#i should talk about him way more considering TO ME at least he falls on the list of 2d men who | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goldsainz · 12 days ago

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# DREW STARKEY — ACTORS ON ACTORS !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ drew and you participate in variety’s “actors on actors” series.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ cursing, talking about nude scenes, probably inaccurate acting experiences.

003. NOTE !

✯ sorry to all the actors i stole roles from😭 also zendaya is used as a face claim for the social media but the writing is inclusive and has no descriptors of physical appearance… or at least i hope so.

word count : 5,4k (chat i got carried away)

The cozy studio was bathed in warm light, designed almost as if to feel like a welcoming living room. Two plush chairs faced each other, separated by a low coffee table adorned with a few carefully placed books and a small vase of fresh flowers. Everything about the space was crafted to exude intimacy and warmth, inviting open conversation.

Drew Starkey entered the room first, his usual calm confidence mingled with a tinge of nervous energy. He smoothed his shirt absentmindedly and scanned the setup, trying to ground himself in the moment. He was used to being in front of cameras, but this felt different. This wasn’t just about promoting a project or answering rapid-fire questions on a press junket. This was you.

“Hello,” Drew started, a smile gracing his features as he took in the fact that he was sitting right in front of his number one celebrity crush. His hand hovered awkwardly in a small wave, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.

“Hi,” you said back, a giggle falling past your lips when you noticed his sheepish look. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice just a little higher than usual. Drew cleared his throat, laughing at himself, which made you laugh too. “Sorry, I’m… a little nervous.”

“Oh, don’t be,” you reassured him with a warm smile. “I promise, I don’t bite.”

“Good to know.” He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great, thank you. What about you?”

“Pretty good, can’t complain.” A laugh bubbled out of him, and subsequently, you. The way he rubbed the back of his neck made you think he was still pinching himself that this was happening.

The cameras rolled, capturing the easy charm and immediate chemistry between the two of you.

Drew’s grin widened as he began. “First of all, let me just say—I’m completely starstruck right now. I mean, the way you completely own every role you take on... it’s incredible.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, a bashful laugh escaping as you waved off the compliment. “Oh, stop it. You’re making me blush!”

“I’m serious,” he pressed, leaning forward slightly. “You’re like… the blueprint. If I ever get even halfway to where you are, I’ll consider myself lucky.”

“Well, now you’re just flattering me,” you said, your voice teasing but your cheeks undeniably warm. “But thank you, that’s so sweet. And honestly, you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re incredible in Queer. You’ve got this natural charm that just lights up the screen.”

“Natural charm, huh?” He smirked, pretending to preen, which made you laugh again. “I’ll take that.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling. “You should, because it’s true.”

Drew’s gaze softened, the teasing giving way to something more earnest. “That means a lot, really. Especially coming from you. You’re like… Hollywood royalty to many.”

You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “To many, huh? And are you part of this many?”

Drew’s eyes widened, and he laughed, a little caught off guard. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve got a lifetime membership to the fan club.”

“Good to know,” you teased, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair with an air of mock superiority. “I’ll have to start charging you membership fees.”

“Totally worth it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Well, thank you,” you said with a soft laugh, “So, we’ve both got some things in common, which I think is pretty cool.”

“Like working with Daniel Craig?” he asked.

“Yes! Honestly, I still reminisce about our time on set… he’s genuinely incredible, isn’t he?”

“He is, yeah. I found myself just admiring him and sort of forgetting I had to act too. He’s just… he’s on another level, for sure.”

“Daniel’s a master of his craft… Most of my scenes as Paloma in No Time To Die were with him, and at first I was so nervous because, like, what if I messed up in front of the Daniel Craig?” Drew let out a laugh at your words, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. “But when he noticed I was nervous he reassured me that it was all good. He’s just the best.”

“You’ve worked with so many high-profile actors.” You nod slightly at his words, as if it were the most common thing in the world. “Are you always nervous when meeting them, or was it just a Daniel thing?”

“It wasn’t just Daniel, no, but I think it depends. For example, when I did Oppenheimer with Cillian Murphy, for some reason I felt more relaxed… even though I had some nude scenes with him.”

“Nude scenes just make you connect, don’t they?” he joked, leaning back with a sly grin.

“They do, actually,” you replied, leaning into the banter. “You’d think they’d be worse, but honestly, with the amount of seriousness and concentration they take, it’s like you don’t have time to be nervous.”

“You clearly pulled it off flawlessly,” Drew said with mock solemnity.

“You did too in Queer.” You compliment him, “I watched it a few days ago, and the chemistry you had with Daniel was just off the charts.”

Drew’s face lit up, a mix of pride and bashfulness crossing his features. “Daniel’s an amazing scene partner. He really made it easy for me to tap into everything.”

“Well, it shows,” you said. “It was such a raw and beautiful performance. I might’ve shed a tear or two.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush,” Drew teased, pointing at you with a playful squint. “But seriously, that means a lot coming from you.”

“Hey, give credit where it’s due,” you shot back with a grin. “You’ve got this way of making everything feel so real. Like when you’re in pain, we’re in pain. When you’re in love, we’re falling right alongside you.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know what to do with all these compliments. This is the best therapy session I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, crossing your legs and leaning forward slightly. “Well, I’m glad I could help. But now I’m curious—how did you prepare for a role like that? I mean, it’s so emotionally intense, no?.”

“It was a lot of journaling, a lot of talking with Luca about backstory and motivations,” Drew explained, his tone more thoughtful. “And honestly, I kind of drew from real-life experiences. Not the exact ones, obviously, but just feelings of vulnerability and… wanting to be understood.”

“That’s beautiful,” you said softly, your smile turning tender. “It’s amazing how much of ourselves we pour into these characters.”

“Exactly,” Drew agreed. “And sometimes it’s terrifying, but when it resonates with people, it feels worth it.”

“It definitely resonated with me,” you assured him. “And I’m sure with countless others too.”

“That’s really nice to hear,” he said with a soft smile.

“How was it for you to work with Luca? Because I remember it being one of the highlights of my career.”

Drew’s eyes lit up at the mention of Luca Guadagnino, and he leaned forward slightly, as if the memory itself was a magnet pulling him closer. “Oh, working with Luca was… incredible,” he said, his voice laced with awe. “He’s got this way of creating such a safe, open space on set. It’s almost like he’s not just directing—he’s inviting you into this world he’s building in his head.”

You nodded eagerly, your own memories of working with Luca bringing a nostalgic smile to your face. “I know exactly what you mean. He makes it feel like you’re collaborating on this deeply personal piece of art, rather than just executing someone else’s vision.”

“Exactly!” Drew said, gesturing animatedly. “And he has this way of pulling things out of you that you didn’t even know you had. Like, he’ll ask you one simple question, and suddenly you’re diving into this emotional rabbit hole.”

You laughed, tilting your head in agreement. “He asked me once, ‘What would this character, Maren in my case, dream about?’ and it completely changed how I approached the next scene.”

Drew’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “He asked me the exact same question!”

“No way!” you exclaimed, your laughter spilling out in disbelief. “I love that! It’s honestly such a deceptively simple question, but it opens up so many layers.”

“It really does,” Drew said, chuckling. “And then you’re sitting there like, ‘Okay, now I have to rethink everything I thought I knew about this character.’”

“It’s kind of genius, though,” you added. “He makes you work harder, but not in a way that feels forced. It’s like… he trusts you to figure it out, but he gives you these breadcrumbs to follow.”

“Exactly,” Drew said again, his tone growing softer. “I think that’s why his films feel so intimate, he gets the human part so right.”

You smiled, letting his words settle in the air for a moment. “I think that’s what makes working with him feel like such a privilege. It’s not just about telling a story—it’s about feeling it.”

Drew nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “And those are the moments that stick with you, you know? The ones where you felt something real, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Completely,” you agreed, your voice soft with sincerity. “Those moments are why we do this.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the weight of the conversation settling in the cozy studio. Then, Drew broke the quiet with a grin. “Okay, but did Luca make you do those impromptu rehearsals at, like, the crack of dawn?”

“Oh my God, yes!” you burst out, your eyes widening. “I’d just roll out of bed with zero coffee and somehow be expected to pour my soul into a scene.”

Drew laughed, his face lighting up. “Right? It’s like, ‘Good morning, here’s your emotional breakdown for the day.’”

You laughed along with him, the shared experience adding another thread to the easy camaraderie forming between you. “But honestly, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

“Same,” Drew said, his expression softening again. “For Luca? Anytime.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed, your eyes locking with his for a moment before the warmth of the studio light reminded you both that the cameras were still rolling.

Drew shifted in his seat slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You know, it’s kind of wild—hearing you talk about all these incredible experiences. You’ve been doing this for so long, and yet it’s like you’re just getting started.”

You tilted your head with a small smile. “That’s sweet of you to say. But yeah, I guess I have been in this industry for most of my life. It’s all I’ve ever really known.”

Drew’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s crazy to think about. I didn’t even consider acting until after college. You must’ve been, what, ten? Eleven?”

“Eight, actually,” you corrected with a chuckle. “My first role was in this little indie film. I was basically just the kid who ran around in the background eating ice cream, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever.”

He laughed, clearly amused. “That’s adorable. And now you’re the Hollywood It Girl. No big deal.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your laughter light. “Oh, stop it. But yeah, it’s been a journey. Growing up on sets definitely shaped me, for better or worse. Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like to have a more ‘normal’ childhood.”

Drew’s smile softened. “That must’ve been such a whirlwind. I can’t even imagine starting that young. I didn’t even think about acting seriously until high school.”

“Oh, I’ve read about that!” You said, your voice lighting up. “You were all about sports growing up, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted with a chuckle. “I was your typical small-town kid—baseball, basketball, you name it. I was convinced I was going to go pro in something, but clearly, that didn’t pan out.”

“Well, I think acting suits you pretty well.”

“Thank you,” he says with a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah, the real shift happened in high school when I joined a drama class. It was all Samuel Beckett and absurdist plays, which at the time I thought was the coolest thing ever.”

You leaned forward, intrigued. “So that’s what pulled you in? Drama class?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a nod. “And then I went to Western Carolina for college. I double-majored in English and theater, thinking, ‘If this acting thing doesn’t work out, I’ll at least have a backup plan.’”

“That’s so realistic of you,” you said with a laugh. “Meanwhile, I was ten, telling anyone who’d listen that I was going to win an Oscar one day.”

“And look at you now,” Drew said, gesturing to you with an almost reverent smile. “You made it happen.”

You chuckled, a bit flustered by his admiration. “Well, not quite, just an Oscar nominee for now. But thank you. You know, I think your journey’s pretty incredible too. A double major? That’s no joke. And starting later in the game like you did… it must have felt like a slow burn, but it’s clearly paid off.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Drew said thoughtfully. “It was definitely a slower burn for me. I didn’t land my first real gig until I’d been auditioning for what felt like forever.”

“I think that makes your journey even more special,” you said, your tone sincere. “You came into it with all this life experience and maturity. It shows in your work, you know? There’s this depth to your performances that’s just… rare.”

Drew’s ears turned a little pink, and he laughed softly, glancing down at his hands. “Wow, you’re gonna make me blush over here.”

“Good,” you said with a teasing smile. “It’s only fair after all the compliments you’ve been throwing my way.”

He looked up, his grin sheepish but warm. “Touché. But seriously, hearing that from someone like you—someone who’s been at this for so long and is so insanely talented—it means a lot.”

“Well,” you replied with a playful tilt of your head, “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially mutual fans.”

Drew laughed at that, the sound easy and genuine. “I can live with that.”

The conversation shifted into more comfortable territory as the two of you shared experiences, trading stories about acting and the film industry. Drew, now feeling at ease, leaned forward with renewed interest.

“You know,” he began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “I've been thinking about how different TV shows and movies are, especially when it comes to the pacing and character development. Like, in a show, we have to maintain this ongoing energy for the characters over multiple seasons. But with movies, it’s a totally different vibe, right?”

You nodded, understanding immediately where he was going. “It’s definitely a huge shift. With TV, you’re given time to build on a character slowly. Every episode is another chapter, so you can explore new facets of them and keep the audience hooked for longer periods of time. But movies, they’re this intense sprint. You have to get everything across in just two hours or so, but in a way that feels just as layered and satisfying.”

Drew's eyes lit up with excitement, clearly passionate about the topic. "Exactly! You have to balance the action and suspense while still giving the characters these moments of vulnerability. Over multiple seasons, you can really let them grow and change. It's like a slow burn. But when you're doing a movie, you don’t have the luxury of that buildup. It has to be this concentrated emotional punch right from the start.”

“That’s one of the biggest challenges of film, for sure," you agreed. "In a film, every second counts. You can’t afford to waste a moment. But I think what’s also interesting is how both mediums can explore a character’s journey from different angles. TV shows can dive into their backstory in more detail, but movies... they really need to hit those emotional beats and leave an impact without dragging it out."

Drew smiled, clearly engaged in the discussion. “In TV shows you need that perfect balance of suspense, character development, and personal growth. And then, at the end of the season, you drop a huge bombshell that leaves people wanting more.”

You laughed, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Sounds like you’ve been doing some serious thinking about it. What’s the secret to keeping the audience hooked without losing the depth of your character?”

He leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I think it’s about letting the characters evolve with the story. You need to make sure the audience sees the human side of your character, even when they're in these crazy situations. It’s what keeps people invested in the long run.”

“You’ve really got the process figured out,” you said with a smile. “But you’re right—it’s a different rhythm for TV. With a movie, you get to go deep quickly, but with a show, you have to keep it dynamic and varied. And let’s not forget, you need that cliffhanger at the end to make people binge-watch the next season.”

Drew’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re giving away all the secrets! Next thing you know, people will be expecting a cliffhanger every time they watch a movie."

“Well, movies and TV are both art, but they demand different approaches,” you said, “and you’re doing an amazing job balancing both. I’m honestly so excited to see where your career goes next. Both worlds are lucky to have you.”

He chuckled softly, clearly humbled. “Thanks. I think I’m just lucky to be a part of both. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in a show that gets people talking for days?”

“Right? You’ve got Outer Banks, which has such a dedicated fanbase, and then movies like Queer that touch people in such a different way. It’s amazing to watch your versatility.”

He leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep up with you. Honestly, your transition from action to more emotional roles is inspiring. I hope I can pull off something even close to what you’ve done with your career.”

Your smile softened, your voice sincere. “Well, you’re already doing it, Drew. You’re already there. It’s not just about the roles—it’s about the heart you put into them. And you’ve definitely got that.”

Drew’s smile faltered for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze softened, as if he were truly reflecting on what you’d said. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms but keeping his eyes on you, his expression thoughtful.

“It's crazy, isn't it?” He began, his voice a little quieter now, “The idea of giving so much of yourself to something that feels so... intimate. But when it works, when the audience feels it too, there's nothing like it.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your voice a little quieter now. “That's the real magic, when the audience feels like they know the characters, like they're right there with them. It’s not about the plot twists or the fancy sets—it’s about the emotions that we build and share with them.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to you. “Speaking of emotions, I just saw your new movie, We Live In Time,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “It’s one of those films that stays with you, you know? It’s raw in a way that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s also beautiful. How did you tap into that for Almut?”

Your expression softened as you thought back on the experience. We Live In Time had been a journey—a raw, almost therapeutic one. “It was an emotional rollercoaster, honestly,” you said, leaning back slightly, letting the memory settle in. “I think the hardest part was showing that moment where her whole world shifts. It was such a raw, profound type of emotion I had to channel in order to do justice to the character and her experiences.”

Drew sat back, letting the weight of the conversation settle. “I think that's what makes your career so incredible. You never just play a character. You become them. And you take us with you. Every heartbreak, every triumph, every moment of doubt... we feel it all with you. That's what makes your work so powerful.”

You met his gaze, feeling the depth of the conversation linger between you both. “It’s all about connection, right? Connecting with the character, with the audience, and with the emotions that we all share as humans. Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to make sense of time, love, and the moments we get.”

Drew smiled, his expression genuine and soft. “Well, you’ve definitely made sense of it for me. We Live In Time—it’s not just a movie. It’s a reminder to cherish what we have. And that, in itself, is something special.”

You smiled back, your heart full as you let the words sink in. “Thank you, Drew. That’s really sweet of you.”

You both shared a comfortable silence for a moment, before Drew broke it with a playful grin. “You know, it’s clear you’ve mastered the art of vulnerability on screen, but I can’t help but wonder—did you ever have moments on set where it was just... impossible to take things seriously?”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh, absolutely. In fact, as a kid, it was all impossible to be serious,” you admitted, shaking your head at the memory. “I remember this one time during a scene on set when I was probably around 9 or 10. We were supposed to be doing this emotional scene, and I had to cry on cue. But instead of crying, I couldn’t stop giggling. It was a dramatic moment, and my co-star was all serious and trying to get through the scene, but I just... lost it.”

Drew raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Giggling during a dramatic scene? What happened?”

“Well, my director, bless her heart, kept trying to give me these 'serious actor' looks. She was this no-nonsense kind of woman, and she had this way of narrowing her eyes when things weren’t going well. I tried my best to hold it together, but then my co-star—who was way too good at being serious—looked at me and just gave this super intense stare, and that was it. I burst out laughing right in the middle of the take.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head. “I can just picture that. You were probably trying to hold it together, but it must have been so hard with all that tension in the air.”

“I swear, the more I tried not to laugh, the harder it became,” you continued, grinning at the memory. “It was one of those moments where you’re like, 'Why am I even here? I can’t do this.' But somehow, I got through it. The director had to take a deep breath, and we did a few more takes. Eventually, we got it done, but I think we all were on the verge of cracking up the whole time.”

Drew let out a laugh, clearly imagining the scene. “I can’t blame you. I feel like as a kid, you have no filter. Everything feels like a joke, and it’s so hard to be serious when everyone else is trying so hard.”

“You have no idea,” you said, your voice still light. “There were so many times I’d be doing a serious scene, and I’d start thinking about something random, like a certain meme or a funny sound someone made on set—and then, bam, it was game over. I’d be holding in a laugh like my life depended on it.”

Drew smirked, leaning in a little. “I totally feel that. I mean, as an adult, I still have moments where I struggle to keep a straight face. I once had a scene where I was supposed to be super intense, but the prop guy was standing just out of frame, and he made this ridiculous face at me—completely threw me off. I couldn’t stop laughing, and it ended up taking hours to finish the scene because we kept cracking up. Honestly, I think the crew started to get annoyed with us after a while.”

“See?” you said with a grin. “It never really changes. Truthfully, the older you get, the harder it becomes to hold it in. But then you look at the footage and realize how much fun you actually had, and that makes it all worth it.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. Sometimes it’s the moments you didn’t plan for that end up being the most memorable. Like when you have a laugh on set, and suddenly you feel closer to everyone, even though you’re supposed to be in character.”

“Exactly,” you said, your smile widening. “There’s something so beautiful about those unscripted moments. It reminds you that acting is, at its core, about connecting—whether that’s through laughter or the heavy stuff. And even though I had my fair share of giggling fits as a kid, I think those moments taught me just as much as the serious ones. Maybe more.”

Drew leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “It's funny how those little moments—like a laugh in the middle of a serious scene—can end up being the ones you remember the most. I think those are the ones that make the work feel real, you know?”

You smiled, your gaze distant as you reflected on the years of working on sets. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Yeah, like those unscripted moments,” Drew added, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the sentiment lingered in the air. “They give the performance an authenticity that you can’t get from just following the script to a tee.”

You nodded, the words hanging between you like a shared understanding. “Exactly. And as a kid, I was so focused on getting it ‘right’—on being perfect—that I missed the beauty of just being in the moment. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how important it is to let go of the idea of perfection. It's in those mistakes, the wrong takes, the bloopers—that's where you find the truth.”

Drew's expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. “I think it’s key not to be afraid to show the mess, the imperfect parts of a character, because that’s what makes them human.”

A small chuckle escaped you, the warmth of the moment filling the studio. “Right? We’re all just a little bit of a mess, trying to figure it out, but that’s what makes the journey worth it. We’re constantly learning, constantly evolving, and we bring that to our work. The growth, the mistakes—it all shapes us.”

Drew nodded, his gaze shifting as if reflecting on those same ideas. “Yeah, and the growth never stops, does it? Just when you think you’ve figured it out, something new happens, and it challenges you again.”

“That's the beauty of it,” you said, your voice quieter now, the bond between you both deepening. “The challenge is what keeps it exciting, keeps you moving forward.”

Drew grinned, a playful spark lighting his eyes once more. “Well, I guess we’re both lifelong students of this thing called acting, huh?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a laugh, the lightness returning. “And just like any good student, we’ll always be learning. Who knows, maybe we'll even get better at not laughing in the middle of dramatic scenes.”

Drew let out a hearty laugh, nodding enthusiastically. “I think that’s going to take years of practice, honestly.”

You both shared a moment of genuine laughter, the warmth of your conversation filling the space around you. You leaned back into the chairs, the laughter still lingering in the air, a sense of camaraderie that made the space between you feel comfortable and open. You continued sharing stories, moving seamlessly from one experience to the next.

The conversation began to slow, the easy flow of stories fading into a comfortable silence, as you both shared an unspoken understanding. The light laughter that had filled the room now felt like a warm, lingering hum between you.

Drew shifted slightly in his chair, his gaze turning toward you with a subtle, thoughtful expression. “You know,” he began, his voice softer now, “I really hope we get to work together sometime. I think it’d be incredible. It’s the kind of thing where I can already imagine what it’d be like. Just... easy, real. Like this.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your composure, offering a smile that spoke volumes. “I’d love that. If you receive a call from your manager these days… maybe I had something to do with it, so be prepared.”

The air between you both was charged, the quiet intensity of the moment not lost on either of you. There was something unspoken, something deeper that neither of you addressed outright but that seemed to hang there all the same. The connection was undeniable, yet it lingered in the silence, unspoken, but clear.

Drew finally broke the spell with a playful grin, his eyes flicking back to yours. “Oh, I’ll be ready. Can’t wait to see what magic we create together.”

You returned his smile, your heart racing ever so slightly, though you kept it hidden behind the ease of your words. “I’m sure it’ll be something incredible.”

As the interview wrapped up, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you both, an attraction that neither of you had to mention but was so clearly felt. The kind of connection that could only be hinted at, but would never truly fade. It was the kind of moment that would stay with both of you long after the cameras stopped rolling.

“Thank you,” you said softly as the final moments of the interview started to loom, your voice carrying a depth that reflected everything unsaid between you. “This has been amazing. Honestly, it feels like we’ve been talking for hours, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

He nodded, his expression soft but genuine. “I feel the same way. This has been one of the most honest and open conversations I’ve had in a long time.”

The crew began to pack up, signaling that the interview was at its end, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to break the moment. The usual chatter and movement around you felt distant, as if the two of you were in your own world for just a little longer.

“You know,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, a hint of sincerity threading through, “I think we make a pretty good team even just sitting here talking. Imagine what we could do with a whole script.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded, the words feeling right, but the undertone of something more—something unsaid—hung in the air. “Yeah, I think we’d be unstoppable.”

The moment stretched between you both, filled with the kind of comfortable tension that comes when you realize you’ve shared something real. Something that felt like it could turn into something more.

You both stood up, a final, lingering moment before the usual goodbye. Drew extended a hand, his gaze holding yours a beat longer than necessary.

“Take care, okay?” he said, his voice warm, like the words carried more than just a polite farewell.

You shook his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering just a moment longer than expected. “You too, Drew,” you replied, your voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of meaning that mirrored his own.

As you turned to gather your things, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you with that same thoughtful expression, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. The faintest smile curved his lips, as if he were replaying the conversation in his mind.

“See you around,” he called out, the words simple but loaded with promise.

“Yeah,” you said, meeting his gaze one last time. “See you around.”

Walking away, you felt a peculiar lightness, as though something intangible had shifted, leaving you both exhilarated and curious. It wasn’t every day you met someone who made you feel seen in such a profound way, and as you left the studio, you found yourself smiling, a quiet hope blooming in your chest.

And for a fleeting second, you allowed yourself to wonder what could come next.

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innerfare · 3 months ago

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You’re Jealous

Summary: You get jealous of someone else in his life.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid

Genre: Slight Angst // Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Luffy:

He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.”

Zoro:

He didn’t mention Perona was also at Mihawk’s castle for those two years until a few months after the crew gets together. He tells a story that features her, and you realize there was a woman keeping him company. Your heart drops into your stomach. Zoro insists he didn’t mention her because he didn’t think she was relevant; the only thing Perona did those two years was annoy him. He’s actually the one who won’t let it go, not you (even though you are pretty jealous). Whereas you’d prefer not to talk about it, Zoro is wracked with guilt because he’d never considered the whole thing in a relationship context. Him fretting constantly over it actually heals your jealousy because you realize you’ve never seen him panic over the prospect of hurting anyone else’s feelings.

Sanji:

Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life.

Ace:

He collects people without trying, and often times, without realizing, either. Ace thinks he’s just making friends, but you see the way the women he laughs and shares drinks with are drawn to him like plants to the sun. He promises them freedom and adventure (and he has a very nice laugh), and you can see how it excites them. You don’t really mind it, knowing Ace well enough to see the way he holds those women at arm’s length, even if he seems close with them (such is the magic of Fire First Ace). But Yamato makes you jealous. It’s not hearing the way they laughed together but hearing the way they fought that gets to you. You know how Ace lives to fight and even just roughhouse, you know how he’s a rough and tumble guy, and you worry you’re not tough enough. Should you be punching his arm when he makes a joke? Should you be trying to trip him out on deck? What should you be doing? When you finally come clean with Ace about what’s been bothering you, he actually laughs. “If I wanted to be with someone who gives me hell, I’d be sleeping in Marco’s cabin every night. Besides,” he says, scooping you up in his arms, “I like being able to manhandle you.”

Sabo:

Sabo is a flirt, and you knew that going into your relationship. It actually doesn’t bother you when he flashes that charming smile of his at someone else or swoops in to save a damsel in distress (a speciality of his) and even serves to entertain, especially on the rare occasions his flirtations are rebuked. What does bother you, though, is his tight relationship with Koala. You know it’s ridiculous to be envious, you know Koala would sooner saw off her arm than kiss the man she considers her irksome big brother, but they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and Koala has been through so much with Sabo that the pair have such a close bond. It’s not the angry kind of jealousy that bubbles up in you when Koala mentions something about Sabo’s past that she assumes you know but you don’t, just the sad kind that you try to keep to yourself. Surprisingly, Sabo notices, though you don’t realize until he hugs you from behind and mumbles in your ear that he’s glad you’re the only one who knows he has a skincare routine, his silly words diffusing your mood and acting as the exact affirmation you needed. If it’s not enough, though, he’ll happily prove his loyalty to you by challenging Koala to a karate match, though.

Law:

Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty.

Kid:

He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #one piece angst #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #sabo x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #eustass kid x reader

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mariasont · 8 months ago

Text

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear.

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen.

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly.

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest.

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped.

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily.

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand.

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip.

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down.

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all.

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny.

You went back to your phone.

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud.

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter. It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip.

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood.

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side.

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #criminal minds smut #hotch smut #hotchner #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #Spotify

3K notes · View notes

lomltrentarnold · 5 months ago

Text

someone — jude bellingham ₊˚ෆ

contents: 1.6k words, fem!reader (she/her), fwb!bellingham is down bad, lil angsty but happy ending, they like each other so much SIGH

🍓 hana’s note: hi my loves!! hope u enjoy <33 i actually had fun writing this, please tell me what u think 🫶 sorry if nothing makes sense LOL

📞 main masterlist!

Jude was sure that the muscle on his wrist had gotten stronger in the span of three days. He moved to check his phone again for the hundredth time that day. The whole situation feels like a thirteen year old boy waiting for his girlfriend to reply to his text.

The only difference is that he’s twenty one years old, and his ‘girlfriend’ is not actually his girlfriend.

His gloomy mood attracted his assistant who was off clicking the keyboard computer.

“Whose text are you waiting for?” they asked, immediately bringing him out of his little pity party.

His heart stuttered, “No one.” he replies, shaking his head, before tucking the phone away into his pocket.

A skeptical look was thrown, “Yeah, sure.”

Jude took a minute before he relented, “She’s…someone.” he sighed, not really in the mood to throw up his gut to his assistant.

He ran his hands through his hair down to his face, frustrated.

They were sure this ‘someone’ was not just anyone, “The same ‘someone’ who had you giggling and kicking your feet last week?” his assistant smirked, noticing the little smile that Jude always wears every single time he stares at his phone.

But not in the last few days.

Recently, he has been more sad when he stares at his phone.

Heat trailed from the back of his neck to his cheeks, “I was not giggling and kicking my feet.” tummy twisting with nerves.

“Oh, you so were. She has you wrapped around her fingers, Bellingham.” the keyboard clicking stopped, as a teasing smirk was sent his way.

Jude’s heart made a backflip–oh she definitely does– “She’s just.. special. And I really really like her.” his cheeks heating up more as your pretty face fresh flashes in his mind.

“So? Why don't you ask her out on a date?”

He sighed, “I would, but she’s ghosting me.”

“Someone ghosted THE Jude Bellingham? Damn, your ego must be hurt.” they laughed.

Jude took a deep breath, “It's not about my ego, I just–” he paused, “I thought we were going somewhere, I like her and I thought that she liked me but I guess...” his voice trailing out as sadness coats his words.

His assistant noticed how Jude’s head dropped in disappointment, immediately feeling bad for him, and an idea lightbulb immediately went off, “Go to her place then.”

“What?”

The assistant shrugged their shoulders, “Go to her place. Ask her out.”

He coughed out, “She doesn’t wanna see me.”

“Ask her face to face, get confirmation. If she really doesn’t wanna see you then, fine. But try at least! Fight for her!” their encouragement send Jude into a full dedicated state. Already having a full plan in his head.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Screen lights from the tv illuminated your already dark room with a movie playing in the background. You really should be asleep right now. But your mind was too cloudy with a certain, seriously attractive, very sweet and nice footballer.

What did you think was gonna happen?

Getting into a friends-with-benefits with someone you harboured a big fat crush on was not the brightest idea.

Jude is a bigshot footballer, everyones’ starboy, all he needs to do is smile and all girls fall to his feet (including you). The strategy of pushing him away was pretty solid, considering that he might not even notice that you haven’t been replying to his texts.

He probably has hundreds of girls on his phone anyways.

Not that you care, he can do whatever he wants, he’s not your boyfriend.

Not your boyfriend.

Then why does it still bother you?

A sudden knock, broke you out of your spiralling session, shooting your heart rate up. Who knocks at 2 in the morning?

A buzz from your phone alerted you.

—

bellingham :)

I’m outside your apartment

I need to talk to you

—

You contemplated opening the door, what do you even say to him? Another knock.

Another buzz.

—

bellingham :)

Please.

—

The door swung open and Jude was met with the sight of you, with tired eyes and a scowl on your face. You don't look too happy seeing him, and he doesn't blame you.

“Are you insane?! What do you want, Jude? It’s two in the morning!” you huffed out, taking his wrist and pulling him inside. You do not want to get a complaint from your old cranky neighbours.

Both of your hands tingle the second it touches, fingers twitching as you hope the other doesn't notice. You move to pause the movie, hands gravitating towards the blanket on your couch before draping it around your shoulders. Trying to cover up your well-loved worn pyjamas.

You look like a mess.

Jude’s hand sweats in his pockets, his heart was pounding after finally being in your presence. With your messy hair, pretty droopy eyes, paired with your profile being highlighted by the tv. His heart rate shoots up when your eyes meet his.

You look really pretty.

Focus, Bellingham!

He awkwardly coughs, trying to cut the thick tension in the room, “You still watching that show?” he voiced out, hand gesturing to the tv behind you.

It was a show recommendation from him. You had made fun of it at first, but then the plot was too good to be ignored, you needed to know how it ends.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah, I was curious.” voice small as your hands tightened around the blanket, bringing comfort to you.

A beat of awkward silence went on.

And Jude has had enough of it and decided to go for it, head first, no thoughts.

"Why are you ignoring me?" he finally said, saddened brown eyes met yours. You can feel your defence chip away the more you look at him.

You avert your eyes immediately, trying to formulate words, "I'm busy."

"That you ghosted me for three days straight?" he scoffed.

"Jude-"

"I don't think you understand how much you’re in my head." his voice shook, heart trembling in his chest, “I wake up and my first thought is to check if you have texted me back and you know how embarrassing it is to not see anything?"

You scoffed, “So this is about your ego?”

“No! I didn’t say that–“

Another scoff, "Jude don’t lie, you get messages every single day. Your notifications are always flooded! Don’t act like I’m suddenly special!” you rolled your eyes, lungs burning with anger.

His face contorted into confusion before turning into hurt, “Did I give you that impression? That I don't care because you’re not special?” Jude’s voice cracked, maybe it was your head playing tricks but you swore his eyes were glossy with tears.

Anymore second looking at him than you might just break.

“Jude-” you started.

“Because I do! I’ll buy you more flowers, pick up your favourite coffee, watch those reality shows that you love so much, we can have a picnic or even a fancy dinner!” he rambled, hands animated as his feet started to move towards you, eyes pleading. “I really want this to work. I want to be in your life, as your boyfriend.”

The distance between two got so small that you can feel his warm breath hitting your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

He smells like mint.

Did he chew one before he got here?

The call of your name hits your ears, his voice soft and sweet. You really like how he says your name. You miss it. You like him. You miss him.

“Please say something.” Jude whispered, eyes involuntarily dropping to your lips, cheeks warming under his gaze.

“I really really like you.” you softly said, nothing but a whisper but it sends just into cloud nine.

His eyes shined, mouth already opening to say something before you cut him off.

“But-“

His heart dropped.

“But?”

“Jude, you can literally have anyone you want in the world!” you raised your voice. Tears pricking at the edge of your eyes. Why does he have to be so complicated? Why won’t he understand that you will never be enough for him?

By now, he can have a general sense on why you ghosted him. You have been insecure and worried ever since this little relationship started. Jude partly understands it, his popularity is intense and the media is poking at every nook and cranny of his life. Judging at the littlest things he does.

But he also doesn’t understand because-

“But, I want you! Don’t want anyone else!” he exclaimed, big calloused hands move to the sides of your face, thumb softly running on your cheeks. “I want you.” he added, softly pressing a kiss at the apple of both of your cheeks.

A lovesick smile broke out on your face before you can even control yourself. “I want you too.”

Jude eyes twinkled at the sight. His heart elevates in the process. Was this a dream?

“Pinch me.” he snickered.

Your hands move around his waist to pinch his skin, “Dork.” you giggled, his smile getting wider at the sound.

A comforting silence blankets over you both. Smitten eyes staring at each other with heavy yearning. Hearts fully enamoured with the other.

A soft kiss was planted on your lips, tender and gentle as his hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He can’t get enough of you.

Your whole body was on fire. It has been so long since you both got together.

“Jude-“

“Mhm.” he hummed, lips still pressing against yours. His hands wander to wrap around your waist. It feels like he wants to eat you whole.

He definitely does.

You carefully pull away, chuckling at the small whine that leaves him as he chases you again, “It’s late.” you affectionately scolded.

“Let’s go to sleep then.”

“Together?” you teased.

“Yes, please.”

Well, how can you say no to that?

reblog for a kiss <3

#HI HI HI HI HI!!!!#i was giggling while writing this LOL #love u babies hope u guys are doing good 🫶#hana writes!#jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham fluff

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starkeyisthelastname · 6 months ago

Note

Okay buuut… not to be angsty about it but do pornstar!Rafe or reader ever have a moment where they’re just like “I can’t do this anymore” and they like try to not see each other but obviously that doesn’t work out… or probably last very long… I could see Rafe being emo about it and not being able to get it up for a scene and just walking off directly to your house all like “seriously what the fuck have you done to me!?”

okay so like I see this happening after their little talk, but Rafe is the one who says he can’t do it. 😭

Everything seemed good, the two of you even fucked again after smoking and talking briefly. The both of you left that the night with even stronger feelings which meant Rafe almost needed to step back for a minute. To you, it came out of nowhere and you felt rejected after reading the text he sent a few days after when you asked if he wanted to come over that night. ‘I need to focus on work rn. Agent told me I’m losing fans. Can’t do this anymore.”

It was clear Rafe was scared of something, and wasn’t going to tell you what it was. At least not right now anyway. As soon as you felt rejection, you became closed off. You didn’t even bother replying to his text, wiping the tears away over the fact you would probably be nothing more than a past fling to him. You wanted to hate yourself for falling for a guy, whose only focus was pussy and money.

For the first time when it came to a woman’s feelings, Rafe was feeling very guilty. He continued on with his week the best he could, trying to act like it didn’t bother him that he had called things off. After you left that night, he sat in his thoughts, thinking about if he really wanted to end his career for one girl he didn’t know much about. He knew the answer. He wanted you. Instead he came up with every excuse on why he should continue working, and before he could stop himself, he was sending you that message.

It was the next week when he showed up to set, pissed off at himself really, but taking it out on everyone else. You hadn’t texted him at all and he hadn’t tried to text back because a part of him felt like he had already fucked it up. He was affected by this more than he should be and for the first time, he didn’t want to film at all, not even try and fake it. As he stood trying to get himself hard, getting ready to shoot, he just couldn’t do it, which only pissed him off more. He knew he couldn’t continue his day like this without seeing you again.

You nearly cut yourself with the knife you had been using to chop vegetables when you heard the pounding on the door. You frowned, wiping your hands and quickly going to answer the door. You didn’t get two words in, before Rafe stormed in, wrapping a hand around your throat. “What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?” He asked, blue eyes dark.

“R-Rafe what the fuck you doing?” You asked, gasping for breath. You hadn’t spoken to him since you left his house a week ago, and hadn’t ever responded to his dick of a text. You couldn’t deny that you had missed his touch, even if it had only been a week, it still felt longer than that. You craved this man, no matter how much you disliked him right now.

Within a second, he was turning you around so that his front was pressed directly against your back. “Can’t even fuckin work, because you and this perfect cunt are on my mind 24/7.” He spat in your ear. Your head spun as he continued to squeeze your throat, his other hand lifting up the little dress you had on. He chuckled to himself as he noticed your lack of panties, making it all the more easier to slam himself into you, after quickly undoing his pants. His dick was now harder than ever, stretching you open for the first time in over a week.

“R-Rafe!” You cried, only to get three thick digits shoved in your mouth.

Rafe was ashamed of himself for even considering turning you away, he didn’t even want to look at you right now, wondering why you had to be so goddamn perfect and why he had to feel this way about some girl he didn’t even know. “Shut up. Don’t wanna hear shit from you now. Just take this fuckin dick like a good whore.” His tone low, dripping like venom in your ear, while you gagged on his hand. He fucked you like he hated you, but the truth was he couldn’t get enough of you. He had found his new addiction.

#rafe cameron #pornstar!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron concepts #rafe concepts #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #obx #obx smut #outer banks

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andvys · 7 months ago

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter seventeen ⭐︎ What am I supposed to do? If there’s no you.

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of unrequited love, mean!robin, slight jealousy, this chapter is mostly written from Robin's pov and there are only a few moments of Steve's and Blondie's pov

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Robin uncovers Steve's secrets and more... but he doesn't get the reactions from her that he expected.

Word count: 6k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with some new ideas for the story and uh, buckle up and enjoy it... hehehe also thanks for helping me, my love

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Steve’s smile seems permanent nowadays, never falling, always lingering, even when Keith is scolding him about something he had done wrong or hadn’t done at all.

His skin is glowing and his eyes are full of happy emotions, he seems giddy, always excited about something.

Until now, Robin was sure that she had seen him happy before – when he saw her again after she went on a two weeks trip with her mom, when his favorite movie came out and he dragged her to the theater, when he found the perfect brown coat that he had been looking for at every store for weeks.

And yes, he was happy in these moments, but this, the happiness that is stuck on his face now, is something else, something different, something deep.

And whatever it is that is making him happy, should make her feel the same way, because he is her best friend, and all that she wants for him is exactly this – happiness. But how can she feel any positive emotions, when he is keeping secrets from her? When he isn’t letting her be part of this? When he is cutting her out?

Robin was always sure that they would never keep secrets from each other, but it’s happening, it’s happening again for her, being pushed aside, being left out, losing a best friend – because this is what it is, right? She is losing him, he is beginning to cut her out of his life, not telling her things he would’ve normally not shut up about, because he talks about everything with her, at least he used to.

This is how it always begins, this is always the first step of losing a friend. She is no stranger to it.

But it hurts, it hurts worse than it ever did before.

Because this is Steve, someone she considers a soulmate.

Someone she thought would never do this to her.

“What’s with the grumpy face?” Steve asks, pulling her out of her depressing thoughts.

Robin raises her eyebrows, looking away from the passing trees, she sinks deeper into the passenger seat and turns her head to look at him, shrugging.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asks as he glances at her with a look of concern.

No.

She should say no and confront him but she doesn’t know how without making things awkward, without pressuring him to talk, without risking losing him sooner than later.

“Yeah,” she mumbles and reaches for the backpack between her feet, busying herself with it as she rummages through the tiny pockets to find her chapstick.

“Are you sure?”

She can’t help but roll her eyes at the skeptic tone in his voice, she keeps her head low, gaze locking onto the chapstick she has been looking for, she picks it out and leans back again.

“Yeah, just tired,” she murmurs.

Steve keeps glancing back and forth between her and the road, holding the steering wheel tightly as he shoots her a teasing smirk, lowering the volume of the song playing.

“Long night with Vickie?”

Her lips twitch and despite the annoyance bubbling inside of her, her cheeks heat up, growing darker until she’s blushing red. She applies her chapstick, welcoming the peach taste on her lips. She can feel his eyes on her, and it only makes her blush deeper as she hides her face from him.

It confirms his question and it makes him chuckle.

“I’m glad you’re having fun, Robin.”

“Shut up,” she murmurs under her breath, unable to fight the redness off her cheeks. She closes the chapstick again, putting the cap back into place, she leans down to put it back in her backpack when it falls from her hands and rolls under the seat, making her groan and curse in annoyance.

“Always turning into a klutz when you’re nervous,” Steve comments, causing her to glare at him.

“I’m not nervous.”

Steve chuckles, narrowing his eyes at her, “yes you are, I mention Vickie and you’re turning into a blushing, nervous little girl with a first crush even though she is literally your girlfriend.”

“That is so not true!” She gapes at him, despite it being true.

He shakes his head in amusement, “yes it is, in case you forgot, you’re my best friend, I know you like the back of my hand and right now, you’re nervous!”

Maybe his words should put her mind at ease, maybe they should be enough to show her that she is not losing him, after all, but it’s not that easy, is it?

She only rolls her eyes in response and looks away, turning back to the window and looking out at the downtown streets now. She feels relieved to see the Family Video sign, looking forward to jumping out of his car and throwing herself into work so she can stop thinking about her depressing thoughts and giving into the fears of losing him.

Maybe she is just overthinking, the way she always does.

The moment Steve stops the car, Robin gets out and slams the door, opening the one to the backseat so she can look for her chapstick. She leans down and squints her eyes, patting the car mats before she stretches her arm out under the seat, trying to find it.

Steve walks around the car and stops in front of her, his eyes flash with amusement as he takes in the sight of his best friend, her eyebrows squished together, tongue poking out between her lips, her body angled uncomfortably as she searches for her newest chapstick.

“I swear to god is there a portal all my chapsticks vanish to?” She grumbles.

Steve snorts at her words, “yeah, I’m sure they all pile up in the upside down somewhere.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised! Every time I buy a new chapstick it just fucking disappears!”

“That’s because you leave them everywhere,” Steve chuckles, placing his hands on his hips as he keeps watching instead of helping. His grin grows when she throws the middle finger at him.

The look of concentration on Robin’s face, transforms into something else, confusion and curiosity, her brows shoot up instead, her lips parting as she reaches for not only her chapstick but also something else, something soft, something lacy. She pulls it out from under the seat, hooking it around her pointer finger, she holds it up in front of her face, examining it before revealing it to Steve.

A lacy thong.

One that clearly belongs to a girl.

One that surely wasn’t there a few weeks back when she helped him clean his car.

So her suspicions weren’t right, after all – she would’ve been surprised if they were.

Steve has been so secretive about whoever it is that he is seeing, she knows that they don’t belong to any of the girls he was hooking up with at the beginning of this year, and she doesn’t even need to see his face to confirm something she already knows.

But if it isn’t one of them and if it isn’t a guy after all, who is he seeing?

Is it someone he is ashamed of?

Is that the reason why he is being so secretive, why he keeps sneaking around behind her back and not telling her the truth about something he wouldn’t have shut up about if it were anyone else?

“Robin?”

Steve’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts and she slowly turns around to face him, with the thong in one hand and her chapstick in the other.

His hands fall off his hips, his hazel eyes grow wide, his lips part and his cheeks grow a cherry red when he sees the flimsy material hanging off her finger.

For a moment, she forgets about his secrets and how much it hurts her that he is hiding from her. The look on his face is so comical, she can’t even help but let the giggles tumble from her lips as she raises back to full height, standing right in front of him as she laughs in his face.

His cheeks grow redder and redder, making her laugh harder.

“I-I uh–” Steve stutters, unable to come up with words to say.

“I-I uh,” Robin mocks him through her giggles, “whose are these?” She asks as she lets them dangle in front of his face, stretching her arm out.

Steve rolls his eyes at her, his blush continuing to grow beneath her gaze. His shoulders slump and his mind panics as he tries to think of what to say.

What can he say?

That these belong to Heidi or Linda or whoever else it was that he had boring sex with before you?

Steve can’t even bring himself to lie, not even to save himself and you.

He can’t mention another girl, just uttering these words would make him feel awful. He can’t do it. He just can’t.

“Hm?” Robin tilts her head, wiggling her brows at him.

As he stands in front of her and he looks into her curious eyes that are layered with something more, he can’t help but wonder what would happen if he just told her. He wants to talk about it, he wants to talk about you, he wants to talk about his feelings that he could only keep to himself so far.

But what would Robin think knowing how horrible he was to you? How horrible you have both been to each other?

She would try to talk some sense into him and make him stop this thing between you and he isn’t ready to let this go, he will never be.

So he turns around and leaves her question unanswered, knowing that she won’t stop until she gets the truth out of him and it makes him nervous but what can he do?

He doesn’t see the way her shoulders slump, the way her eyes cross with defeat, the way she sighs and looks down.

“Come on, we got more important things to do then talk about thongs, Robin.”

“Right,” she murmurs as her teasing smile slowly falls, she throws the black lace back into the car and slams the door before she follows him into the store, staring at his back as she walks behind him.

Steve greets Keith a little kinder than usual, he walks with his back straight and his head held high, he whistles as he makes his way into the office to clock in and she stays quiet, watching closely, observing him and the fresh hickeys on his neck, the ones that haven’t been there yesterday afternoon when he dropped her off at Vickie’s. It’s always the same exact spot, sometimes his neck is littered in them but there is always that one special spot that never misses the mark on his skin, that little spot behind his ear.

That’s how she knows that it’s only one girl that he is seeing and she is also the reason why he is turning down all the others that have been shooting their sickly sweet smiles at him. Something he wouldn’t have done a few months back.

“Are you bringing Vickie tonight?” Steve asks as he throws on his vest, “to game night, I mean?”

Robin furrows her brows, looking over her shoulder at him, “game night? I figured we’d never do that again after what happened with you and uh… Blondie,” she chuckles nervously.

Something in his eyes shifts, something in his demeanor changes for a moment. Sadness, anger and regret crosses his features and she sees it all so clearly but she isn’t surprised, she didn’t mean to strike a nerve but she knows she did.

He felt awful after the words he threw at you, that night.

And knowing him, he still feels the same even when you get along now.

But there is something else in his eyes, something she can’t figure out yet.

Steve breaks eye contact and he scratches the back of his neck as he keeps his eyes trained on the ground.

“I uh, yeah that will never happen again.”

She doesn’t quite understand the meaning his words hold.

And at that time, she also doesn’t know yet, that only a few hours later, she will finally get closer to the answers she has been seeking, that her eyes will be more open to what is happening right in front of her nose.

Because that night, she notices something she hasn’t paid much attention to before but a feeling inside of her, tells her that she should have done that a long time ago.

And maybe, maybe she is just seeing things that aren’t there, that her eyes betray her and want to give her something just so she can put her mind to rest but even after rubbing her eyes, even after squinting and trying to see with a clear mind, the sight in front of her is still there and very much real.

The noises from the living room, the chatter of her friends and the giggles of her girlfriend as Dustin tells her a story, fade into distance as she steps closer and closer to the kitchen where Steve had disappeared to, moments after you have left the living room to get another drink.

You’re standing by the window, face to face and way too close for two people who couldn’t even be near each other, a few months ago. A smile is resting on your face, matching his own.

Steve leans closer to you, whispering words that Robin can’t make out from this distance and it annoys her to no end because she wants to know what he said to you, what exactly made you giggle in a way she never heard you do.

This is strange, this is so very strange – it shouldn’t be, and maybe she wouldn’t even think anything of it had you not been fighting all the time not too long ago, because after all, you two could be just friends who are gossiping about something, the hushed whispers and the amused giggles indicate it at least.

But you aren’t friends, are you?

You are still just Steve and Blondie, forced to be around each other because of your mutual friends, forced to get along to keep the peace.

But maybe things are changing, maybe you are actually getting along now and not because of her or Eddie or even the teens, maybe you are just becoming friends, actual friends.

This is the only explanation to what she is seeing.

Anything else would just be… unbelievable.

And still, she decides to keep a closer eye on Steve and you.

Her suspicions and thoughts she deemed as ‘crazy’ become less and less crazy as time passes and she continues to pay attention to you both, how you talk to each other, how you act around each other, how you look at each other, how Steve behaves when he is around you.

It’s so obvious and it’s so right in front of everyone’s faces and still, she doubts that her suspicions hold any meaning, too insane are the thoughts in her head.

But then the signs start showing – from the pink scrunchie in his car, to the cherry chapstick on his nightstand and the second toothbrush in his bathroom, from the perfume that always lingers on his clothes to the cologne on yours, from the moments you are both not around to the lies he speaks into the phone when she asks why he didn’t come to movie night at Eddie’s place.

And as she grows more aware of his weird behavior and yours, she also notices that there is someone else who is acting differently – Eddie.

She notices the way he looks at you and Steve, the way the latter is getting warning glances and glares, the way you are getting soft ones filled with pity and it confirms it all to her.

You are Steve’s mystery girl.

Eddie knows, why can’t she know?

Does Steve feel embarrassed about you and your shared history of hatred?

Questions keep piling up in her brain and instead of confronting her best friend about it all, she keeps it all to herself, hoping that she won’t have to confront him at all, hoping for him to tell her about it all when he feels comfortable to, hoping that nothing changed between them, that she is still his best friend, that he will still talk to her.

But her wishes don’t come true, Steve doesn’t make the first move, he continues on with the secrets and the lies, he doesn’t notice the implies that she makes when she asks him what he is doing on evenings he isn’t with her and the group, or the way she subtly begins to mention you.

She doesn’t even need the confirmation anymore as days continue to pass, she figures it out on her own, she knows for sure now, her suspicions are no longer… suspicions. And yet, a certain moment, a certain sight that plays right in front of her, still shocks her.

In Hopper’s backyard is where you all find yourselves on a warm Saturday evening, the chatter is loud and the laughter echoes through the garden. The smell of freshly cut grass lingers in the air, as does the smell of sizzling meat from the grill.

Eddie brought Wayne with him, the older man chuckling at his nephew as he watches him stuffing his face with burgers, continuously complimenting Hopper’s ‘cooking’ skills to which the latter laughs.

Robin snorts at Eddie, she can’t tell whether he’s high or just really hungry but the faded look in his eyes gives him away, she blames Argyle for that.

“You should try his waffles!” El grins at Eddie, “Hop makes the best ones!”

“You mean the waffles he pops in the toaster?” Jonathan snorts beside her, making his stepdad chuckle.

“I mean, he puts a lot of stuff on them, it’s really good! Reeses pieces, sprinkles, heavy cream–”

“Ew,” Mike scrunches his nose, shaking his head at his girlfriend, “that’s too much.”

“Says the boy who puts maple syrup on his scrambled eggs,” Nancy laughs at her brother.

“Of course he does, Mike has the worst taste,” Dustin snickers before he takes a bite of his steak. “He also loves raisin cookies!”

“What’s wrong with raisin cookies?” Hopper asks mid chew, furrowing his brows at the teenage boy.

“Do not insult his raisin cookies,” Joyce points with a fork at Dustin, an amused smile appearing on her face.

“Oh,” Dustin frowns at the former chief, “you don’t have taste either, damn.”

While everyone watches the interaction between Dustin and Hopper, amused by the teenage boy and his harmless insults as his conversation with the older man continues. Robin nearly misses the whispers between you and Steve, the smile on your face as you say something to him that she can’t read on your lips.

You sit next to each other, very closely so.

It’s the same seats you sat in when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement here, only this time, neither of you seems tense, you’re both relaxed, your features are soft, your smiles are real, your arms are touching and you aren’t avoiding each other the way you once did.

The pink scrunchie is in your hair, your lips are rosy red, from the cherry chapstick no doubt. Your eyes are glinting with happiness and it seems like a rare sight to Robin – she has seen you smile before, sure, but she had never seen you happy.

While she paid extremely close attention to her best friend, she didn’t really look closely at you, maybe she should have before.

She watches the way you push your plate away, leaving a few bites that you can’t seem to finish, you reach for your drink and lean back in your seat, placing your hand on your stomach.

Robin chews on her veggies, tilting her head as she tries to not make her staring too obvious but it’s difficult to look away from the both of you, especially when Steve does something that makes her eyes widen and her brows furrow in confusion.

If there is something that Steve always hated, then it was eating leftovers from someone else, he wouldn’t even share a drink or bite into something someone else had bitten into before and yet here he is eating the food you didn’t finish, eating the steak from your plate and you don’t even seem fazed by it, it’s almost as though it’s the most normal thing for you both, like this isn’t weird.

And she isn’t the only one who is staring in surprise, Eddie is looking at Steve with his big brown eyes.

Neither of you seem to notice and everyone else is too busy watching Dustin bicker with Hopper to notice her and Eddie’s wide eyes or the very couply behavior from you both.

One look under the table after accidentally dropping her napkin to the ground gives her the final confirmation when her eyes fall on Steve’s hand on your thigh and yours covering his own, your fingers playing with his.

Oh. Oh.

Maybe this should make her feel more surprised than it does, but really, the sight of Steve eating food from your plate nearly knocked her off her chair.

She is confused, so very confused and lost.

And more questions than ever before start running through her mind, nearly giving her a whiplash because it’s just too many at once and she doesn’t know how to deal with them, how to keep them to herself, they are starting to boil over and it prompts her to make a decision.

She’s had enough of his lies and his secrets.

She never kept anything from him, he never kept anything from her until this, until you. The sight of you suddenly fills her with anger, something she hadn’t felt before, especially not when it came to you.

You are the reason why her best friend is slipping through her fingers, why isn’t spending time with her the way he did before, why he isn’t talking to her.

And despite the growing rage you’re firing up inside of her, she can’t look away from you, watching how you whisper into his ear, watching the way you laugh with Eddie and Wayne, the way you help Joyce clean up and chat with Nancy, the way you hug El and Will goodbye and Max too before she hops on the back of Lucas’s bike and leaves with him and Dustin.

She almost wants to scoff when you get in the backseat of Steve’s car instead of the passenger seat that clearly belongs to you now, you leave your scrunchies here and your lipgloss apparently too as she looks down into the cupholder, rolling her eyes at the tiny bottle.

The sound of your laughter makes her eyes roll more intensely. Eddie jumps in beside you, neither of you are aware of the scowl on her face.

Steve notices though, but he doesn’t bring it up, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by asking any questions she might not want to answer in front of you and Eddie. She won’t even look at him, her eyes are glued on her rings as her fingers tap against her jean clad thighs, her jaw is clenched and he can practically feel the tension in her shoulders.

And it doesn’t go away, not even when he turns her favorite music on, not when he tries to crack a joke, nothing seems to lift her mood these days, and it worries him.

When he stops the car in your driveway, Eddie is the first to get out, clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder and mumbling a goodbye to him and Robin. You follow suit, smiling at them both before your sneakers hit the cobblestones and you get out as well, about to shut the door when Robin’s voice stops you.

“Hey, Blondie.”

The tone in her voice is a mocking one, she only uses Steve’s nickname to tease you with it, but this sounds like something else.

You poke your head back into the car, eyeing Steve’s side profile before you train your eyes on his best friend, who is now looking back at you with a look in her eyes that is sending chills down your spine.

“Hmm?”

“Are you spending the night at Steve’s tonight?”

Your heart stops beating and your breathing stutters in your throat, your eyes grow wide just like Steve’s do. The chills that her looks just caused, running down your whole body and filling you with shock.

She raises her eyebrows at you, giving you a mocking smile.

Eddie stands behind you, frozen just like you are.

Steve holds the steering wheel tightly, staring at his best friend with a pounding heart – he knew she would figure it out, that it would only be a matter of time after what she had found in his car.

A sigh falls from his lips and he begins to curse at himself inwardly, feeling guilt rushing through him for lying to her, for putting you into this position, he can see the fear in your eyes and he doesn’t quite know what it means, but it makes him want to protect you from the anger in Robin’s features.

“Robs–”

“If you are, I’m sorry but I need to talk to my best friend tonight… if we are still considered that,” she snaps at you, catching you off guard once again when she turns around after cursing you with a glare.

Steve furrows his brows at her, pursing his lips as he shakes his head a little.

“Sweets,�� Eddie mumbles behind you, clasping a gentle hand around your elbow, “come on.”

You blink, nodding to yourself as you gulp down the nervousness.

Steve looks back at you before you can leave and close the door, you see the way his eyes soften when they meet your own, the way his lips twitch and he tilts his head at you, mouthing a few simple words at you, ones that are enough to give you a sense of comfort after this.

‘It’s gonna be okay.’

It’s not just a few words, it’s a promise.

And for some reason, you find it easy to believe, despite the nervousness in your stomach.

Before you can say anything to him, before you can mouth something back to him, Eddie pulls you away from the car and shuts the door after Robin tells Steve to drive.

Your best friend puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, eying your worried expression as you watch the burgundy car leave your driveway, speeding down the road and getting lost in the distance.

A heavy sigh falls from your lips and you bring your hand up towards your face, biting your thumbnail in anxiousness. You turn around to face Eddie, seeing his face so clear despite the darkening night sky.

He nods at you, “it’s gonna be alright, Robin is just mad, I was mad too, sweetheart… remember that.”

“Yeah but–”

“No buts,” he shakes his head at you, “I don’t– I don’t know where you two are going with this but, I didn’t make you stop, she won’t either.”

Eddie doesn’t know why he is even encouraging this, knowing very well how badly this could end for you, but the need to comfort you feels so much stronger than thinking logically.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He is right, you know he is.

You were anxious about losing him before, thinking that Steve might want to stop seeing you after Eddie found out – but he didn’t want to stop, he might not want to stop now either, maybe things will just go back to normal after this night, you won’t let a moment like this crush the hope that has been spreading inside of you in the past weeks.

You are the only one for Steve, right now, he told you so.

And there has to be a reason for it.

The hope in you, isn’t for nothing… right?

You won’t let Robin take that away from you.

Eddie’s brown eyes soften even further, he wraps his arm around you and starts leading you to your house, “now come on, we’ll get that ice cream pint from your freezer and watch some movies until we crash out on your couch.”

You smile at him, feeling grateful to have him here with you.

“I gotta thank Buckley for ruining your date night with Harrington, I missed our slumber parties.”

You chuckle, despite the uneasiness in your stomach.

“I missed them too, Eds.”

The tension in the car is so much stronger, so much bigger than it was before because now he knows why Robin was acting so weird, why she always seemed so annoyed and hurt, and he understands it, he really does, but he had his reasons to keep this all a secret from her, yet it does nothing to mend the guilt that spreads through his body.

He lied to her and the upcoming conversation at his house already fills him with so much nervousness that it makes him grip the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

Is this the moment where he will lose his best friend? He wonders.

You didn’t lose Eddie, even though he seemed hurt about your secrets too, you talked it out and everything went back to normal – you didn’t lose Eddie and you didn’t stop seeing him.

But Robin’s reaction already seems so much worse than Eddie’s, she seems much angrier, much more hurt and the way she looked at you, even made him cower in his seat.

Was that jealousy on her face before?

Does she think that you took her spot in his life?

He parks the car and wastes no second to get out, taking a deep breath of the fresh air he is surrounded by now. He wants to stay here for a moment but Robin has other things in mind. She angrily makes her way up to his front door, marching up the stairs and waiting for him to follow and unlock the door – with a sigh, he complies.

His hands shake a little as he looks for the house key on his chain, he brushes past her and keeps his gaze down, licking his lips and clearing his throat as he prepares for whatever she is about to hit him with.

He wanted her to know, he really did, he had been dying to talk to someone about it but he couldn’t risk losing this, losing… you.

He steps into his home but doesn’t know which way to go, which way to turn to as the gnawing feeling in his chest begins to eat at him.

Steve throws the keys on the counter and turns on the light, flinching a little when she slams the door, he runs his fingers through his hair and turns around to face her.

He is met by her glare, an unimpressed expression resting on her features as she stands by the door, with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Do you want something to drink–”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She interrupts him, showing a sliver of hurt when those words fall from her lips.

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but she doesn’t let him.

“I thought I was your best friend,” Robin mumbles with a hurt tone in her voice.

The tension in his shoulders grows as the need to prove to her that she is still what she always was to him turns him desperate.

“You are! You are my best friend, Robin!”

Robin snorts and rolls her eyes at him, “mhm sure, doesn’t seem like it anymore, best friends don’t keep secrets from each other, Dingus!”

How can he tell her that this is exactly what keeps you both together?

That the secrets are the only thing making you his?

Robin’s blue eyes are filled with nothing but rage and as she stares at the man she loves like a brother, she can’t help but scoff.

“I can’t believe Blondie’s pussy is more important than our friendship.”

Anger flashes in Steve’s eyes, the mocking tone in her voice makes him frown.

“What the hell is your problem?” Steve asks in disbelief, not knowing this side of her, this snappy and rude behavior is something new to him.

Her blue eyes widen and she laughs at him, letting her arms fall to her sides, “my problem is that you were both complete assholes to each other, in front of everyone! And suddenly you start dropping friends – your best friend to be with a girl that you hated! Should I count down all the horrible things you have said about her?” She yells, throwing her arms up. “Or better yet let’s talk about all the horrible things she said to you.”

“Don’t.” Steve warns her, not wanting to be reminded of his past mistakes. He doesn’t even care about the words you once threw at him, none of them came even close to the hurtful things he said to your face and behind your back, to Tommy and Carol, to Nancy and the teens, to Robin – he can’t forgive himself for it.

Robin buries her hands in her hair, looking at him wide eyed as she laughs again, though not in amusement.

He understands her hurt, he understands her disapproval of the lies and the secrets but he doesn’t understand her anger towards you. He thought she liked you, he thought you both were getting along.

“How long has this been going on for?”

Steve closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he places his hands on his hips.

He doesn’t need to think about it, he knows exactly how many days and weeks have passed since you started seeing each other.

“A little over two months.”

Robin nods with widened eyes, a breathy chuckle falling from her lips before she starts shaking her head, “wow.”

“Eddie found out by himself, just like you did… we weren’t going to–”

“Tell anyone? Why not?” She asks, growing suspicious of the shakiness in his voice and the panicked look on his face.

“Because, Robin, it's just… sex!” He says in frustration, like those words are meant to convince her but she can tell that he is struggling and it raises different types of questions in her head. “At least that’s what it was supposed to be…”

He had meaningless relationships and flings before, he felt conflicted about girls and sex a few times but she never saw him like this, so panicked and anxious, so defensive about a girl he once couldn’t stand.

So she lets the questions tumble from her mouth, pushing him into giving her the answers that she wants and she watches his reactions closely, the way his brows pinch together as his patience starts to wear thin, as the desperation and the frustration clings to his features and his cheeks grow red.

She can tell that he is trying to keep something to himself but that he is beginning to struggle, it’s going to burst out of him soon enough.

“What’s your problem with her anyways?” Steve snaps at her, shaking his head in confusion. “I thought you liked her!”

Yeah, Robin did like you but something about you makes her blood boil now. Those Friday nights Steve never missed to spend with her, slowly stopped. Those small little out of nowhere car rides to the stores in town, or little escapades to the city never happened again. She might have become friends with everyone else in the group… but no one understood her like Steve had.

And now she knows the reason for her loss… had been you. A person who does not deserve Steve, not even as a friend, not after the past you two had.

“Why are you so defensive about her? I mean are we talking about the same person? She’s had called you so many fucking things in the past, and – being her friend? I might have accepted, now just fucking her!? With what purpose!?”

“There’s no purpose when it comes to that, Robin. It’s just sex and you are over fucking exaggerating!” Steve’s face was getting redder, darker, and his chest was working faster as it took in quicker breaths.

“Over exaggerating!? Well, I am sorry for voicing out the fact you and I have not been hanging out like we always have! All for a girl you hated and she hated you back! And let’s not mention that she is in the same fucking friend group Steve!” She yells at him, taking him aback slightly, “What’s going to happen when you break things off!?”

And he can only blink a few times, gulp, look at her and try to process her words. He slowly shakes his head, making Robin’s tilt to the side in confusion.

“I am not planning on breaking things off, Robs.” And his answer only angers Robin, because she knows he is a few words away from saying what she thought he was feeling. That he likes you. That he got hooked. Stupidly so.

“Oh, so I guess the sex with her is fucking phenomenal then! Didn’t think Blondie had it in her–”

And Steve explodes.

“I want her, Robin!” He yells as the truth begins to leave the sacred place inside of him and he can finally speak them into existence. “For fucks sake, after Nancy I never thought I would feel anything of the sort again, and she makes it feel right! All of it! I don’t want her to leave, to leave this, to leave me! I don’t know what you want me to fucking tell you! What else do you expect from me!? To tell you that I’m in love with her!?”

His voice echoes through the hallway and then, silence.

Nothing but utter silence follows.

Two pairs of shocked eyes staring into each other.

His heavy breathing stops and his heart does too for a moment.

Steve knew it, he knew he was falling for you, that he fell for you and despite it, he wasn’t aware just how bad it had gotten him already, that it was more than feelings, more than a crush, it’s love.

Realization begins to dawn on him and he breaks eye contact and looks away from Robin’s stunned face and focuses his eyes on nothing in particular as he looks at the ground.

“Holy shit, Steve…” Robin mumbles as her angry eyes soften and sadness and pity takes over, only for him.

She expected everything but this.

From the moment she figured it out, she knew that there was more than sex, but she didn’t think that there was this. That his feelings run so deep, that love of all emotions is involved.

“I-I’m… in love with her,” Steve murmurs not to her but to himself.

Robin can’t tell what he is feeling, knowing that he has only figured it out himself.

But she knows what she is feeling.

Out of all the nice girls he could have, it just had to be you.

A girl incapable of love.

A girl who will only be another on his list to break his heart, to make him suffer and leave him in tears.

She won’t let that happen, she won’t let him get his heart broken again, especially not by you.

But how will she do that?

There’s shock on his face but happiness in his eyes, his lips twitch and curl into a smile as he lets himself fall into emotions he thought he’d never feel again.

He is hopeless, as he looks back up at her and she sees the gone look in his eyes, she knows he is hopeless and done for.

“Fuck… I’m in love with her.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #stranger things angst

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helenofsparta2 · 6 months ago

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Percy, Nico, and Jason should have fallen into Tartarus together, while Annabeth should have remained with the rest of the Seven in House of Hades. Please hear me out.

For one, this way Tartarus would have been much more intimidating. At least in my opinion, it has pretty much lost this aspect, especially after Sun and Star. Tartarus is the prison of the titans, a place so scary and so dangerous, that only the best of the best can make it through. Homer described it as being as far beneath Hades as heaven is above earth. Overcoming it should be the ultimate challenge.

Yes, Annabeth is smart, incredibly so, but, I feel like, because Rick wanted her to be useful in Tartarus, he used a lot of cheap tricks in her POVs to get her and Percy over obstacles, which seem a bit too simple to really work against beings like Nyx. This took the heaviness away from them being down there and felt at times even anticlimactic. Don’t get me wrong, again, because I know this is a sensitive subject, Annabeth is smart, has a strong resolve and is great at hand to hand combat, but that’s it. And, in my opinion, that should not be enough to overcome Tartarus. If it would have taken a child of each of the big three working together to only barely make it out, it would have definitely reinforced that status, and also the gods’ belief that such children can become too powerful.

Secondly, Percy not letting go of Nico’s hand, would have done wonders for the development of their relationship and for each character’s individual arc.

Imagine, Nico dangling from the edge, instead of Annabeth. Nico, who had only days prior pretended like he didn’t know Percy, who is so full of self-hatred, he thinks the entirety of camp half-blood hates him, who is already weakened by being imprisoned in the jar, and who is scared out of his mind by the idea of being alone in Tartarus again.

Imagine Nico staring up at Percy, clasping his hand, while Percy looks up at Annabeth, the love of his life, whom he had been separated from for months. Imagine Nico being convinced, that Percy is going to let Nico fall down to stay by her side.

But Percy refuses to let go.

He refuses to let go, even after Nico tells him he should do it, and decides instead to fall together with him into the worst place on earth, just so Nico doesn’t have to endure it alone again. It would have further reinforced Percy’s self-inflicted role as Nico’s protector which he already had in the original five books and his fatal flaw of loyalty. To Nico, it would have given him a worse inner conflict about having a crush on him, which could have been revolved while they were travelling together. The confession scene would have been much more impactful and healthier, if it would have come from Nico himself, and if he and Percy would have had a more in depth talk about it.

And if Jason would have flown after them in a moment of desperation, it would have reinforced the sense of loyalty and protectiveness that he had already shown when he had saved Piper at the grand canyon. The scene with Polybotes could have also taken place in Tartarus instead, and him and Percy working together, and putting all of their differences aside would have been a much more interesting dynamic than the stupid, out of character, rivalry bit they’ve got going on in Mark of Athena.

And, to be honest, just having Nico, Percy and Jason go all out, would probably be one of the coolest scenes in the entire Riordan verse.

All the while, Annabeth could have really cemented her role as a leader. I love her character, but to say that she has more leadership capabilities than Percy is laughable to me after reading the original five Percy Jackson books. These books are, after all, about Percy’s hero’s journey from an inexperienced kid to a smart, powerful and wise hero and the leader of camp half blood. Annabeth, in comparison, shows relatively little of that. (Obviously this makes sense, considering that the books are from Percy’s POV and revolve around him, but the complete switch-up to saying that Annabeth is the natural choice as leader of the seven just felt a bit out of the blue to me in Mark of Athena)

Her leading the rest, in a moment of such a tragedy and remaining strong would have really reinforced the strong resolve that she had already shown in holding the sky in titan’s curse and in remaining steadfast despite all the horrible things that happened to her with her father’s rejection and luke’s betrayal. Annabeth’s relationship to Piper, Leo, Hazel and Frank, which is painfully underdeveloped in the books, could have also been given some much needed attention. Like, I can’t remember a single scene where she and Hazel, or she and Leo really talk to one another, which is a shame, because they could have had really interesting dynamics with one another.

It also would have also been a powerful statement about Percy’s and Annabeth’s relationship, if they, while separated, still believed in each other and trusted that the other person would get the job done.

Without powerhouses like Jason and Percy on board of the Argo II, Hazel and Frank could have really shone as individual fighters. Hazel is probably the second, or third most powerful demigod in the entire franchise, but barely gets any attention, and for a guy, who is apparently so powerful his life had to be tied to a stick, Frank seems, outside of one or two scenes, also pretty underwhelming.

Without Jason, Piper’s and Leo’s friendship could have also gotten some more attention, and generally the reunion scene at the end of House of Hades could have been much more impactful with these character dynamics. I mean, Hazel, and Nico being reunited, Jason, leo and Piper, and Percy and Annabeth, and Percy, Hazel and Frank.

One of the biggest problems, I have with Heroes of Olympus is the extreme focus on romantic relationships. Having some couples be separated from each other like this, would have also solved this and given the only couple still together, Frank and Hazel, more room to develop.

#rick riordan #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo #house of hades #pjo #the seven pjo

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lu-is-not-ok · 2 months ago

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two in one theory... i am listening very intently if you ever feel up to share it!!

Alright, so this is gonna be... as close to an Abridged explanation of the theory as I can make, because if I went off on everything about it I would end up writing a whole dissertation or five hour video essay script on this shit.

There are gonna be three main sections to this post - Hong Lu's Daiyuisms, Hong Lu's Themes of Identity and how that connects to the concept of Two in One, and the Daiyu-Baoyu theory itself.

Strap in folks.

Hong Lu's Daiyuisms

If you know anything about my theories in the earlier days of Limbus, you might know that I'm one of the very few people who was convinced Hong Lu is actually Daiyu, due to some evidence I found personally compelling. This has not changed, as we've only gotten just as much extra evidence to this as we have to him being Baoyu. So let me just speedrun through some of these points.

The Fucking Jade Eye

Ok hear me out. This is maybe the least important piece of evidence but I can never stop thinking about it. Hong Lu's jade eye? Not actually fully blue! If you look closely on most of his sprites, you can see that he actually has sectoral heterochromia, meaning his jade eye is both blue and black.

Daiyu's name, quite literally, translates to blue-black jade.

Now, you could claim that this is merely meant to be an easter egg reference to her, but... is that really Project Moon's style? After all, when people speculated on Don Quixote being Sancho or a Bloodfiend partially based on her appearance all the way back since near launch, they turned out to be right.

Hong Lu's Father

As of now, there is only one instance of Hong Lu referencing his Father in Limbus, and it's a voiceline from his Base Identity:

Now, if you know anything about DOTRC, this should already be raising some flags, because if Hong Lu was just Baoyu, he would not fucking talk like that about his Father.

In the book, Baoyu is consistently shown to be afraid of his Father, for a good reason mind you, as he's his main abuser. Baoyu would not be looking forward to introducing his friends to that man.

Even if Hong Lu was trying to downplay the abuse he's recieved, this would still not fit his pattern of behavior. When topics that genuinely bother Hong Lu come up, such as what could make him distort or how rich people would enjoy gifts made of humans, he immediately pivots and tries to avoid the topic at all cost. He would not bring up his main abuser in such a lighthearted manner, he would avoid bringing him up at all cost.

However, there is a character in DOTRC which does in fact have a more positive relationship to her Father, and would likely be the one with an opinion such as that - Daiyu. Daiyu loves her Father, and when he dies she completely disappears from the story for a bit to attend his funeral. If there was anyone who would be excited to introduce their friends to their Father, it'd be Daiyu.

Lasso Hong Lu's Corrosion

I made a whole seperate post about this, but I might as well mention it here as well for the sake of completion. The design choices made for Hong Lu which are missing for Faust are very, very Daiyu-coded.

For one, not only does Hong Lu completely turn into a flower, unlike Faust, his horse also gains a flower in its mouth. For those whose knowledge of DOTRC is zero to none, Daiyu is a reincarnation of a Flower given sentience due to being watered by the Jade. I don't think I have to be the one to connect the dots between those two pieces of info for you.

The second is how the halters become a noose for Hong Lu. This, too, is a very Daiyu thing - Rose Hunter as an Abnormality represents the inability to escape one's fate, and Daiyu's fate is to die - the Jia Family arranging a marriage between Baoyu and Baochai leads to Daiyu falling deathly ill, which in itself could be considered a part of her repaying her Debt of Tears - the debt she swore to repay to the Jade/Baoyu when she was still a Flower.

The hilarity of the fact that this E.G.O came out in the same update as Hong Lu being called Baoyu in-story is not lost on me.

Rose Sign Abnormality Log

The third Log for Rose Sign ends in a very peculiar way.

There's multiple ways one can tie Hong Lu's odd reluctance to talk about flowers and the petals. One is the obvious "he's being reminded of Daiyu because she was a Flower" connection, but there's another one.

One of the most commonly potrayed images of Daiyu relates to a scene in DOTRC where she buries fallen flower petals, weeping for and lamenting the mortality of the flowers and herself. Hong Lu's reaction here to his fellow Sinners being reduced to nothing but petals upon Rose Sign's death feels like a notable parallel to Daiyu's flower burial scene.

Like literally everything about Kurokumo Hong Lu

The title for this is a bit of an exaggeration, but at the same time. I'm serious. Kurokumo Hong Lu is perhaps the most Daiyu Identity out of all the Hong Lu Identities we have, and the way he is designed to stand out among them further makes me go insane.

Kurokumo Hong Lu's most defining trait is his attitude - he often complains about his position and how authority treats him, though he doesn't really act out against them in any major way outside of making snarky or sarcastic remarks.

This is, frankly, an extremely Daiyu thing to do. Daiyu is one of the few characters who audibly complains about her treatment in the household. For example she complains about not being given as many opportunities to show off her poetry skills as her male peers are, and she recognises how, when all the girls in the family are given flowers, she's the last one to recieve them and thus is stripped of the ability to pick, being only given the leftovers.

Then there's the whole. Everything about Kurokumo Hong Lu's visual design. Because once you realize just how Daiyu-like the Identity is, you realize just how weird he is compared to other Hong Lu Identities. I mean just look how he compares to his other Identities.

He's the only Hong Lu Identity with a blue tint to his hair in the combat sprite rather than the usual purple.

He's the only Hong Lu Identity whose hairtie is a ribbon rather than a jade ring (Liu Hong Lu technically has the ribbon in his post-uptie art, but he doesn't have it in his combat sprite so I'm not counting him).

He's the only Hong Lu Identity to not be smiling in his combat sprites.

And he's the only Hong Lu Identity (and one of only four Identities in the game) whose Idle sprite has its body facing away from the opponent rather than facing towards them.

All of those combine to make him stand out like a sore thumb in a Hong Lu Identity lineup in a way that makes it feel intentional, especially since he's also the only Hong Lu Identity with that kind of notable attitude towards authority. Other Hong Lu Identities are either obedient, don't express any opinion, or just straight up are the authority.

The Baoyu reveal is framed in a very weird way

This is, admittedly, less of a Daiyuism and more of a not-Baoyuism, but I thought it'd be important to mention nonetheless.

There are a lot of things about Canto 7's reveal of Hong Lu's name being Baoyu that are very strange, especially compared to how the Canto frames Don Quixote's own reveal of actually being Sancho.

For one, the timing itself - why is such an important piece of info being revealed so early? Again, compare to Donqui - she was revealed to be a Bloodfiend in the Intervallo right before Canto 7, and the Sancho reveal only came in the second half of the Canto.

For two, the framing - Donqui's reveals are treated as what they are, Major Reveals. The Baoyu reveal on the other hand happens in a single off-handed line, with nobody reacting to it in any way. Neither Hong Lu nor the other Sinners seem to hear it after all.

And mind you, it's not like Limbus is opposed to giving us important information in off-handed lines - far from it in fact. Project Moon loves shoving little bits of foreshadowing and reveals you don't realize are reveals until way later in these kinds of off-handed lines. But the way those lines are treated is still very different to how the Baoyu reveal is treated.

Usually, when there's foreshadowing in off-handed lines, it's usually either vague enough to be something a character could say regardless of context (see Yi Sang getting hung up on the Sedatives bit in Canto 2 or Ishmael's comment about Syndicates pretending to be Families foreshadowing her own history with the Middle via Queequeg) or something that is in the middle of a scene that distracts from what is actually being said (like Hong Lu's distortion foreshadowing being in the middle of an important infodump or most of everything in Canto 2 being surrounded by a comedic tone).

None of this is present for the Baoyu reveal. There's nothing to distract you from this information, as the scene is already focused on discussing Hong Lu, meaning you're already likely to be paying attention to what is being said about him. There's also no vagueness about it, there's no way you can brush it off since not only are Wei and Xichun newly introduced characters, but it's a whole ass clearcut namedrop.

The only way I can justify that reveal being there in the form it takes is that it in itself is the distraction. Think about it. Didn't I point it out earlier that this reveal came in the same update as the E.G.O with an extremely Daiyu-coded corrosion design? Wouldn't it make sense for that reveal to be there to lower your guard, make you think you resolved that mystery, only to later on reveal it wasn't the whole story after all?

Hong Lu's Themes of Identity

So this section is a bit more vague than the Daiyuism section, because Hong Lu is the type of guy to just Say Shit all the time. It's basically just. Anything that I find relevant to the idea of Hong Lu's Identity being more complex than him just being a random guy using a pseudonym, with some (but maybe not all) of them directly tying to the idea of Two in One.

"Which one is the real you?"

There are currently two seperate scenes where Hong Lu muses on the idea of someone's identity being in some way vague or obscured.

Is Dante the person or the clock? Is the dreamer the one in the dream or the one who wakes from it? Which you is the real you? Does it even matter if that you will flutter away in the end?

This idea of there being one true self. That even if there are two, there is only one of them that is actually you. Curious, right?

Face-changing dance

During the Canto 2 scene where everyone gives their reasons for whether or not they'd be a good pick for being the one to dance, Hong Lu says this.

Bian lian is a kind of dance literally translated as "face-changing". It involves rapid changes between various masks and make-up to represent different emotions or characters.

Now, it's no secret that Hong Lu is a great actor, as we see in Canto 4, and Canto 7 shows how the comparison to theatre and actors can be used to symbolize one's performance of identity, as it does for Sancho and her Don Quixote persona.

Mind you, this reveal comes in the same scene as Sinclair's dance invoking the image of a bonfire burning all through the night according to the Mariachis, a clear foreshadowing to Canto 3 and the Literal burning down of Sinclair's home.

Hong Lu knowing bian lian could be further foreshadowing to his own skills in deception, and how he too is a sort of actor, not unlike Don Quixote. On the other hand however, it could also be a more literal foreshadowing, that he (Baoyu) Quite Literally changed his face. We won't know until Canto 8, but it is an option you know.

The HamHamPangPang dish(es)

For those who don't know, here is a list of the Sinner-themed dishes that were available at HamHamPangPang.

Now, chances are, not all of them have deep meanings. I don't think there's much of a deep meaning to Heathcliff and Ishmael's dishes, I think PJM just legit don't know much about British/American cuisine so they just picked something recogniseable.

However, not all of them are meaningless picks either. Ryoshu, likely a mother, has a meal literally called "parent-and-child donburi". Don Quixote, a Bloodfiend, has a garlic-based dish. These were clearly done on purpose.

So, what does it say that Hong Lu's dish is actually two different dishes? That he's the only one whose dish is two different dishes? And it's not like the two are in some way inherently connected, since they're of completely different cuisines. Japchae is a Korean dish, not Chinese like the Mandarin rolls.

And just in case you weren't convinced that Hong Lu's choice of dishes is purposeful - another name for Mandarin rolls is flower buns, and one of the special occasions japchae is commonly served for is weddings. If you had read through the Daiyuisms section and somehow have no idea what the significance of that is, I don't know what to tell you.

The Daiyu-Baoyu Theory (finally)

So. I gave some evidence for why I think Hong Lu could still be Daiyu despite being revealed as Baoyu. I gave some evidence for why I think Hong Lu could be a Two in One deal, or that at the very least there's something more complex going on with his identity. But let's discuss the theory itself, how it would recontextualize certain things, and why I think it's an extremely fitting an thematically resonant direction for Hong Lu's Canto to go in.

The Theory

Here's what I speculate is going on.

Daiyu, just like in DOTRC, is someone who was taken in into the Jia Household rather than born in it, and who strongly connected with Baoyu upon meeting him. The two would end up forming a bond strong enough that they would be willing to die for one another (or, if they're in particularly argumentative moods, to kill themselves just to force the other to have to live a long life grieving over them - this is an actual argument they have in DOTRC and I pray to god this is adapted into Limbus because it's too fucking funny).

At some point, Baoyu either dies or is brought to near death, likely through the same circumstances as in DOTRC - being beaten by his Father. To save him, his memories and consciousness would be transferred to his eye, a process not dissimilar to the one Xichun brings up in Canto 7, and implanted into Daiyu's body, causing them to become a vessel for Baoyu. This would be how Hong Lu as he is now is created.

All of the above is the main basis for this theory. Everything else that I might speculate about, such as the exact nature of the two's relationship, Daiyu's more exact background and personality, how their pre-reincarnation lives could be adapted - all of those are things that are purely speculative and ones that I don't really expect to be actually fulfilled. The only bits that I am sure are likely to be true is what I laid out above.

So... what does it all mean for the future? I'm glad you asked!

The Recontextualization

Here's a collection of just a couple of things that Hong Lu has said or is depicted as that would be heavily recontextualized if this theory ends up being true.

Hong Lu surviving despite claiming he didn't fight back when his siblings first tried to kill him: With the context that he used to be two seperate people, the answer to how he survived is made very simple. Baoyu is the one who wasn't fighting back. Daiyu, however, could have still protected him in turn.

The red ribbon on Hong Lu's weapon: There is only one other Sinner who has a similar decoration on their weapon - Ryoshu, who also has a red ribbon on her sword, which could be easily connected to Yuzuki and her death. With the context of Hong Lu being Baoyu occupying Daiyu's body and thus effectively rendering their self non-existent, the red ribbon could be a parallel symbol - a symbol of Daiyu and their 'death'.

How Hong Lu treats his weapon in his base E.G.O: The way Hong Lu holds his weapon in the illustration is more like he's cradling another person. This could be a representation of how he feels about Daiyu's situation. Likewise, in the attack animation, he's not really attacking with the weapon itself, is he? He's simply using it to direct a ribbon (which in itself is missing in the illustration), the part that is actually the attack. If the weapon in the base E.G.O represents Daiyu, this could be a parallel to how Baoyu feels like he's merely directing Daiyu's body to attack, rather than being the one actually attacking.

The duality of Hong Lu IDs: There is a notable pattern among Hong Lu IDs, and that is the focus on his attitude to violence. When he's in a situation where he's obedient towards his Family, he's either uninterested in violence, bored of it, or otherwise given no other choice but to use it as a reprieve from boredom. However, when he's in a situation where he's disconnected from his Family or otherwise questioning the status quo, he's shown to not only be much more aggressive and violent, but to outright enjoy it. With the context of Hong Lu being composed of two people, this duality could represent each of his components - the obedient and violence-averse being more Baoyu-like, while the questioning and violence-favoring being more Daiyu-like.

So, there's a bunch of stuff that would be given new meaning under the premise of this theory being true. But now, what about the future? What would this theory mean for the themes and ending of Canto 8?

The Resolution

I believe this is how the Daiyu-Baoyu theory will affect Canto 8.

At some point, whether before or during the Canto, it will be revealed that Hong Lu is both Daiyu and Baoyu. There will be an attempt to seperate the two, perhaps to implant Baoyu into a more fitting, more Jia Family-approved Vessel. Perhaps because the 'arranged marriage' from DOTRC could be adapted into something more... let's say Fear and Hunger kind of marriage rather than traditional marriage.

This will leave Hong Lu to be returned to their state as Daiyu, who will be revealed to be a very different person to what the Sinners knew Hong Lu as. There is a non-zero chance that Daiyu will be unable to hear Dante or be revived by them due to the one who signed the contract being Baoyu, and so they could end up acting as an uncontrollable ally unit not unlike Xichun in Canto 7.

The climax would then be Daiyu and Baoyu reuniting and being unwilling to part with each other again, even for the sake of returning to being the fake persona that is Hong Lu, leading to a potential duo boss fight/distortion boss fight/duo distortion boss fight.

The ending would be the two of them deciding to embrace their new identity as Hong Lu and truly becoming one, discarding their pasts and the selves that had been forced on them by the Jia Family. This ending would have a twofold meaning regarding how it connects to the DOTRC adaptation.

One - it would be a direct parallel to the ending of DOTRC where Baoyu leaves to become a monk. By becoming Hong Lu and discaring his previous identities, he'd be leaving behind the earthly attachments inherent to being Baoyu and Daiyu and become spiritually whole.

Two - it would be a reflection of the major theme of DOTRC, that being "Truth becomes fiction when the fiction's true. Real becomes not-real when the unreal's real." Hong Lu, as a person, is a 'fake' persona used by the 'real' Baoyu and Daiyu. However, by discarding those two identities and deciding to just be Hong Lu, the fiction of his existence becomes the truth, while his former real selves become not real.

Conclusion?

I could honestly just keep going with this post, but I think I'm going to stop myself here before I'm forced to find out what tumblr's character limit on posts is. Believe me, I was trying to be brief, and still this post is. This fucking long.

I hope this explains why this theory has been the subject of my brainrot for the past however long, and why I feel like it's surprisingly plausible despite being as deranged as it is.

Godspeed and godbless, I have classes tomorrow and I'm spending my time on this.

#ask #anon #lu speaketh #limbus company #hong lu #hong lu lcb #jia baoyu lcb #lin daiyu lcb #lcb analysis #lcb speculation #lcb theory #canto 7 spoilers

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bluesidez · 8 months ago

Text

GymRat!Miguel Part 9.1 | full chapter without breaks on AO3

content warning: lots of music links, ROADTRIP!!, some hurt/comfort at the beginning, a damn near comedy if I must say so myself, Spanish parts (if wrong, please correct me), lots of fluff, Buc-ee's shenanigans (I love that store), Miguel drives a Range Rover (hot, I know. Tyler got that MUNYUN), some jealous Miguel (MY FAVORITE), a hint of jealous reader 🫨 (she has a storm coming lol), simp Miguel if I'm being honest, 18+ so MNDI, male masturbation, wet wet fantasies, both reader and Miguel are h word for each other

word count: 7.1k, damn near proofread (this is only one part of the behemoth)

I did some research on MLE, yachts, superyachts, dolphins, and water activities for this chapter. 🤠 Hopefully, it shows! The yacht size I imagined is somewhere in between a regular yacht and a superyacht/megayacht. I built a Range Rover just for GR!Miguel you guys. (thanks to my irl besties and @slushycoookie once again 🥰)

Prev | Next (Part 9.2) ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who comes back home after nearly a week of bliss with you. He floated all the way home from dropping you off with Tyler’s people.

He made them wait much longer than they needed to when he decided to makeout with you next to the black Suburban.

Only a few more weeks before he could see you again.

GymRat!Miguel who is met with his mom sitting on the couch with just the tv glowing on her.

His steps were too heavy to sneak past her, so he just sighed and settled down on one of the plush chairs.

“I see you’re home,” she says. Her eyes don’t move from the Golden Girls episode playing softly.

“Sí, mamá.”

“How come you didn’t tell me where you went?”

“Gabriel told you where I was. I’m sure you asked him.” Miguel was tired already.

“He did, pero eso no fue lo que te pregunté.” (but that’s not what I asked you)

“Ma-”

“Mijo.”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“And you’ve sat so far away. Like I’m going to hurt you. Miguel, I asked you to come home. You didn’t respond. You didn’t call. You didn’t even speak to me when you came back a few days ago.”

Miguel stared at her face, willing himself not to get emotional over this.

“I acknowledge that I should have let you know where I was. I didn’t talk to you because I didn’t want to say something I would regret.”

Conchata finally turned to look at Miguel. Her first-born. The life given to her after so much turmoil.

She could still see the little boy that would cry at the drop of a hat. She could still see the little boy that would dry up his tears if Gabriel started to cry with him, just to comfort him. The little boy with so much room in his heart.

She can see him now, face ridden with sadness. A face that she knew too well.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, mijo.”

“Well, you did. Again. I’m used to it. This isn’t a new feeling. What is new, is you acting like this towards someone else close to me.”

“I-”

“Let me finish, ma, please. You’ve never been a parent that cares about how I’ve felt in regards to anything. You have made decisions for me without a second thought without ever considering how I might feel. You’ve also never been the type of person who hurts someone else for no reason. I’m sorry I’m not with someone you picked, but I’m not sorry for loving her. She is everything to me. If I were to fall, there’s no doubt in my mind that she would be there to build me back up. She’d probably even break my fall if I couldn’t stop her.”

Miguel stopped to look up, willing himself not to cry.

“What you said to her brought something out that she hasn’t felt in a while. You broke her in a way that I promised myself I never would. I wanted to present her to my family in a positive light, to show her off. I didn’t expect you to be ecstatic about her, but I did hope that you could at least open your heart up once you met her.”

He looked off, tears escaping from his eyes. You’re in a better position now, but he won’t know if that donner will creep back up on you, making you hate yourself for something that’s not your fault. He remembered the pain in your voice, how kept it in until you were with him and away from the manor. He hated it.

“But instead, she was met with two people who paid her no respect. Two people that brought her turmoil. I expected Kron to be horrible, look at how he talked to you, but not you. You were supposed to be better. You didn’t see how much you hurt her, I did. It’s like we prepped for nothing but a shitshow and I should have followed my gut and kept her to myself a little longer.”

Miguel sniffed, wiping at his nose in hopes that it would stop the urge to cry.

Conchata let the silence rest. Nothing but the TV and her son’s sniffles filled the room.

“I’m sorry, Miguel.”

Miguel turned back. Shocked that she didn’t put up much of a fight.

“I just,” she paused. “There’s no excuse for how I treated her. She didn’t deserve it and if I could go back and change my behavior, I would. I think that I was just overwhelmed. Upset because my baby is growing up. He’s moving on and I can’t hold him in my hands anymore. I don’t tuck him in anymore. I don’t have to check under his bed for monsters. He doesn’t need me to do anything. So this shift is hurting me, mijo, and I took it out on the wrong people. For that, I’m so sorry.”

Conchata was a hard-cased woman. She stuck with her opinions, even if they were blatantly wrong. She was proud and vocal. She never let people see her crack or fall under pressure. So, seeing her like this, begging for Miguel to understand her, was a rare moment for Miguel.

“Ma, me growing up doesn’t stop me from being your son. I’m still here. I’ll still rely on you, but I want you to have a break too. You have to let me grow. I won’t live here forever, but that doesn’t mean I won’t come back to you. I’m glad you were able to express this to me, I just wish you could have said so sooner.”

“Lo siento, mijo.”

Miguel got up to get closer to her. He wrapped her up in his arms, too easy to forgive her. “It’s ok.”

He leans back and kisses her forehead, heart mending by the smallest of stitches. “You still have to apologize to my girlfriend, though.”

“I will when I see her again.”

“And we need to go to therapy.”

“George has already told me.”

“And I want you to make me some ceviche. And tamales.”

“Bueno.”

“And tres leches.”

She sighed, but squeezed him tighter. “Don’t curse in front of me again, and I’ll consider it.”

“Gracias, mamá.”

“De nada, mijo.”

GymRat!Miguel who goes to sleep with his body feeling a lot lighter. The weight of his relationship with his mom lifted a little off his shoulders.

GymRat!Miguel who has two grand master plans that he’s been setting out for months: eating you out and making your first time together special.

He’s been overthinking every detail like a maniac. The peaches from the fruit bowl have been disappearing to his room for research purposes only- and a snack of course.

He once ended up on the girl side of Tik Tok where they complain about everything guys get wrong when pleasuring them. He had been thoroughly reading the comments and taking notes here and there. He didn’t really need the tip about making noise though, he already does that just thinking about you. So many times has he had to stuff his mouth when jerking off.

He also had a few tabs open in incognito mode. That research is only done in the deep of the night.

Right now, he’s sitting at his desk reading some article about listening to your partner’s body and his mind can’t help but to wander off. Will you grip your thighs around him? He hopes so. He could die that way. Will you be vocal? Will you tell him if it’s too much? Will you guide his head and pull his hair?

That last question has him gripping his sweats in anticipation. No doubt when you scratched at his back in the hotel room, he was reeling from the sensation. It was like a reward for him whenever you feel so good, you’re too unaware of what you’re doing to him physically. Too lost in bliss to register the marks and pain you’re leaving on him. You just want him to give you more.

Miguel drops his pen and pushes the heel of his palm on his growing bulge.

“Fuck.” Every time about an hour or so into researching, his head is full of you. He imagines what it’ll be like to finally taste you, to be inside you.

He remembered how wet you got with just a little rubbing. Your body was so responsive to his movements and he couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if you guys upped the foreplay.

Miguel leaned back in his chair, arm over his head. He dropped his hand in his sweats hand gripping at the base of his erection, exhaling deep as he gave it a few pumps.

Your hands on his chest. Your arms around his neck. Your nails scraping his back. Your thighs wrapping around his waist. Your breath on his lips.

You opening up for him. You dripping down his fingers, down his legs, down his face. You screaming out his name loud enough for the entire neighborhood to file a complaint. You in whatever position he puts you in. He could hold you up. Maybe have your legs in the air or stretched out on the bed. He could have you grabbing for the sheets, the headboard, him. His head in your chest, in your pussy, in your ass.

Pre-cum spilled onto his stomach, rolling down his shaft. Would you let him go that far?

He doesn’t know what’s worse, the cold showers and teeth-marked arms at the beginning of the relationship or his constant daydreams of your body connecting with his that kept occurring regularly.

Maybe you felt the same way too. That was a new thought.

Do you wonder about your first time together? Were you just as excited as him? Do you get wet at the thought of him inside of you? Do you have to stop everything and find pleasure like he does? Were your fingers enough or did you need more?

Miguel continued to move his hand up and down, squeezing occasionally to mimic what you might feel like.

He’s groaning into his elbow, hips lifting from his desk chair.

He could almost hear your voice in his ear. Begging, praising, crying out, stuttering.

GymRat!Miguel who cums as Gabriel slams through the door. In a matter of 15 seconds, Miguel covers his drenched chest, shoves his sensitive dick back down, and grabs napkins to try to wipe away at his hand.

Nevermind his shirt is now ruined.

“What the fuck are you looking at and why is this picture showing a seductive pomegranate?”

“Why the fuck are you opening my door without knocking?”

“I did knock! I did our special knock plus a freestyle! I thought you were dead, Miguelito.”

Miguel’s heart felt a little tug despite its rapid tempo, “’M not dead, Gabri. Just busy. I didn’t hear you.”

Gabriel snickered when he got closer to look at his laptop. “I can see why. These tabs are a dead giveaway.”

Gabriel reached over to stare at Miguel’s notebook.

“These are some good tips! You shouldn’t expect her to taste like sweets, though.”

Nothing in his notes indicated that, but Miguel wanted to be offended for you anyway.

Miguel gave Gabriel a hard side eye, mouth set deeply down.

“I really wish you would get out of my room.”

“Oo, you should buy a rose. Dana loves that thing.”

“I don’t want to hear about whatever freaky shit you and Dana get up to, Gabriel.”

“You’ve caught me in more embarrassing situations, I’m just trying to lighten the mood! I also suggest those candy panties-”

“I’m not putting candy on- Gabriel. Can you please stop talking to me?”

“Miguel, this stuff is important!”

“¿Por qué eres así?” Miguel mumbled. “Ok, yeah. I get it. But you can chat to me about this after I’ve switched shirts.” (Why are you like this?)

“Fine, I’ll come back. Ten minutes. Then we must have a healthy chat about how to have fun safely.”

Gabriel skipped back to the door singing Candy loud enough to be heard as he went back to his own room.

“Strawberry! Raspberry! All those good things! Violets and gumdrops that’s what you’re saying to me, me, me.”

A black hole would be nice to save himself from this situation.

GymRat!Miguel who jumps out of his bed the day of the “Yacht Weekend.” Gabriel is dead set on calling it the “Yachty Pawty” and Miguel thinks that’s unbelievably stupid.

GymRat!Miguel who has to go and pull Gabriel out of his bed to get him to get ready, his body stretching like a ferret. He’s never been a morning person. It’s like his brain didn’t start computing until noon.

GymRat!Miguel who jogs around the neighborhood to kill time. The weather is a lot cooler in the morning plus it gives Gabriel time to come to reality. He waves to the son of one of his neighbors who gawks at him as he passes by.

Were his shorts giving away too much again? He didn’t feel a draft.

He looked down at his crotch. All good.

GymRat!Miguel who calls you while he stops to take a water break.

“Amor!” His voice is bright and his smile is radiant, watching as you squint at the screen.

Your cheek is squished against the pillow and you’re wrapped up in your covers.

“Hey, Miggy. It’s so bright there.”

Your voice was scratchy, a sign of how deep in sleep you were. You were so fucking cute.

“Are you running?”

He placed his phone on a nearby bench so he could stretch. “Yeah, I’m taking a break.”

He went into a deep lunge, stretching his body low to the ground.

You went quiet for so long, Miguel thought the call dropped.

“Baby? Did you go back to sleep?” Miguel asked.

“No, I’m still here. Those pants are,” you started to shuffle your phone. “Really short.”

“Really?” Miguel stood up and looked down at his pants. They did cut off high up his thighs, but they were good for running. Plus, he got hot easily, so he needed as much wind on his skin as possible. “They’re comfy.”

“Mm hm. Can you turn around for me?”

Miguel turned, confused but willing.

“Got it. Thank you, my muscle bear!”

“What did you just do?”

“Took pictures of your ass. It looks great. I’m gonna hold it real good later.”

Miguel laughed and grabbed his phone.

“Can I hold yours, too?” He wanted to do way more than hold it.

You smile sleepily at the camera. “I’ll think about it.”

GymRat!Miguel who lets you stay on the phone while he runs back to the house.

“You’re just going to hear the wind and me breathing for a few minutes.”

“And I’m fine with that! It’s like boyfriend ASMR. Peaceful.”

GymRat!Miguel who ruffles Gabriel’s hair when he gets back home. He’s staring at the wall and shoveling cereal in his mouth at the slowest pace known to man.

“Buenos días, hermanito!” (Good morning, little brother)

“Mm.”

GymRat!Miguel who takes a cold shower to cool off for once and not because he’s having explicit thoughts of you.

GymRat!Miguel who chugs down a protein smoothie while he waits for Gabriel to come downstairs.

GymRat!Miguel who answers the door to Dana. She’s got some shades on and a purse with the same texture as a croc.

She peers over her shades. “You’re looking put together!”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’re trying to impress your girl! What do you have planned? A dinner on the horizon? A spa date? Oh! No! Another shopping spree?l

Yes. No, but he should arrange that. And absolutely not. He’s not Tyler.

“No,” Miguel squints. “But how can you tell?”

“You’re easy to read, big guy. Even when you think about her your eyes turn into hearts. When have you ever thought to wear a button down for a roadtrip to the beach?”

“Touche.”

“I’ll figure out what you’re up to. I have my ways.”

She twirls and runs up to Gabriel’s room, leaving a waft of strong perfume after her.

With that, Miguel knew it would be at least another 45 minutes before he could get on the road.

GymRat!Miguel who does his special knock on Gabriel’s door.

“I’m opening it, so you fiends better have your clothes on.”

He swung the door open to the disheveled couple. Dana with her hair astray and Gabriel breathing eerily hard.

“Seriously, guys? I need to go by the airport.”

“I was just waking him up!” Dana says with a voice that was much hoarser than it was an hour ago.

“Well,” Miguel put a hand on his hip in a way that anyone could tell he was Conchata O’Hara’s son. “Are you awake, Gabri?”

Gabriel’s face was as red as a tomato as he shook his head no.

Miguel pitched his voice higher to mimic his brother. “Ten minutes. And then we can have a conversation on time management and respect. Except it won’t be “safely” because I’m going to hurt you.”

GymRat!Miguel who finally backs out of the driveway in exactly ten minutes. Gabriel is rubbing his arm in the passenger seat with a pout on his face. Dana is grinning from ear to ear.

GymRat!Miguel who hands Gabriel the aux. He might be a silly boy, but his music taste is immaculate.

GymRat!Miguel who almost has to hurt Gabriel again when he doesn’t want to get out of the passenger seat.

“Why do I have to move?”

“Because I said so.”

“That’s not grounds for anything!”

Dana pokes her head over the console. “Gabie. Read the room. He wants to grip on to his girl while he drives with one hand. Show off.”

GymRat!Miguel who kisses you and grabs your bags at the same time when he sees you. The cars around are loud, honking sporadically. People are walking and running to catch cabs or get to their loved ones. Workers are trying to direct the traffic.

It all quiets down when he meets your eyes.

“Hola, mi amor.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close. “Hello to you too, my love.”

You smile up until he presses his lips against yours. More and more pecks follow after that.

He holds his nose to yours, completely enraptured by your presence.

“Oh my god, let’s go!” Gabriel shouts from the car, pressing his palm against the steering wheel.

“You’re not the one driving, pinche pendejo!”

You giggle and stand on your tippy toes to try and see over Miguel’s shoulder. You’re still too short so you lean sideways. Miguel melts.

“Just a few more and we’ll be done Gabriel!”

“Fine. For you, I’ll let it slide.”

You stand back up straight and kiss Miguel a little more.

GymRat!Miguel who does reach over and grip your thigh. If Gabriella and Troy weren’t in the back belting, he’d hike his hand up further.

“Right now I can hardly breathe!” Gabriel pivots his head towards Dana dramatically, water bottle a faux mic.

“Oh! You can do it, just know that I believe.” Dana is touching his chest dramatically.

“Are they always like this?” You ask, laughing a little at their antics.

Miguel groans in annoyance. “Yes.”

GymRat!Miguel who nearly sprints out the car when he parks by a pump. He’s been riding for a bit and he needs to stretch his legs.

“Miggy, you want something from the store?”

You’re standing next to the car, the wind blowing your hair back. Your jacket blows away a little, showing off the tight little outfit you’re sporting. You’re beautiful.

He wants to break you down in the front seat of his car.

He swallows the thought. “I’ll come in there soon, don’t worry.”

You walk in the giant gas station and head immediately to the Icee machines. For the best possible experience, you should wait until it’s time to go before buying it.

As you’re walking along the wall wondering what flavor you should get, you feel a tug at your arm.

You turn to see Dana with some bottles in her hand.

“I don’t know what he’s planning, but trust me when I say, you should take these.”

You frown as you take the cranberry juice. “Um.”

“I’ve been around those two long enough to know when one of them is up to something. I mean Gabriel hasn’t said anything off, but look at how he’s bopping around the store.”

You turn and look.

He is indeed bouncing more than usual. He’s so tall that if he puts even more pep in his step, he might just break a hole in the ceiling.

“Ok,” you turn back to Dana while fighting a laugh. “So they are planning something. What does that have to do with me and cranberry juice?”

“Gabie tries his best to use bro code, but I quite literally suck the information out of him sometimes. He caught Miguel looking at lots of articles about pleasuring his partner. With his mouth. That’s all I know for now.”

Your heart picks up. He was still going on about that?

“That might just be a coincidence.”

“He’s wearing damn near beach attire with his hair styled. He held onto your thigh for an hour, even when the turns got tough. He stared at you walking into the store even until he couldn’t see you anymore.”

You bit your lip. “Those last two things are standard Miguel behavior.”

Dana huffs and spins you around.

Across the store, you could see Miguel and Gabriel huddled over something. Miguel with his eyes focused and Gabriel animatedly explaining something. Every once in a while, Miguel would nod and roll his eyes up as if he was mentally checking on something.

You sigh and turn back around.

“Do they sell pineapples too?”

GymRat!Miguel who looms over you while you and Dana are looking at some cakes. You look up at him, pressing your head against his chest.

Miguel kissed your forehead when you beamed at him.

He looked over to Gabriel who was also crowding Dana and shouted, “¡Vamos!”

In a matter of seconds, Miguel had lifted you and brought you to the middle of the store where the workers were cooking up fresh meat.

You squeal in shock and laugh on the way over. Miguel’s not even struggling.

Gabriel on the other hand huffs as he places Dana down.

“You need to work on that, babe.”

“I can lift you when I want to!” Gabriel replies, petulant.

“For like one minute maybe. Why don’t you start working out with Miguel?”

“No thanks.” They both said in unison, almost carbon copies of each other.

Really, if Miguel didn’t work out, or if Gabriel did for about a year, they could definitely play off as twins. Only subtle things separating them, like Gabriel’s freckles, softer face, and slightly shorter height and Miguel’s less curly hair, thicker eyebrows, and deeper voice.

In your eyes, their bond was precious. You wondered what their baby pictures looked like.

“You guys are so cute,” you say, reaching up to squeeze both of their cheeks.

They both melt the same way in your hands. Miguel’s face is only a little bit hotter against your palm.

GymRat!Miguel who presses up against you while you both check out. You stay nonchalant and talk to the cashier like normal, but you could feel Miguel’s heartbeat through your thin romper.

Every breath he took molded on your skin, his chest rising and falling against your head.

He kept steady hands on your hips and waist, only moving them to pay for your snacks.

The cashier would take not-so-subtle breaks to stare up at him, face getting redder after each glance.

You could only think “me too, girl.”

He really did look good today. His shirt was open a little lower than normal, his shorts loose but tightening around his thighs with every step he took. His hair was slicked back with a few strands falling loose and shades sat perfectly on top of his head. A chain danced around his neck, the color glowing on his pretty skin. He was tanner than usual, the sun making him glow after so many morning runs.

To top it off he smelled really good. You wanted to lick him.

From how slow the cashier was moving, you knew she was ready to take a lick too.

You took moments like this in stride. Especially when Miguel was pressed so hard against you, you could feel his dick at the small of your back.

Still, when people still tried to hit on your boyfriend or gawked at him even when you caught them, it was hard not feel frustrated about others thinking he can be taken from you. Or just ignoring you.

More often than not, Miguel would bring you back down to earth with some action to let others know that he’s taken.

Today, it was a kiss to your neck and a smack to your ass followed by his hand rubbing circles in the same spot.

He grabbed the bags in one hand and your hip in the other.

You looked back to the cashier scanning the next customer far more aggressively than before.

GymRat!Miguel who eats half of his sandwich before starting the car back up.

You still place the other half in front of his mouth, feeding him occasionally.

He just smiles before and after each bite. Giddy with attention. You wipe his mouth to stop sauce from spilling from his shirt.

Miguel almost turns the car into turbo drive.

GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to the beach an hour or so later. It’s late Thursday afternoon, so the sun is still shining bright.

Gabriel is excited to finally be free from the tight back seat so he uses the opportunity to blast music from Miguel’s stereo.

“C’mon, Dana! Dance with me,” Gabriel said, pulling her out of the back seat and bringing her to the front of the var. “Let’s have a twerk-off.”

You can’t stop the laugh that spills out of your mouth. You couldn’t imagine either of them shaking anything.

“I can not twerk and you know it!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t shake. Don’t be shy now!”

You and Miguel get out of the car to stretch, Miguel watching the two over the hood of the car, unphased.

Gabriel turns to you with a glint in his eyes. “Can you twerk?”

You were ready to shake your ass on a yacht after some liquid courage, but you didn’t mind a little dancing beforehand.

You hurried to the front before the song was over and put your hands on the hood. You bend over with an arch in your back and move your ass to the beat of the song.

You hear Gabriel shout, “Oh shit! Go, go, go!”

Dana sprints, nearly bulldozing Gabriel to stand behind you and catch it. You laugh at the two and bend even deeper, encouraged by their cheers.

GymRat!Miguel whose eyes nearly pop out of his head when you bend over.

When did you learn how to do that?

He’s stunned for a second until he reaches inside the car and turns the radio off. He’s going to kill Gabriel.

Miguel hurries to the front and picks Dana up by her armpits to move her aside. “You guys are wasting my gas and neither you or you are CashApping me shit.”

He straightens you up and pulls your risen romper back over your ass. He stands behind you like a bodyguard, arms crossed and frown deepening.

“I don’t know what you think we’re going to be doing on this yacht, but all of my girls are throwing it back. You need to prepare yourself, Mig.” Dana scoffs, mostly offended that Miguel just removed her from a dream spot.

“Yeah, Mig. Be mindful of why you were invited to the function,” Gabriel turned his nose up and wrapped his arm around Dana. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, m’lady.”

Gabriel bowed to you and you curtsied back with a fake dress. The two of them walked like royalty to the trunk, gathering their bags.

GymRat!Miguel who stuttered trying to explain himself when you turned to him.

“Is it going to be a problem for you that I’m dancing with others?”

“No!” he said way too fast.

You gave him a look with your eyebrow raised.

“You just,” he paused. His voice got quieter as he played with the strap of your romper. “You never danced on me before.”

He had a pout on his face, mouth turned like a duck.

“Oh my god, Miguel. I can dance on you if you would like. You just have to ask.” He was so cute. You’ve never seen him get that jealous before.

You kind of want to play with him some more.

“Can you dance on me later?” he asks, not daring to meet your eyes.

“Of course.”

You giggle as you kiss his cheek. His pout slowly disappearing from his face.

GymRat!Miguel who is greeted by the enthusiastic captain with a shake that moves his entire arm. He’s a jolly little fellow, cheeks rosy and his mustache curled on the ends. He was also strangely stocky. He reminded Miguel of Santa Claus if he took vacations in the Bahamas when he’s not at the North Pole.

“I take it you’re Mr. Stone’s son, yes?”

“That would be me.”

“Excellent! Excellent. Your father has told me quite a lot about you. You sure do take after his height. My name is Captain Barrett and I’ll be steering the boat for you youngins this weekend. Me and your father go way back. And between you and me, I was better lookin’!”

Miguel chuckles awkwardly, trying to move the conversation along.

He finally looks past Miguel and sees the three of you standing there.

“And who might you three be?”

“This is my younger brother, Gabriel. His girlfriend, Dana.”

“And this is my girlfriend.” Miguel moves by your side and wraps his arm around your shoulders. His tone is full of warmth as he says your name.

“It’s nice to meet you all. Will you all be in our cabins this weekend?”

“Yeah, this is four of the ten staying on board. The others won’t get here until tomorrow at noon.”

“Is Kron supposed to be joining you all too?”

Miguel stiffens, his grip on your shoulder a little firmer.

“Not that I know of, no.”

“Perfect! He ruined my other boat and it took me ages to clean it up. Hopefully, you’re nothing like him.” Captain Barrett does a little pleading gesture with his hands.

“Welp, follow me and I’ll show you on board!”

GymRat!Miguel who is still stunned by the amount of things money can buy when he sees the yacht. He’ll never get used to the life of luxury that Tyler introduces to him.

“Holy shit,” Gabriel mutters as he stares up at the black and wooden beauty of the deck. Dana elbows in his side, telling him to be polite in front of the captain.

“Welcome to Black Jack.”

There were crew members there to hand out fancy smoothies and grab everyone’s bags.

You had seen yachts on some of your old high school classmates’ Insta stories but this was beyond.

“I’d like to introduce you guys to the crew. They’ll be assisting me to give you youngins a good time.”

Captain Barrett ran down the line and you all greeted every person. Miguel made mental notes of their names. They’ll be getting close with all of the surprises he had planned for you.

“And this is my son, Blake! He’ll be helping me up in the cockpit.”

Miguel stopped to shake his hand.

He was like the textbook definition of a pretty frat boy. Tall, but not O’Hara tall, tan, and handsome. He smiled and showed a straight line of teeth, dimples peeking through.

“Nice to meet you, Miguel. Kron’s really not coming?”

What’s with people asking about that dickhead today?

“Nope. Just us and our friends. If he does come, it’s news to me.”

Blake went to shake your hand and it was like he started to glow under the sun. His smile went up to his eyes and he mimicked the heartthrobs in the movies Miguel’s cousins watched growing up.

“And who’s this?”

“My name is-”

“My girlfriend,” Miguel said before you could even finish.

You looked up at him in shock, laughing it off. “That too, but I have a name.” You respond to Blake and shake his hand.

Miguel doesn’t like how his eyes scan your body. It was subtle, but he caught it.

Even as you all finish up greetings, Blake is still making moves towards you. The type of flirting that probably flew over your head, but Miguel has been around enough guys like him to know exactly what it was.

“So is this your first time on a boat?” Blake asked you while he guided you guys to your room.

“No, actually. But it’s definitely my first time on a yacht, especially one this huge.”

Miguel followed behind with Dana and Gabriel.

“Is this your first time on a boat?” Miguel mocked Blake quietly, mouth scrunched up.

“‘La envidia esta flaca, porque muerde y no come,’” Gabriel replied. “You’re turning green from your neck, bro. He’s just being nice.” (Envy is thin, because it bites and does not eat.)

“No, he’s definitely flirting,” Dana quipped. “He’s not even paying the rest of us any attention.”

“Thank you, Dana. And Gabriel, don’t ever quote a Spaniard to me again.”

“How do you call that flirting? He’s not even-” Gabriel paused as Blake laughed really loud at something that you said with his hand guiding you way too close on your ass. “Ah shit.”

Miguel stomped towards you two, yanking Blake’s hand off of you and replacing it with his.

“I think we’ve got it from here. You can show those two where they’ll be staying. Thanks,” Miguel nods his head towards Dana and Gabriel with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Right,” Blake responds to him with a blank face. “I’ll see you up on the deck.” Blake winks at you before walking further.

“Don’t kill him, Miguel,” Dana pats his shoulder as she walks by.

“You’ve got my permission to hurt him if he touches me one more time though,” you say, snuggling close to Miguel and patting at his chest.

“So, I’m killing him. Got it.”

GymRat!Miguel who watches you twirl around the VIP suite.

“Miguel! This is so beautiful! Look at the view.”

“Oh my god! There’s a walk-in closet!”

“There’s a bidet! How’d they fit that and a shower in here?”

Miguel leaned on the doorway, watching you comment on every little thing.

You made sure to start to spray everything with Lysol, a habit from your mom when traveling.

While you were in the bathroom, Miguel got out one of his first gifts of the night.

It was another keychain to add to your collection. He’s been working hard to have this weekend make up for the awful dinner night.

He placed it on the bed and started to open his bag to grab his pajamas.

“What’s this?” you ask, coming out to spray the bed.

“Just a little gift for you.”

“Aw, this is so cute!” Your voice gets higher as you take in the little legos. “They even look like us! When did you get these?”

“I got them made about a week ago. You like them?”

“I love them! Thank you, Miggy.”

GymRat!Miguel who wants to moan when you walk out.

You guys are going on a double date with Gabriel and Dana at a casual-not-so-casual restaurant farther in the city. That didn’t stop you from getting all dolled up.

You walk to him on the bed, standing in between his legs.

“Amor,” Miguel said, rubbing his hands up and down your backside. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you. So do you,” you responded, careful to not run your hands through his hair. It was a comfort for you, but you didn’t want to ruin it.

Instead, you bent down to kiss him in the quiet of the room. The sun was still out, but a lot dimmer than before. Little patches of sunlight caught Miguel’s eyes. The color was so deeply brown, you swore you saw speckles of red throughout.

He moved to sit you on his lap, glancing over every detail of your body.

“You’re making it harder for me to want to leave.”

“It’s funny that you say that. You’ve been walking around like you’re straight out of a beach movie. Chest out and legs for days.”

Miguel blushed and put his head in your chest, bending you back and holding you so you won’t fall.

“What are you hiding for? It’s true!” you laugh as Miguel seemed to burrow his face deeper.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to call me out.” He was just trying to impress you, per usual.

GymRat!Miguel who gets nervous on the way to the restaurant. It was one of those immersive experiences with projections on the plates that told stories with the meals. They were pretty cute to Miguel and he figured that all three of you guys would love it.

The only thing is, he pulled some strings with Tyler to add an extra animation in there. He’s not sure how much that cost, but he’s glad he didn’t have to see the price.

GymRat!Miguel who side-eyes Gabriel when he just about screams as the little chef walks across the animated place.

“He’s so tiny!” he whisper-shouts. “So precious!”

By the time the first course comes out Gabriel is fighting tears.

“Control it, Gabri,” Miguel says, rubbing his back.

“I’m trying. I really am.”

GymRat!Miguel whose heart blooms when you laugh at one of the scenes. The little chef is squabbling with a giant shrimp and losing the battle.

GymRat!Miguel whose heart speeds up when the special animation starts up.

Only the two of your plates are lit up. There’s a river of chocolate that separates the two. From Miguel’s plate, there’s a little version of him that calls to your plate. He watches as your eyes grow when a mini you climbs on top of the plate and yells back. Your character throws him a kiss, sending a pink flutter across the river. The wave of it goes straight to mini Miguel’s heart who in turn, falls backwards dramatically.

The real you lets out a watery laugh at the scene, eyes looking at Miguel briefly in shock.

Mini Miguel jumps back up and gets to work, digging around the plate to grab biscoff cookies from the chocolate ocean to make a boat. While he works, your character wanders around the plate cutely, tidying up the area for his arrival.

When the boat is finished, Mini Miguel uses a giant spoon to steer the boat, singing out brightly the closer he gets to you. The mini you is jumping up and down, cheering him on just like you do in real life.

Once he gets to the edge of your plate, you lean close to give him a kiss. He climbs from the boat onto the plate and spins you around. You giggle in his hold until he lets you down.

From there, he starts to use the spoon to drag a chocolate message across the plate. He takes confident steps, spreading the brown syrup across the plate with ease.

“Tú eres mi luz.” (You are my light.)

When he finishes it, you both sit at the edge of the plate, feeding each other scoops of chocolate from the giant spoon. They both look up at you to wave, the Mini Miguel cheesing extremely hard as he waves both arms.

The animation fades away in a wave of browns and pinks, the waiters bringing out the actual plates of food.

The floodgates open when you’re presented with the same chocolate message, a slice of chocolate biscoff cake, and little chocolate decorations of the mini you and Miguel.

“Oh my god, the spoon is here too,” you say with emotion, picking up a chocolate coated spoon. “Miguel!”

You don't know what to do. You keep fanning your face in hopes to stop the tears from coming out and ruining the light makeup you had on. Dana hands you a pointed napkin and you thank her while holding your head back.

Gabriel is a mess, faces wet with tears. His cheeks are round as he blows out air to control his breathing.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, mi amor,” Miguel’s face is ridden with worry as he reaches across the table to grab your hand. He looks to Gabriel and sighs, “You either, hermanito.” (little brother)

“I’m good. I gotta just,” Gabriel waves a hand in front of his face cutely. “Just gotta get this out. If you’ll excuse me.”

He gets up to shuffle to the bathroom.

“I better go help him out. He gets a little delirious when he cries like that,” Dana says, rubbing your shoulder as she leaves the table.

Miguel wastes no time to sit in Dana’s seat, taking the napkin from your hands and wiping carefully at your tears.

“I love you. So, so much,” you say, resting your face in his hands. “Everyday, you find new ways to surprise me. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m just…”

You pause, waving your hands in the air, unable to express how you felt. Just thinking about it has the tears spilling over again.

“Hey, hey,” Miguel chides, catching your tears again. “If you keep crying, I’m going to cry.”

“I can’t help it, Miguel! You made a cookie boat to get to me. How can I not cry?”

Miguel reaches to kiss your cheeks in hopes to help you subside the tears, “I know, baby, I know. But to answer your first thought, when I think of you, the ideas just pour out of me. You’re my first true love, so I don’t know all the ends and outs of a relationship, but I do know what it feels like to be loved. I just want to extend that feeling to you.”

You stare in awe and the man sitting next to you, eyes glistening as you take in his words.

“I think I need another tissue.”

Miguel laughs as he grabs one to pat at your face again.

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you bites of the cake while you feed him scoops of ice cream when you’ve calmed down. You can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

divider by: @iwonbin 🩵

Part 9.2 here!

a/n: This is half of the chapter, but I had so much fun writing this! (mostly because I was not doing my actual work while writing half of it), especially Gabriel's silly ass. Like, it was super duper fun. Writing jealous Miguel was also great. There's so much stuff about reader that he was unaware of and I've been imagining him sitting at a table and yelling like Kendrick when it all plays back in his mind.

As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵

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joequiinn · 9 months ago

Text

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 2

[chap one] | [all chapters here] | [chap three]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Note | Oooh I'm excited for this chapter! Would love to hear what everyone thinks about Eddie's characterization! And, after editing this chapter about half a dozen times, I feel like I'm still just not quite conveying the motivations of the character well, so let me know if her thoughts/feelings could be more clear!

Taglist | @daisyridleyss @munsonssweets @marrowfrog00 @lotrefcp @rach5ive

WC | 4.0k

Chapter Two

Getting away on Sunday afternoon to meet Eddie was easy. You’d celebrated your birthday on Saturday, with your friends dragging you along on plans that they put together weeks in advance before you returned home for a far too formal dinner with your parents. You probably could have - and should have - been more excited considering that you were toasting your legal adulthood, but if anything, it just stirred even more desire for change and rebellion in you. What good was being a legal adult if you were still trapped in high school, if you were still just following the status quo?

You told your parents as you were leaving the house that afternoon that you were going to the ice rink - your dad grunted in acknowledgement, too caught up in his reading to really hear you, and your mom commended you for how dedicated you were to skating. To both responses, you rolled your eyes, leaving without saying goodbye.

You knew exactly which picnic table Eddie referred to in his note, as you weren’t the first person to meet him there for a drug deal, nor would you be the last. It was a well-known spot for students to meet with the metalhead - although it seemed like no one actually talked about it, probably because they themselves didn’t want to admit to any interaction with him, somehow everyone knew exactly where Eddie made his deals.

There were trails running through a lot of the forest that made it easy to find your destination; you left your car on a neighborhood street not far from the school, and trekked your way into the woods. It was still pretty in late September - leaves weren’t falling to the ground quite yet, and the sounds of wildlife could still be heard up in the trees and low on the ground. Not that you were one to appreciate nature much at all. But it was hard not to at least notice it as you walked quietly along the trail, going over exactly how you might propose this crazy idea of yours while trying your best not to trip over rocks or step in mud puddles.

When you arrived at the picnic area, Eddie was nowhere to be found, which was actually a relief to you. It gave you more time to think, to calm down and find the best means of conveying this idea to him. You felt stupid, having this strange and foreign anxiety in your chest, but it couldn’t be helped. Best you could do was relax and put on a cool face whenever the delinquent did finally show up.

You were about to sit at the picnic table, but quickly decided against it once you took a closer look at the rotting wood - it was disgusting and dirty, and you weren’t going to risk ruining one of your favorite skirts or catching some nasty disease. So, instead, you paced, keeping your mind busy as you waited, taking in your surroundings with an air of boredom as the hour hit 4 and you were still here alone. Eddie better show, or you weren’t going to be happy.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps crunching on twigs and brush caused you to look around, not quite sure which direction the sound was coming from at first. But it didn’t take long for you to spot Eddie hiking his way to you, surprised amusement on his face as he approached. He cocked his head, lips tugged back in a grin, as your heart skipped nervously; god, you felt so stupid being edgy like this, it was so unwarranted.

“Well, well…” He drawled, crossing his arms as he walked closer to you, “I’ve seen a lot, but the ice princess wants something from me? Now I really have seen everything.”

The way he said “ice princess” was jarring, almost as if it was both an insult and an inarguable fact. Yes, you’d heard people call you that before, but never with the gusto that Eddie Munson added to it - you briefly wondered if the nickname was more common than you originally thought, and then you wondered who it was that first came up with it. Was it Eddie? No, if anything it was probably someone in your own circle that started that stupid nickname, maybe even Duncan - you didn’t think Eddie cared enough to come up with a nickname for some popular kid who he’d never even spoken to before.

It’s as if his use of the derogatory nickname immediately reminded you that there was no reason to be nervous, because you could feel your usually cool demeanor coming back to you.

“Don’t cream your pants, Munson.” You replied bluntly, crossing your arms as if to mimic Eddie’s posture. His brows went up in surprise - it briefly crossed your mind that he might not have known what your voice sounded like, let alone how you talked. Well, now he knew.

Eddie tilted his head down slightly as if speaking to you conspiratorially, “I wasn’t expecting a chick like you to be so vulgar.”

You rolled your eyes. Okay, maybe this discussion would be more challenging than you had anticipated. Having never actually interacted with Eddie before today, you couldn’t have predicted what your dynamic together would be. From what you could tell after only this one minute of interacting, your personalities were bound to clash, making your impossible plan all the more impossible.

“I guess I’m full of surprises.” You replied plainly, your tone disinterested. Without thinking, you leaned your rear on the picnic table, but quickly jumped away when you remembered how dirty it was, an affronted sound escaping your lips. As you tried to wipe dirt from your ass, Eddie chuckled. To that, you shot him a cold glare.

“Alright, what are you looking for, princess?” Eddie asked while sitting on the filthy bench - that felt intentional, as if he was mocking your disgust at the grime and muck on the table, “Ask and you shall receive.”

You raised a critical brow at his theatrical tone, at the way he said ‘princess,’ at his entire demeanor. Yup, this was going to be impossible. You were certain that your judgmental expression was clear as day, because you could see the cogs turning behind Eddie’s eyes, how he was analyzing you just as much as you were him.

You stared at him with your arms crossed, your hip jutting out to the side as you briefly considered him, considered what you wanted to ask of him. You made a bit of a harsh face as you responded, “That’s a bold claim, considering that you don’t know what I’m going to ask.”

You met Eddie’s dark eyes as if to make a point, his brow furrowing in curious response. His gaze was mocking as he held your stare, “You think anything you ask for will shock me? Snobby rich kids always want the same stuff.”

“‘Snobby?’” You nearly snapped, glaring smally in offense. To that, Eddie pointed his hand at the empty bench across from him, a defiant look on his face.

“Take a seat then.” He challenged, the corner of his mouth curling up. You make another grossed out face, to which he gives a half-hearted shrug, giving him all the confirmation that he needed, “That’s what I thought.”

You scoffed, turning your back while grumbling, “God, I knew this was a stupid idea…”

You started to walk off in annoyance, trying your best not to trip over rocks or sticks in your haste, but only made it a few steps before Eddie called after you, “Wait, wait, come back…”

You spun back around, but remained planted where you stood, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms as if prompting him to continue, to grovel and earn your trust.

“I’m just joking,” Eddie raised his hands in a lazy surender, his face growing surprisingly sincere after a moment, although that sincerity was also laced with a hint of judgment, “What are you gonna ask for, then?”

He’s patient, watching you as you deliberate what to do. Was it worth it? Did you really need Eddie to make this plan work? Should you call this off while you still had the chance?

No. This plan was stupid as all hell, but you were going to do it. With a determined little stomp of your foot - Eddie smirking in amusement at the mildly childish action - you approached the picnic table, bracing your hands against it as you tried to ignore the feeling of dirt getting under your nails.

“If you laugh at me, I’ll ruin you.” You threatened while meeting his eyes. Again, Eddie grinned, but he otherwise kept his mouth shut, which seemed to be his way of agreeing to your terms, “I don’t need drugs, I need a favor. It’s gonna sound… honestly ridiculous.”

“Okay…” Eddie leaned forward so that your faces were only a foot apart; his expression was one of neutral attentiveness, however, you could see the sparkle of intrigue in his eyes. You don’t pull back from the close proximity he created, studying one another’s faces; it felt strange to be observed by him so closely, as Eddie had a way of scrutinizing you that felt different from those you knew, different from the way people normally looked at you. You tried to find the best way of proposing your dumb idea, but nothing would make your request sound less crazy than it already is.

Finally, you gave up with a sigh and just blurted it out, “I need you to date me.”

Despite your earlier threat, an unexpected bark of a laugh jumped out of Eddie’s mouth. He raised his fist in front of his lips and pretended to cough, as if that would do anything to hide his very clear amusement. Your eyes widened in intense warning. To his credit, Eddie composed himself quickly, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, although you could still see a little twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Can you repeat that for me?” He prompts, fighting off his laughter and confusion.

Again, you roll your eyes - god, you were going to be doing that a lot with this guy, weren’t you? You were already getting tired of it.

“I don’t want to actually date you,” You said as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world, “Just pretend. You know, like one of your dumb games.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened a little at the insult, but instead of retaliating he simply pulled back, putting a bit of distance between you. He looks you up and down in consideration, his mind racing to understand your unexpected request.

“Care to elaborate?” He questioned, his tone mildly critical.

You purse your lips in annoyance as you consider where to start, eyeing Eddie closely - how the hell did you explain to someone that you wanted them to be your fake boyfriend? You sighed, pulling back from the table, starting to walk in a slow circle around it. The motion was vaguely like skating around a rink, so in an odd way it helped you think.

“I hate literally everything about my life,” You paused, half expecting Eddie to mock your pathetic woes, but he remained silent, “It’s my senior year and I’m only now realizing that nothing in my life is up to me, that I don’t have any control over anything - everything is decided by someone else. And I’m fucking tired of it.”

You could see mild surprise on Eddie’s face, and you wondered if it was because of your foul language - it always seemed to surprise people to hear the way you could talk considering how nice and well-behaved you appeared, although you’d always been anything but.

You continued, “I want to do something stupid, something that’ll piss off my parents, that’ll get everyone to stop treating me like some untouchable, perfect princess.” You chose the word deliberately, looking Eddie dead in the eye, “And what stupider than to date Eddie freaking Munson?”

Now, it was Eddie’s turn to look somewhat offended, “Gee, thanks.”

Maybe it wasn’t the most effective tactic to keep insulting the man you were trying to bribe, but you just couldn’t seem to help yourself. You didn’t exactly know how to be nice to anyone. Eddie’s eyes considered you for a moment before something of a mean look flickered across his face.

“This has something to do with that boyfriend of yours, doesn’t it? What, you break up or something?” And then an almost mirthful realization flashed across his eyes, obviously seeing some change in your demeanor that you didn’t intend for him to notice, “Ooh, I get it. He broke up with you, didn’t he? You trying to win him back?”

You brace yourself against the table again as you glare at him, but otherwise you maintain your composure, your tone condescending and mean as you reply, “I do not want him back. He could drive off a bridge for all I care. I want to get under his skin. I want to get under everyone’s skin.”

You could tell that Eddie didn’t get it - he still didn’t understand why you needed his help in this ridiculous plan of yours, and he didn’t understand why you were feeling the way you did. With a sigh, you try to calm down and unclench your tight jaw.

“Look, Munson,” You caved in and stiffly took a seat on the opposite bench as if to bolster your argument, to make him take you a little more seriously, “I know it sounds crazy, but I just know nothing else will work.”

“And how do you know that?” He urged - you couldn’t tell if he thought you were an idiot or if he was actually interested in hearing you out.

You stared at Eddie for a long moment, trying to find the easiest way to make him understand. He stared back, again showing far more patience than you would have expected from him, especially with the likes of you. As you study his face in thought, you finally sigh, shaking your head as you look away with a vague annoyance set on your features.

“I don’t actually know, okay?” You start, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye for a few moments, “What I want is complete and utter… social suicide. To just stop worrying about my reputation or what people think. I’m sick and tired of expectations and status quos and doing what I’m told or what people expect. I want to piss everyone off. I want to piss Duncan off. I just… it feels like I need to change, you know?”

“Nope, I have no idea what you mean.” Eddie says plainly, and as you glare at him, you realize he’s joking once he finally cracks a smile. His eyes are surprisingly kind as he leans forward on his elbows, parroting your words, “When have I ever subscribed to expectations and status quos and doing what I’m told?”

At that rhetorical response, your face relaxed for the first time this entire conversation. Hell, you even felt a mild excitement wash over you as you consider what his words were implying, “So… you’ll do it?”

Eddie makes a face as if he’s still mulling over the idea, still trying to figure out what exactly your motivations were, “I mean, you’re bratty and rude and this plan is kind of stupid, but I might do it.”

“Might?” You ask, trying not to sound too pushy or annoyed by his casual insults. If this was going to happen, you both had to learn to stop prodding at each other like this, learn to stop picking on each other just because you could. That might prove to be the most challenging part of all of this, though.

Eddie smirks, rising back to his feet as he contemplates, “What do I get out of this? And don’t say money - that’ll make me feel like a prostitute.”

As you pulled a face, Eddie grinned at his own comment, obviously finding that idea amusing in some way. And like a teenage mimicry of a business person, you sat up straighter, looking at him plainly as you presented your offer, “No, but I do have one idea. But if you think of something better…?”

Eddie nods in confirmation, urging you to continue.

“Well, my uncle’s a cop--”

At that, Eddie chuckles abruptly while cutting you off, “Oh, trust me, I know exactly who your uncle is.”

Aside from shooting him a small look, you continue as if he hadn’t said anything, focused on getting this plan hatched, “I think I can help you. You can’t get in trouble with them anymore if I’m the one taking the fall.”

Eddie’s brows rose in surprise at your words, his arms crossing as he studied you, “What, you think your pretty little ass can handle a night in lock up?”

“No, genius,” You roll your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, “If it falls on me, there will be no jail, no arrest, nothing. The minute I tell someone who my uncle is, they won’t even think about putting a hand on me, that would be stupid. I’m effectively untouchable.”

Eddie nods, rubbing his chin, “But doesn’t that go out the window if you commit… What did you call it? ‘Social suicide?’”

You shrug, “Maybe. Maybe not. But I can probably keep them off your ass for the rest of the school year so long as you don’t do something too stupid.”

“You want to date me until graduation?” Eddie makes a dramatic show of placing his hand to his chest as if he’s flattered.

“Jesus…” You mutter to yourself with a sigh, “We’ll see where it goes.”

Eddie, again, nodded while humming in consideration. You sat quietly, waiting for him to add something to the conversation. You could tell that he was drawing it out, though, milking the moment just for the hell of it, to put you on edge. Suddenly, he slaps his hand down firmly on the table, causing you to jump in your seat.

“We have a deal.” His eyes glint as he smirks at you, “We play happy little couple, we destroy your reputation, piss off all your friends, and you keep me out of trouble. What could possibly go wrong?”

It suddenly felt like he jinxed everything by saying that, ruined it before you could even begin, but you ignored that feeling as you gave him a slight smile, actually pleased with how the conversation had gone. Of course, there was still that strange sense of disbelief at the entire situation - it was the most ridiculous thing you’d ever thought of or done, but that also made it kind of exhilarating in its odd way.

Eddie walked around the table, leisurely sliding onto the bench beside you, intentionally leaning over to bump your shoulder playfully. It was unexpected, causing you to make a slight face at him, but that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Look, princess, you gotta start being nicer to me if you want to convince anyone that we’re a couple.” Although his tone was teasing, you knew what Eddie said was true. Even you, known for your bitchiness, couldn’t be too mean to the man that you were supposedly dating, especially if you wanted to get under Duncan’s skin - the nicer you were to Eddie, the more it would annoy Duncan that you were never that nice to him.

“Fine.” You say plainly, looking him in the eye, “If that’s the case, no more ‘princess.’”

Eddie made a teasing face, “Then what do I call you? It would look strange if your boyfriend didn’t have any pet names for you, right?”

You sighed, but he did make a good point - it made you realize that you needed to lay out some ground rules for this whole fake dating thing, something that you hadn’t accounted for during your planning stage.

“When we’re around other people, just call me something nice. I don’t care what it is.”

Eddie’s playful expression was still in place, “Oh, you’ll regret that…”

You rolled your eyes, and yet this time the corner of your mouth pulled up into an amused grin despite yourself, “Just be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you. Can’t be too hard, right? And don’t touch me unless it’s in front of people.”

You looked him up and down critically with that comment. It's not that you were worried about him being gross or anything like that, you just hated people touching you unnecessarily.

“Any other commands, my liege?”

“What, you want me to write this down for you or something?”

Eddie pretended to consider the idea, “If only I knew how to read, princess.”

You made a face, knowing that Eddie kept calling you that dumb nickname quite intentionally, that he kept testing you with deliberate aim. Trying to resist rising to the tempting bait, you continued explaining the dos and don’ts of fake dating.

“Okay,” You started, raising your pointer finger. Eddie made a show of paying close attention, surely just to mock you, as you raised another finger with each new rule you stated, “One: we have to try to be nice to each other. Two: no unnecessary touching if no one’s around. Three: we have to spend a lot of time together, like, not just at school - we have to go out sometimes, especially to places where people will see us. Four: we have to be extra obnoxious when Duncan’s around. Five: … I’m in charge.”

At the last instruction, Eddie laughed right in your face, “You’re in charge? I thought this was a relationship, not a dictatorship.”

You had a response ready to leave your lips, but you let it go - practice for the inevitable niceties to come, you supposed. Eddie studied you for a moment while half smiling, seemingly aware that you were doing your best to bite your tongue.

“Alright, alright, you’re in charge…” He rose to his feet, which seemed to signal that the conversation was coming to an end, “So, what, starting tomorrow I’m your boyfriend?”

“I mean… Should we build up to it first?” The question sounded ridiculous, you knew it sounded juvenile and naive in its way, but it had to be asked. And yet again, Eddie chuckled.

“Sure, we’ll ‘build up to it.’” His tone was teasing, but not quite so mean as before. Eddie studied the look on your face, trying to learn how to read you considering the amount of time you were surely about to start spending together, “Don’t worry, princess, I’ve got this in the bag. Relinquish some of that control a little, okay?”

He slowly began to walk backwards towards the trail, waiting for you to join him, so you stood to walk alongside him. You almost neurotically began dusting yourself, trying in vain to get the dirt and the mud and the dead leaves off of your skirt, out from under your nails.

You caught up to Eddie easily enough, continuing to pick at your well manicured nails, “I’m serious, Munson, please don’t fuck this up.”

Eddie threw his arm around your shoulder, once again disregarding one of your rules without a single care. He looked down at you with a teasing look on his face, confirming that he did that on purpose, confirming that he was sure to keep doing it on purpose, “Relax. I’ll flirt with you tomorrow, I’ll flirt some more throughout the week, I’ll start hanging around your locker or talking to you at lunch, and then by the end of the week I’ll ask you on a date. Deal?”

You stared into Eddie’s eyes a moment before lifting his arm off your shoulders, stepping just out of reach with a mild sneer on your lips, “Okay, deal.”

His smile is wide as he walks alongside you back to your cars. This was going to be one hell of a time, and he, frankly, was all too curious to see how it would turn out.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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yannisdesk · 2 months ago

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On Arcane & Antivillains

One thing I really enjoy about Arcane is how it handles antivillains.

For one, most of the characters (main ones) would actually fall into the category of antivillain at one point, or in the case of our two protagonists, become one. Arcane is arguably ripe with them.

An antivillain is essentially the opposite of an antihero. Simplified, antiheros do good things out of selfish or questionable motives, antivillains do things that are objectively bad or evil, but for noble reasons or for a greater cause. Another term for them is "sympathetic villain" however that term is too vague (there are villains out there who are sympathetic, but are none the less traditionally evil and therefore do not qualify as antivillains), and "antivillain" is a much better term mirror to "antihero." A common thread I've noticed among antivillain characters is some level of a Machiavellian approach to achieving their goals - the ends justify the means type of philosophy is something you'll always find characters that fit this category. At the very least, they dabble with it. In their eyes their actions are always justified because they're fighting for a good cause.

To put things into perspective, I'll use two examples. Harley Quinn shifts around, but she is frequently an antihero, take her depiction in both Suicide Squad movies. She does take down bad guys, however she's not doing so out of a sense of altruism, but to get a reduced prison sentence. Very cut-and-dry example of antiheroism.

On the flip side you have Magneto. Now from what I've seen (I've dabbled in the comics, but haven't dived in all the way) in the comics he gets very dark with the antihuman action. But in the Xmen movies, he definitely does some down right villainous stuff, but his intention remains the same - he wants mutants to live in a world free of bigotry and he's willing to do anything necessary to achieve that, including committing atrocities.

Now if this sounds very confusing to you and you swear you've heard these terms interchangeably or that you can think of several characters that are labeled as type A when they should be type B or vice versa, that's pretty normal. These aren't archetypical heroes and villains we're talking about, so it can be hard to categorize them, and honestly most characters in general will go back and forth or shift at one point or another, so all you need to know is that those definitions are the ones we're working with in this post.

Here are the characters from Arcane that I think suit this label, and others that I think will.

Disclaimer: this is not me hating on the characters. I love all of these characters for this layer to their character. This is not a "oh, look, this character is bad actually," post. If anything, consider it a celebration of their gray morality and how well its explored in the show.

Silco

Duh. Silco is objectively pretty evil. Setting up a drug empire that destroys your own people, getting in-cahoots with corrupt cops, killing kids, and aiding in destroying a young girl's mental health is multiple levels of foul. However, for him, all of this was part of an elaborate plan to liberate Zaun, which is being aggressively oppressed by Piltover. They were necessary sacrifices made to the cause, and worth it because it will bring forth better days for him and his people. Now obviously, a lot of his actions definitely have to do with his own ego, however the only time Zaun isn't prioritized is when it comes to Jinx, who is like a daughter to him, and even that realization comes to smack in the face late in his arc.

Sevika

I'd argue she's even more noble than most since she truly is rooted in the cause for Zaun. Not only is she willing to do some pretty bad things for the "greater-good", she's even willing to betray people who she views as unfit or incompetent. And what's even more telling is that she doesn't do this for power (which is arguably a part of Silco's prerogative). Sure, she's his #2, but he doesn't exactly show any favoritism. And Sevika seemingly isn't even trying to become the new leader of Zaun after Silco's death from the season 2 clips, but will support Jinx, despite the fact that she probably could dethrone her. She's no true blue hero, but she's not a megalomaniac either.

The Entire Council of Piltover (Minus Mel & Jayce)

As obnoxious as they are, none of them are mustache-twirling villains. As we see with characters like Sheriff Grayson (not a council member, but they share the same sentiment), they legitimately think they're protecting the city with their neglectful leadership and oppression of Zaunites. Yes, this includes Heimerdinger, who seemingly only started caring about Zaun once he was booted out of the council, so that places him firmly in antihero territory in my opinion.

Why did I exclude Mel and Jayce? Their plots are actually upward in terms of morality, especially Jayce who by the end is closer to being a traditional hero by prioritizing peace and progress over the status quo or war, and actively makes the first move of trying to right Piltover's wrongs. Mel's arc has also moved this direction as well, as she went from arguing that Jayce and Viktor should build Hextech weapons in case of war with the Zaunites, to fully embracing peace. You could argue that Mel wanting the weapons means she was at some point an antivillain, and I might agree, but as it stands, she's firmly in the clear.

So, why are the rest of the council still considered antivillains? Honestly, we just don't know much about their motivations to say. They ultimately did a good deed in voting for peace, but you know, one good deed doesn't wash-out the bad and vice versa. They're not even on thin ice for me, they're still fighting for the surface.

Marcus

Questioning your actions does not mean you can't be an antivillain, and Marcus is a good example of that. He's is kind of like Caitlyn if she were way less compassionate and very incompetent. Marcus does not think his actions are evil, according to show runners he only places Vi in Stillwater to protect her from Silco; he gets involved with Silco because he wants justice for the building explosion and it goes out of hand. That said, he also threw a child into a dangerous prison with no charges and with the intention of keeping her there for life, and worked with a kingpin who was actively antagonizing his own people while reaping benefits from an abusive system. So yeah, Marcus falls more into being an antivillain than full-blown villain, he's still firmly an antagonist though.

Ambessa

I know it's very popular in the fandom to call Ambessa a traditional bad-guy type of villain, but she is actually very nuanced. For one - she does not see her actions as evil, nor are her motivations behind doing them rooted in it. Ambessa, as she states in Mel's flashback, was raised in the Noxian way. Her grandfather literally made her search the dead bodies of the people they massacred when she was a youth, and she was indoctrinated to believe that this was in the best interest of her family and the Noxian people. By showing strength and ruthlessness, she's telling the rest of the world: "Stay away from House Medarda and Noxus." Hence, why Kino's death wrecks her, because she values herself over how effective she is at warding people off from messing with her family. Her main reason for getting involved with the war between Piltover and Zaun will 100% be because Mel's life was nearly lost due to Jinx's bomb, and this is coming straight off of her son's death mind you. So, while Ambessa may definitely be one of the most ruthless people on this list, she is not at Palpatine levels of evil yet, not by a long shot.

Jinx

You guys saw this coming, right? This barely needs an explanation. Jinx grew up in the Lanes, was a victim of Piltover's oppression multiple times throughout her youth, was willing to fight for their freedom as seen in episode 2, and in the end, that desire, along with her being adopted by Silco, manifested in her doing multiple acts of violence, including terrorism against Piltover, which frequently hurt people who weren't guilty of anything. (No, blowing up the building in episode 3 doesn't count as one of her evil deeds because it was an accident.) We understand completely why Jinx does what she does, even though it hurts to see her slip farther and farther into this mindset.

Way more subtle (for now) but I'd argue she's there come episodes 8 and 9. Hell, you could argue that her arc is about her sense of morality breaking down due to realizing how impossible the situation between Zaun and Piltover is, and embracing an "ends justifies the means" type mindset that Vander tried to sway her against back in episode 2. Wanting to stop a kingpin from using this new dangerous drug to destroy your city and sister? A noble cause, indeed. Not really caring that (or being passive over the fact that) children die in process because of their approximation to said bad guy? Yikes. [EDIT: Since we're on this topic: here's a link to where I explored this aspect of her character. I did this a while ago, but I thought it best to include it here too for added context). Now, I know what some of you are going to say - how is this any different from, say, Steve Rogers telling Wanda Maximoff that sometimes there's collateral damage when doing hero work? The difference is that Steve didn't argue that those people had it coming because they're associated with the bad guys/or in their way, which Vi does. That's some dangerous conviction right there, and we'll probably see that elaborated on in season 2 given that she's becoming an Enforcer which is a position that lends itself to abuse of power (and if it goes anyway like things do with her game counterpart, she will engage in police brutality and not see an issue with it, but given that Arcane's Vi is way more well, nuanced, than her game counterpart I don't think it will go on for long). While we're on the topic of Vi, according to her prison records, she had a notorious reputation while doing time to the point that I find it funny Silco didn't put 2-and-2 together that the girl with short pink hair beating the shit out of and attempting to murder all of his goons that went to Stillwater was possibly the same girl that wiped the floor with those same goons the night Vander died.

Potential Antivillains of Season 2:

These are characters that I predict will become antivillains at some point during season 2 based off of where their season 1 arc left and clues from season 2 teasers and clips. This is not me saying for sure this will happen, only a prediction. But if it does come true, I will gladly collect $5 per accurate plot point.

Viktor

Two words: glorious evolution.

We all love Viktor. We all love good-guy Viktor, and we will also more than likely love not-so-good-guy Viktor due to how complex that arc will be. If it will go anything like his game-lore (which I suspect it will) his noble intentions will never leave him, just simply evolve to include some less-than-heroic actions and justifications. He still wants to improve the undercity, and well, humanity overall, with hextech, motivated by the injustices he's been put through his own life and his illness, but he will go about it in some very unorthodox ways, and his arc in Arcane is about him confronting if he wants to "evolve" his morality for the sake of his ultimate goal, which is progress. Viktor would definitely agree with the sentiment expressed by Gloria Steinem (character depiction, not a real quote) in Mrs. America - "Revolutions are messy, people get left behind."

Caitlyn

I'm pretty sure she actually will become apart of the antivillain roster in season 2, but noting is for certain. Caitlyn is perhaps the saddest version of this there is, because we see where she starts out. She doesn't want to be like everyone else in her circle, she tries to break free and be better. She wants to do good by both Piltover and Zaun. She has hope, gentleness, and doesn't place herself above even those who occupy the lowest levels of Zaun. She puts herself, her status, and her life on the line to discover the truth, and comes out her time with Vi steadfast in wanting to help heal Zaun. She can be a little naive and ignorant, but she never does so with malicious or ill intent. She is the kindest person in Arcane.

But, given that her mother was killed in a terrorist attack set off by the new Head Zaunite in Charge, things will change. As we see, Caitlyn becomes a sheriff on the Enforcer squad, and now her goal is no longer to sow peace between Zaun and Piltover, it's to avenge her mother by assassinating Jinx. Of course, this will be due in part that Caitlyn thinks snuffing Jinx out will solve the problem, which will be ironic and hypocritical because she told Ekko that getting revenge on Silco won't solve anything in Zaun, but now that she's in the same predicament, the tables have turned and now diplomacy is off the table. She still has that hero-complex, as she lives by the lessons of Sheriff Grayson, but now it's with a twist. The idealistic Caitlyn who believed in giving peace a chance through reform is gone, and she now believes that there's little to no cost too great for her to achieve this, even if that (possibly - again season 2 hasn't come out yet, so we shall see) means hurting innocent Zaunites. And what's scary is that Caitlyn has the intelligence, dedication, talent, and efficiency to pull it off. Truthfully, I believe we won't just be getting Sheriff Caitlyn in season 2, but also Dictator Caitlyn.

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mae-gi-writes · 16 days ago

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let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (3)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part three | next part >>>

"Seems like the night out helped then?"

Osamu can't hide his grin from the way you're flushing a deep red. It's so cute and adorable to see you this way, after months and months of just having the corpse of your soul wander around his coffee bar like you didn't know where else to go.

Now it seems, is a completely different story. You're glowing.

"How do you know that?" you almost splutter out your coffee as you gawk at your cousin from the other end of the bar.

Osamu proceeds to wipe down the counter. It's a Monday afternoon and it seems that the activity has slowed down somewhat, giving him a chance to catch up with you. He tries to stop the smile from spreading across his face as he answers, "how do you think I know?"

"Your brother can't keep his mouth shut now, can he?" you mutter into your coffee with a scowl.

Osamu laughs, "can you blame him? This is probably the first time since your breakup that you've even considered the possibility of going out and meeting new people. Let alone go through with it. You should be thanking him--"

"He takes too much credit for my happiness. He doesn't need more stroking to his ego."

"Point taken," Osamu can't argue with that. His brother is somewhat of an egocentric bastard. One with a kind heart and a nice smile nevertheless. But still a bastard. Done with the cleaning, he walks over to you as he leans atop the kitchen counter, "so? How was it then?"

"Fine."

Osamu's brow raises, "give me a bit more than that, y/n. I'm not stupid."

You pause, "it was..." the words feel weird swimming along your tongue, "...fun."

"Right?" your cousin breaks into a grin, "and how's the little chica doin'?"

"The little chica is a little too obsessed with her PE teacher."

"At least she likes him."

You hum, "point taken."

Talking to Osamu is a lot easier than his twin counterpart, solely because he isn't as dramatic and is rather subtle, able to control his emotions better and easier to have a conversation with actual sense without going off the rails every five minutes. It was refreshing, despite the fact that you didn't spend as much time as the grey-haired young man due to clashing schedules.

"So...this Kuroo guy..."

A groan can't help but fall from your lips as your head hits the counter, "Osamu, I'm twenty-nine. I don't need any boy talk--"

"Oh yes you do honey," he sing-songs and leans even closer, grey eyes sparkling. It's in these moments that he resembles Atsumu so much you wish to whack him one, "just because your father ain't here doesn't mean you get to do whatever you wa--"

"Enough." your hand shoots out, slapping onto Osamu's mouth.

He pulls away with a cackle, wiping his hands along his apron, "I'm serious though. Kuroo's a good guy, but if he ever does anything out of line--"

"Yeah yeah I got it."

"--I'll kick his balls so hard--"

"Osamu!"

"Okay okay," he chuckles and holds out his hands in surrender, and you glower at him from your seat.

It's bad enough that Atsumu has constantly been wheedling some answers out of you. Adding Osamu to the mix is not something you want on your agenda. Ever since that night, you have been exchanging messages with the said PE Coach despite the growing anxiety about where this will all lead to. But in-between organizing events for your job, baking cakes and debating on whether to sign those darned papers, it's been a welcome distraction.

Okay, maybe more than a welcome distraction.

It's been...amazing.

Something to look forward to. Someone that seemed to understand you, your sense of humor, who doesn't judge and makes you smile no matter what mood you might be in. And somehow, it's hard for your heart to just close off when Kuroo is so insistent on making it melt into a puddle of goo.

Like that one time you were late to pick up Sakura from athletics practice for instance, having been taken up with a client on the other side of the city centre only to have rushed through traffic like a madwoman, arriving when the courtyard was practically empty. Panicked and more than a little worried about Sakura's whereabouts, you had found her at the entrance of the gymnasium, playing footsie with none other than Kuroo.

"Oh," Kuroo noticed you first, golden eyes lighting up just as your daughter's head turned towards the source of curiosity, "Mum!"

She'd dashed over and you'd cradled her in your arms, your heart finally able to resume its normal beating now that you knew she was safe and sound.

You'd looked up at Kuroo then, with his ball tucked under one arm as he casually strode over to you. The words felt pathetic and useless as they tumbled out of your mouth, "I'm --thank you, for staying with her."

"It's no problem," he stopped before you, a smile dancing across the curve of his lips, "it's a good excuse to see you, I suppose."

You blinked at him, "huh?"

And then the words hit you like a truck.

Your face colored so fast even Sakura took note, tilting her head up at you as her eyebrows furrowed in concern, "mum are you okay? You're all red--"

"Oh I'm fine, just--you know, the heat--" you were glad for that excuse. Your entire chest area felt on fire, "I--uhm--It's nice to see you too, I guess--Kuroo-sensei."

It was just impossible to miss the sparkle in Kuroo's eyes and you swore you could feel the warmth from him, like a cozy blanket on a cold night wrapping around you. That was before you'd quickly excused yourself and practically bolted.

Another time you'd been late in dropping Sakura off, having slept in and barely being able to shove a few bits of toast down your throat in hopes of beating the morning traffic. Kuroo, it seemed, had been assigned to morning duty that time, and as you'd rushed through the gates with Sakura in tow, you quickly bowed to him before ushering Sakura to her class.

"Go now," you pressed a quick kiss to your daugher's forehead, "I'll see you after school okay?"

"Yes mum," and Sakura had sauntered away as you watched, breathless and chest heaving, a piece of hair stuck to your lip.

"Everything okay, Kosuke-san?"

When you turned to see Kuroo, hands in the pockets of his basketball shorts and looking all too fine with his PE jersey draped over his broad shoulders like a runaway model, your eyes flitted away with embarrassment.

"Yeah," you nodded, "morning traffic is terrible."

"I bet," Kuroo's eyes flitted down and you followed, only to make a small sound of embarrassment as you spotted two different pairs of sneakers on your feet, "someone woke up late today."

You really want to hide. Maybe duck your head in a whole. Maybe ignore him—

But you can’t, and so you can just shuffle awkwardly like a penguin, “I—was trying out a new style.”

Lame. But what else could you say?

Kuroo’s laugh bought warmth to your cheeks and before you knew it, his fingers had come up to untangle the hair stuck to your face. He pushed it back behind your ear.

“Suits you,” his voice drops to a murmur.

Every single cell in your body had exploded and you’d quickly fumbled for an excuse before rushing into your car as far away as you possibly could.

You tried your best to push him to the back of your mind, for there were a million other things to take care of. Like the divorce papers for example, which had been glaring at you from your coffee table ever since the mailman had deposited it right outside your doorstep.

You were all for signing it, but every time you mustered up the courage to, Atsumu’s words rang like an echo inside your head:

Don’t do it unless you’re getting something out of it.

It keeps eating away at you, the mixture of guilt and remorse. Not to forget the fact that you’ve been adamantly staying away every time you see Aoi’s name flashing across your screen. That all comes to an end one Friday evening when he rolls up in his car to pick up Sakura for the weekend.

Your daughter, unaware of what’s going on, is quick to stick her face to the window, “papa!”

Her shriek makes you wince. Once, this name had made your heart warm.

Now, it just hurts.

“Hey,” Aoi lets himself in with practiced ease and you turn away to stuff the remaining items in Sakura’s bag, all so that you can avoid watching the scene because it hurts a little too much.

“Papa, I’ve been playing a loooot of volleyball recently!” Sakura’s jumping around like an excited pup, “—and I even scored a point once!”

“You?” You hear Aoi chuckle and zip up Sakura’s bag a bit too harshly, “you barely have the height to reach the net!”

“It’s not the actual net Papa!” Sakura scowls then, “it’s a children’s net! Papa, you really need to come pick me up more often. You’ll understand what it looks like then!”

“Yeah you’re right Kura, maybe I should.”

Ache and longing seep through your chest. You couldn’t help not listening in when they were right in front of you, but you did your best in blocking out your ex-husband’s voice as you wrap up the last of her belongings just as Sakura’s voice belts out in surprise:

“Kuroo-sensei?!”

Huh? Your head whips up so fast that you feel the ache of it at the back of your neck. Sakura meanwhile, jumps up and down in barely restrained excitement while pointing at the window, “mum! Mum did you see?! Kuroo-sensei is here!” She turns to look at you, “Why is he here mum?”

Sure enough, the said young man stands at the doorstep, hands in his pockets and leaning against the threshold in a manner that has your heart racing.

You scramble to your feet at the same time that Aoi straightens and swivels towards the door.

Surprise flits through Kuroo’s eyes, lasting a millisecond before he’s grinning and extending a friendly hand, “hey,” he directs it towards your ex-husband, “I’m Kuroo, Sakura’s PE coach.”

“Nice to meet you,” Aoi gives his hand a deft shake and you want nothing more than to disappear, “I’m Sakura’s father.”

“Yes, I see the ressemblance,” Kuroo smiles wanly just as the said child bounds straight into his arms, “Kuroo-sensei! What are you doing here?”

You ignore the way Aoi is drilling holes into your skull. Now is definitely not the time for explanations.

What kind of explanations do you owe him anyway? It's not like he's asked for your permission before he went and played love island with some kind of bimbo you barely knew existed.

“Hey munchkin!” Kuroo sweeps her up and she shrieks in delight before settling her back down, “I’m here for your mum today.”

He is? Your eyes widen, finding his own golden irises in a silent question that Kuroo only responds with a bashful grin.

“Really? Where are you taking mum? Can I come along?” Sakura, as clueless as ever, bounces up and down in delight.

You’re quick to intervene, “Sakura, you’re spending the weekend with Papa remember? He’s been waiting all week to spend some time with you.”

“Yeah, don’t you want some time alone with your dad, kiddo?” Aoi spreads his arms, “come on! Didn’t you want to go to the zoo?!”

Sakura gasps at that, her eyes going round, “we’re going to the zoo?!” She all but squeaks.

You can’t resist smiling at her reactions, leaning down towards her before tucking her hair behind her ear, “that’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”

But her chubby hand grabs onto yours, “are you coming?”

The words pierce you and you take a small inhale. Your eyes find Aoi’s from across the room and though you know it’s not his fault, you know this isn’t something he did just on a whim, your eyes say everything you cannot: you did this to us.

Instead, you’re forced to smile down at her, smoothing one hand over the back of her head, “it’s just going to be you and papa today alright Sakura? And then I’ll see you when you get back tomorrow.”

Her face falls and something twists in your gut, “okay,” her voice is small when she answers.

But you have no choice but to let her go, watching as her father grabbed onto her hand and walked out of the door. You can’t look at Kuroo’s face, knowing that there’s probably pity written all across his features. Definitely not something that you’d want if the situation were reversed.

You’re surprised he still hasn’t high-tailed it back to his car up until now. But maybe he’s just being polite.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing that makes its way out of your mouth when you finally gather up the courage to face him.

Your eyes stay glued on a spot along his shirt, glad for his tall height as you continue muttering out, “it’s just a bad time, I didn’t know you were coming—“

“Actually I’m the one that should be sorry.”

Your eyes flit up to his, the gentleness in his voice throwing you off guard and what you find in those golden pupils make your heart flutter slightly.

Kuroo just gazes down at you with a small smile,looking a little sheepish, “I realize I just barged in when I wasn’t really welcome.”

“No—no, no! Not at all!” You lift your arms in a sign of surrender, “I’m curious though… why did you? Come, I mean. Is there—“ you hesitate slightly, “—is there something you need?”

“Well,” his smile blossomed into a grin. Pressing against the countertop, he leans forward towards you, “I wasn’t kidding when I said that I came by to see you.”

His words cause a blush to spread across your cheeks, “don’t—say things like that,” you stammer out, “people will misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what exactly?”

“What we are, our relationship,” you let out a breath and shake your head, “anyway, it doesn’t matter. So? What’d you come here for?”

“Like I said,” his eyes are golden glimmers, sparkling with mischief, “I came to see you.”

“Surely it’s not just that,” you splutter.

“More specifically I came to hang out,” he continues, “I heard there’s this new italian place that just opened up a few streets down. Since you seem free, would you like to accompany me?”

“I—uhm—“ the request is so sporadic it sends your brain into a fuzzy cloud, thoughts scattering and making no sense as you try and piece together a reason as to why you cannot make it out.

Your subconscious is begging you to go, practically kneeling on both knees and jumping up and down in excitement. Your brain though, the logical part, is pulling her hair out at the atrocity of it all.

“Fine,” is what you blurt out. Before you even realize what you’ve said. But when Kuroo gives you that million-watt smile you think that maybe it’s all kind of worth it.

———

“No way, he wouldn’t do that—“

“Oh no, he did.” Kuroo snorts into his drink. Leaning back against the parisian chair in which he’s seated as he splays his legs out before him, you fold one leg over the over, all too aware of how physically close he is. If you moved your leg any further you’re certain to brush against his knee.

A delicious, yet terrifying thought.

Kuroo chatters on with the story about Atsumu being kicked out of the boy’s dorm, “when the manager finally found him, they made him do two-hundred pushups and thirty laps around the training grounds. Was a pretty worthy sight, if you ask me.”

“That sounds exactly like what Atsumu would do,” you can’t help but roll your eyes. Trust your cousin to go through all that incessant stuff just because he’d opened his big mouth.

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” Kuroo leans back in his seat, golden eyes scanning your face as if trying to piece together his memories of whether he’d seen you or not, “you’re related to them. You should’ve popped up sometime in the picture.”

“I—“ a lump fills the back of your throat and you press your lips together, look away, “we weren't close as we were growing up. They were so--so overwhelming and I was a shy kid. Until Sakura came into the picture."

Kuroo's eyes are warm. Warmer as he keeps on gazing at you with a softness, with the kind of gentleness that makes your heart ache. He's not supposed to look at you like that. Most people will clear their throat at this point in the conversation, or turn their head away.

But he doesn't. He just keeps his eyes on you at all costs. Like you're the most important thing in this room.

You're not sure how to feel about that.

"But when they heard I was pregnant, Atsumu and Osamu were there practically every day," a small smile flickers across your face at the memories that resurface, "they took care of me a lot, especially since my parents were so angry."

You let out a small chuckle, but it's definitely far from funny. It sounds hollow even in the bustling restaurant.

Kuroo leans forward so that his arms rest atop the table, muscles bunching and tensing as he does so. Gorgeous, you think to yourself as he says, "you were alone during your pregnancy?"

"Not actually alone," the smile you show now his bitter, "I had Aoi. At the time he was a really good husband. We got married quickly, just civil, because our parents didn't approve of us keeping the baby. It was quite a shock for them. And I had my two cousins to help me out whenever Aoi wasn't there."

"That must've been hard."

"It wasn't that bad," you take a sip of your water, glad for the distraction.

Kuroo shifts, his knee brushing yours. The warmth sizzles up your leg and a knot forms in your chest. God, you really can't take this.

Almost out of impulse, you find yourself blurting out, "Kuroo-sensei, can I ask you something?"

He tilts his head to the side, a sign for you to go on.

"Why--" the words get clogged up in your throat, "why are you being nice to me?"

The last few words are said in a whisper, for fear of what he will say in return. You hide your hands in your lap to stop them from shaking, but it seems your leg takes on a life of its own as it starts jiggling up and down.

"Kosuke-san."

And that's when Kuroo's hand rests atop your knee. Barely there. Yet searing hot.

Your breath hitches.

You blink at him, heart racing.

He cracks a small, comforting smile. The kind of smile that is crooked at the corners and makes his eyes crinkle up, "you're not scared of me, are you?"

"No," you mumble out, "just scared of your answer."

You shouldn't be so comfortable with him touching you like that. It's gentle, barely there, feather light. It should be scandalous. You should be technically ripping his hand off because in any other normal setting this would count as perverse.

And yet.

Yet, his touch ignites heat that sears right through the material of your jeans. Your heart flutters at his touch and your leg freezes in mid-shake, unsure of whether to continue when his gaze makes you feel a multitude of things, things that you're not sure are good considering what happened in the past.

When Kuroo answers next, you almost swoon right out of your chair. His voice dips into a murmur, one so raw and throaty it turns your insides to mush:

"Because I think you deserve some kindness."

"So," your forehead creases as you attempt to decipher his words, "do you pity me, then?"

“No, well—maybe a little, at first,” he catches himself, cheeks suddenly blazing full pink under your gaze, “obviously, it’s hard not to sympathize when I see a single mother doing her best for her daughter.”

“Surely I’m not the only single mother in that entire school.”

“No, but you’re different,” Kuroo’s eyes fill with warmth, “and also, not all parents are as kind as you are."

"That's not really--"

“You’d be surprised,” Kuroo cuts you off with a raised brow, “don’t be so naive, Kosuke-san. People aren’t as nice as you might make them out to be,” his eyes lock on yours, “but you are.”

You look away and swallow thickly, “yeah— I suppose.”

His hand is still on your knee. One part of you wants to move away. The rational part screaming that this shouldn’t be appropriate at all. Yet another bigger part of you is squealing in delight in hopes that he never takes it off.

You don't know which part of your brain you wish to turn off and trample on until it's just an afterthought in your subconscious.

Thankfully, the waiter approaches and Kuroo's hand drops away from your skin. He insists on paying the bill despite your best efforts and even goes as far as to drive you back home in his beat-up truck.

"Thank you," you mumble as you spot your front door, void of any activity now that Sakura's at her father's. It's always like this; lonely nights, with thoughts of what-ifs trickling through the back of your brain like a never-ending stream of water that gets muddied the more time passes. You understand and are happy that she at least has a father who wants to be in her life. That's the least you could've asked for from your ex-- well, soon to be ex-husband once you sign that darned paper -- but it's the thought of the other woman that makes you sick in the stomach. Jealousy churns like an ache that spreads and knots and tightens. What if Sakura likes her stepmom better? What if the other woman gives her everything she wants, everything she needs without batting a single eyelid?

You're so caught up in your own head that you barely hear Kuroo's murmur, until he's calling out your name from the driver's seat.

You quickly spin your head towards his, a guilty smile curving across your lips, "sorry, I got lost in my head for a second," you chuckle in hopes that it will dissipate the sudden tension filling the vehicle, glancing out of your apartment complex and glad that, for once, there's a bit of light flickering in the corridors.

"Thanks for bringing me home," you tell him.

"Pleasure is all mine," Kuroo replies. His eyes are on you though, as if reading right through you.

So you quickly try to dispel his worry by saying, "I'm just going to go up and rest. It's been quite a day and--"

"Do you--" he hesitates, purses his lips in thought, "do you want me to hang out for a while? Until you're sleepy and kick me out."

You're not too certain what to do except gawk at him. Which he takes as a cue that you might've twisted his words in the wrong way. For he quickly adds in a scramble of words, "Not--Not like you're inviting me over or anything. Just--I mean, as a friend. I just--I could keep you company."

His words echo in the silence and something in your heart swells at the kind gesture. Kuroo says that you're kind, but he clearly doesn't see how much effort he does for you. And here he is, sitting there looking bashful and embarrassed about asking to keep you company. Your heart melts a little and you agree, showing him the way to the guest parking.

Just as a friend, you try to tell your heart, just as a friend. And nothing else.

-----

If someone had asked you, a few weeks ago, whether Kuroo was a fine catch. You'd probably answer yes and move on with your day.

But now, your life seems so entwined with his that you're not sure whether that's a good or a bad thing.

After your little outing a few weeks ago where he'd decided to keep you company in the dark hours until the very early morning, you'd seemed to have crossed a bridge that you cannot back-pedal no matter how hard you try. If you close your eyes, you can still imagine the vivid picture of the two of you; first at the kitchen table sharing a glass of wine as you kept babbling about random stories and tales from your childhood, before you'd finally landed on the couch playing a crazy game of Mario kart, courtesy of Aoi's mistake of having forgotten his Switch when he'd first decided to move out.

You'd never had so much fun in so long that you'd almost cried yourself to sleep that night, right after Kuroo had stumbled out of your flat. He'd blatantly refused your couch as guest room, saying that staying over would just be more of a hassle when he had early classes the next morning.

But that doesn't stop him from seeing you when he can. Nor you him. And it's become something of an addiction.

He drops by every week now whenever Sakura's gone to her father's place. These nights are spent playing scrabble, watching reruns of Harry Potter like the nerds you are, and holding conversations that run longer than you'd expect them to. It seems like routine for Kuroo to clock out around one in the morning and every time he does walk away and disappear down the corridor, something in your heart clenches at his absence.

The flat does feel a little too lonely once Kuroo's gone. But you'd never tell him that small fact.

Today he's come around a little earlier than usual, due to a special meeting between teachers and parents that the school had organised. He's busy playing house with Sakura while you're preparing the pizza base for your night in, something that you hadn't done since--well, ever since Aoi had moved out actually. But now, you're even humming to imaginary music and glancing at the living room couch where Kuroo is currently giving a full-on review about Sakura's imaginary cooking skills.

Your heart swells tenfold and you swear the sight makes you cry. It's what you crave for, it's what Aoi had done for you once, for your family. Before he'd decided that you weren't good enough and had moved on to someone else.

"--perfect combination of sweet and spicy. I think I'mma gives this Mac and cheese a perfect ten out of ten," Kuroo was saying just as the front door rang.

You went to open it, wiping your hands down the front of your jeans before unlocking the door.

The sight of Aoi always made your heart sink and your stomach churn.

But not today. Today, your heart barely acknowledges him and you think it's good progress. You even go as far as give him a smile, "hey Aoi."

"Hi Y/N," he keeps glancing behind your back and you're pretty certain why; it's the sight of Kuroo with his daughter, probably, that unnerves him.

Your suspicions are proved right when he mutters, "what's he doing here again?"

It's low, like a grumble, so that only you can hear it in this vicinity.

You straighten, "he's my friend. He's spending the evening with me today."

"Like he's been doing every week?"

"Yes," you raise a brow, prop a hand on your hip, "is that a problem?"

"I have one problem, yes," Aoi scowls back, "why is he spending time with our daughter like he deserves it?"

"Why is that a problem? Do you not let--what's her name again? Josie? Jodie? -- do you not let her play and spend time with Sakura?"

"It's Judy, and she's going to be my wife, Sakura's stepmother," Aoi hisses and you can't help but flinch, "don't you think you're just making it harder for Sakura? It's been bad enough with the divorce and everything--"

What? You chuckle and that ignites into a laugh so hollow and void of emotion that Aoi flinches, "excuse me?" the nerve of this man. Your voice hardens, "I'm the one making it harder for Sakura? Tell me Aoi, who's the one who left?"

"I left because I was unhappy--"

"So was I!" you suddenly spit out, anger rising through you. You don't care that Kuroo can hear you now. Well, you should care that Sakura's witnessing one of the many fights you will have with her father. But you can't take it. Not all this belittling.

Not when you're finally feeling something other than this overwhelming grief that plagues you and breaks you into tiny pieces every time you look at that fucking darned document.

Your knuckles shake so hard you have to tighten them into fists that you glue to your sides.

You continue, "I was unhappy and guess why? It was all because of you! Because you always had something--you barely spent time with us after Sakura was born and--and we barely talked! You didn't want to talk. Heck, you made sure to steer clear of me whenever we were in the same darned house," your voice rose with each sentence, the clench in your stomach finally unleashed after restraining it, holding it in for Sakura's sake.

"But I endured. I endured it, because we had a daughter. We had a child, and goddamn it I was responsible enough to think of her first, and not myself," you snarl, for once glad that Aoi seems at loss for words, almost panicked, "and--what? You're lecturing me about making it hard for her? About being selfish?" you snicker and spread your arms wide, "look around Aoi. You know who's responsible for this mess, and it's definitely not me."

The silence that follows your little monologue is so heavy and laden with emotion that nobody dares break it. Even Sakura has stopped talking, though you don't know what's happening behind your back, wanting to keep your eyes on that fucking bastard and end this, once and for all.

When Aoi does nothing to answer -- because what's he going to say when you're right?-- you swivel, go to retrieve the signed divorce papers atop your kitchen table you've been dutifully ignoring until now, and storm back to him.

"And here," you thrust the papers at him so suddenly he shrieks as he grapples with the folder, "you can take your damned divorce papers. I don't need them, and I don't need you."

And before Aoi can say anything else, you've slammed the door in his face.

Bang.

Silence.

You can hear a pin drop.

You're heaving, chest rattling with every breath, gaze fixated on the door.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

It's the relief that sweeps in first, through the cracks of anger that slowly melt away.

And then, realisation that nothing will ever be the same.

Then, grief.

It hits you like a truck.

Everything you've worked for. Everything you had lost.

You're not sure when your body decides to crumple to the ground, just that there are warm arms to catch you this time before a soft baritone echoes through the side of your head, through your chest and making you want to cry.

Kuroo is talking, and somewhere in-between the lines of numbness and pain you make sense that he wants to take Sakura out for a bit, just enough time for you to recollect your thoughts. You're so lost in your own thoughts that he has to repeat a question twice for you to snap to attention.

"Do you want me to stay? Or do you want me to go? Up to you, anything that makes you happy."

Kuroo is babbling, but the fact that he even asks you for what you want, for once, makes your chest ache with terrible sweetness. You don't deserve him in any shape or form.

You nod, and Kuroo takes it as a good sign, for he prompts, "what do you want me to do Y/N?"

As if on impulse, his hand pushes stray hairs away from your face. The action is gentle, kind. Almost loving.

Almost.

"Take her out," you manage to mumble, "please, Kuroo. I--I don't want her to see me like this."

"Got it." And Kuroo's off, scooping up Sakura with a playful tone, distracting her from the mess that you are huddled over in the corner of the living room as he shoves his shoes on and strides out of the flat so that all is left is you, the echo of silence that remains, and the feelings lying in the pit of your stomach.

-----

It's some time later that you hear the lock twisting in the door. You've managed to pull yourself together by then, finishing up the pizzas so that they're warm and fresh out of the oven. Sakura's footsteps echo against the wooden floor as she runs over to you.

"Mum!"

You force a smile. It comes a little easier when you see your daughter so excited, "hello, you," you coo. She slams her entire body right into your mid-section and your arm wraps around her, "how was the walk with Kuroo-sensei?"

"We saw ducks! And--And Kuroo-sensei let me play on the swings. He even pushed me so that I went up high!" Sakura's chubby finger pointed towards the ceiling to show just how high it was, and you chuckled before hugging her close. Feeling the warmth of her small body against yours is something you'll never really get over. It's like she fits and moulds right into the crevices of your broken parts to make them whole again.

Your eyes travel over to the said young man in question who's been responsible for so much of her happiness, and you soften, "thank you," you mouth to him over the kitchen counter.

He shakes his head and sends you a smile. It melts your insides, warming your tummy and instantly causing your cheeks to flush bright red.

You look away with a sharp swallow, "I've made something that looks like dinner," you propose tentatively, "if you'd like to stay."

You don't look at him as he strides over, big steps closing the gap between the front door and the dining table. He shrugs off his coat in the process, "I'm always in for food."

It would be stupid of you to think that such a normal dinner routine might make Kuroo forget all about what happened a little earlier. But it's the way his eyes search your face when he thinks you're not looking, the way the concern swims in his entire demeanour, like he's not sure whether he can completely relax yet.

Part of you is more than horrified by this turn of events. You don't want Sakura's sports coach thinking you're an unsuitable parent, nor do you want him to know about your personal matters considering he's a bit too close to home. It's embarrassing and humiliating and every time you meet his eyes by accident across the table you make sure to look away as quickly as you can.

The other, more selfish part of you, though, is suddenly relishing in the warmth that Kuroo's presence brings to the flat. And you can't help but crave for more, despite knowing this is not what's best for you and your little girl.

After all, even if Kuroo did think of you that way -- which he doesn't by the way -- he'd be tied down with a liability that's too hard to bear when it's not your own child.

Cleaning up after dinnertime in silence, Kuroo volunteers to take charge so that you can put Sakura to bed. You send him an apologetic smile, quickly going through the bedtime motions with your daughter before you can tuck her into bed.

"Mum," Sakura's voice is merely above a whisper as she cuddles into her blanket. The sight is so cute, it makes your heart swell and you resist the urge to coo, "Are you okay Mum?"

You pause, hiss in a breath.

What are you supposed to tell her?

What exactly are you supposed to say?

You manage to choke out a soft, "I'm alright."

"Is Papa okay?"

"Yes," your heart breaks a little more. You barely manage to murmur, "yes he's okay sweetie. Just--It's been a hard time."

"Why Mum?"

You don't know what to say, so you opt for pushing her hair away from her face, "well, sometimes adults face difficult decisions. And those decisions ...they hurt us. Sometimes."

"Did Papa hurt you today?"

Tears well at the corner of your eyes but you refuse to sniff, refuse to show her that you're as battered and beaten as what your heart says.

"No sweetie, he didn't--he would never hurt me, or you. Because he's your Papa and he--he loves you very much."

"Does he really?"

"Yes," you wrap your arms around her in a hug, hoping that this will dissipate all her queries, all her suspicions of her father, "yes he does. He really does love you. A lot."

From the depths of your arms, you hear your daughter's soft echo of, "okay."

It takes more than just a few minutes for Sakura to doze off. But you tuck her in gently when she does, rearranging the blankets around her frame before slowly backing out of the room. You find Kuroo still at the kitchen sink with your supposed apron around his waist, and the sight of him -- so domestic, like he's been living here all along -- makes you want to cry all over again.

"She's asleep?" Kuroo's voice causes your shoulders to jump. You nod and walk over to where he stands, taking note of the amount of dishes left.

"Thank you," you gesture towards the squeaky clean plates hanging off to dry, "it's all good now, I'll take over--"

Kuroo throws you a look and tuts, "sit down. I'm gonna make us some tea."

"But--"

"Kosuke-san," the dip between his brows deepen, "go sit down."

It's non-arguable and you let out a soft sigh of defeat as you pad over to the couch, grumbling something incoherent under your breath. Does he have to be so perfect at everything? It's almost like living in a fairytale dream.

Or is he just being nice because he wants something out of you?

A shudder suddenly makes its way up your spine and you shake your head, ridding yourself of all negative thoughts. No, he won't do that, your brain chides, he's not like that.

He's not like Aoi.

"Here."

You look up to find none other than the said man settling down beside you, nudging a cup of what seems to be hot water into your hands.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "I couldn't quite find your tea. Your place is a bit like a labyrinth."

"Yeah that's what happens when you have a toddler," you grimace, "but thank you. I do appreciate--" you hesitate, a small smile flickering across your lips, "hot water."

Kuroo chuckles, "right? It was made with love."

You sip on your hot water as a comfortable silence settles over you, with only the hum of the fridge and distant cars from afar filling the room. The weight of all your troubles are finally getting to you, making your body sluggish as it succumbs to the comforts of your pillows.

"Kuroo sensei," you bite down onto your lower lip, before your eyes flutter up to his face to find that he's already been looking at you, "I--"

"It's Kuroo," he interrupts, "we're friends, right?"

You try to bite back your smile, "yeah. I suppose," your head dips back down to your lap, "I just--I wanted to say thank you. For everything. But...especially for today."

"Kosuke-san, I think it's fair enough to say that you were having a hard time," Kuroo answered, "I just did what I thought was right. And--also, not to be that person, but he didn't have to do it in front of his daughter."

"Yeah you're right," you sigh, "well, that's Aoi for you. Selfish, self-centred, always wants what's best for himself."

There's a moment for the words to digest in the air. You sip on your hot drink, not wanting to meet Kuroo's eyes for fear of what you'll find there.

If you had any doubts about Kuroo questioning his interest for you, that had to be long gone by now. Nobody in the world wanted someone who already had baggage, and a physical baggage that would forever be a reminder of your past.

The truth hurts. It punches you straight in the gut.

You suck in a sharp breath, loathing yourself for even thinking about it. For even entertaining the idea.

But then, Kuroo asks you a question. One that instantly breaks down your walls no matter how much you fight it.

"Are you alright?"

You can't help it.

You break.

It's as if all tears once bottled up are suddenly let loose. Pressing your hands up to your face to muffle your cries, you feel Kuroo's arms wound around you again, pulling you insistently to his chest despite your best tries at resisting. But he's warm and for once in your life you don't feel like fighting, which is how you find yourself sobbing into his shirt, hands gripping it tight like he might disappear at any given moment.

All that time, Kuroo merely lets you cry, one hand smoothing over the back of your head while he presses his cheek against your temple.

"Shh," he keeps murmuring into the shell of your ear, "it's okay. It's going to be okay."

Some time later finds you in his arms, practically cuddled up to his chest and your cries reduced to mere sniffles. Kuroo has leaned back onto the couch so that you're resting against him, soft curves pressed to his firm ridges and hands absentmindedly running through your hair in a way that makes your eyes flutter with the heaviness of sleep.

It's comfortable. Too comfortable you might just fall asleep here.

Kuroo dares to peek at your face, noticing that you're staring off into space.

Your phone suddenly buzzes from your pocket, startling you out of whatever daydream you'd concocted. Quickly fishing it out of your pant pocket, you unlock the screen only to find Atsumu's message.

Atsumu: I suppose you're with Mr. Hotshot? Any chance of getting laid tonight? ;)

Your face colours right when you feel Kuroo's chest vibrate with a laugh.

You quickly whip the phone away from his view, "y--you're not supposed to read other people's texts!"

Your heart is practically cartwheeling at this point and you swear you feel sweat dot your hairline as Kuroo throws his head back with even more laughter.

You scowl at him, "what's so funny?!"

"Nothing, oh--god, nothing at all," he can't seem to control himself, shaking his head with a grin so wide it makes the sight adorable for some unknown godforsaken reason. He runs a hand over his face, trying and failing to calm down, "I just--oh man Atsumu. Do tell me more."

"Like I said, it's rude to read other people's texts," you snap.

"Oh I'm sorry, you opened it in front of my face though," Kuroo's grin is so wide that it frustrates you to no end. But before you can shove him away, his hold tightens as he pins you closer.

Your eyes widen, fluttering up to meet his golden brown pupils in surprise. He's warm, and firm, and just about as delicious as you had imagined. It makes your stomach knot, makes you slightly dizzy as you get a whiff of his deodorant--something musky, something that smells just like him.

When he speaks next, his voice has dropped two octaves.

"So how long were you going to keep it a secret from me?"

His murmur sends a chill up your spine. Your hands, not knowing what should be done with them, curl along his shirt.

Your eyes find a blank spot in the middle of his chest, "it's...not a secret. It's just a--a joke. Of some sort."

"A joke?" his smirk widens, "well share it with me too."

"It's none of your business."

"Pretty sure you made it my business by opening it in front of me."

Oh god. You can't even stop your heart from beating so loudly it's like a hummingbird. You're pretty certain Kuroo can hear it. "I--uhm--"

Your brain tries to scramble for words. But it's impossible. Not when he's so close. Definitely not when he's looking at you like that. With those eyes.

"Something tells me you've been holding out on me."

"Not at all."

You're still very adamant on averting your eyes. But his hand finds your chin, tilting it up until you have no choice but to look straight into those beautiful swirls of golden shimmering with amusement and what seems to be -- tenderness? Affection?

"Tell me," his murmur is raw, throaty. Like warm, melted chocolate.

You take a soft breath. Your chest constricts. It's impossible to breathe.

"Atsumu," you start in a shaky whisper, "he thinks--" you swallow, "he thinks that we might have... a--a thing."

"A thing?" his arm laced around your middle tightens slightly, "what makes him think we might have a thing?"

"Well I don't know, I--' god, is this supposed to be this hard? To admit that you have a small crush? You suck in air in-between your teeth as you bite the inside of your cheek, turn your head away, "I guess I talk a lot about you."

He hums in reply, "I like the sound of that."

And with another tug at your chin your eyes have no choice but to lock on his. There's a softness there in those beautiful pupils flecked with long, drawn out eyelashes.

""The sound of what?" you blink.

"Us having a thing," Kuroo's hand seems to find it fun to caress up and down your hipbone. His touch is searingly warm against your skin, "you talking about me, you blushing because of it."

"Well don't be so full of yourself," You huff out, "you're a good friend, and I'm grateful--"

"Y/N."

Woah.

You've never imagined the sound of your name falling from his lips. But here it is, laced with some kind of attentiveness, with some sort of affection that makes you weak at the knees and causes warmth to drip to your lower belly.

Your lips part. But you find you can't seem to formulate words. He continues, "I like you, not just as a friend. I think you're brave, incredibly kind, smart--"

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Kuroo frowns, "I--What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I don't know," you're starting to panic, pulling away slightly in the process, "that's what I'm asking you."

"Well I--" a small chuckle echoes past his lips, "I guess what I'm trying to do is ask you out."

"Oh." the words take a few seconds to register in your brain.

Oh.

"Oh." you repeat like an idiot. Oh shit.

He's actually serious.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

"Uhm--" your throat has suddenly gone so dry that nothing seems to come out of It no matter how hard you try.

Kuroo just lets out a small laugh before his hand goes up to push a few stray hairs out of your face, "cat got your tongue?"

"Kuroo-sens--I mean, Kuroo--" you try to stutter out through the butterflies rippling through your chest at his gentle action, "It's not that simple, I--I have a daughter. It's a responsibility. A liability. And I'm no casual dater, I'm more of a long-term relationship type of girl."

"And?"

"And there's absolutely no reason for you to like me other than as a friend, because I have baggage. I'm not a single woman, I'm on the brink of a divorce and I have a four--almost five year old -- always running around," you realise you're babbling but it's impossible not to, especially not with him looking at you like that, "trust me, that's probably the last thing you want--"

"When I say I like you," Kuroo murmurs, "I mean all of you. And that includes Sakura."

"You don't mean that, until you actually experience--"

"I do mean it."

You shake your head, "Kuroo I--"

"Can I just take you out?" There's a slight note of desperation in his tone. In a smooth motion, the hand twined around your waist slips up to your hand, thumb drawing soft circles over your wrists as his eyes pin you down with an intensity that makes you want to squirm, "just one date. That's all I ask."

Your immediate response is no. Because why would you? You're literally just getting out of a relationship. The last thing that you want is another of these holes that you'll take months to recover from. And what if Kuroo decides you're not what he wants after all? He's younger than you, dashingly handsome, and can get whoever he wants in this entire world.

So why you?

But as soon as you open your mouth to tell him no, your thoughts fly back to this afternoon; the way he'd cared for Sakura when you were having a mental breakdown, the way he'd cradled you in his arms like you were fragile porcelain, the way he hadn't hesitated the moment you'd asked for help.

Even back then, Aoi hadn't taken charge this way. Aoi hadn't even bothered. And so you'd gotten used to not asking. To do things all by yourself.

Looking back into those golden-hued eyes makes you hopeful. And that's the worst thing that can happen to you, hope. But still, it's impossible to say no when Kuroo's gazing down at you so fondly. Like you're the only thing holding his world together. like he'd do anything to be with you.

So you say yes.

155 notes · View notes

nekassvariigs · 2 years ago

Text

Intentionally calling them husband in scenarios, heres how it goes

part two

Luffy, Sabo, Katakuri, Zoro, Sanji ,Smoker, Roger, Shanks, Eustass Kid

part three will feature Robin, Whitebeard, Marco, Ben Beckmann, Franky, Brook, Mihawk.

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

Luffy

Save him please someone.

"Argh i refuse!" he'd snarl pointy teeth showing as he yells.

''But Luffy, you'd be a great husband." you protest making him only more irritated.

"I'm not marrying anyone!'' he slaps his hands on the table, steam blowing form his nose, you pout a little with this fake facade.

You walk over to the kitchen taking out a well cooked meat dish. ''Here i made something for you."

His nose is like a hounds when it comes to meat. "Wacha got there." he's already clanking forks against the table as you set it in front of him.

"If you eat this, you'll be my husband."

He completely ignores your joke, dropping forks aside he takes the food with his hands, chewing the delicious meal.

"So good! Oi Y/n ,I want more, moreee!" he'd whine not even finishing the first set his eyes sparkling wide as he looks at you.

''Oh whatever." you completely lose against him, his obliviousness compares with no one when it comes to this.

He thanks you for the food, licking his mouth from the crumbs, you show him another one.

''Shishishi" he cackles loudly and before you notice the food is long gone.

"Luffy!'' you shout watching him swallow quickly, you're left defeated.

''At least enjoy it you ape.." you wail silently watching him brisk past you.

''Maybe I should consider, aah who knows, but the food is too good.'' he speaks to himself arms behind his head and a large smile.

If you haven't ever experienced a Boa Hancock moment now you understand what it is about.

Sabo

''Isn't this a little sudden?'' he asks.

The two of you lying on the couch whilst watching a movie, not that the movie was bad but somehow Sabo started talking about random things trying to get to know a bit more of your mind until the topic game to be about marriage, you asked him what he thought about being called husband and this was his response.

"Were not getting married Sabo, it's just a question, what do you think?'' his arm pulled back a little from holding onto you , his elbow rested on the couch, hand still on your back he traced light circles.

''Well putting it this way.." he looked in thought his blonde hair falling over his eyes you couldn't help to brush it away, his gaze softly falling on you he smiled into the touch.

"I don't hate it, matter of fact, im open to it."

"Really?''

"Yeah, I mean you've called me D-"

"Ah shut up." You covered his mouth the apples of his cheeks growing as he gently bit into your palm.

You blushed a little, man this guy can be such a tease sometimes.

He pulled your hand away from his mouth, continuing.

"Well, do it." He smiled, his blue eyes flickering form the movie that flashed by beside you two.

''You're my husband." you stated shyly blinking many times as you watched him clench his heart.

"Oh this hits right in the feels." he faked pain falling over onto your lap.

You laughed at his antics, if there's anyone that can difuse the feeling of embarrassment faster its this guy. He laid back on your lap, your hand wandering lazily in his hair, you smiled at him.

His hand reached over to your cheek he pulled you forward, his nose gently rubbing against yours he pressed a lingering kiss.

Katakuri

He's a rather secluded person so you mainly hanged out around his sister, Brulee was the sweetest older sister you could ask for always offering you tea and sweets her genuine heart never wavering. You two had an ongoing joke about her brother the two of you kept codenaming him ''husband'' so your conversations would usually go with her staring a conversation like this. "So y/n, how's the husband?" she chuckled her smile lighting up the room. "He's a delight really we went shopping the other day and let me tell you how hard it is to find something that he'd even remotely hate, he loves everything! I'm starting to think it's impossible to make him mad.'' you sighed, not that you had real intentions of getting the big giant mad, you just wanted to see if he'd ever change his character, no matter how long you were at the store trying on every piece of clothing to waste time, he sat patiently the large scarf covering his mouth he always waited for you with a warm smile giving his opinions on the outfits. Brulee smirked '' He's a very kind person so even I cant see him being unsupportive."

"I know right, its like everything he does always turns out to be even better than he intended!" you flailed your arms a slight frown forming on your brows. The door peered open a rather tall figure coming through he welcomed himself in with a smile, setting some sweet buns on the table, they steamed with a gnetle delicious scent of sesame , rice and hints of familiar mango filling.

"Thank you dear." you smiled to the man as he stepped forth to take off the large scarft, his pointy teeth always caught your gaze.

you continued your conversation with brulee,katakuri sitting by your side as he bit into the sweet bun.

The two of you kept speaking about a certain husband and he for the life of him couldnt understand to who were you reffering to with such familiarity.

''Who are you two talking about?'' he chewed the sweet looking between you two.

"You.'' you quickly replied continiuing your conversation with his sister until she stopped her eyes wide as she looked at you.

You had a quizzical expression on your face and then it clicked, your face flared up red with brulee watching the sweetest smile on her face, you avoided looking at katakuri to save your life.

No need to worry, the large man was barely able to continue eating his desert, a humble red spread over his ears he pinched the bridge of his nose for the longest time. It was for the longest time he thought you were talking about someone else every time you chatted with his sister he thought you were chatting about another man you had spotted wandering onto the island. Now it made sense to him, the words repeating in his mind he groaned setting the pastry on the table, he never pictured himself to be called that , he was barely able to get used to boyfriend so you tended to switch it up very often.

You cleared your throat watching the fluster on his face , your hand reached over to take his , you were met with a comfortable squeeze.

"You two will be the death of me." he sighed a large toothy grin over his face. The two of you were left a laughing mess offering him some tea as an apology for the long confusion along with the sudden surprise.

Zoro

He asked for you to sit on his back while he was working out, you hesitated at first thinking that he's going a little too far, he reassured you there's nothing to be afraid of as he can easily sling over 100 kgs without ease.

''If you say so.." He steadied himself into a plank waiting for you to find a comfortable place over him.

"Ready?"

''Yep." you popped the p feeling your balance loose itself as you held onto waist each time he neared the ground.

You couldn't hold your amusement, he was way stronger than you imagined, your weight seemed to barely affect him as he did his push ups with ease. ''15..16..17.." you counted in your mind your but flat against his lower back.

"Have you asked anyone else to do this while you train?'' you had to know, there's no way he'd be so comfortable with a whole human on his back like this.

"Yeah, I asked," he panted between pushes, you could feel each time his body took an inhale of breath. "Luffy, but he's so light it wasn't even a challenge." sweat dripped down his forehead onto the ground before him creating a little array of a puddle.

"Anyone else?''

He took his time answering this time focusing on his form before he spoke up again, the silence was pleasant, although you were a little worried reminding yourself as you rode on his back that he was still training.

" I think I asked Usopp after that, though he wasn't better than Luffy."

He breathed a little heavier taking some time to stop between curls, to steady his breathing.

"You alright? I can hop off if it's too much." you wondered not wanting for him to collapse with extra weight on him.

"Stay, you're good." he continued with a regained sense of will, crushing through the next 50 push ups.

You grew comfortable on his back having adjusted to the rhythm.

Your hands slid lower on his waist as you lowered your back against his, your concentrated weight now laying flat over him, your head on the back on his neck, just enough so it wouldn't bother him.

He puffed heavier reaching triple digits, his muscles slowly grew sore but he pushed through with a slight sense to impress you.

''Y/n , you up there? Is Zoro with you?'' Chopper asked under the stairs you responded loudly.

''Yep, my hubby's right here!'' there was a quick silence as Zoro's eyes widened under you, not that you could see.

''Okaay! Dinners gonna be ready soon!'' he informed before walking to do help out.

The weight shifted under you, his hand held you in place, as you leaned slightly to his right, he was doing single handed push ups.

"Hey, don't you think that's a bit extreme?'' you told him, as he continued to meet ground confidently.

''Nah." His hand held comfortably on your waist a while longer until he switched sides, the name lingering in his mind. A while later he was dripping wet, you could feel your own shirt soaking in his sweat he gestured you to hop off.

''Here." you handed him some water, he turned to his side his face not meeting yours he drank, chest rising with each sip you admired his well toned back with a silent whistle.

It surprised him, the feeling of your eyes on him made him a little shy, hince the reason he refused to turn around for so long.

You walked up to him, head leaning over his shoulders to have a look at his face. He had spaced out for a bit , a blush covering his upper face you smiled in awe.

''Yeoow, Tell your hubby to move it! Foods done!" you heard Franky call for you, Zoro's face eyes twitching at the mention of this nickname.

Your smile grew wider as you poked his face.

''Were you pulling those stunts because of me?'' you smirked making his eyes open to look at you with the blush on his face still wildly present.

"No.." he spoke softly, his crossed arms unwinding he slipped one around your waist with a serious yet pleading look.

''Don't tell anyone.." you chuckled silently at his words, resting your head on his shoulder.

''Come on, food will get cold.'' he guided you to head down, following closely as everyone greeted you.

During dinner you gave him a look, mouthing the nickname again, he ate his food not saying anything, the tips of his ears were red no matter how much he tried to deny it.

He liked the nickname despite the silence.

Sanji

''Sanji, come here a moment." You ushered the sweetheart over, he waltzed towards you with his signature spin stopping behind you to peer over what you were looking for.

A bunch of jewelry, shining red white, pink and blue all sorts of jewels shined under the display lights. "What's up? Do you need money?''

''Hmm no, give me your hand." you vaguely looked at his hand, his slim fingers flexing before you, a trail of smoke winding in the air.

You offered his hand to the jeweler he took measurements of his ring finger, whilst Sanji watched, if this was an idea for a gift this was the worst way to ask for a ring size, he could of just told you if you asked.

''8.5 centimeters miss." The shop keep informed you of the size.

''Thought as much, could i see the rings over there?'' you pointed under the display, Sanji curiously watching over your shoulder like a cat.

"Of course, for gifts we suggest these as they aren't that flashy and will accentuate the hands well." He smiled pulling out a ring form its holdings handing it over to you.

You turned Sanji's hand so his palm would face you your warm hand meeting with his rather cold and meek one.

"What's wrong Sanji? Your hands are cold." you asked watching him puff smoke in the shapes of hearts, his cheeks a brisk red.

"Hm? Oh I didn't think you'd be the type to buy men jewelry.'' He watched as you slipped the ring on his finger, a slim silver band sitting low on his finger it looked rather pretty but a little too slim for him.

You took it off clasping the metal you handed over it the shop keep.

"How about this one?'' you showed to a thicker ring, the polish on it shining beautifully.

"Good choice miss." he commented handing you the ring.

You took the cigarette from Sanjis lips between your middle and pointer finger holding the ring in your thumb and ring finger you slipped it on taking a slow drag from the white wrapped cigarette.

Sanji watched with deep curiosity, he loved when you did these subtle yet intimate things, his heart beat with a deep flame as he watched you puff out a streak of grey smoke. His lower lip slightly trembling at the sight.

"What do you think?'' You spoke calmly watching him gulp as his eyes wandered to the ring, he twirled it around with his thumb checking if it wasn't going to bother him whilst he was cooking.

''It's good, won't bother me if I wear it for a long time." You smiled taking on another drag of his cigarette. A pleasant smirk laying on your features as you thought about what you're going to say next.

''This isn't typically a thing to take off Sanji." you smiled brushing a hand over his cheek, the lit cigarette dangerously close to his face, protected by your hand.

His heart dropped at the mention.

''She doesn't m-mean.." he thought to himself. Your confident yet seductive gaze at him only confirmed his thoughts, he swallowed slowly, his face plastered in a red blush, you laughed.

''Is this a prop-proposal!?'' his eyes beat out of his face he practically shouted in the most excited way.

You chuckled sweetly, the shop keep blushing at the sight of you two.

''Well take this one then" You smiled handing him money. Your gaze towards Sanji you put a hand on his shoulder whispering.

''I might as well make you a husband, dear.''

Oh boy.. the red that ripped down his nose way quite something, you handed him a hanker chief dropping the cigarette on the nearby ashtray the shop keep kept, you laced your hand with his walking out the shop Sanji followed with a light stumble every now and then walking a few steps behind you as you lead him. His head was so ready to burst with all the imagines of the two of you holding a ceremony rose petals flying and everything.

''My those two are something." the shop keep chuckled watching an overly flustered male leave with his sweetheart in hand.

Smoker

Word seemed to get around around you and the cloudy vice admiral, because of his strict work nature and your dedication people started calling you the type to be married only to two things each other and work, the two of you never met much aside from when it was time to deliver some justice, men practically fangirled when the two of you appeared fighting along each other.

''What's wrong with all of you, there's work to be done!'' Smoker shouted to his underlings as you walked beside him.

''There she is, aren't they the best.." the guys swooned as you stood hands on your hips along Smoker, his cigars burning weak smoke you offered him a light, his face leaning to the fire you provided the guys waited in anticipation for something to happen.

''Got a problem guys?'' you smiled meanly, Smoker puffing on his cigars to light them fully.

''None at all!!'' they all waved their hands with sheepish smiles.

''This is getting a little out of hand.." he looked at you smoke puffing from his face.

''You don't say." you laughed, something you did only around him according to every fanboy out there.

''Look look she's smiling again'' they blushed, a vein popping on Smokers face from this foolery.

''Go do something you idiots!" he knew the rookies had nothing better to do but it beat oogling at you two every second they could.

'' I'm going to HQ if you need something you know where to find me." with the use of his devil fruit and a long streak of smoke he disappeared from your sights.

You chuckled closing the door to his office with your body, Smokers head deep into his papers.

"It's crazy out there." you stood there hand's behind your back as you leaned on the door. Smoker hummed listening to you. ''You don't think we should do something about this?'' you walked over to his desk sitting across him, the single cigar set down in the ash tray he finally pulled his head out of the mountains of papers before him.

''Why should we? It does nothing for us." he stated slicking back his hair you squinted at the sight.

"You enjoy being my fictitious husband that much?" you smiled watching his eyes slowly running over you face, a little shit eating grin plastered on your face, you subsided it once you saw his cheeks redden a little as he resumed his smoke hiding the embarrassment.

"You're kidding right?!'' he winced closing his eyes , a hand clenching under the desk. Just dont laugh, it wasn't supposed to come off this way, but there was no better way for him to answer.

''..'' He was silent as he opened his eyes staring at you through his brows.

It was your turn to return the blush, as you laid back on the chair placing a cold towel over your forehead.

''Those brats..'' you sighed pinching the bridge of your nose you rose your head letting the towel fall to your lap.

Once his work was done he decided to treat you to some tea in the lounge, the two of you passed by a couple of marines on your way, you calmly took his hand in your watching as one spit water behind you, you turned your head looking at them with a knowing smile. Smokers eyes glancing over at your hand he picked up the pace dragging you along a bit faster, you laughed turning your face back to the blushy vice admiral.

Eustass Kid

You watched as Kid toyed around his arm, tightening bolts and sautering wires it looked surreal to just think how it operated.

"Kid what do you think about marriage." you asked him out of the blue never approaching this topic with him before. The mean look on his face grew as he barked at you. " What marriage?! It's annoying to just think about it." Whilst true he had a lot on his plate in the current situation, he wanted to beat Kaido for beating his ass so badly the dumbest of reds showed on his face as he threw some bolts at you making you hide behind a flipped table.

"Get out, you're annoying!'' He puffed slamming his fist on the table, bolts creaking on his arm as he attempted to move it.

"Look at what you did!'' You checked his arm watching smoke and sparks come from it you chuckled a bit. ''You can fix that cant you?'' you pointed at it making him growl back, ''Of course, it's gonna take a shit ton of time because of you though." he held a mean glare toward you. ''Okay okay I get it, I'm sorry." you raised your hands in defeat watching him sigh.

'' Don't stand there, you're helping out now." he waited for you to come closer bringing over all sorts of random tools with you, the two of you worked for a long while, trying to fix all the errors you caused.

As much as he kept focusing on his work, his eyes sometimes wandered to your face watching how you inspected his work. The dumb glint in your eyes as you followed his each move broke the silence.

"I guess it can't hurt.." he admitted his ears a little red.

"Hm?'' you turned to took at him while he was avoiding your gaze with a little sweat dropping down his brow.

"Nothing, pay attention." he moved your face with the back of his knuckle, your side eye stared at his preoccupied thought filled expression, with a wide smirk you pushed his hand back with your face, the longer you stared the longer he stiffened up.

"What?'' his clad orange eyes peered down on you.

You smiled not saying a word.

''You'd make the finest fucking husband." you spoke up suddenly staring right at him with a wide smirk.

He rolled his head throwing it back before he snapped at you.

"GET OUT WILL YOU." he threw an oiled cloth at you watching you scatter out of his room with haste.

Hand over his mouth he stared long at his arm, his eyes wide without a sense of reality, the embarrassed blush covering his face he could no longer work on the repairs.

Shanks

''Hubby am i right on this ?" You were bickering with Ben for the longest time, the stubborn first mate would not bend under your will even if you bribed him with millions.

Shanks turned around with a cheeky look on his face he overheard the entirety of the conversation between you two, you were in the wrong however he wanted to mess around with something else first.

"Hubby?'' he asked whipping around the bar stool one leg over the other he laid his hand behind the counter in a rather confidant way.

"Come on Shanks who's right.'' you blurted out continuing to one over Ben whos scowl only grew the longer you didn't agree with him.

He watched with a glimmer in his eyes calling out your name.

"Hubby~" he smirked watching as you processed the information.

''Argh what the hell! Yes Ben your point is right! Shanks youre dead!" you stormed forward to the captian pinching his nose.

"I call you one silly nickname and you dont leave it alone." you scolded him watching him stifle a laugh as he pushed you to his side with his only arm.

You didn't look him in the face knowing he'd give you a shit eating grin.

"Let go!'' you peeled at his hands , his grip strong as he got in your face with a whisper.

"I refuse~" the gravel in his tone, along the way he looked at you, it was only a matter of time before you shot him a glance.

You looked over at him quickly regretting that instantly.

"There you are." the sultry tone in his voice never leaving as he leaned in his lips hovering just above yours, barely a touch.

He waits for you, with a small smile tugging on his lips. He was pleasantly surprised when you tugged on his collar a rather harsh kiss deepening against his.

Roger

You brought up the topic suddenly the hearty laugh form him was as much as when you did your usual babbling with him.

"Husband, me?'' he snorted between baited breaths.

You felt a little dumb standing in front of him as he laughed his large hat tipping on his head.

'Never hurts to try something once now does it?" He showed you a warm smile once his laughter stopped, you didn't expect him to be so agreeable to something like this.

''I cant figure out if you're serious or joking." you pouted as he guided you to the end of his ship.

''If you want the world, I'll get it for you.'' he clenched his first around thin air, right along your chest as he leaned into hug your shoulder, a bewildered stare darting between his face and hand you didn't even think about the possibility.

"I can't bring you a big ceremony, but if you want the life of a wanted criminal on your hands I can't go denying yours dreams now can I?''

''Guys prepare for a celebration!'' he shouted over his shoulder, every man standing at a halt.

''Your captains getting married!'' he wasted no time jumping assumptions.

"R-Roger wait, now?!'' you pushed a hand on his chest which he took into his with a knowing look.

"No time like the present no?'' He smirked, his teeth flashing in the bright sun.

He didn't even take time to consider something like this...

''I thought it over don't be stupid." Its like he read your mind, he pointed to his crew gazing down at you.

"They're a handful, but take care of them will you?"

"Like that's new.." you chuckled, still baffled by his words.

6K notes · View notes

bookyeom · 8 months ago

Text

campfire - bsk

pairing: seungkwan x reader word count: 1.7k warnings: the tiniest mention of blood at the beginning request prompt: "What are we to each other?"

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support for my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

"I’m bleeding," you wince. You sit down on one of the rocks, turning your foot to assess the damage. A small trail of blood leads from your ankle to your pinky toe, and you let out a little whine. "Gross."

Who’s idea was it to go on a hike at 5:30am, anyway?

Yours. Right. It was your idea.

You’d thought some of your friends would join you – you’re on a week-long cottage vacation. Why would you not immerse yourself in the nature all around you? But only one person had signed up to tag along – the one you thought liked you the least. You don’t even know if you would consider him a friend.

The hike had been mostly silent, awkward even – and then, like an idiot, you’d gone and tripped.

Seungkwan wastes no time, immediately crouching down on the ground in front of you. He motions for you to put your foot up on his knee and you oblige, wincing again as you move. You can’t help but watch his face as he assesses the injury. His hair is messy from the wind, and parts of it are falling across his forehead as he leans forward. He looks kind of beautiful in this element, you have to admit. All sweaty and flushed from the exertion. You try and fail to suppress a shiver as his fingers run across your skin, and his eyes meet yours in concern.

"Did that hurt?"

You feel your cheeks heat up as you shake your head no, before breaking his gaze and looking back down at your foot. You watch as he pulls off his backpack, resisting the urge to comment on the fact that he has a first-aid kit in there (because of course he does), even though that’s what you do. You and Seungkwan are just that – two people who happen to have the same friends, and bicker over the dumbest shit. But right now, with the way he looks so soft and concerned, his lower lip between his teeth in concentration, you can’t find it in you to make a snarky comment.

You’ve been finding it harder and harder to do that lately, if you’re being honest with yourself. You don’t know when it started to happen, but the teasing between the two of you just makes you feel warm all over now, instead of irritated like it used to. You’re starting to resent the way he makes you smile.

“This will hurt.” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod, unable to find your voice as he presses a piece of peroxide-soaked cotton onto the affected area. You hiss at the pain, and his free hand gives your calf a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s not sprained,” he tells you, “but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. You should be okay to walk on it, but we should definitely head back.”

He starts packing up his bag again, and you wish that you could find something, anything to say. You know a thank you is in order, but all you can manage is, “Since when did you become an expert in sprained ankles?”

Seungkwan snorts, but he doesn’t so much as flinch while he continues to put his things back in his bag. “Being the captain of the volleyball team has its perks, I guess.”

“And co-captain of the badminton and table tennis teams.”

That makes him look up. His eyes are wide in surprise, and you try to ignore how flushed you’ve suddenly become under his gaze. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I didn’t know you even knew that about me.”

You can’t help the defense that shoots back up as you retort, “What do you mean? It’s all you talk about. We get it, you’re sporty.”

“Right.” His lack of response to your quip has you flustered. He simply hums, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. “Can you walk on your own?”

You feel stupid all of a sudden. “I think so,” you respond, dejected by the weird energy between the two of you, and you can feel Seungkwan’s eyes on you as you stand, testing the weight on your foot. “I’m good, just go slow.”

You don’t talk to Seungkwan for the rest of the afternoon. He disappears when you make it back to the house, and all you get from him over lunch are some smiles and a giggle when you guffaw at Mingyu tripping on his own shoes. You spend the afternoon hanging out with Vernon and Seungcheol in the library, ankle propped up as you read in silence.

A campfire is on the agenda for dinner, and you're told to sit back and relax as things are brought out from the cottage. You’re entertained from your seat by Seokmin and Mingyu as they begin cooking, and the rest of your group comes out one by one. The sun is beginning to set, and the sky is a beautiful array of blues, pinks and purples when Seungkwan sits in the chair next to you.

“How’s the ankle?”

“It’s fine,” you manage, and he nods. He settles in, eyes on the fire, and you can’t help but gawk at him. He chose to sit next to you?

The evening passes without much more chatter between the two of you. Your other friends are entertaining as always, and the time slips away peacefully until Jeonghan announces his early retirement, and others begin to follow suit. The fire is dwindling when Chan, Soonyoung and Seokmin announce that they’re headed in, leaving just you and Seungkwan, and you’re about to ask Seokmin to help you back to the house when Seungkwan interjects.

“I’ll help them.”

You flush at the chorus of oohs and ahhs that echo through the remaining group, but Seungkwan doesn’t even flinch, already maneuvering his chair in front of yours.

“Come on,” he pats his thigh, “let me see.”

“Seungkwan…”

He hums, focused on the task at hand. It’s quiet now as he stops fidgeting with the bandage, moving instead to gently massage the sore area around the wound. His touch is gentle but firm, and you feel electricity shoot through you. You’re holding your breath, and you feel a little dizzy; there are goosebumps on your leg from where he’s touching you. It’s not cold out, so you know you can’t blame it on that. It’s quiet, and all you can hear are the murmurs and occasional laughter of your friends in the distance, and the dying fire.

“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out harsher than you mean for it to, and you wince.

Seungkwan looks up at that, his fingers stilling on your skin. He’s silent for a moment, processing. “What, helping you?” He sounds incredulous, and you shrink a little bit back into yourself. He begins to gently press his fingers into the muscle of your ankle again, his eyes falling back to his work as he adds, “Didn't know you thought so lowly of me.”

“It’s not as if you like me either, Seungkwan.” You wish you could pull your ankle away from him without it hurting, wish you could find a way to hide from whatever this conversation is about to be — but you can’t.

Seungkwan shakes his head, the disbelieving huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he does. “Unbelievable.”

You cross your arms, defensive. “What?”

Despite being obviously annoyed, Seungkwan is gentle as he sets your foot back on the ground. “Nothing. Just let me help you back to the house, alright?”

You stare at him in disbelief as he stands, moving his chair back to its place before he holds out an arm to you. “No. What? You’ve got to be kidding me, Seungkwan.”

He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight as looks away from you and mutters, “Fine. Get back to the house on your own.”

“That’s not…” You fight back the sudden urge to cry, blinking rapidly. “Seungkwan.”

Something in your voice makes him turn back to you, and now his own arms are crossed in defense. “What, Y/N?”

“I…” You don’t even know what you mean to say, really, and it takes a moment before you whisper softly, “What are we to each other?”

You can tell he’s surprised by your question. His eyes widen as he straightens. “I… I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “But I can’t figure out why you don’t like me.”

His admittance lingers in the air around you, and your mouth falls open as you process. “Do you like me?”

Seungkwan’s hand lifts to run over his face as he sits back in his chair. He’s embarrassed, you realize, and your heart stutters over itself in your chest. “I mean, yeah, but I just meant — you think that I hate you or something, but I don’t, even though you don’t like me —“

“I like you,” you blurt out, cutting him off before he can ramble any further. “I thought that you didn’t like me because you’re always so competitive and want to beat me at everything, and you never seem excited to see me or try to talk to me at parties, so I just… gave up on trying to make you like me.”

Seungkwan lets out a whine. “You intimidate me! You’re good at everything and yes, I’m competitive, but you’re an equal match and that’s so hot. But I thought you didn’t like me, so I didn’t try, either.”

“Oh my god,” you say after a moment.

You stare at one another in the dim firelight for a moment. And then you both begin to giggle.

“Are we going to ignore that you called me hot?”

Seungkwan stumbles a bit, the arm he has slung around your shoulders tripping you up a little bit too, but he quickly catches himself. You bite back a smile. “Yes. Yes we are.”

“Why? I think you’re hot, too.”

Seungkwan fully stops the two of you now, turning to you with an exaggerated pout. You can just make out his features in the light from the cabin up ahead, and he looks so cute you could cry. “Don’t tease me,” he whines.

“I’m serious,” you tell him honestly. He looks away, but you can see the shy smile that’s formed on his face.

“Fine,” he says as he begins to walk again. “We can talk more about that inside.”

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