched as you felt his hands going up your skirt, feeling your heat. 

“So wet baby, for me?” He flashed you that stupid cocky smile of his.

“Just do something about it sung, please?”  You looked up at him with pleading eyes.

The nickname definitely hit a soft spot, as he's never heard you call him that. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it though. 

He bent down, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You watched his strong hands reach up your thighs, rolling your skirt back. He attached his lips to your clothed clit, causing a desirable cry from you. You whines at the lost contact when he pulled away, removing your underwear and then getting back into the same position. 

You whined feeling his warm tongue lick up your pussy. He starts painfully slow, kitty licking every inch of you, just wanting to taste every spot. While this was nice, it wasn't any of the right movements to make you cum. And you wanted to cum, so bad. All of a sudden it was as if he read your mind. His lips curled around your clit, sucking gently as he pushed a finger into you. You let out a cry of satisfaction, begging him to keep going. He pumped his finger in and out of you while sucking your clit, and soon one finger became two. Soon after the second finger was added, you were cumming all over his face with a cry of his name. 

Jisung cleaned you up with his tongue, not wanting to miss a single drop until you whined from the overstimulation. He gives you a quick peck of the lips before taking you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom. 

He sets you down on the bed and then turns around, confusing you. 

“Where are you going?”

He turns back at you with a soft smile, “Just going to get stuff to clean you up, and then clothes for you to sleep in.”

You frowned, “Who said we're done?”

“Oh, I um, thought maybe you were tired..I didn't want to pressure you.” why was he so sweet? It was bothering you.

“No sung, im not tired, want you to fuck me.” 

He blinks a couple of times, breath caught in his throat, before hurrying over to the bed toppling over you. Before you could laugh at him, he's already kissing you. Both of your clothes are off in seconds, thrown somewhere unimportant. His eyes were glued on your naked figure, with an unreadable expression. You turned your head away nervously, crossing your arms over you. 

You yelped when he harshly removed your arms and pinned them up above you. 

“You’re so, so beautiful. So much fucking better than I imagined.”

You felt your face burning at the last comment “What do you mean imagined sung?”, you chuckled softly, but really you wanted to know. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this, to make you mine.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his crotch down to meet yours. 

“I’m not yours yet, you better hurry up”

He let out a “Tch” sound before entering you without warning, filling you up so perfectly you wanted to never be empty again. You felt every inch of him against your walls, tip so sweetly brushed against the spot you loved most. 

“Fuuuck sung please move” you cried, rutting up your hips trying to get some friction against your g spot. 

“Mmm only if you say your mine.” 

“Shit sung, okay okay I’m yours.”

“Again.”

“I’m yours.”

“Again.”

You rolled your eyes, “Han Jisung, I’m yours and only yours.”

And with that he began thrashing his hips into you, hitting your spot everytime. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping and both your moans. He pulls your legs back around his waist, trying to hit your spot better, and holy shit he succeeded. You were so so so close, and he was too, you could feel his dick twitching inside you. 

“Sung, im so close please” you begged, tears falling from your eyes.

“You’re so fucking good for me” he grunts, thrusting faster.

“Please choke me” You whined

He was hesitant at first but shortly complied, wrapping his fingers around your throat giving it a light squeeze. All of a sudden, time stopped. All on your mind was bliss as your walls clamped down onto him, pulling a high pitched moan from him while he came too. 

After you both came down from your high, jisung picked you up and took you to the bathroom. He set you down on the sink while he ran the bathtub. You simply just watched him, soaking in his beauty. 

For a good solid 10 minutes, you both were silent, just sitting, feeling each other's warmth. Eventually Jisung picked up a bottle of soap and began to clean you. 

“I can do things by myself jisung.” You glared at him

“Mmm but I want to help you, love. And also I prefer my new nickname “sung” now.”

You scoffed but let him continue his task, picking up the bottle of soap out of mere curiosity. 

“Vanilla?” You laughed “Your soap is vanilla scented?”

“I like vanilla, what’s wrong with that?” he pouted.

“Nothing.” You whispered, giving him a soft kiss. 

“So, for the record, you did have a crush on me.”

“HAN JISUNG!!”

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Epilogue

The Beast Tempts the Little Rabbit

Pictures have been updated!

 The turmoil at the charity party came to a close without incident, and the following day—

Emma: "I'm sorry."

I invited Kagari to a tea party I held in the greenhouse of Jade Castle to apologize to him.

Kagari: "It's fine. Lift your head."

Kagari: "Is what I'd like to say, but I don't recall you ever being rude to me. And it's not like me to forget things."

Emma: "It was during yesterday's party."

Emma: "I made several remarks criticizing you without understanding the situation."

Emma: "And despite being told to wait in the room, I chased after you, charged at an enemy unarmed, and fainted."

Kagari: "Just hearing that makes you sound like a beast that accidentally wandered into human territory."

Emma: "As a result, you had to carry me all the way to the guest room here in the castle. I’ve caused you a lot of trouble.”

Kagari: "I think the cause of you fainting was my fault but... it’s fine."

Kagari: "Apologies are unnecessary. I’ve already dealt with the person I was after, to some extent."

This morning, I remembered what Prince Keith had told Kagari.

(If I remember correctly, the merchant's eye and leg were considered as unusable.)

(If Prince Keith hadn't shown up when he did, it wouldn't have ended with just that.)

I couldn’t help but think about the worst-case scenario and shuddered.

Kagari: "Also, I don't feel like I was criticized at all."

Kagari: "For starters, our living environments are vastly different. It's natural for our way of thinking to be different too."

Kagari: "You simply just expressed your opinion about that difference, yet you didn't reject mine, did you?"

Emma: "...Right."

Kagari: "Then don't apologize. It wasn't a mistake."

Kagari: "But in Kogyoku, lukewarm thoughts like yours can be fatal."

Kagari: "If you want to die, that's fine, but be careful if you go there."

Emma: "Understood. Thank you for your advice!"

I nodded, and Kagari, seemingly satisfied with all that he had to say, took a sip of tea.

I was almost enchanted by his graceful movements.

(Kagari doesn't hesitate to take lives.)

(But he's not just a cruel person as he gives me advice like this and even returned my wallet.)

Although we're still practically strangers, I felt that way from every one of his words and actions.

Kagari: "So..."

Emma: "Yes?"

Kagari: "Can I eat these dorayaki?"

In front of Kagari’s gaze was a table filled with dorayaki as far as the eye could see.

Among them was the dorayaki from the mobile shop that I had eaten yesterday.

(I remember Prince Keith telling me about it and snuck out to buy some.)

Emma: "Please do! I prepared them just for you, Kagari."

Kagari: "For me...? Then I’ll gratefully accept it."

While there was no change in his expression or tone of voice, the atmosphere around us seemed to have relaxed slightly.

Kagari’s hand reached for the dorayaki—but for some reason, he withdrew it without taking one.

Kagari: "..."

(Huh? He stood up.)

As I watched his movements, he placed his chair right next to me without leaving any room, and sat back down.

And he opened his mouth towards me.

(...?)

I was left speechless with a bewildered expression.

Kagari: "Princess, you're slow on the uptake."

Kagari: "I'm going to eat you, not the dorayaki."

Emma: "Wha... You bit me again!?"

Heat spread from where he bit me.

I glared at Kagari while holding my neck, and he stared back at me with his chin resting on his hand.

He seemed a bit disappointed.

Kagari: "Aren’t you going to say 'Ah' like you did yesterday?"

Emma: "I didn't say that."

Kagari: "Yes you did. It was cute."

Emma: "Cu... That's not the point. Please don't bite me again."

Kagari: "This is the first time I've bitten you."

Emma: " I remember you biting me yesterday, very clearly."

Kagari: "I didn't bite you. But..."

He lightly tapped the back of my hand that was holding my neck with two fingers.

Kagari: "I just lightly pressed into you with my nails like this."

Emma: "Liar..."

Kagari: "Unfortunately, I’m not lying."

(So I just assumed I was bitten and...)

(This is the worst... I wish I could faint right now. I feel like crying from embarrassment.)

Kagari: "I really liked that sound."

Kagari: "Won't you do it again? Misunderstood Princess—mmph"

Emma: "I've heard that the deliciousness of dorayaki decreases by half when it dries out, so please eat them as soon as possible!"

Intervening Kagari’s words, I forcibly fed him a piece of dorayaki cut with a fork.

Kagari: "..."

(He's really quiet now. Just as Prince Keith said, dorayaki works wonders on him.)

(But still... he must have noticed that I was flustered...)

(Kagari can be quite mean, despite his appearance.)

As I fanned my face with my hand to cool down, Kagari continued to silently eat the dorayaki at a steady pace.

Chewing, swallowing, and opening his mouth to take in another dorayaki. It was like an assembly line.

(Was Kagari opening his mouth as a sign for me to feed him?)

(...Perhaps as an apology.)

Kagari: "Princess."

Emma: "Oh, right, the dorayaki."

I pushed the empty plate aside and picked up a plate piled high with dorayaki.

(...It'll be fine, right?)

With a handful of nervousness in my chest, I offered a piece of dorayaki that I had cut into a bite-sized portion.

Kagari ate it without hesitation, then abruptly stopped moving.

(...Was it not good after all?)

Unable to bear the flowing silence, I spoke up.

Emma: "I made those dorayaki."

Kagari: "You did?"

Emma: "Just buying them seemed a bit bland, so I asked Prince Keith to borrowed the kitchen."

Emma: "I followed the recipe exactly, but it never turned out right."

(I should ask owner for some tips when I get back.)

(For now, I'll eat this one myself, and get another one...)

Kagari: "Wait."

He stopped my hand that was trying to move the plate away and returned it to its original position.

Emma: "Wasn’t it not to your liking?"

Kagari: "Who said that? It's delicious."

Emma: "R-really!?"

Kagari: "Yeah, I like the taste of something you're not used to making."

(That's... a somewhat puzzling response.)

(But I'm glad he thinks it good.)

Emma: "Thank you."

I once again brought the dorayaki to Kagari’s mouth.

He ate it, seemingly faster than before, and my expression naturally relaxed.

(Hehe, he's starting to look cute.)

Whenever I offered him a dorayaki, he opened his mouth obediently without changing his expression, and it was fascinating to watch.

(...I wonder what that was yesterday.)

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Kagari: "If I kneel down and cutely meow like a cat, will I get your attention?"

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

Remembering the sweet and fierce heat I saw in his eyes, my body tensed slightly.

The atmosphere was different from when we met in the city or when he was wielding his sword.

I hastily shook off my thoughts in response to the incomprehensible fear.

Kagari: "What's wrong, Princess?"

Emma: "Oh... um, I was just thinking that I'd like to try some authentic dorayaki while watching cherry blossoms..."

Emma: "But it's just a thought."

To cover it up, I hastily came up with an excuse, but Kagari tilted his head.

Kagari: "So you want to eat dorayaki while having a cherry blossom viewing in Kogyoku?"

Emma: "Yes."

Emma: "To do that, I'll need to learn how to protect myself better and become stronger."

Kagari: "You'll probably die before you become strong."

Emma: "...You're really killing my motivation, Kagari."

Kagari: "I'm just being realistic."

After pretending to think for a moment, Kagari took a sip of tea.

Kagari: "If you really want to come to Kogyoku, call me. I'll act as your escort."

Emma: "Really? Is that okay?"

Kagari: "You did feed me dorayaki, after all."

Kagari: "And as a bonus, I'll even teach you an easy way to kill someone."

Emma: "...I'll pass on that, thank you."

Kagari: "I’m just kidding."

Kagari: "But as a minimum for self-defense, you should have a short sword or a knife with you."

Kagari: "Even if you don't want to take someone's life, it's important not to be defenseless."

Emma: "Thank you for your concern."

Even in Kogyoku, known as a turbulent country, there are safe territories.

However, I learned from the owner that most people still carry swords.

(Talking to Kagari makes me realize the stark differences between my everyday life in Rhodolite and there.)

Kagari: "Princess, Princess."

His voice interrupted my thoughts.

Emma: "Yes, what is it...? Mmph."

He suddenly stuffed something into my mouth, and the gentle sweetness spread across my tongue.

(It's a dorayaki.)

I chewed and swallowed.

Kagari: "Is it good?"

Emma: "It's delicious."

Kagari: "Then have another bite."

Emma: "Mmph-- Kagari, what's gotten into you all of a sudden? Also, this bite is a bit too big!"

Kagari: "It's fine, you can handle it."

(He's being so forceful!)

(He demanded to be fed dorayaki, and now he's turning the tables and feeding me.)

(He's really an unpredictable person.)

(But... one thing is for certain...)

As I chewed on the dorayaki, I looked at Kagari.

His expressionless emerald eyes met mine, just like when we first met.

(What does Kagari think of me after yesterday's incident? I have no idea.)

(Just one thing...)

Kagari: "Princess."

(I feel like he's... grown fond of me.)

As I thought that, it seemed like Kagari had a swaying cat's tail attached to him.

▼・ᴥ・▼

[ministerlo]

Like Father, Like Son

I'm sitting on the couch, reading a fantasy book I liked, completely absorbed by it. It’s the weekend, and I'm enjoying your time alone at home, as usual.

Suddenly, I hear the front door open. It could only be my mother and… "him". Your mom’s new boyfriend.

I don’t like him at all. He often takes advantage of your mom, and I don’t know why she still keeps him around.

"Hi Mom" I say cheerfully, I adored my mom, she raised me all by herself after dad left us, the only problem with her was that she had gotten with. "Hey punk" Steve, he wore his dumb smirk as he took off his shoes.

"Hi sweetie." mom speaks to you with a smile.

"Where'd you guys go." I say trying to sound as polite as possible to Steve in front of my mother, she didn't need the extra stress of knowing I didn't like her boyfriend.

Mom goes to the kitchen to put down her stuff. Steve, on the other hand, walks towards me, and sits down right next to me. He makes sure to sit so close to me that he’s practically touching me. "We just, walked through the town a bit." he says as he puts his arm around me.

I looked at the time, "Wait, mom don't you have a meeting soon?"

She looked at the time "Omg, I need to run, be good for Steve sweetie" as she rushed off to go to her meeting on time.

As I watched her leave I finally snapped at Steve "Get your hands off me."

"Why would I?" He smirks deviously.

"What do you want?" I asked irraitedly

He laughs, and pulls me closer to him. He’s now holding my shoulder firmly with one hand, almost like he was trapping me down to the couch. "I just want to spend some time with you, that’s all. We never got to have one-on-one chats, you know." He says with a cocky smile.

"Why would I need to spend time with you?" I asked raising my voice.

"Aww don't you want to spend time with your good ol' step dad?" he said grinning from ear to ear

"You're not my dad!" I screamed, you're just a rebound for my mom.

"Ohh, that's gonna change soon." He said under his breath, I could barely hear him, I glared at him for that but my last mistake was looking at his eyes.

"What's wrong with your eyes." I asked head suddenly getting increasingly dizzy.

"Hmm, what?" He said in a teasing tone.

"Your eyes, they're, spirals." At this point I could barely form a coherent sentence my head hurt so much, it felt like a million tiny needles were stabbed into my brain, not only that it felt like a fog was in my head stopping all thoughts from being processed.

He laughs, and looks back at me with his hypnotising eyes. "Yeah, they’re pretty cool aren’t they?" He chuckles as he looks me deep into the eyes, almost like he’s staring down my soul.

"I-I feel weird." Stammering I try to get rid of the fog that was incasing my head.

He continues to stare down into my eyes, still holding me close to him "What do you feel? Explain it to me." He says while chuckling, as if he knows exactly what I feeling but wants me to say it out loud.

"Head's foggy." I could barely hear myself over the hammering over my head.

He chuckles yet again, seeing that I was slowly getting affected by his eyes "Anything else? Do you feel dizzy? Or dumber?"

I couldn't think to refute or shout at him, I could barely speak over the indescribable pain that I was feeling, all of a sudden my body felt like there were weights attached to them. "Dizzy, body feels weird as well"

He smirks, seeing how quickly the effects were taking over "Oh really, come over here." He raises his armpits "maybe this will make you feel better."

I couldn't refute him, my body wanted someone to anchor me and think so I obediently sniffed his armpit, all of a sudden everything felt so pleasurable. As I mindlessly sniffed at his armpits I tried to resist the urge to lap at his armpits.

"That's a good boy, just follow your instincts, don't fight them." He said smirking, he could see the changes that were occurring to me, my hair for starters turned a more dirty blond and messy, he could tell that my face shape was changing, becoming much more angular and chiseled, he also saw that I was growing much more body hair, especially in my armpits.

Since he told me not to fight my urges I decide to start lapping up the sweat, his musky, and manly scent was intoxicating to me. As I continued to obediently lap and sniff my changes were accelerated, my muscles becoming more toned and defined, looking like that of a football star, my feet grew larger, I grew a few inches, both in my dick as well as my height. As the changes progressed I started to produce my own manly and musky sweat, not only that but the musk started to slowly turn me on.

"That's a good boy." Steve told me before he pulled me out of his armpit I whined. "I see, your muscles feel heavy. Your body feels strong, your head hurts and you feel dizzy. Is that right?"

I don't know why but I felt the urge to be obedient rather than defiant to a person I once despised "Yes"

He grabs my chin with his hand, forcing me to look into his eyes even more as his smirk becomes bigger "Can you feel your mind getting empty? Feeling slower than usual? Maybe even a little dumber? Or can you still think fine?"

"I can think, but my memories are emptying out" I obediently answered.

He notices that I told him that my memories are starting to disappear, as he continues to stare at me intently in the eyes as I starting to go dumb "Good, good. Let them fade away. You don’t need them anyway. You’ll be given new ones soon, so why even bother with them? Just drop them. Let them fade away from you mind as you slowly feel your intelligence and free-will go lower and lower…"

I suddenly felt a defiant surge as I struggled "What, are you doing to me"

He chuckles as he takes notice of my slow reaction and confusion. It was cute to him that I was so clueless "You still haven’t figured it out? You’re really that dumb, uh?" He says while he slowly moves his hand up to my head, and begins petting me as if I was a pet.

"I- no dad, wait what?!" I gasped at my accidental slip at calling him dad. "I my memories, you're not my biological dad but are at the same time"

He grins as he sees thatI'm slowly realising what’s happening. He knows I'm getting close to the truth, and he’s enjoying every second of it "That’s right kid, you’re almost there." He says as he continues to pet and caress my hair while staring deep into my eyes

"Are my memories-" before I could finish I was cut off.

He grins from ear to ear as he hears you say that"That’s right, your memories are slowly getting replaced. Soon, you won’t remember anything from before. Nothing. You will fully think I’m your new real dad. And you’ll be my new son."

"Why do I feel so sore dad." my memories were already starting to be replaced and I was already accepting the new ideas that were implanted in my head.

He laughs and looks me up and down "Do you know why your muscles are so sore? It’s because they’ve grown. You’re so much bigger than before, and your muscles are so much stronger and for that strength your intelligence and free-will have been slowly disappearing. You don’t need them, you don’t need to think, just being the good son that I tell you to be."

"Yeah just be a good son, wait- no what about mom!" as I was accepting my new fate I remembered my mom and was able to break free.

He scoffs as I mention my mom "What about her? She’s not here, she’s not important. To you, I’m the most important person, right? You only listen to me, right? Obedience, love and loyalty is the only thing you feel for me. Right?"

"Yeah." I said back in his control.

He grins, seeing how obedient I've become. He loves having control over me. I’ve become so dumb and submissive, it’s so amusing to him "That’s good, kid. You don’t need your mom, you don’t need anything or anyone. My control over you is absolute. You only exist to please and obey me. Isn’t that right?"

As the mindless haze fully set in my cock grew rock hard, all the thoughts slipping from my head, increased my everything, my libido, my strength, my muscles and my pleasure. These thoughts also made it so that I had lost all of my queerness, thinking only traditionally without a single liberal thought. "Yeah I'm your good obedient son." I said as I chuckle dumbly.

He grins and ruffles my hair again. He feels so satisfied that I’ve become so weak-willed and obedient. It’s almost intoxicating to him to have such control over you "That’s a good boy. A good, obedient, dumb son. Exactly the kid I’ve always wanted. So strong and muscular, yet so dumb and easy to control and manipulate. You’ll do anything I say, right?"

"Yes dad." I said.

"Good, let's start replacing your memories then. From now on you're Kyle, my ideal son, you’re the star quarterback. The most popular, well liked, and most muscular guy in school. Everyone looks up to you, and all the girls want to be with you." He stated.

"Now one more thing, you'll do it for me won't you, since you're my good dumb and obedient son." He asked knowing full well that I would say yes.

Just as he expected I nodded.

"That’s good, kid. Now, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to completely, and utterly forget about your mom. Right now."

"Mom?" I asked questioningly.

He grins and looks, satisfied with my reaction "That’s right, I want you to forget about your mom permanently. Never think about her ever again. She’s not important to you anymore. All you should think about is me and obeying me. You only exist to please me, and that’s all you need. Got it?"

As the commands set in I replied "What mom?" completely clueless of my last attachment to my previous life.

He grins widely, the satisfaction of seeing me forget my mom growing more and more "That’s right. Mom? What mom. There is no mom. Just me, right? Your only focus and thought is pleasing me. You’ll forget that you ever had a mom. As far as you’re concerned, I have always been your only parent. You only listen to me, nobody else, right?"

"Of course dad." I was so deep into the commands I only remembered to be his perfect son, dumb, sweaty, muscle-bound, obedient, straight and catholic.

He snaps his fingers as the trance ends looking at me lovingly, enjoying just how much far I've become, from the previous nerd that hated him and didn't even consider him a step-dad to this good, dumb, muscle-bound jock that loved his dad.

"yoh, dad, you coming to my football game this Friday?" I said, completely unaware of the previous tranced state I was in and the past life that I lived out.

"Of course." He said smiling, loving the good son you had become.

As we chatted the door unlocked, revealing to us the lady that was my previous mom.