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#the year just started and he's already serving
dollywheeler · 2 days
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October 23th, 1996
Dear diary,
Let’s see - the last few days have kind of been a blur.
I don’t think I did anything particularly interesting, just following my routine - same old same old. I had to spend all of Sunday catching up on my homework, so nothing special happened there. Mike let me take his old guitar home, though, and the reading for English class is going a lot better now I can alternate chapters of Walden with a moment of playing music. My Oasis tape has been running non-stop.
Cheer practice is going fine - the routines are a bit easier now so I’m having less trouble. I try to practice the harder ones as often as possible, but I still haven’t found a solution for practicing the jumps on my own.
Oh! I almost forgot - On Sunday, I watched Dracula! Danny recommended it and I wanted to watch something while finishing my homework. It was too good - I had to pause it and rush to finish my homework so I could watch it properly; This is exactly why I usually play something I’ve already seen.
I wish we could have watched it together though, but we’ve both been so busy we’ve barely had the chance to spend time together. Whenever he doesn’t have basketbal practice, I have cheer or babysitting, or he has to work at the diner. Mrs. Benson is doing a lot better, at least, so I don’t have to go over as often. Danny joins us for lunch most days, though, and I try to come to the diner as much as possible - it’s nice, just being able to talk to him, even if it’s in snippets between him serving the other customers. Christy doesn’t seem to mind it too much, either, as long as Danny doesn’t leave anyone waiting for too long.
Still, I hope we can go on an actual date again soon.
Mom already hinted at having him over for dinner and I’m… Not sure how to feel about that.
I mean, Danny’s great and I’m sure Dad will like him - I already know mom does because she can’t stop raving about our homecoming pictures. She went to pick them up from the developer on Monday and though I do look terrible in a lot of them, there’s some really cool pictures as well - ANYWAY, what I was trying to say (write? Whatever) was that it feels weird to have him over for dinner with the family.
I was too young to remember the first time Jonathan joined us for dinner - if he ever did before they both went off to college - so it’s not like I can look to my older sister for an example.
Lord knows Mike never brought a girl home.
What I’m trying to say is - I have no idea how Mom and Dad are gong to act. Especially dad - there’s a big enough gap between me and Nancy that I’m sure dad is going to have to get used to his daughter dating all over again.
I might call Nancy and ask for advice - if she has the time, of course. She’s so busy lately running all over the place. When I called on Saturday she said they’d be coming back to the US on Tuesday, but it wouldn’t be the first time their stay got extended. I’ll probably just wait on her to call over the weekend, just in case.
I don’t know what else to write about really, but I’m at the diner and a table in the back is staring at me. I don’t know why - I know their faces but not their names. Pretty sure one used to be the school’s librarian before he retired a few years ago. I see him and the woman he’s talking to around town sometimes, walking dogs, or here at the diner drinking coffee and gossiping as they are now. Most residents always follow everything going on around them, and I’m sure they recognise me in turn from seeing me around one too many times, but today I swear they’ve been looking at me specifically for way too long.
So, I took out my diary and started writing so it seems like I’m not bothered and can’t hear what they’re saying.
It’s strangely unsettling. I don’t know - they seem judgemental, and I feel judged, though for the life of me I can’t figure out why. I’m not doing anything different. I don’t look anything different - I’m not wearing anything special. Sure, I’ve been talking to Danny a lot because it’s so calm today, but it’s not like we’re being particularly loud.
Pretty sure I just heard them say “the Byers kid” - which is strange, because a, I’m not a Byers, and b, I’m not my brother - hell, we don’t even look alike.
I didn’t even realise they knew who I was, let alone who my brother’s friends are. Anyway, it’s weird how hung-up they are about Mike and Will’s return to Hawkins - I mean, it’s been more than two months, and they were only gone for - what? Seven? Ish? Years? I don’t even know.
I guess that’s the one downfall from living in a small town.
Most of the time it’s an advantage - like havig to go to the post office during the summer and getting to chat with Dylan while she works, or feeling completely at home in a diner because you know every face there. It’s nice knowing your neighbours and your neighbour’s neighbours in turn.
Like last week, with Mrs. Benson, I heard soooo many stories about the people around town. And sure, it’s gossip which isn’t always nice, but more often than not it’s just keeping everyone updated. It’s how we all show we care - how else would Mom know who’s in desperate need of a casserole or a plate of cookies?
That sounds like a hyperbole or whatever - Mike would probably know the perfect term - but it’s more relevant than one might think.
Plenty people don’t know to ask for help - like Mrs. Benson - and they’re just waiting on people to offer it.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from mom, is that more often than not overbearing is just bearing enough.
Anyway, Daniel and his mom are new to town too, but no one’s talking about that anymore either. Now I think about it, it is weird that people seem more hung-up about them than Danny. I mean, Danny and his mom are total outsiders - even if they only came from a few towns over - but at least Mike and Will are known strangers. They came back, which isn’t unheard of.
Mr. Howard, our PE teacher, for example, moved back in his thirties to take care of his ailing father. His father is still kicking around, by the by, even though he’s been back for almost twenty years now. Anyway, even though he’d been gone for seventeen years, everyone acted like he’d simply never left.
Max’ mom, on the other hand, still often gets reminded that she’s not from here, though it’s less obvious because the residents of the trailer park are used to people coming and going more than Suburbians, and also because she at least was here for ’86.
Now I think about it, it’s bothering me more and more.
I’ve always felt like I’m missing something - it’s often clear mom and Mike are talking around me - but I always just assumed it’s them being weird about Mike’s degree. That’s the one thing dad brings up sometimes when it’s about Mike, right before mom sends him a warning glare with pointed eyes at me. I don’t know - I get dad wanted us to do something practical, or at least, Mike, because dad has plenty of opinions on Nancy’s career as well. But he’s from a previous time, and honestly why Nancy wants to work so bad, I don’t understand.
Anyway, this took a turn.
I really keep getting carried away with these things.
The people are still there, but they seemed to have moved on conversationally, and it’s about time I head home anyway. I’m just going to say goodbye to Daniel and get going so I’m back in time for dinner.
Love, Holly
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Maybe a husband di/id leon x reader one shot?
Or two...or multiple? Idk whatever you are comfortable with also make it smutty if you like, i know everyone is so hung up on RE4r leon but older leon is SOOO husband material and i'm so down bad for him!
flame that never dies
just starting with one for now however if anyone would like to see more let me know. older leon >. nsfw under the cut, mdni. not proofread and credit to image owner. also unprotected and afab reader.
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you and leon had been together since your twenties, going through so much together. he often worried that after being together for so long that flame between the two of you would dwindle and die.
yet it never did, he had just gotten back from business on alcatraz island, you knew better than to ask him what exactly happened. you were just glad your husband had made it back to you alive, in one piece.
you were all over him as soon as he had gotten cleaned up, pressing soft kisses along his jaw. your hands glided around his body, his once hard muscles are softer now. he would be lying if it wasn't an insecurity as his body aged but how he never failed to leave you dripping wet helped him that.
"missed me that much, huh?" he says, his tone is teasing as he captures your lips with his. you pulled away, brushing his hair out of his face as you stared into his blue eyes.
his hair wasn't quite the blonde it used to be and his face had aged over the years but so had yours. the eye bags under his eye serving as a reminder to you just how hard he worked, he could only ever sleep when he was home with you.
you smiled at him, your gaze filled with love. it gave him butterflies, just like when you two had first started dating. he pulled you back in for a kiss as he flipped you on the bed.
you were under him, your legs wrapped around his waist. you could feel him getting hard against your crotch. you loved knowing you still had that effect after all of these years. he pulled away from you.
"god i love you," he spoke out, his lips were soon connected to the soft skin of your neck. his lips sucked in-between soft bites resulting in a small mark. he soon kissed over it before moving down.
his hands were working under your shirt, his hands cupping your boobs. he'd squeeze and knead at them as he continued to leave marks all over.
your shirt was soon thrown to the floor, he moved slower compared to his pace when he was younger. he just needed to appreciate every inch of you.
his mouth was on your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive nubs. you can feel him smirk against you when you gasp out from the sensation, your head dropping back with a soft moan. it doesn't take long for him to give attention to your other nipple all the while his hands start to unbutton your pants, slipping down to feel the wet spot on your panties.
you were completely in love with leon, your hips bucking up against his crotch. he released a groan from it, he decided to pull away and tug your pants down. your underwear is gone with them and he's soon naked as well.
he's already positioned between your legs. his tip slowly sliding into your wet hole. you moaned out as he slid in, bottoming out quickly. he gave you a brief moment to adjust before he slowly started to rock his hips.
his thrusts were slow and deep, leon couldn't last as long but he still wanted to savor the moment. you were moaning from under him as you pulled him on for a kiss. his lips slammed against yours as your hands wrapped around his neck. his grip on your hip was gentle, he couldn't stand to hurt you.
as the two of you got closer, his pace increased. you were left falling apart on his cock, pulling away to meet his gaze as your hand pulled his hair. he moaned at the sensation of you clenching around him and you could feel him twitch against you.
leon's lips captured yours once again as his hand finds your clit, playing with the bundle of nerves to send you over the edge. you're quick to cum, squeezing around him as your back arches.
he's soon spilling inside of you, cursing as it happened. with a few more thrusts he pulled out, collapsing next to you as he pulls you close. he kisses you more, it's a soft moment between the two as his hand cups your face. his thumb is stroking your cheek as you pull away.
you stare up at him, giggling slightly at how in love you feel.
"you know mr kennedy, i hope you never stop kissing me," you say, your tone is unserious as your hand rests on his shoulder.
he chuckles at your response.
"well mrs kennedy, i have no intent to stop kissing you," with that his lips are back on yours as you melt into his warm touch.
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murfpersonalblog · 2 days
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IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - Loumand (Spoilers)
This was so effed up, wow; I'm FURIOUS with Armand, even though I've been expecting this from him since Season 1. Cuz the ish he said just never lined up right; the most unreliable narrator's been Armand the whole time! Louis' brain is scrambled, but at least he's SINCERE. But THIS mofo has been deliberately LYING since JUMP.
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Longest divorce proceedings ever--took 77 years, dang. Armand said it was the night Madeleine was turned--Mr. They Gave Me A Choice. I Chose. But that's a effing lie, too!
Cuz in Ep6, BEFORE Louis even told Armand he was gonna turn Madz, Santiago was busy committing all those "strange crimes reported;" climbing the Eiffel Tower to wake up Lestat, and breaking into cinemas to steal their color film reels for the Trial's projector.
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They threw Sam under the bus as if HE wrote effed up Trial script--but THIS was when they actually started writing it--with ARMAND's input & direction.
But I'm jumping ahead.
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WTF is going on here?! O_O Is this a human the Theatre keeps around for the plays, zoned out so they stay alive until they're on stage? So Armand's punishment is the shame of having to feed the "cattle"? And HOW MANY nights was Lou in there? :(
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Louis was locked up for over a MONTH!? 😨 While Armand just SAT THERE?!
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Lou's not screaming from starvation, MORON--he starved himself for YEARS. His DAUGHTER is DEAD.
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The frame of Paul is wild--Louis was ready to end it all. U_U He didn't want to be "rescued"--he wanted his baby girl back. "What was left to endure for?"
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Man's a consummate actor--everything you're about to see is FAKE.
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A "sacrifice" for the "god" Armand serves, eh? (AMC got my guy out here sucking on rocks, omg. XD I hope they taste like chips or popcorn or something.)
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Louis CONSTANTLY shushing people on this show, I love it!
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LIES. Lou's WAY too good for Armand; I'd've been like SURPRISE! 🔥 "My rage and madness were asleep--" chile. You loved Armand, and thought he'd cared enough to save you, which is why you were able to swallow that weak AF I Could Not Prevent It excuse from a 500 yr old vamp.
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Daniel is on the hunt! I LOVE how they're introducing Raglan like he's just some kindly ole assistant/researcher/editor. Honey, you've got a big storm coming! "Reciprocation"--Daniel's a vampire now, so you KNOW Raglan's gonna start cashing in them I-O-Us from Dan! 💀
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77 years later.... 😬
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200 years is a mighty long time to maintain a relationship built on death threats, power imbalances, and lies.
Lestat was right--even 77 years was a effing miracle--extra time bought at the price of Louis' memories being oh-so-conveniently erased.
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THEY rehearsed it--LIE. There Armand goes, deflecting culpability.
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Louis sleeping in Claudia's coffin, stop, my feels. U_U
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Omfg Armand; of COURSE you don't remember the last thing y'all said to e/o in Paris b4 y'all left Lestat to travel Egypt--but you can "remember" alllll this other bullcrap, eh?
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So they've already done Trinity Gate?
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BY ALL MEANS. EXPOSE THEM.
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Not Sam being in Daftpunk, y'all need to stop IMMEDIATELY. (But now I know wtf was going on in the Season 3 announcement--I was so confused why they were mentioning Sam!)
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ARMAND told the coven to let the audience read Claudia's diaries and VIOLATE her body (of work), omfg 😱
Mr Frankenstein disrespected her at EVERY turn!
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I could forgive spitting over "Come to Me" and how Loustat met in NOLA, but I draw the line at spitting at adding the animation of Lestat killing that dear sweet racoon! XD
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Armand had the NERVE to look away when they bum-rushed Claudia & Louis with the Mind Gift.
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"It's their turn to hurt--" ARMAND said he didn't think Louis would love him for 200 years, so he SOLD THEM TF OUT--to DIE.
They were HOBBLING AROUND WITH GASHED ANKLES, LAUGHED at, and stuffed in RAT BOXES! And ARMAND was in on the whole thing!
This is WILD, AMC, y'all are sick for this, but I love it!
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Is DANIEL using Armand's "slave name" and abusing him, y'all? HUH? It's all BULLCRAP--Armand's BEEN in control, with all the real power the WHOLE. EFFING. TIME.
EFF what you call him, or whatever kinky ROLES he PLAYS.
ARMAND decides who lives and dies, as THE coven master--eff who's called Maitre!
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Armand was gonna let Lou DIE. "He just took credit for it when the opportunity presented itself." Wow.
He let Louis suffer in that crypt for over a MONTH before he FINALLY had a change of hear/conscience and pulled him out!
And even then he wasn't gonna go WITH Louis--he expected Louis to flee Paris! ALONE.
He stayed with Louis cuz Louis destroyed his whole effing coven! Who else did Armand HAVE but Louis after that? HE CHOSE THE COVEN.
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Poor dear; he wasn't held enough between ritualistic fledgling executions. 🙄😒 "We are teachers of one another! Louis, everything that gives you happiness gives me...." WHAT? What does it give you, Armand? (I cannot WAIT for S3 to do more DM, cuz I've been HATING Armand connected in any way to Louis & Claudia. I don't like not liking Armand; he's my fave book character! But AMC's bound & determined to make me spit every time he starts talking.)
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Excellent grounds to get the house, the dog, the Farm, Damek, AND Rashid in the divorce! XD
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And this gremlin's got the audacity to STILL be lying, even when caught LITERALLY red-handed with his notes to Santiago in the effing margins--meanwhile CLAUDIA was CONDEMNED TO DEATH for premeditating Lestat's death in HER written diaries--which ARMAND had passed around like candy at his carnival of horrors!
"An insignificant detail delivered by an insignificant mortal"--Rolin must hate Armand, he's not giving this dude an INCH. XD And SAM delivered it, not Daniel. SAM snitched on the coven. (WHEN?! And WHY?)
I don't like the whole "you should fear the other one--" only for Raglan to be like SOS GET OUT OF THERE NOW. Didn't Raglan know Armand was lying his arse off? Or was it misdirection--fear Louis' retribution when he busts a cap in Armand's lying arse?
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DanLou nation RISE! ^0^
This was beautiful; I'm so happy for them. They started off TERRIBLY, but look at that bond just blossom like a magnolia tree Armand tried to clip and prune and graft and manipulate--only for it to flourish wild and free!
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yeonjune · 1 year
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(230102) KROSS vol.1-kpop masterz- ©yazawa__ce
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flowerflamestars · 9 months
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Effloresce Snippet
He kissed both her cheeks, bending even lower to raise Nesta’s right hand, pressing her cold knuckles to his brow in solemn salute. “Nesta Archeron,” Jurian said, like her name was twice its length, a foreign weighted history, “You ready to know whose blood runs in your veins?” Nesta, who had lived this particular conversation thrice over now, only shook her head. Touched between his brows in curious, only half-understood benediction, allowing him to step away. “Jurian. You survived the fires.” His smile was only in his eyes, rainwater grey searingly bright. “You wouldn’t waste time sending messages to corpses.” Nadia, from where she’d stopped three swaggering paces into the room, shedding her coat and swords with utterly false carelessness, huffed out a rough laugh. It was a bizarre comfort to see her, unchanged- strong brown hands dense with tattoos that bloomed into looser patterns up her arms, those knives and that hideous leather vest, remnants of a life that seemed nearly simple, now. So very far away. She cast a scathing look at Nesta’s guard, the Illyrian busy visibly wishing murder upon Jurian, his entire focus held on the distance between their bodies. “Protection has gotten more interesting,” she said, tone blithe, “Where’s your Vanserra?” “Honeymoon.” Nesta let herself lean back onto the desk, hand behind her body biting into its ash lip. Dawn, Winter, reconnaissance. Elain walking underhill in mortal wedding pearls, Lucien at her back. A heaved sigh, Jurian’s head oh so briefly dipped. “Wars and weddings, my lady. Blessings.” “When you were our age, humans couldn’t marry.” “Nor does he believe in any damned gods,” Nadia crossed the room fae quick, expression wicked as the guard flinched, stopping right alongside Nesta. A test, twofold- Nesta didn’t pull a knife as Nadia had once taught her, the legionnaire didn’t start in on violence without orders. “Don’t believe the prayers, unless they’re bloody.”
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chisatowo · 2 years
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Gm I forgot to take my melatonin supplements last night and as a consequence I now have deep backstory hcs for deep cut. And by that I mean for Shiver, Frye and Big man had pretty normal lives fkgndjd
#rat rambles#splat posting#I rly rly dont like ex octarian soldier shiver hcs but I think it could be interesting for them to still be from octo valley#without going too deep into my worldbuilding hcs I imagine that their family sort of split up turing the great turf war#so some of them were pushed into the underground like the rest of the octarians while some found shelter with the other two hero families#I just cant imagine that literally all octarians were forced underground to begin with and I feel like its especially possible for such a#culterally relevant family to be able to find some allies willing to help them wait out the worst of things#I also just feel like its implied that octarians have like been around in greater inkling society before octo expansion#and I dont just mean ppl like marina I mean octarians that have potentially always lived outside the underground#like that diss pair octoling I feel like at most his parents would have had to left before he could remember#I just feel like it would make logical sense for octolings and tbh octarians as a whole to not have literally all been shoved underground#anyways back to shiver long story short they were put under a lot of pressure to be the most flawless at not only shark taming and stuff#but also as a political figure since I imagine the half that went underground probably have to serve a pretty strong political role#but I also imagine the two halves have some contact but its become more strained over the years as the two picked up different ideals#but yeah after shiver learned of the other half and started to also crack under the pressure they were like yknow what fuck this#so at around 13 he snuck out along with master mega which was a troublesome ordiel but didnt draw enough attention to go too badly#and they showed up to the town the rest of their family lived in and they were like holy cow kid ur so good with that shark already woa#and they accepted them without much difficulty leaving shiver to relax and by relax I mean imedietely explode from the change in emviorment#and then abt a year later big man and frye came to crash on their couch leaving to them initially being the grumpy old man of the trio but#eventually the other two help them realise that being stupid is fun so they throw away their braincells#well more like big man has a whole character arc abt independance and such and then helps shiver learn to loosen up s biy#while frye is sitting in a corner being a nerd and trying to learn shiver's dialect of octarian since theyve only ever heard the outer#version from this half of shiver's family#and shiver is having to learn like 50 different laguages gjfbdjf#but yeah I hc that frye has a big interest in linguistics which is why even though frye and big man used to only interact for like a week#each year frye still went out of her way to becomr fluent in understanding big man's language#but like on a deeper level too since I imagine most in the greatwe world at large probably have to learn at least 2 or 3 laguages in their#lifetime thanks to the wide variety of animals theyre having to commune with on a day to day basis#god I am getting off track as shit why do I have to base so much of my hcs on even more worldbuilding hcs fhdjdhj#aaand now Im out of tags shit just know they all have character arcs and shit then move to splatsvile ok by
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isaacathom · 1 month
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me, holding my primary ttrpg oc in my hands: im giving you so mcuh family trauma :)
#her red ribbon is a gift from her dad that relates to a paternal grandmother she never met#her engagement ring was inherited from her maternal grandmother and served the same function there#as part of a marriage to a man naielle has also never met#her jacket is part of an elaborate prank with her twin brother that she carries with her in foreign lands#as a reminder that she's him and he's her and theyre two parts of a pair even if she's entire planes away#in the time shes been away her older sister has been married and has a daughter#and naielle has never met her niece. might NEVER meet her niece.#if she waits out a collapse like she had originally planned she also may never meet her brother-in-law - a human man#he's already 30. if she's lucky she has like 50 years to try and meet him. if he's lucky. he's currently fighting in the army#and naielle knows that! her older sister and brother in law and her twin brother and her wife currently raise arms in a pitched conflict#hell her younger sister was too. now she's been forcibly conscripted into a different battle by NAIELLE#naielle did that! she brought her sister into her bullshit! it eats her alive to know that#that her family at home fights to the death and she marches her own sister towards a different precipice#its fucking bonkers#uh and i guess her younger brother exists too. listen naielle and yivien dont get along and its not even interesting#whereas naielle and mariela were briefly fully at each others throat. yiviens a coward.#if naielle went home as she is now and yivien started a fight naielle would just deck him. i think he needs that#hes not even babied that much hes just kind of an insulated brat. gotta swirlie that boy#i mean this stuff might not be trauma but it is DRAMA and naielle is full with it#all these regrets and connections to family who may not even love her (anymore)#she carries her family with her into a battle they don't know about and can't understand#unless mariela's letter back home was uh. particularly compelling. naielle doesnt know about all that
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fuckyeahisawthat · 4 months
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Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.
We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.
I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.
But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.
Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.
And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.
It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.
It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.
And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.
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rhosgobelbun · 6 days
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steve's been knocking on doors trying to find eddie. he would be annoyed that all he's found are couples and groups in states of undress but this is some random house party, so it's what steve expects.
plus he's too relieved that he hasn't walked in on eddie being a part of any of it.
steve knows it's gross to feel this way. he trusts eddie 100%. it's not right to let past relationship problems cloud his judgement when it comes to what he has with eddie - who hasn't given him any reason to doubt.
but eddie is so new. been together for only 2 months now new.
and tommy was so old. childhood friend/fucked up situationship for 10 long years old. just ended for good a year and a half ago old.
so even though he knows, hopes, prays, that it's ridiculous to compare the two together, steve still checks the bathroom and makes sure the man on his knees in front of some blonde cheerleader isn't his boyfriend.
and then promptly ducks down to avoid a brush the blonde cheerleader throws at him.
'sorry!' steve apologizes. he hurries to slam the door closed and makes his way to the very last room at the end of the hallway.
maybe he left? eddie didn't want to serve here anyway, rich druggie clientele be damned. so even though they came together, maybe eddie had an emergency and-
steve cuts that thought off because well. he found eddie.
'baby!!' his boyfriend exclaims, alone, sitting on the floor in the middle of some random strangers room with a jar of peanut butter. he's got a spoon full of it half way up to his mouth and his eyes are red.
at least 4 brownies deep red.
the wave of relief he feels is actually pretty concerning, but steve will think about that some other time since he's too busy trying not to laugh at how ridiculous the long haird idiot looks.
'eddie, what are you doing?'
eddie looks guilty and for a split second steve thinks maybe he did walk in on eddie with someone else. (maybe he's waiting on them? maybe they already left?)
then eddie holds up the jar of peanut butter and says in the saddest voice, 'i needed it stevie, i don't remember how long it's been since i've had peanut butter. but i didn't think you'd find me! stay back! don't you come any closer!'
so this whole time while steve's been worried that eddie was off doing what tommy used to do to make him jealous, eddie just snuck off and hid away to eat peanut butter because steves' allergic.
starting to snicker, steve goes to sit across from him. 'i can be around it babe, im not gonna die.'
eddie rushes to close the jar, spoon shoved inside and all. he gives steve the stink eye. 'i know what peanut allergies can do to some people. i refuse to watch you blow up like a tomato.'
steve rolls his eyes and reaches out, acting like he's gonna touch the jar.
eddie yells. jumping to his feet, he scurries out of the closet like an over grown rat, 'steve harrington this is exactly why I was trying to eat this away from you!'
steves laughing now, giggling like a hyena. he can't believe he ever doubted this man.
later that night - after eddie has showered and brushed his teeth at least three times - when they're tucked away in eddies room under the covers, steve talks to him about his freak out. eddie apologizes for leaving him alone at a strangers party like that. he holds him close, gives steve a ton of kisses and promises to create a DND character that represents tommy.
'i'll turn him into a toad and kill him off in the most gruesome way imaginable. he'll be murdered to death, the kids will be traumatized. it'll be great. just you wait and see, my love.'
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neil-gaiman · 7 days
Note
hi neil. i've held off on writing this message for a bit because i didn't know if i could get it out or not.
i work in a senior healthcare facility. not a nurse or anything, i actually just serve food to the residents, but it's given me the ability to get to know a lot of the people that live there. because of this, i was able to befriend a wonderful lady named sally. she would always come talk to me while i served up the meals, and we'd have nice chats. she spent most of her time reading books, since she didn't like to do many of the activities with the other residents, and since she loved books with mystery and suspense, i loaned her my copy of american gods, thinking that she'd enjoy it. and she did! i loved it when she'd come talk to me about the chapter she'd just read, our little chats about wednesday, just everything. i was happy that she liked the book.
our chats kind of tapered off after awhile, and we didn't talk as much. she's had my book for well over a year now, which i hadn't minded, but she eventually started picking up our chats again, about the book. but she was talking about how she had just started reading it and that she was really interested in it so far. i came to realize some time later that sally was actually just finally showing signs of dementia, which was saddening for me to hear, but it's one of the heavy realities of working in a facility like this. she had always struggled with some memory and speech issues, but i'd always chalked it up to her older age.
anyway. i am saddened by this onset, but at the same time, i am also finding some strange comfort in knowing that she will come up to me at breakfast, wanting to talk to me about american gods, because she's forgotten that she's already read most of it, and she just reads the first few chapters over and over. she doesn't leave her room without it, she brings it to the table with her every day. when she leaves the facility with her family for an outing, she brings it with her. i am just. so comforted knowing that your book i loaned her a year ago is a source of joy and delight for her, and continues to be so over and over. i know i'll never get that book back, and i won't ever try to get it back from her, even if she stops reading it. i want her to keep it.
i now have a streak regarding losing my books that you've written, i'm two for two now, haha
idk. i'm just really kind of overwhelmed today by all the emotions surrounding it and i'm just happy that you wrote something that she likes so much, and that we talk about it even though she doesn't remember that we've talked about it a dozen times before. i love each and every chat with her so much, and i want to keep having them with her for as long as i can. thank you for your work.
Some of the happiest hours of my life were spent with a friend with advanced Parkinson's dementia, sitting on his porch with him, both of us reading. And he read the same few pages over and over and it was okay.
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eraenaa · 9 days
Text
Parting Gift
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Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Aegon Targaryen Tag List
Synopsis: Aegon asks for a parting gift from his younger brother and his beloved wife: One night with you in exchange for the throne. 
Warnings: Threesome, ¿Manipulative Aemond?, Violence, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (f and m receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, ¿Slight Degradation?, Not Proofread 
Word Count: 5,017
A/N: Even I have to admit that this is one of the more steamier fics i made.
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After the toll of war had subsided, your husband and his side reigned victorious—after two years of blood, battles, and betrayals, the greens had defied the odds and won the Dance of the Dragons. Your lord husband now serving as the hand of his brother, the King who still had not come to terms with his responsibilities to the realm. Often, you wonder who the true king was, Aegon or your husband Aemond, who had stood in his brother’s stead, taking all the responsibilities that were not meant for him.  
You admired your husband’s efforts and initiatives, but you would admit you had missed him dearly. After moons spent away as he waged war in the Riverlands and his duties as hand and now substituting as king, the two of you had barely time for each other. It had not left your lips yet, but you were starting to feel neglected. You would hope that the nights would be spent with just you and your husband, but more often than not, you went to sleep alone, cold and needing in your bed. Only feeling Aemond’s presence when the morning was soon to come, and when you woke, Aemond was no longer there. 
“Aemond…” You called as you clung to his side, the two of you in the sitting area, him reading countless scrolls whilst you clung to his side, trying to fight for his attention. You placed soft kisses on his neck and jaw, and before, he would always be quick to respond. However, now, he simply hummed and continued on with his duties. You feel yourself pout as your eyes shift between him and the scroll in his hands. You bit your lip and sighed in defeat, standing and making your way to your bed to sleep and not dwell on the growing hurt of your husband’s neglect. “Where are you going?” Aemond asked, voice still distracted, his hand clasped around your wrist. “Bed. I… I don’t wish to disturb you,” You say quietly and gaze into his lilac eye. Aemond sighed and shook his head, pulling you towards him, you landing on his lap and you circled your arms around his neck. 
“Just one more scroll, and I’m all yours, my fire,” He whispered and connected your lips briefly, but it was enough to bring butterflies to your stomach and need to your core. You waited patiently on Aemond’s lap, scratching your nails gently at the back of his head as he read. You hear a deep, satisfied hum leave his throat as you do the action, and you feel your lips twitch into a smirk. You were reading along with what he read when you were caught by surprise as he intertwined your lips once more, the scroll he read discarded to the side. “I’ve missed you, my love,” You sighed against his lips, his hold on your waist growing tighter, and you felt his arousal through your shift. 
“I should hope so… I apologize for my extended duties,” Aemond sighed and tucked a stray piece of your hair, watching intently as the sleeve of your shift drifted off. “You’ll make it up to me, won’t you, my love?” You hummed and entangled your fingers in his hair. Taking hold of the strap of his eyepatch to gaze at the sapphire in his eye. “That, I will,” Aemond smirked and moved you to straddle his waist. 
You moaned as your lips locked again, his tongue fighting with yours. You lifted your waist as he undid and pulled down his breeches, his hard length already pushing against your entrance. “Aemond… gods, I’ve missed you.” You moaned as you sank down on his length. “Me or my cock?” He breathed out, amused, already overwhelmed at how you clenched around his length, missing the feeling of you. “Answer, little wife,” Aemond hummed as you bounced on his length, his head dipping down to take the bud of your tit, his teeth lightly nipping it, making you moan louder. "Both,” You answered. You would often touch yourself during the nights Aemond would be taken by his duties. Trying to imagine it was Aemond’s hands bringing your pleasure, but that was not enough to suffice your needs. You needed your husband desperately. 
For the first time in a few moons, you and your husband were intimate and slept in your marital bed together. You slept that night contended, and when morning came, you felt your heart double as you still felt him holding you against his chest. 
You smiled and raised your hand to lightly trace his brow, “Good morning,” You smiled as Aemond’s eye twitched open. “Indeed it is,” He whispered and dipped down to kiss your lips, moving you to rest your whole body atop his chest, making you let out a small laugh. You inhaled his scent deeply, savoring him. “My love?” You called, and you traced the contour of his chest; Aemond hummed. “Will you do something for me?” You asked shyly. “I will do anything and everything for you,” Aemond replied without hesitation, your smile growing wide at his words. “Can… can we spend more time together?” You asked quietly. “I’ve just noticed that the time spent with just us has grown scarily scarce… and I’ve missed you greatly, Aemond.” You pouted, and Aemond sighed. 
“I admire how you tend to your duties meticulously… almost stubbornly, in fact.” You say, and Aemond laughs, “But you have a duty to me as well.” You cautiously added. Aemond sighed and ran his hand through your hair, trailing down your back, making gooseflesh rise to your skin by the touch of his cold hand. “I apologize, my fire, that my duties had led me to neglect you,” Aemond softly said as you traced the scar on his cheek. “So, will you spend the day with me?” You asked hopefully, but the smile on your lips slipped as Aemond let out a grievous breath, hating to see the disappointment in your eyes. 
“I just… I have prior engagements this week, little wife. But I swear to you, by the week’s end, I am completely yours.” Aemond quickly said, trying to relieve the disappointment in your eyes. Aemond kissed your pouted lips, “Very well then,” you sighed and removed your weight from your husband to get ready for the day. 
Later that day, you found yourself in the gardens, a bit sullen as you spent the day alone once more. Before, you would spend the days with Helaena, but you were left utterly devastated when during the war, her madness took her— the Red Keep mourning her deeply for moons to come. Aegon watched as you solemnly walked through the flowers, your smile he had grown to admire was gone, and he was alarmed as he had not seen it for a while. Aegon knew he should attend to his duties, that his brother and the small council were already waiting for him, but he could not hinder himself as his feet carried him towards your direction. 
You hear shuffling behind you, and you quickly turn, your eyes locking with violets. “My king,” you curtsied as you saw Aegon. He smiled, “How many times must I tell you, no titles are needed when it comes to family, sister,” He said and stepped closer to you. You gave him a small smile and nod, “How are you, brother? I heard that the realm has been proven to be quite… demanding after the war.” You asked as he offered his arm for you to take, escorting you through the gardens; oh, how you wished Aemond was the one escorting you— but you would take any company offered. 
“Indeed it has… though I am quite fortunate to have my brother as my hand, Aemond has always been the one keen on such matters,” Aegon answered, inhaling a deep breath of your scent as a gust of wind came. You always smelt so lovely, Aegon thought. A calming scent, and he wondered if it were the reason his brother would soften every time you were in his presence. Or perhaps it was just your whole being, sweet and serene. 
“Yes, quite keen,” You say, and Aegon is quick to notice the sadness in your tone. “You do not approve?” He questioned, and you could not even have it in yourself to lie through your teeth. “It is just… I miss him. With the moons spent apart, I thought at least we would spend some time together, but he was quickly ushered to his duties.” You confessed, and Aegon pursed his lips. He, too, knew the plight of the duties of the realm, and though he had already fought the war, the throne was one thing he had never wanted. He thankfully had his brother to rely upon, Aemond catching the duties of king as well as hand. However, he did not expect you to grow so… sullen about your husband’s extended duties. 
After a few more moments in the privy of the gardens, Aegon reluctantly departed from your company, knowing he must attend to at least one matter for the day. He ventured towards the room of the small council, hindering the guards from opening the door, for he eavesdropped upon the conversation held when he was not present. Aemond had always commanded the room, and it would seem that even in the king’s absence, his presence was not missed. He stood there for a few minutes, noting how productive his brother and the lords were, a matter they cannot do when he is present. 
Aegon drew in a deep breath before nodding for the guards to open the doors and as he walked in, it would seem their meeting was done. The Lords and masters stood to take their leave, surprised by the presence of their king. Aegon nodded along as they passed him, and his brother sat in his place, his persistent scowl adorning his face. “You are incredibly late… we have finished the matters for the day,” Aemond said sternly, not bothering to stand from the seat Aegon did anything to deserve. “I apologize; I was taken by your wife… accompanying her in the gardens,” He spoke and watched as Aemond’s nose flared and his fists clenched. 
“You should pay more attention to attention to her, brother. You are fortunate enough to have a wife so eager to be in your presence,” Aemond clenched his jaw at his brother’s words, hinting longing in his tone. Aemond’s vision was impaired, but he was not blind to miss the yearning of Aegon for you. They had known you since childhood, and ever since, Aegon was always enthralled by your presence, mystified to be with you, but your heart and attention were always on Aemond. Aemond knew not what he had done to be blessed by such adoration from you, but he knew he would not be an ingrate to question it and squander it off. 
“I would have time for my lady wife if the king tended to his duties rather than let me handle them,” Aemond spat as his brother stepped closer to him, noting that your scent had lingered on Aegon, making jealousy in him spike. How close were your proximity to each other? 
“You had always been the one able to perform and solve the problems of the realm; why must I do it when I have no wish for such duties?” Aegon questioned and that only added to Aemond’s rage. “Because you are king!” Aemond almost yelled, abruptly standing from his seat. Aegon simply hummed, toying with the orbs on the table. “Aye, king,” He stated, not accepting his faith. “Perform your duties, brother— I am merely your hand, and I am tempted to step down for even I am overwhelmed by the demands of these two duties!” Aemond threatened, and Aegon sighed, shaking his head.
“What if I lessen it?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, and Aemond frowned. “What do you mean?” The prince asked, and Aegon let out another sigh. “I shall lessen your duties; you no longer have to be the hand and king… just… just king,” Aegon stated confidently at his decision. He had no wish for duty or this life— he was unencumbered by a wife or children; hypothetically, he was a free man. He was free to do what he wished, but the crown was his only hindrance. 
There were only a few moments in his life where Aemond was taken aback; him claiming his dragon, your first kiss, your wedding day and night, and his sister’s death, Aegon stepping down as king was now added to that list. “You cannot be serious,” He stated, unable to find the words. “I am,” Aegon replied with finality. “You know I never had the wish to be burdened by these duties. I was ready to sail off to YiTi but you and Cole had hindered me.” Aegon stepped closer to his brother, who stood still in shock, “Be the King, Aemond. Help me escape, and the iron throne is yours,” Aemond licked his lips, pondering over the proposition before ultimately nodding. Aegon felt a smile twitch on his lips, already feeling the weight of pressure off him. 
“I’ll find you a ship,” Aemond stated, ready to perform the plan, but his brother took hold of his shoulder. “However, I do wish for a parting gift,” Aemond rolled his eye as he heard the tone of his brother’s voice. “What more could you want?” Aemond asked, straightening his back. “In exchange for the throne, I want your wife.” 
Aemond did not hesitate before grabbing his brother by his collar, landing a punch on his jaw, and slamming his head upon the table. Aegon sadistically laughed, “Come now, brother,” He said in amusement. “Perhaps I should just kill you now and take the crown for myself,” Aemond mused, slamming Aegon’s head into the table once more, wanting to draw blood as Aegon had the audacity to want you. “And be a kinslayer twice?” Aegon hummed, “You were lucky enough your sweet wife still loved you even after starting the war— do you think she would still be able to forgive you if you kill your brother?” Aemond gripped his brother’s hair harder. 
“Just one night, brother… share her for one night, and the throne will be all yours. She’ll be your queen and your son the heir to the throne,” Aegon played with Aemond’s desires. Aemond gritted his jaw and felt rage fuel him. He let out a breath and released his brother, “One night,” He gritted, and Aegon smirked as he stood. “And I shall be in observance.” He added, and Aegon nodded, expecting it. “Very well then, go, find me a ship, and I shall see you and your lovely wife when the moon is high,” Aegon smirked, already filled with desire and excitement to have you, even if it was just for one night.
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“Aemond!” You say in surprise, sitting straighter on the settee as your husband returns to you earlier than you had expected. Aemond shut the door of your chambers as you rushed towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss. Aemond turned lax in your arms, and he circled his arms around your waist. “Wha… why are you here?” You asked, and Aemond raised his brow. “It’s just… you usually return later in the night, though I am happy you are here,” You beamed, and Aemond could only kiss your lips as he could not disclose the reality of his early return. 
Aemond led you to the sitting area, never parting your lips as he gathered the courage to tell you of the dealing made behind closed doors. You took in deep breaths as your lips parted, and you perched upon his lap. “Seriously, why are you here so early? The sun has barely set… is everything well?” You asked in concern as you saw apprehension in his lilac orb. “Aegon wishes to step down as king,” Aemond confessed and watched your eyes widen, but you were not completely in shock; in truth, you were just counting down the days before Aegon fully escaped his duty.
“I found him a ship, as he had ordered,” Aemond added, stalling as he had no clue how to tell you about their dealings. “When is he to leave?” You asked quietly, intertwining your hands with your husband’s. You could feel a slight sadness in him that yet another member of his family was to depart. “Before tomorrow’s early light,” Aemond said, and you nodded. “Then… you’ll be king?” You asked cautiously, thrilled that your husband would finally gain what he had wanted since he was a boy but dreading the demanding duties that come with it. You could only hope that with his council, he would not be completely burdened by the realm as he was now. “Aye,” Aemond nodded and cupped your cheek. 
“However… my brother asked for a parting gift before he leaves,” He said, watching keenly every reaction present in your face. “Oh? What is it?” You asked and slightly frowned at the solemn and almost apologetic look on your husband’s face. “He… he asked for you,” Aemond bit his lip as your mouth parted in shock and your eyes filled with confusion. “What? Me? Y—you said ‘no,’ yes?” You asked in scandal, but you feel your stomach pit as your husband could not give you a reply, his eye going downwards to the floor. “Aemond… wh—“ 
“It’s just for one night, my love— and I shall be here to make certain he will not step a foot out of bounds,” Aemond whispered and felt his stomach twist as you stood and walked away from him. “You cannot be serious!” You almost yelled. 
Aemond went to you and took you into his arms. “Just one night… after that, I will be king— you, my queen. Our children to be the heirs of Westeros.” Aemond tried to convince. You shook your head; in truth, you know you should feel offended that your husband had practically sold you off to his brother like a common whore in exchange for the throne, but you could not find yourself to be appalled by the dealings made. You sighed heavily and shook your head. 
“If I am king… I will have more time to be with you, having installed a council that I know is competent and will not waiver under small dilemmas— unlike the pathetic lords my brother had chosen. Isn’t that what you wanted, my fire? For us to spend more time together? Have you not said it yourself that you had missed me terribly, hm?” Aemond tried to sway your mind. He was truly blessed that you were always one to believe and fall for his words. 
You took a deep breath, “Are… are you certain of this— you would let your brother f—fuck me?” You said hesitantly, watching as his eye darkened and his jaw clenched. Aemond had always been a jealous man, never one to share. You recalled the time he had cut the hand of a lord for he had touched you. It was quite a severe reaction, especially when you considered you and Aemond were not anything but childhood friends at the time. Aemond could only nod, and you rested your hands on his chest. “Very well then, I shall do as you wish.” You agreed. Aemond had told you that he would do anything and everything for you, and you supposed you would do the same for him. 
When the hour of the owl came, you sat nervously in yours and Aemond’s shared bed as he was sitting before you by the sitting area. Husband and wife waiting for the king. With each moment Aemond stared at you, perched upon your bed, the candlelight illuminating you, the doubts in him multiplied. When he heard you let out a shaky breath, his mind had now convinced him not to go through with the plan, but before he could take back what he had devised, a knock sounded out through your room, and Aemond knew that the both of you were past the point of no return. You chewed on your lip as your husband downed his wine and went to unbar the door for his brother. 
Aegon was greeted by the scowling and enraged face of his brother as he opened the door. “Try not to put a damper on my mood, little brother— this is my last night after all.” Aegon mussed as his eye went to you, who sat on your bed, his cock already twitching at the sight of you only in your shift. 
You swallowed thickly as the two Targaryen brothers stood before you. You shuddered as you felt Aegon’s eyes assess your frame. You turned to Aemond, and there was a steely look in his cold lilac eye. “You will not kiss her lips; it is only meant for me.” Aemond gritted. “You are no fun, brother,” Aegon drawled, his mind already consumed by the thought that he would finally get to taste and feel your plump lips upon his. “But very well, I shall do the orders of the future king,” Aegon teased and stepped closer to you. You bit your lip and turned to Aemond, him going back to his seat as his brother started to have his way with you. You swallowed thickly and bit your tongue as you felt Aegon place kisses on your neck, his fingers draping off the sleeve of your shift. 
You were unusually quiet, Aegon thought. When you and Aemond would couple, he would often hear your moans of pleasure ring through the halls. Aegon doubled his efforts, for he was detrained to elicit the same reactions from you. You let out a small whimper as he took one of your breasts into his mouth, his teeth gently nipping the bud and his tongue soothing it. Aegon palmed himself as rested his head between your ample breasts, trying to ignore the burning stare of his brother. You let out a breath as Aegon placed kisses on the underside of your tits, his lips trailing downwards and downwards until he knelt between your cunt. “Your wife can be as quiet as she wants… but her cunt cannot conceal her arousal for me,” Aegon smirked and turned to Aemond, who violently griped the armrest of his chair.
Aegon did not waste another moment before burying his face in your cunt, and you harshly bit your lip as you felt a moan wanting to escape. You looked downwards and watched as Aegon ate your cunt, the sounds so lewd and made your cheeks flush further.  It would seem his years of depravity did teach him well on the art of pleasure. Your eyes shifted to your husband, who had been watching you try earnestly not to moan and show your pleasure. Aemond sighed as he saw your eyes well in tears. He sighed and gave you a nod, and Aemond shut his eye as you fell back on the featherbed and finally let out your moans. Your hands tangled in Aegon’s shorter hair as he lapped on your cunt. “So fucking sweet… it is no wonder my brother is so addicted to you,” Aegon moaned and inserted his finger in your cunt, groaning at how quickly you clenched at the digit. He sucked at the pearl of your cunt and relished the way your moans grew louder. 
Aemond knew he should not find pleasure, let alone tolerate the scene before him, but he could not help but palm his length as he gazed at you wrapped in pleasure his brother gave. He had never seen you in such a way, for he was always too focused on bringing you pleasure. He watched with amazement at the way your back arched, your lips agape, and you spewing out moans. The way you gripped the sheets and the way your hips writhed against Aegon’s face. 
Aegon licked his lip as he brought you to your climax, your heavenly taste still lingering on his tongue. Aegon stood before you and unlaced his breeches, and took out his length. He wanted to turn to his brother and give him a teasing smirk as he would fuck you, but he could not find the strength to tear away his gaze from your face that was flushed and contorted in pleasure. Aegon grabbed a hold of your thighs and pulled you closer to him, hissing as your wrapped your legs around his waist and the tip of his cock entered your tight, warm cunt. “Seven hells…” Aegon muttered as your cunt took him in. You breathe out as you feel him fully sheathe himself inside you. His cock was not as big as Aemond’s, but he was still well-endowed, and you still felt somewhat overwhelmed by the size of him. 
Aemond only focused on your face and moans as his brother fucked you. Fucking his fist, imagining he was in Aegon's stead instead. Aemond could not bear it any longer. When he heard his brother’s heavy breathing and observed Aegon’s thrusts become sloppy, Aemond stood and pulled his brother back. You whined as Aegon’s cock abruptly slipped out of your cunt. Through the haze of pleasure, you propped yourself on your elbows and observed how two Targaryen brothers stood before you once more, your legs parted and your cunt in full display for them. 
“You overstep, brother. You will not spill your seed inside my wife,” Aemond gritted and pulled you towards him; you moaned loudly as you felt the tip of his cock gliding through your slick folds. Aegon groaned and shook his head but did not quarrel with his brother. You turned your head to the side when you felt Aegon kneeling by it, him placing his cock between your lips, and you turned to your husband for permission if you could suck his brother’s cock. Aemond gave a reluctant nod, and it was only then did you parted your lips. 
Aegon groaned loudly and tilted his head back as you hallowed your cheeks and sucked his length. Your teeth lightly grazed his skin, pain mixing with pleasure just as he enjoyed it. “Fuck— perhaps, brother, I shall be rid of you and take your wife as mine instead,” Aegon moaned in the pleasure you gave, but you abruptly stopped at his words. Aemond smirked at your loyalty; he knew what his brother said was a jest, Aegon being forever unserious, but you did not take his words lightly. 
Aegon looked down at your glaring eyes, his cock still in your mouth, but you seized any pleasurable movements. “It was a jest,” He clarified and tucked in a stray lock of hair. It took a moment before you resumed your action, your glaring gaze rolling back at the way Aemond thrust deep inside your cunt. Aegon was skilled in fucking, but not as skilled as your husband. For Aemond knew every part of you and had memorized every action that would bring you pleasure. Aemond was relentlessly thrusting against the sensitive spot in your cunt, and your moans only grew louder as Aegon reached down and drew circles upon your nubbin and his other hand pinching the bud of your breast. 
You gagged against his cock, the tip of it hitting your throat. When Aegon felt your throat tighten around his length, he could not hold back any longer as he spilled his seed. He slowly took out his cock from your mouth and watched as you swallowed his spent with tear-filled eyes, hazy in pleasure he and his brother gave. 
“Rub her faster,” Aemond ordered his brother, wanting to show what his wife was capable of— dangling something Aegon could never get. Aegon, still dazed by his climax, mindlessly obliged, and his ears rang with your loud moans. “Ae… Ae—“ You trialed as Aemond lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. “Look how pleasured you are by us… you don’t even know who to call upon,” Aemond hissed as your cunt almost painfully clenched around him. Aemond reached forward and clasped his hand around your neck, the pacing of his thrusts fast and sloppy. “Show my brother your talent, my fire— show him how much of a whore you actually are,” You whimpered at Aemond’s words, but you knew it was all for your benefit because you sadistically liked it when he would be mean and callous with you when he fucked you. 
Aegon felt his flaccid length quickly harden again as you reached your peak. Your eyes rolled back, your face completely flushed, and your cunt emitted a sloppy, wet sound that accompanied Aemond’s final thrusts. He watched his awe as you sprayed your release, Aemond smirking down at you in pride before placing a kiss on your lips. “You’re a fucking lucky bastard,” Aegon breathed out, watching as you caught your breath, your body slick with sweat and glistening under the candlelight. “That, I am,” Aemond smirked and gave you another kiss before turning to his brother. 
“You got your parting gift. Now, leave us to rest— I shall fetch you when it is time for your escape.” Aemond said coldly, ushering his brother to the door. Aegon struggled to put on his trousers. He badly wanted to stay, to be in your presence for just a while longer but Aegon conceded, counting his blessings as his brother actually agreed to his request. Before Aemond could shut the door on his brother, Aegon hindered him. “Thank you…” It was off-putting to say such words, “I will miss you… but mostly your wife,” he jested, and Aemond was too tired to control the amused grin rising to his lips. Aemond nodded, “Take care, brother,” he said and watched Aegon turn on his heels and walk away, leaving the new king and queen of Westeros to find respite. 
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kitkatscabinet · 13 days
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SNUGGLE BUG
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Summary: The boys try to get out of bed, their partner has other plans.
Pairing(s): Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, x reader
A/N: unedited
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DICK GRAYSON
Dick's always been a physically affectionate person, far more so than the rest of his family. It's why he'd been so ecstatic when he'd found you, a partner that was just as, if not more affectionate than him.
On more than one occasion his siblings had been given front-row seats to the snuggle show when they broke into his apartment, served them right really.
What Dick hadn't accounted for, was just how difficult it was to peel himself from your arms in the morning. Torture would hurt less he's sure.
"Ten more minutes," you whined childishly, burrowing your face into Dick's bare shoulder, tightening your arms around his torso.
"We've already said that three times." Your partner laughed, wriggling out of your hold but with far less strength than you knew he was capable of.
Both of you were fully aware just how quickly he could extracate himself from your arms should the neccessity rise. Technically speaking he did have to go to work, but surely it couldn't hurt to be a little late?
Though a quick glance at the hello kitty alarm clock on the bedside table confirmed he was already late.
"Dickie, can't you just call in? I wanna cuddle."
Fuck. How could he say no to that?
It wasn't like he really needed the money anyway.
His boss's ire is worth it to feel the way you smile into the skin of his neck, your warm breaths and little laughs as you lay tangled together.
So worth it.
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JASON TODD
"You planning on letting me go anytime soon?" Jason grunted, though you know him well enough to hear the smile he's attempting to hide.
"Never," you mumble into the skin between his broad shoulder blades, the mattress slouching beneath the combined weight of you and your boyfriend.
Jason, undeterred by your attempts to drag him down, stands with a grunt. A cracking noise you know to be his knees rings out, and though you feel a little bad, you're unwilling to back down in your quest to get him back into bed.
Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is built like a brick shithouse and is just as stubborn as you. Slowly, he manouevers around your small apartment all the while you hang off his back like a drunken Koala.
"Babyyyy," you whine petulantly into his ear, arms tightening around his neck in an attempt to only slightly choke him into submission.
Sighing, Jason starts to wander back into the bedroom. Just when you think you've won, he spins around, falling backwards onto the mattress and crushing you beneath his bulk.
In the minutes you spend winded, recovering, from being squished like an ant, Jason makes his escape. When you finally manage to come back to yourself you notice something incredibly distressing.
"Clothes! Why are you wearing clothes!" you wailed, sliding off the mattress and onto the floor in a pathetic slump.
Despite himself, Jason smiles at the sight, bundling you up in his arms before hopping back into bed with you. "Ok, you big dramatic baby."
Hey may have sounded put out, but the both of you knew he wanted to cuddle just as much. Besides, nothing was as important to him as you.
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TIM DRAKE
He’d tried to be quiet. Truly, with years of training in the art of stealth Tim had intended to simply slip out of the bed and leave you to the sleep you needed.
He’d almost made it, both feet on the floor and the mattress no longer bearing most of his weight when all of a sudden a hand darted out, grasping his wrist.
Tim froze, slowly turning to look down at you with wide, guilty eyes. You're glaring up at him, sleep-addled face far more adorable than threatening, not that he'd ever tell you that, for fear of getting his ass beat.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" your voice is hoarse and gravelly from sleep but the threat is evident.
Mouth suddenly dry, Tim awkwardly chuckles, "Oh, babe, you're awake."
"Thanks to you," you grumbled sleepily, guilt and fear in equal measurements settling heavily in his chest.
"M'sorry, tried not to wake you but I gotta get to work on this case."
"No." You grunted, wrapping your arms around Tim's waist with freakish speed, nuzzling your face into his side.
He can't help the way his heart skips several beats at your casual affection. Tim's always been starved for touch, for the soft loving touch that you've always provided as if its as natural as breathing.
He should be used to it but despite the years worth of love and affection you've poured into Tim in the time you've spent together he still hasn't acclimated.
Tim knows, that you know, just how weak to your touch he is. It still doesn't prevent his resolve from crumbling when you refuse to let him budge, tugging him back down into your warm embrace.
"Good boy," you murmur against the skin of his neck, wrapping around his back like an octopus and trapping him against the expanse of your chest.
His skin runs hot at your words, mind numb to anything that's not your touch as he's eventually lulled back to sleep to the soothing sounds of your breathing.
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nariism · 9 months
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ೃ⁀➷ WHERE THE HEART LIES ˚ ༘♡
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a/n: fluff, pining, childhood friends to lovers, reader was in the same orphanage as wriothesley when they were kids, mild codependency (?)
happy wishing everyone! ≧◡≦
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Amongst the hundreds of books stored in the Duke's office, none hold a place in his heart quite like the dusty old atlas you gave him when you were children.
It's old and worn, something aged with the faint scent of Tidalga wafting as the pages turn. To an outsider, the atlas almost looks like garbage, or rather, exactly what it is—the only crappy book in the entire vintage shop that you could afford with your terrible allowance.
He doesn't see it that way.
It's a precious commodity to him, something he holds in high regard (despite the way he's glued the spine together on nearly a dozen occasions with the amount of times he's flipped through it).
Wriothesley is not a sentimental man. Growing up the way he did taught him not to grow too attached to material belongings.
There are few things in the world he would consider treasures: his boxing gloves, for one, though that's a given. His growing tea collection that originally started as a treat he would spend coupons on, but somehow evolved into a hobby.
And lastly, but perhaps most importantly, the map of Teyvat you gave him in the orphanage you came from. Because it wasn't only a birthday gift, it was something infinitely more meaningful than that.
He remembers that birthday fondly: he was twelve and you were ten. You'd snuck into his room beyond curfew and lights out, sheltered yourself under his blanket, and shoved the poorly packaged gift bag into his hands.
The two of you spent the entire night going through the pages, amazed at how giant the world truly was outside the confines of your orphanage—imagined how freeing it would be to explore it with nothing but your pair of feet and each other.
"One day," you breathed with excitement bubbling in your voice, "We'll leave this place and travel all across Teyvat."
It wasn't just a promise to see the world. It was a promise to see it together.
For a boy who had nothing at all, what you offered him was like placing the universe itself in his hands. And even at twelve years old, with you and that book sitting between his legs and a blanket thrown over his body, he knew he'd found a dream.
The older he got, the more he clung to that. 
You were the one he came back to when he was lost. The one who made the orphanage a home. The one who gave him a raggedy atlas of the world and whispered purpose into him.
Something to cherish. Something to protect. Something to love in this world when he had little to spare.
Though time had changed everything in his life, he still found it hard to abandon the welded pieces of your conjoined hearts.
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Unlike Wriothesley, you had chosen to return to the surface after you finished serving your sentence.
It was lonelier beneath the crushing pressure of the sea without you. He made sure you knew that, too, always bringing it up whenever you came by to visit in the most nonchalant ways.
The Fortress of Meropide was a home both of you had discovered after years of being without one. "Come home already," he used to complain when he was still just a regular inmate and you were dropping by with a care package. "I miss you."
Nowadays, he made certain you understood the gap in his heart without you by other means. Like, say, when he would invite you personally to his office for a cup of tea and some cake, which was a rare treat you missed out on as kids.
Once, you called him out for attempting to bribe you back down into the iron fortress which he, of course, denied with his chest. Still, you never failed to make the trip down despite your outspoken disinterest in being back in the prison, and his weak offer of sweets since you now worked at one of the most prestigious bakeries in the city.
You had initially greeted him this time with your hands all over him, arms wrapped so tightly around his neck in a hug that he could barely breathe. Sweet smiles and kisses pressed to his cheeks and fingers pinching his nose—every action endearing and a remnant of your childhood spent together.
Now, you're seething in the office at his simple question: how are things on the surface?
"... That's when I turned to Lady Furina and, get this, she somehow ate every pastry I'd brought in a matter of seconds!" You huff, pacing back and forth in front of Wriothesley's desk while you rant about your latest visit with the Archon.
Furina was often in your schedule in one way or another, and almost always she wanted you to bring along sweets from the shop you worked at.
Wriothesley finds humour in your woes, following you around in your pacing with his arms folded over his chest.
"You know, you could just show up to your audiences with her without treats."
"She would call high treason and toss me back in prison!"
The Duke just snorts, earning him a well-deserved glare. Even with the pull of your lips into a thin line and the narrowing of your eyes, he thinks you look like a breathing angel under the warm orange light of the office.
There was nothing in the world you could do that would make him stop loving you. Not even glaring daggers at him like he's your mortal enemy.
"You're exaggerating," he hums, trailing behind you once again as you pace around the desk. 
"No, I'm not. She's absolutely crazy. She's insane—!"
He nearly bumps into your back when you suddenly halt in your steps, attention stolen from the conversation. The hands that were flailing around in the air to animate your anguish drop to your sides.
Wriothesley peers curiously over your shoulder at what has caused you to stop so abruptly.
Oh. Oh, Archons. He can sense the heat rising to his ears.
He feels as though he's been spotted in vulnerability, even though that isn't at all what has happened and that you would be the last person to judge him even if he was.
But he feels seen. Caught in the act of sentimentality just because you've picked out the book you gave him all those years ago when all you had was each other.
"You still have this?" You gawk, pulling the atlas from its prestigious position on his bookshelf. It's in a spot that he can always see as soon as he enters the room—in his direct line of sight, he has a part of you with him.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Well, I just thought..." You consider the words for a moment, tasting them in your mouth before admitting embarrassingly, "I just thought you'd have thrown it out for a newer atlas. You know this is out of date, right? Half the oasis in Sumeru is covered in sand now."
"Why would I ever throw it out?"
"It's old," you lament again.
"And?"
"And... you can't even use it?" Your statement comes out more as a question and he can't help but roll his eyes.
"I can still use it," he insists.
You raise a brow, slotting the book back into its regular spot. "Good luck. When are you ever going to have time to do that, oh great and powerful Lord of the Fortress of Meropide?"
He ignores your little jab, as he's gotten so good at throughout his life. There's a sense of familiarity that rises in his chest, a strange nostalgia that drives him to open his mouth once more.
"Actually, about that..."
You turn to look at him again, hand coming up to brush the hair from his eyes. You always used to scold him for not taming it better. Now it seems permanently stuck as a fluffy mess.
"What is it?"
Your fingers graze his skin and he falls apart on the spot, feeling as though you had just tipped him over the edge of the cliff he's been too afraid to dive off of.
His hand catches yours, holding it just beside his cheek for a moment before lowering it to his side and tugging you just a little closer.
If he didn't ask now, would he ever?
"Let's leave this place," he murmurs, reciting the dream you promised him when he was twelve years old. "Let's travel all across Teyvat."
The silence that follows is so loud that it makes his ears ring. For a moment he falters, thinking he may have misread the situation and in turn whatever feelings he thought you may have harboured for him.
But then you take a daring step forward, nearly flush against his body. There's a look of wonder in your eyes that makes his heart race.
"Just you and me?"
"Just you and me." Just us.
There's a heavy implication behind that and you both know it. More than a proposal to chase a dream of bygone days, it's starting to sound like a confession. In his own roundabout ways, of course.
He can see the hitching of your breath, the subtle widening of your eyes, and all he wants to do is laugh at how seriously adorable you look.
"And what about the Fortress?"
"People here are less problematic nowadays than you may think."
"Won't the paperwork back up?"
"I can deal with it whenever I come back."
"Why me?"
Another silence.
"You ask too many questions," he says quietly, dodging your interrogation. In reality, he already has an answer. It's instantaneous, resting comfortably in his mouth but never leaving.
Why would it ever be anyone else?
He's having trouble focusing on anything right now with your chests so close together and his thumb running along your knuckles.
"Wriothesley," you say his name and it sounds like honey, the sweetest thing in all of Teyvat. And the look you're giving him, so touched and melting into nothing but a smiling mess—he isn't sure his heart can handle this. "I can't believe you remembered that."
"You kiddin'?" He laughs, slowly closing the distance between you. "It's all I've thought about my whole life."
He watches you carefully as you swallow down the lump in your throat. Your hand squeezes his and that's when he knows he's got you. You kiss him and he can feel the curve of your lips, the ever growing smile on your face meeting his. His knees are on the verge of buckling by the time you pull away.
"Surely you'll miss this place in your absence. This is your home now, isn't it?" You tease.
"Well, you know what they say." He gives you a grin so wide that his eyes crinkle. "Home is where the heart is."
It didn't matter if you were braving a sandstorm or the rainforest or the depths of the sea. 
Wherever you were, you would be his dream. You would be his home, too—just as you always had been for as long as he could remember.
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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libraryofgage · 8 months
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Good Vibrations Part One
Hello, it's me, back at it again with another Steddie AU.
Anyway, if I were tagging this AU, these would be the most important ones: Deaf Steve Harrington; Tooth-rotting Fluff; Getting Together
If you wanna be tagged in future parts, just let me know!
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)
----
Steve has blown through three pairs of hearing aids in the past year. The first pair had lasted a few years and needed replacement because of normal wear and tear. The second pair was sacrificed during that fight with Jonathan. He hadn't been wearing them, but they'd been in Steve's pocket, and he'd landed at just the right angle to feel them shatter. The third pair was taken by the Russians because, despite Robin's shouting and cursing at them for being dumbasses (and this was before she actually knew what they were for), they accused him of recording their kidnapping and torture.
Honestly, he wouldn't recommend fighting Russians and Billy and Mind Flayers and driving while nearly totally deaf.
The funniest part of it all, though, is that Steve doesn't even use hearing aids regularly. He normally only wears them at home. The pair lost to Jonathan were present because, well, that whole day had been a lot for Steve, and he needed the comfort of knowing he could stop reading lips the moment it became too exhausting for him. The pair lost to the Russians was because he'd been getting ready to tell Robin about being deaf. She'd already clocked the weird things he does (well, weird to her, normal to Steve), and he figured letting her in on the big secret would bring them a little closer.
Of course, that didn't go the way he expected. Robin thought he was confessing love and decided to beat him to the punch. That's how he learned Robin is a lesbian, and Steve couldn't let her be the only one admitting to something like that, so he told her about being bi and his long-standing, hopeless crush. And being deaf. But the bi with a crush thing seemed more important in the moment. She took it in stride, it brought them closer, and then Robin asked if Steve could teach her sign language.
Which meant that Steve had to learn sign language because he never had. Between not wanting to feel even more different than he already did and trying to convince his parents that, really, everything was fine and he didn't need to go to a special school for deaf and hard-of-hearing kids, he'd never learned. Learning it had somehow felt like an admission of weakness, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he learned for Robin, and they stumbled through sign language together, creating new signs only they knew.
But that's all in the past now, and Steve is working his ass off at Family Video to afford a new pair because he refuses to ask his parents for money. If he asks them, they'll come back, and that's the last thing he wants. They don't need to have all their worries confirmed that Steve is helpless, and he doesn't want them anywhere near Hawkins "Hellscape" Indiana.
So. Working his ass off, taking extra shifts, and babysitting the kids as much as he can to make up for the whole Friends and Family Discount he gives their parents. He's exhausted, but he gets to recharge somewhat during his lunch break.
About a ten-minute walk from the Family Video is a record store, which Steve has started visiting daily to just breathe. The lone worker in the store is usually too busy listening to her own music to pay Steve any attention, letting him wander and try to determine which records will best serve him.
Steve drifts over to the rock and heavy metal section, hoping to find a new album but unsurprised when he doesn't. He browses through them anyway, moving past Metallica and Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He already has all of these albums on his shelf at home. He has the cassette tapes for them, too.
But he really wants something new. He likes the novelty of experiencing unfamiliar vibrations through the speaker, letting them thrum through his fingertips and into his bones. It's fun and relaxing, and after all the bullshit he's been through lately, he probably deserves something relaxing.
After glancing over a few more familiar albums, Steve sighs and glances at the counter by the door. The lone worker is standing there, headphones over her ears, and idly flipping through a magazine. She's chewing gum, and Steve braces himself for the sheer hell of trying to read her lips without making it obvious he's reading her lips while she's got something in her mouth to disrupt the normal shape of words and sounds.
But he has to try. Steve takes one more deep breath before walking over, shoving his hands into his pockets when he comes to a stop at the counter. The girl raises a hand, motioning for him to wait, so he stays quiet as she finishes reading her page. She flips to the next one before looking up, not making any move to pull her headphones off.
"Hi. Do you have any new rock or metal albums coming in soon," Steve asks, feeling the vibrations of speech in his throat and hoping his words aren't too loud.
They don't seem to be. The girl doesn't flinch or pull back. She just looks him up and down, taking in the polo shirt and the nice khakis and the Family Video vest he forgot to take off before leaving. Finally, her neck and shoulders jerk slightly, and Steve knows she's huffed in annoyance. "No," she says, the word clear enough in the shape of her lips for Steve to know it immediately.
He frowns slightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. Steve wouldn't mind just leaving now, but something keeps him there. He just...he really wants new music. He needs something new. "Are there gonna be any shows nearby?" he asks.
The girl rolls her eyes and says something, her mouth distorted by gum-chewing. Steve can barely make out the words "you" and "check" from her response. Thankfully, it's accompanied by a vague gesture at something behind him. Steve looks over his shoulder to see a bulletin board with flyers plastered across it.
"Right. Thanks," he says, nodding to her before walking over. The flyers are all different colors with various fonts that scream for Steve's attention. Some of them are for bands, some are advertisements of garage sales or instruments in need of a new home, and others are just business flyers from stores nearby.
He's seen the bulletin board before, but he's never actually paid attention to it. Steve has always been laser-focused on browsing the records. But now, Steve carefully reviews each flyer advertising shows. Some are for comedy shows, which he immediately dismisses. One seems promising, but then he sees how far it is, and Steve definitely can't do an overnight trip like that.
Finally, Steve sees a flyer advertising a show at the Hideout later that week. It's close enough that he won't be out overnight. The place is kind of seedy, but Steve figures he can find some corner near the stage to hide. Or he can bring Robin and let her help him navigate any potential social situations. He tugs the flyer off the board, gaze lingering on the "Corroded Coffin" emblazoned across the top.
He knows the band. Of course, he knows the band. He's extremely familiar with their singer. From a distance. Honestly, Eddie Munson probably doesn't have the best impression of him, but Steve's heart never really cared about that. Because Eddie is like everything Steve wants to be: he's loud and unafraid of being so, he doesn't care about his image and how others perceive him, and he looks like his laugh sounds beautiful. Steve wouldn't know if he's actually right about that last point, but Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, eyes crinkled and hand over his stomach like his muscles ache.
His mouth suddenly feels dry, but he's also filled with unprecedented courage. Steve has graduated (barely), and that means a significantly lower chance of running into Eddie during the day if watching the show somehow goes wrong.
Steve folds the flyer into quarters and stuffs it into his back pocket. He'll be overly aware of it being there until Robin starts her shift and he can show it to her, but that's okay. He throws a quick thanks over his shoulder as he leaves the shop, glancing up at the bell he can't hear that signals the door's opening. He vaguely remembers what bells are supposed to sound like (he'd heard a few before losing the ability to hear them), but he doesn't let himself dwell on it.
Instead, he focuses on the trip back to Family Video, keeping an eye on the road to watch for any cars he wouldn't notice otherwise.
----
When the final bell rings, Eddie Munson can't get out of class fast enough. He'd been packed for the last five minutes, and he slid out of his seat the moment that first peal rang out. He has a gig to prepare for, and every second counts. At least, each second counts until he notices something (or someone) that could prove entertaining for a while.
He spots Dustin alone near one of the exits, and Eddie decides to relieve the kid of his isolation. He waits until he's behind Dustin to shout, "Henderson!" and throw his arm over the kid's shoulders, ignoring the way he jumps like he'd been expecting an attack.
"Holy shit!" Dustin shrieks, jerking back to look up at Eddie. "Don't do that, man, you're gonna give me a heart attack."
Eddie snorts, waving away Dustin's concern as he continues toward the exit. The general flow of students trying to get out helps him along, and Dustin doesn't seem to realize they're actually moving until they've gotten into direct sunlight. "You're fine," Eddie says, "Anyway, whatcha doing all alone, Henderson? Lose your way?"
"No, I have...stuff to do today," Dustin says, shrugging as he blinks to acclimate to the sunlight.
Oh, yeah, way too cryptic for Eddie to not dig for more. "Stuff? What kinda stuff? Got a hot date? Going shopping with your mom?" he asks, and then he gasps dramatically and moves to stand in Dustin's way. He puts both hands on his shoulders and very seriously says, "Be honest, Henderson, you're seeing another DM, aren't you?"
Dustin stares at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shrugging his hands off. "Who else in this town DMs?" he asks, "Other than Will, I guess, but he's still working on a campaign."
"Fair," Eddie concedes, "so, whatcha really doing?"
After a few seconds of getting nudged by the students around them, Dustin sighs and says, "I have chores, okay? But that doesn't sound cool to say, does it?"
Fair. Eddie nods in agreement and moves out of Dustin's way, continuing to follow him. "So, what, your mom picking you up today?" he asks.
"No, Steve."
"Oh, the famous Steve."
Dustin nods, looking over the parking lot before pointing to one end. "Yeah, he's awesome," Dustin says as Eddie follows the direction of his finger.
And standing there, leaning against the hood of his car and looking to the side where a group of trees is swaying in the breeze, is Steve Harrington. Steve "The Hair" Harrington. King Steve. The worst thing, Eddie thinks, is that Steve looks good. His hair is still perfect, of course, and his stupid little striped shirt is pulling against his biceps and riding up just enough for Eddie to see a tiny sliver of tanned skin above his jeans. He looks a little tense, but Eddie chalks that up to him being back on the campus after already graduating.
"Harrington? You've been talking about Steve Harrington this whole time?" Eddie asks, his voice a little strained, "How the fuck do you know Steve Harrington?"
"He's my babysitter," Dustin says, his voice implying that much should have been obvious, but Eddie wants to grab his shoulders and shake until his head rolls off.
Steve Harrington doesn't babysit. He doesn't know nerds that talk about D&D. He doesn't drive nerds around. At least, he never did in high school. Granted, Eddie never actually talked to Steve, but everybody knew that Steve Harrington was too cool for, well, anything that wasn't the typical jock and popular guy shit.
As he's thinking about the last time he saw Steve Harrington (in the halls, while the guy had bruises and looked worse for wear), they get within shouting distance. And Eddie has zero impulse control when Wayne isn't around, so he doesn't think before shouting, "Hey, Harrington!"
Next to him, Dustin whips his head to glare at Eddie. And Steve Harrington doesn't fucking react. He just keeps staring at that group of trees like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude," Dustin says, grabbing Eddie's arm and yanking harshly, "don't shout like that."
Eddie frowns, anger beginning to simmer in his stomach at the complete lack of acknowledgment. "Why are you upset with me?" he asks, gesturing at Steve as he continues, "I'm not the one being a douchebag here."
Dustin opens his mouth, about to say something, only to snap it shut once more. He frowns like he's just realized he can't say something, and huffs with frustration. "Just...just don't do that," he finally says, keeping a hand on Eddie's arm and dragging him across the parking lot. And, yeah, something is definitely weird here.
Instead of just walking up to Steve, they make a large arch until they're within Steve's line of sight.
Eddie watches as Steve notices them, seeing Dustin first and pushing off the car. He relaxes for a split second until he sees Eddie and his shoulders tense again.
Great.
Once they're close enough for Eddie to count the moles above the collar of Steve's shirt, Dustin grins and says, "Hey, Steve." But it's odd, because Eddie has never heard Dustin talk this slow or this carefully, like he's doing his best to enunciate his words.
Steve flashes a grin and ruffles Dustin's hair. "Hey, twerp, you're late," he says. He then glances at Eddie, his grin becoming a little smaller, and says, "Hey, Munson."
Wait. Steve Harrington knows Eddie's name? And he called him by it? He said Munson, not Freak. Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before nodding. "Harrington," he says, "how the fuck did you become a babysitter?"
Is he just imagining things, or is Steve looking at his mouth? Like, really intensely. He's definitely not, because Steve looks up after a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. "I needed some extra cash. Also, don't swear around Dustin. I'm the one who gets in trouble when he curses in front of his mom."
Something about the words makes Eddie grin. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be talking to Steve Harrington. And he would have laughed you into Mordor itself if you suggested their conversation would be about Dustin Henderson swearing in front of his mother. "What's his mom do when he swears?" he asks.
Because he can feel the conversation veering into something potentially embarrassing for him, Dustin lets go of Eddie and starts pushing Steve toward the driver's side of his car. "Okay, we gotta go. So many chores, so little time," he says, his voice back to that normal speed and enunciation.
Steve frowns slightly, looking down at Dustin and tilting his head just slightly. "What?" he asks. Instead of actually answering, Dustin just makes some vague gesture with his hand and looks at the car. "Oh, right. Go ahead and get in the car. And, uh, see you later, Munson."
"Is that a promise?" Eddie asks before he can think better of it.
Steve pauses, looking at Eddie's mouth with a slight scrunch to his nose. He seems to be considering something as Dustin scrambles into the passenger seat, watching them with narrowed eyes. Honestly, Eddie is surprised he's not blasting the horn to hurry Steve up. Finally, Steve comes to a decision and meets Eddie's eyes again. "Your band has a show tonight, right? At the Hideout? I was planning to go. So, yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."
And with that, like he hasn't just fucking rocked Eddie's world, Steve Harrington gets into his car. He makes sure Dustin is buckled before waving at Eddie and pulling out of the parking spot.
Eddie finds himself waving back, staring dumbly at the car as it pulls onto the street. It only hits him a few seconds later that Steve Harrington is coming to his show. At the Hideout. His metal show. A Corroded Coffin gig at the Hideout.
Holy. Shit.
3K notes · View notes
kamiversee · 28 days
Text
˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
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1 | Something about you
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❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | flirting, language, suggestiveness, fluff, & faint sexual tension.
❧ Word Count | 7.1k (we're starting off strong it seems...)
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
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——Congratulations, you’ve nearly escaped hell— not-so-happily entering your final year of university as time stands currently. And y’know what, you think you’ve coasted through most of your college years drama-free. Well, aside from freshman year you suppose, everyone fucks up around that time…
But that’s a tale for another day, right now, you’re finding yourself waltzing into an entirely different plotline— with your head held high as you waltz toward a newfound cafe that you haven’t had the pleasure of finding for the past four years. Up until today, you’ve just barely been stomaching dining hall caffeine. Which, to say the least, isn’t nearly as savory or energizing as coffee from your local cafe. 
Four years you’ve been going to this school and yet here you were walking right into an establishment you swear simply spawned out of nowhere because you pass this street all the damn time and you don’t remember this place being here a week ago. Yet, when you enter the cafe and spot a sign that says they’ve been there for the past three years, you begin to realize that maybe you should start going out a bit more…
Nonetheless, you mentally claimed that if the coffee here was bad, you’d walk right out and return to never acknowledging the place. But hey, when you do push past those double doors, fingers wrapped around a warm metal handle, a waft of smoky coffee aromas simmering into your nose, and spot a rather attractive cashier first thing, you’re quick to tell yourself that maybe shitty coffee might be worth a few things.
Especially seeing as six staggering feet of height, fluffy bright white locks of hair, and the most dazzling set of blue eyes take notice of your entering seconds after you’ve stepped inside— how could you not tell yourself that terrible coffee may be worth digesting so long as you get to drink in this tall, fine man whose name you note as Gojo as you near him and read the tag on his apron.
“Suguru, it seems the gods have finally answered my prayers,” Gojo yells back to someone you can’t quite see yet. His eyes were all over you, drinking you in just as you were him. The tall man receives a laugh from somewhere further behind him before he redirects his words to you, “To what do I have the pleasure of serving you today, sweetheart?”
Your lips parted as you approached the counter fully, your eyes lingering on his far longer than they should’ve. “Uh,” And you were making a fool out of yourself already, great, “It’s my first time here, so I’m not too sure…” Okay, that’s a decent enough save considering how your words earn a half smile from the man in front of you who tilts his head and eyes you down.
And fuck if he wasn’t every bit of intimidating looking down at you like that. He places a single hand onto the counter space in front of him, leaning forward just a bit before turning his head back to take a glance at the menu hanging up, as if he didn’t have it memorized already, “Well, for first-timers I usually recommend anything but our coffee.”
You bat your lashes at the man for a moment as he returns his attention to you, “Seriously? That’s the one thing I came in here for…”
“Ah, well,” Gojo clicks his tongue and shrugs a bit, leaning toward you just to whisper, “Y’gotta come here when I’m in the back.”
You lean forward, intrigued by his words, “…Why?”
“Cause’ Suguru doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing,” Gojo chuckles a bit and you reciprocate before pushing your brows together questioningly. “Suguru, my best fr-, my coworker.” He clarifies quickly.
“Ohh,” You nod, “So should I come back another time, or…?”
“Nono, you caught me a few minutes before rush hour,” Gojo says rather cheerfully before he leans away from you and flashes a smile, “I can run back there ‘nd make ya’ somethin’ since we’re not too busy?”
At that, you take a moment to glance around the cafe interior, spotting one, maybe two people sitting on their laptops and languidly sipping or munching away at their breakfast. You’re glad you came in when you did.
Not only did you get the chance to talk to Gojo, who you turn back to seconds later with a nod, but you also got the chance to get not-so-shitty coffee according to the man. “Yeah, actually. That’d be nice,” You hum to him.
Gojo dramatically moves to stretch his arms, clasping his hands together before extending them out with a heavy sigh, as if he were preparing to do such a difficult task. “Alrighty then, is there any specific kinda coffee you’re lookin’ for?”
“Still my first time here, Gojo. So, no…” The way you say his name so suddenly has him wondering if you knew him from somewhere. But, you quickly smile a little and nod your chin to his name tag, to which he looks down and laughs at himself. “Surprise me,” You then say moments later.
“Surprise you?” Gojo echoes.
You shrug sheepishly, “If that’s not too much work for you-“
“No, I don’t mind. I can surprise ya’,” His smile at you deepens and you catch the slightest dip in his cheeks as the most enamoring set of dimples pops out to your gaze. “Buuut, before I do… Do you have any allergies or dislikes I should be wary of?”
You hum, “Uh, no I don’t think so? I’m feeling rather open-minded today so, just bring me something good enough to have me returning for more.”
“Yeah? I mean, I’m sure you’ll come back for somethin’ else aside from jus’ coffee,” Gojo laughs to himself at his own comment and your eyes simply widen, a cute lil’ tilt of your head catching his attention.
You chuckle nervously, “What else would I come back for if not coffee?”
He shrugs before slowly turning away, “Oh, I dunno… Perhaps a certain handsome cashier that’s caught your eye?”
Oh, you see where he’s going with this. It may have been a while but, you know what flirting looks like. “Is this handsome cashier in the room with us, or…?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the way Gojo freezes and he sends you this look that you have to try your hardest not to laugh at.
He nearly pouts, “W-Well, yeah, obviously. You’re lookin’ at him.”
Your brows lift, “Am I?”
Gojo narrows those pretty blue eyes of his at you, “Do you not find me handsome?”
“Say I didn’t,” You murmur tauntingly, “Wouldn’t you be really embarrassed?”
The corner of his lips twitch before he scoffs playfully, “What are you, some kinda masochist?”
You giggle, “No, but seein’ that pout on your face was kinda cute.”
“Pout?” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Hah, what pout?” He scoffs again before straightening his face and attempting to be serious with you, “I didn’t pout-“
“You totally did,” You cut off, peering right into those mesmerizing eyes of his— damn, it was almost like you couldn’t get yourself to look away.
“I did not,” Gojo corrects your statement, lower lip poking out once more into a pout.
You shrug and finally get yourself to glance off to the side, “It was cute.”
He instantly tilts his head at that, ears perking up, “Y’think I’m cute?”
“I do.” You hum simply with your eyes wandering right back over to his face.
There’s this little moment between the two of you, a spark if you will, where you both just meet one another’s eyes and admire each other. Is this what mutual attraction feels like?
Perhaps if you squinted, you would’ve noticed the faintest shade of pink decorating his cheeks, “I-,” Gojo swallows suddenly, “Why thank you, sweetheart,” He utters suavely, as if to save himself from embarrassment. After which, he clears his throat, “That aside, we’ve got about six minutes before people start rushin’ in here ‘nd it’ll take two for me to prepare that coffee of yours so, do you mind givin’ me a name?”
You blink, “A name…?”
“Your name,” Gojo clarifies.
“Oh! Sorry,” You’re quick to apologize for your moment of daze, giving him your name seconds later to make up for it.
He starts to smile again, “That’s your name?”
“Yes?” You utter almost confusedly. Was there something wrong-
“It’s pretty,” Gojo interrupts your thoughts completely and your eyes go all wide all over again, a small feature in which he finds absolutely adorable.
“T-Thank you,” You stammer out, turning away to now avoid the eye contact you once couldn’t tear yourself away from.
“Uhuh,” His eyes scan you up and down once more before he sighs, “I’ll be back in a sec’, sweets,” Gojo says finally.
God, you think the nickname he threw out has your heart racing because it made your face so utterly hot. Almost as if you don’t hear nicknames like that on a daily basis…
Aside from that, you gave Gojo one last nod before looking back over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming yet. He’d told you that there was only a few minutes until rush hour so you were a bit wary that people would appear out of nowhere in the next-
“So you’re the girl that’s got Satoru all giggly, huh?” A voice purrs from somewhere in front of you.
Quickly, you return your gaze forward and spot a man, equally as tall as Gojo, with long dark hair, slim eyes, and a really pretty face— holy shit, how many hot guys work here??
“Uh,” You’re stuttering again, tipping your head to the side, “…Satoru?” You repeat, confused by the person he’s referring to.
The man chuckles, “Gojo,” He tells you, “Satoru Gojo,” You nod at the clarification and he grins warmly.
“Oh, then yeah I guess so,” You shrug sheepishly before flashing a smile, “So then that means you must be Suguru-“
“Geto,” He’s so quick to correct you that you almost immediately shut up, swallowing down your words as if you’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I assume Satoru told you my first name?”
You steadily nod, avoiding eye contact with him out of embarrassment, “He did…”
“As expected,” Geto hums before letting out a long sigh, “Just call me by me last, I don’t know you too well so I’m sure you understand.”
You hum, “Right, sorry.”
It’s a tad bit awkward for the next few seconds after that mild conversation but when you hear Gojo yelling from somewhere in the back, the awkwardness quickly subsides.
You even spot Gojo popping his head out from around the corner just to speak to his coworker, “Suguru don’t scare her off jus’ cause you have a girlfriend-“
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Geto interrupts, sharp with his correction as he glances back over his shoulder.
Gojo snorts, “Fine then, girl who’s a friend that you like-“
“I don't-,” A sigh leaves Geto’s lips before he’s moving to pinch the bridge of his nose, groaning afterward, “Just hurry up with the damn coffee before people start comin’ in.”
Your eyes somehow find Gojo’s and you watch him mouth out something to you, “He’s grouchy because his girlfriend’s ignorin’ him-“
“Satoru,” Geto says scoldingly, causing Gojo to flinch dramatically.
Then you see the white-haired man laugh before winking at you and dipping back around the corner. After which, you don’t even realize you’re smiling until you meet Geto’s gaze and feel your expression drop at the glare he’s giving you.
“What?” You murmur warrily, raising a brow at his plain look.
Geto tilts his head and studies your face for a mere moment, “You new around here or somethin’?”
“New to this cafe, yeah,” You explain, “Why?”
He shrugs, “I’ve learned most of our customer’s faces and majority of them live around the area but I’ve never seen you before.”
“I live not too far from campus but I wasn’t aware this cafe was here until today…” You explain steadily, earning somewhat of an intrigued expression from the man.
“Damn, really?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“So, wait,” Geto scoffs a little at the thought, “Don’t tell me you’ve been stomaching dining hall caffeine all this time.”
You chuckle and glance off to the side, “Well…”
“If you live near campus, how the hell are you just now finding us??” Geto questions, he seems genuinely confused by your cluelessness.
Your shoulders lift into a shrug, “I don’t go out much.”
“Maybe you should,” He tells you.
A thin lipped smile tugs at your lips, “Starting to realize that now, thanks.”
The man opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Gojo returning from the back and placing a hand on his shoulder, to which Geto glances down at.
“Alrighty Suguru, thanks for not scaring the pretty lady away!” Gojo says cheerfully as he pushes past his friend and makes eye contact with you.
Geto’s brows push together, “You’re welcome? I don’t know how I would’ve scared her, I-“
Gojo unintentionally cuts him off with a laugh, “You’ve been kinda grouchy towards women ever since you met-“
“Fuck off,” He grumbles, brushing off Gojo’s hand on his shoulder and turning to make his way to the back once more.
“See what I mean?” Gojo hums to himself.
Then Geto laughs, “You’re not a woman are you?”
“Suguruuu,” Gojo whines, turning his head back to his friend who’s already disappeared from his line of vision. Then, Gojo sighs and looks to you again, “Ah whatever, ignore him, he sucks sometimes.”
You grin, “You guys are best friends, aren’t you?”
The way Gojo tilts his head almost innocently is kinda cute, “How can you tell?”
“Mine acts similarly,” You explain, thinking of your best friend who’s not the nicest person in the world.
“Yeah?” Gojo hums, “An asshole once they get into a relationship?”
“I’m not in a relationship, Satoru!” Geto calls out from the back.
You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes at his friend's refutation of his claims. Looking somewhat off to the side, your thoughts wander more so toward your best friend, “Well, no, he’s kinda just an asshole all around.”
“Really? Why’re you his best friend then?” You’ve always found this question funny considering most people are confused about how you and your best friend are even friends when most times you two don’t get along.
Instead of really answering Gojo’s question, you look up at him and smile, “I could ask you the same thing, no?”
His brows furrow and he scoffs, “What? No, Suguru’s just grouchy today, I promise he’s usually better than that.”
You nod, “I see…”
“Anyway,” Gojo extends his hand out to you, “Here, give this a try,” He offers, handing a decently sized cold drink to you.
You receive the item and look down at it, “You’re not trying to poison me right?”
Gojo laughs, “Aaand why ever would I do that?”
The cup is steadily lifted to your lips as you lift your eyes to him once more, “I dunno, men are weird.”
“That they are,” He chuckles, “But no, that’d be illegal and I have no intentions of harming you.”
Again, you just nod at that and then take that first sip of the surprise drink he’d given you. A strong taste of vanilla and a nearly overwhelming amount of coffee creamer hits your tastebuds. You smile but you’re a bit taken back by how sweet it is. One, it’s way better than any cup of coffee you’ve ever had from the dining hall and two, it’s a lot sweeter than you were expecting.
“Holy fuck, how much sugar did you put in this thing?” You utter in surprise as you move the cup away from your mouth and glance at it as if that’ll give you the answer to your question.
Gojo lets out a laugh, “You said to surprise you.”
“Yeah but this is sweet as hell,” You tell him, your eyes raking over the cup in your hand.
“Sweet drink for a sweet girl, I don’t see a problem,” He responds with a little lean toward you.
“Right and-,” You scoff, eyes narrowing at the very lousy print of your name on the cup, “Who’s…” You almost laugh, “Christ, your handwriting is shit.”
Gojo lets out a huff, “Okay, first off, my handwriting is not that bad. And secondly-”
You’re quick to turn the cup to him and lift it, “Look at it!”
“Oh.” He squints his eyes at it, “Shit, that is kinda bad…” Gojo mumbles with an amused little smile on his face.
“Yeah, I can’t even read this…” You laugh, returning the cup to yourself, “But that’s okay, I appreciate the effort,” His smile grows at your comforting words as you then look up at him once more, “How much?”
“Since my handwriting’s so shit,” He starts, tilting his head at you and shrugging, “Consider it on the house.”
Your eyes seem to light up, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” Gojo hums.
“Aw, thank you,” Who would you be to ever pass up something free? Especially given by this cheeky cashier before you.
“Anytime-”
Geto’s voice intrudes from the back, “Satoru I thought I told you to change these filters? And why’d you leave such a big mess, holy shit.”
Gojo yells back to his coworker, slightly looking over his shoulder, “The mess isn’t that bad is it?”
You snort, “If it’s anything like your handwriting then uh…”
“Alright,” Gojo’s quick to look at you once more, “You just got a free drink out of me so I don’t wanna hear anything from you.”
“Satoru, these filters aren’t gonna change themselves,” Geto nags further.
You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes and yells back to his friend yet again, “You’re literally back there already, change them yourself.”
“Nope, it’s your turn,” Geto argues.
Gojo frowns, “But-”
“The girl’s not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” At that, you blink in surprise. How does he know you’re not ready to leave just yet? “Get your ass back here,” Geto orders.
Gojo turns his head and looks at you almost pleadingly.
You giggle, “What? Sounds like you’ve got some filters to change, Gojo…”
“Y’know what,” He scoffs and nods his chin to the cup in your hand, “$5.45.”
Your head cocks back a little and your brows go up, “I’m sorry?”
“The drink,” Gojo hums simply, looking back to make sure Geto wasn’t on his way out to scold him some more just yet, “Since you wanna take his side over mine…”
The way you frown misses Gojo’s eyes up until he turns to look at you one last time, his eyes going wide as you try to defend yourself, “I wasn’t-”
“S’fine, I got it,” An entirely different voice grumbles from your right, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. So close to you, an arm slips right past your face and you watch as an all too familiar man extends a card out to Gojo.
Your lashes bat a few times as an annoyingly familiar scent of cologne rushes into your nose. You’d literally just escaped said smell a few hours ago after leaving your apartment and yet here it was all over again, directly in your nose and you met the side profile of your best friend, “Choso?” You utter.
Whatever light and fluffy banter that was in the air seconds ago seems to die at the mere presence of Choso standing so closely beside you. Ignoring you, he urges Gojo to take his card and Gojo soon does so with a scoff— he was going to keep flirting and teasing you but here comes this all-too-serious-looking man taking your vacant side as if it were second nature.
The smile Gojo once had on his face simmered down and his expression became a lot more neutral as he quietly moved to charge Choso’s card.
After which, your best friend finally looks down at you, his eyes pointed in a glare that would make anyone feel unloved despite you knowing he feels quite the opposite (to some extent at least), “Don’t you have class in an hour?” Choso asks you in a dull monotone.
Your face scrunches up slightly before you shrug, “I was thirsty…”
Choso stares at you for a long moment, glances at Gojo, then back to you with a scoff, “Yeah, clearly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off by Choso taking his eyes off of you and receiving his card back from Gojo, the two men making eye contact once more and both looking as if the other had done something to offend them. Your best friend openly scoffs in Gojo’s face before pocketing his card and turning away, quickly walking out of the establishment.
Your eyes go wide, “Choso, wait!” You call out as your eyes followed him walking away from you. Only to be ignored again, you let out a huff and start to walk after him but turn back to Gojo one last time, “Sorry about him.”
Gojo’s expression seems to light back up a bit and he shrugs, “You’re fine.”
You nod and start turning away before remembering something and looking at Gojo yet again, slightly pointing at him, “You owe me a free drink by the way,” You remind him playfully.
His face is twisting right back up into that intrigued expression from earlier, “Do I now? And what for?”
“Your shitty handwriting of course,” You hum.
"Hm," He takes a second to think before letting out a slight huff. You then feel and watch the way his eyes glide up and down your body before he responds to you, "Alright."
And with that, both of you smile at one another one last time before you go running off to catch up with Choso. Gojo watches you almost in some kinda trance as you leave, spotting more customers approaching but ignoring them for the most part as his gaze remains glued to you until you’re completely out of his line of vision.
Then, he lets out this breathy little sigh, “Fuck…” Moving to wipe his face off as if that’ll rid himself of whatever the hell he’s feeling after talking to you. 
He didn’t even get to ask you for your number like he wanted to…
With perfect timing, “Satoru, the-”
“Filters, yeah yeah, I got it,” Gojo cuts Geto off completely, turning around to see his friend emerging from the back as they both swap places due to the approaching rush hour.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Outside, you were met with a slap of heat as soon as you exited the cafe, your eyes searching the area for Choso. A slight breeze of refreshing wind brushes over your skin as you finally spot the man having not gotten too far away.
Barely managing to catch up to him, you nudge Choso on his arm as soon as you meet his side, “Why’d you pay for my drink? I could’ve done that myself.”
Just as he did earlier inside the cafe, he acts as though you’re not even there, keeping his gaze forward and pretending he didn’t hear a single thing you just said.
“Choso? Hello??” You huff out, nudging him on his arm again.
His lip twitches into a scowl and he just barely side-eyes you, “What?”
You ignore all of his attitude, as you typically do, “Why’d you pay?”
“You’re a walking charity case,” Choso hums all too casually.
Your head goes back and you scoff, “I-, what? No, I’m not!” Then the back of your hand is landing on his arm as you hit him and he almost smiles.
Finding amusement in your reaction, he shrugs, “Yeah you are,” And before you can even try to get a response out, the cup of coffee in your hand is stripped from your grasp faster than you could blink. Choso removes the top and takes a sip, “Ew, you like this shit?” He scowls, placing the top right back on and handing you your drink back.
You blink, struggling to process a logical reasoning behind his action, “First off, no one told your ass to take a sip. And secondly-”
“I wanted to know what you got,” Choso cuts off, glancing at you to watch how quickly you get annoyed by him.
You groan, “You could’ve asked if that was the case.” He shrugs your words off and you roll your eyes at him, “And how the hell did you know I was in there anyway?”
“I didn’t,” Choso tells you, “I always go in there but today I happened to see your short ass at the counter when I walked in.”
You’re quick to shoot him a glare, “Stop that, I’m not short.”
He’s got this arrogant little grin on his face, “Look short t’me.”
“That’s because you’re taller than me, which doesn’t make you tall in general nor does it make me short.” You explain to the man simply with your eyes shooting daggers into the side of his face.
Choso continues to act as though you’re not even looking at him, “Being shorter than me makes you short-”
“And y’know what,” You cut off, tearing your eyes off of your overly bothersome friend, “You’re annoying.”
He cocks his head back, “Annoying? I’m annoying?” Finally, he looks at you, now searching the side of your face for answers.
“Yeah, very.” You hum.
Choso scoffs and then sizes you up and down, “Says the one who was gawkin’ over Gojo Satoru of all people.”
You nearly laugh, “Fucks’ that supposed to mean? How would that make me annoying?”
“He’s a weirdo,” Choso shrugs, pocketing his hands as he faces forward once more, “I can’t understand what you could possibly find attractive about him.”
You blink and both of you slow down in the pace of your steps, “I talked to him for less than ten minutes, how was I supposed to know he’s weird. And wait-, how does me finding him attractive even annoy you?”
Your best friend sighs and his words come out all too casually for them to be so offensive, “Cause when he breaks your heart,” Choso looks at you, “You’ll come bitchin’ to me about it.”
At that, you freeze, quickly turning to meet his gaze, “Who says he’ll break my heart? And bitching? Is that what you call me talking to you about my relationship issues?? Bitching? Seriously?” With your eyes narrowed and brows tightly knit together, Choso should’ve sensed that he struck a nerve there.
Yet, he seems to not care in the slightest, blinking as if he’d said nothing wrong, “Fuck else am I supposed to call it? I warn you about every guy you date but you don’t ever listen to me.”
Your face twists up, “That doesn’t make my complaints ‘bitching’…”
“Well, it makes it fucking annoying,” He hums before pulling his lips into a thin smile— mocking you through facial expressions.
Your brows go up, “Really? Okay then, sorry for ever confiding in you,” You set your eyes straight once more, “I’ll just go find someone else to-”
“You know no one else is gonna put up with your shit the same way I do,” He’s so quick to dismiss your little statement, almost as if the implication of you ever leaving him, in a sense, bothered him.
You scoff matter-of-factly, “That’s not true.”
“It literally is though,” Choso deadpans, “You have one friend and that’s me. Who the hell else are you gonna go rant to, hm?”
“Someone that doesn’t call my rants bitching.” You huff, crossing your arms over one another.
Choso scales his eyes down to your arms and he smiles, “Are you seriously mad about that?”
“Maybe,” You shrug.
His feet come to a stop and you follow suit, turning to avoid his eyes as much as possible. Choso stares at you for a moment before leaning toward you, tilting his head and angling his lips toward your ear.
All of which done so he could whisper to you, “M’sorry, princess,” Choso murmurs to you affectionately, “Y’know I didn’t mean that seriously, I’m jus’ fuckin’ with you.”
You remain unphased for a mere moment more before the constant brush of his breath against your skin makes you shudder, your hands moving to his chest to push him away, “Yeah, whatever… And stop calling me that.”
Choso blinks, feeling confused since you act as if he hadn’t been calling you such a thing for years, “Why?”
“Cause I don’t like it…” You so clearly lie— not that you enjoyed the nickname but more so that you’ve always felt indifferent to it. Or, almost always.
He smirks, “Your face is telling me an entirely different story.”
“Yeah?” You chuckle, moving to shoot your middle finger at him, “And what story does this tell you?’
Choso stares into your eyes for a long period of time before looking to your finger, smiling fully and tilting his head again, “…You wanna fuck me?”
Immediately putting your finger down, your brows tense, “What? No!” You exclaim, groaning as you return to your walking, “God, I cannot stand you.”
He laughs and follows right alongside you, “You’re so easy to annoy, holy shit.”
“And you’re insufferable,” You huff.
Choso shrugs simply, “You love me though.”
You glance at him, “Debatable.”
He pouts and pretends to clutch his heart, “Ouch-”
“Anyway,” Returning your attention to someone much less annoying than the man beside you, you nod your head back toward the cafe, “Do you know if he’s single?”
Choso nearly trips over his steps at the sound of that, letting out a cough, “Who-, Gojo??”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“Why?” Choso’s lips twitch, “You lookin’ to get rejected?”
Pausing, you look to him with a quirked brow, “Excuse me? What makes you think I’ll get rejected?”
“You’re uh…” He trails off a little, eyes lingering down your frame before he smiles and speaks to you in this faux gentle whisper, “Not his type, sweetie.”
Your eyes roll at that, “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Secondly, how do you know?”
“Uh, I’ve seen the kinda girls he’s into so trust me when I say…” Choso’s eyes shift to peer directly into yours, “It ain’t you.”
You stare back for a moment before shaking your head and looking off, “Whatever, you’re just saying that.”
“Yeah because I’m gonna lie to you about something like that,” He snickers to himself before rolling his eyes. Within seconds, he goes to look at you again only to see you heading in a different direction, “Hey! Where’re you goin’?”
“Away from you!” You call back.
He laughs yet again, “What, you can’t handle the truth now?”
Glancing back to him, “I’m gonna prove you wrong asshole.”
Choso flashes you a shit-eating grin as if he’s already begun praying on your downfall, “Sure you will.”
He then watches as you further away from him, his smile steadily fading as he catches himself a bit too happy at the sight of you so determined. Choso shrugs off whatever feeling the topic of Gojo Satoru had brought up within him, dismissing the entire thing as he truly believed you’d never really get yourself too involved with that guy.
Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see the way you were taking to Gojo before he walked in so, Choso had no idea of how things were about to play out within the next few hours.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
As such, after that morning class of yours that extended decently into the afternoon, you found yourself rushing back to the cafe as soon as you could.
You knew not of Gojo’s working hours so you had no clue whether or not he’d still be there but you sure as hell hoped so. Choso had really ticked you off with his claims.
You not being Gojo’s type? Yeah right, he didn’t see the way that cashier was looking at you, nor did he hear all the banter that took place. Given that, you were determined to prove your dear friend wrong and yourself right. You know flirting when you see it and that’s exactly what Gojo was doing.
So to say he wasn’t at least intrigued by you would be a blatant lie you had every hope on exposing to Choso.
When you finally find yourself entering that lovely little cafe, it’s a lot more busy in comparison to earlier— something you take note of for your possible future visits. The line wasn’t exactly too long but quite a few people were hanging out or studying throughout the establishment.
That aside, your eyes were quick to search for a certain white-haired barista, gaze lighting up the very second it meets the man it questions. 
Gojo had a weary smile on his face as he handed some girl a coffee and you could tell based on his eyes alone that he was tired of the chick rambling to him. He nodded and nodded, trying to keep himself appearing entertained by whatever she was saying but when he glances over and spots you, all his attention is diverted.
Those pretty blue eyes of his fixate on you and you watch as he finally dismisses the girl, nodding toward you as if to say he had another customer to tend to. She shrugs and finally leaves, to which you take place in standing where she’d been seconds ago, sending a smile to Gojo.
“Long day?” You suggest with a slight tilt of your head, to which he nods.
“You have no idea,” Gojo sighs out to you, “You’re back sooner than I expected though.”
He didn’t know what it was about you, perhaps the way you gaze at him, but there was something that kept his eyes lingering on yours far longer than normal— something that genuinely lulled him in. Perhaps it was the natural flow of conversation and how even from earlier, you didn’t really feel like a mere customer but instead just a person, a woman at that-, a very pretty woman, might he add.
“You owe me a free drink, remember?” You remind him, earning a different reaction than expected.
Gojo pauses, “Ohh… About that…” He hums, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah see, that offer no longer stands…”
You blink, “I’m not sure I understand…”
He lets out a sigh, then moves to lean forward against the counter, bending down and crossing his arms as he rests on his elbows and comes much closer to your eye level, “Another cute girl came in ‘nd got it before you,” Gojo whispers.
You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and your brows pinch together, “Seriously?”
“Mmhmm,” He hums tauntingly with this smug look on his face as if to say giving away your promised drink was to get back at you for something.
“Well,” You click your tongue, “I think you owe me a free drink now more than before, maybe two.”
Gojo smiles, feeling amused, “Yeah? I mean, my number’s free. Y’want that instead?”
Your voice gets caught in your throat at how ridiculously smooth that was, trying your hardest not to give in and return a smile. “I… What am I supposed to do with that?” You end up asking.
He snickers, “Perhaps text me? Or call? Y’know, the thing you do with phones-“
“Alright smart ass,” You scoff playfully, grinning as you move to pull out your phone, “What’s your number then?”
Gojo smiles triumphantly and extends his hand out, “Here, lemme put it in for ya’.”
You glance at him, eyes meeting and yet another moment passing before you hand him your phone, to which he takes a second to look down at the device in his hands. Then, he enters his number and a contact name for himself.
After which, your cell is quickly returned to you and you look to see what he’s put in. Studying the name closely, you tilt your head, “Satoru?”
“Mhm, tha’s me, sweetheart,” He purrs, moving to rest his cheek against his knuckles.
You look up from your phone, “You want me to call you Satoru?”
Gojo shrugs, “If you don’t mind, yeah.”
“We’re on a first-name basis already?” You tease, eyes narrowing at the man.
“It seems we are,” He utters. His voice was a bit lower with you now, much more casual and playful. “That alright with you, pretty girl?”
Unknowingly, your face flushes, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s fine.”
Gojo lets out a hum, “Good.” Then, the two of you do that thing yet again, peering into one another's eyes, unmoving, nearly frozen and dazed for a moment longer than intended before Gojo snaps out of it by almost awkwardly clearing his throat, “So uh, you still want that free drink or…?”
You blink out of your own stupor and shake your head, “No, I’ll come back for it tomorrow.”
“Oh?” His brows shoot up in surprise, “You’re coming back tomorrow?”
“It seems I am, yes,” A smile graces your face and he can’t help but stare.
Gojo mirrors your expression, “Just for coffee?”
Your eyes wander off to the side cheekily, “Perhaps for a certain handsome cashier too…”
He thinks his heart is fluttering. Is this normal? To experience such a genuine infatuation with a woman’s words within less than twenty-four hours? It was unusual for Gojo, that’s for damn sure. Hence why his head is tipping to the side, “Really? Have my charms worked so soon?” He teases.
You return your gaze to him, “Just a little, yeah.”
Mesmerized by you, Gojo nods, “Good to know.”
“Mhm,” After a slight hum, you glance down at your phone and check the time, “Well uh, I actually have another class so I should probably go.”
“Yes… Yes, you should,” He voices out slowly, again entangled into that daze of his until you lift your head once more, “But uh, make sure you text me later, yeah?” Gojo reminds you.
To which you chuckle and start turning away toward the exit, “No promises.”
He’s left in a mere awe of you, not even knowing what to say, and left utterly speechless from such an intriguing yet simple conversation with you. As you wave bye, Gojo had to feel for his heart the very second you leave just to see if it was working correctly because he’s not sure what the hell that was just now.
Whatever it may have been, he knows it was much more genuine and raw than what he’s typically used to. And it came so naturally too, the banter, the gazes, the flirting… Gojo was longing for more already and he’d only just met you a few hours ago.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
All the while you’re just as cheerful at the interaction you just had, beyond ready to brag to your doubtful best friend of your most recent accomplishments.
Which is exactly why you’re facetiming said friend as soon as you leave the cafe. The call rings for less than a second before it’s answered and you’re met with a visibly displayed and… shirtless Choso.
Before you get the chance to even try and take in his naked torso, he’s already scowling at you, “The fuck are you facetiming me for?” He grumbles, taking the smile right off of your lips, “I’ve seen your face enough for one day. Why don’t you ever call like a normal person??”
You bat your eyelashes at the man, “Cho, we just got on the phone and you’re already souring the mood…”
He ignores your complaint, “What do you want?”
Steadily, your smile returns, “Guess who got a certain someone’s number,” You utter cheerfully, voice light in a little sing-song tone.
Choso gives his phone a blank stare, not saying a single word in response to that.
Which confused you, “Well? Are you gonna guess-“
“You could’ve texted me this shit,” He cuts off before you watch as your screen is soon met with the ceiling as he places his phone down.
You pout, “Well, yeah but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction…”
He scoffs and pops his face into the camera for a second, eyes dull, smile nonexistent, eye bags heavy, and tattoo running across his nose the only thing giving some form of expression despite it being nothing more than a dark black line. “Does it look like I give two shits about you gettin’ some asshole’s number?”
You let out a long sigh, “Remind me why we’re friends again?”
And that’s when Choso seems to smirk, “Cause’ you won’t leave me alone.”
“I’m hanging up,” You groan.
His laughter, albeit somewhat of a rare sound, fills your ears, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
You send him a look, “Are you?”
“Mhm, good job on gettin’ his number, princess,” Choso coos, making your eyes widen, “I’m proud of you.”
Your mouth opens to say something to that but your throat runs oddly dry. Instead, you gulp down his sudden praise and ignore how warm his words make you feel. “…Thank you.” You eventually say.
“Uhuh,” Choso nods before removing himself from the camera again, “Pretty sure he’s just trying to fuck though.” He says bluntly.
Instead of choking like he expected you to, you only scoff, “Fine by me.”
Your best friend is quiet for a moment, feeling almost silenced before he sighs, “Oh… But you told me no-“
“That was entirely different, Choso.” You cut off.
He shuts up again.
“You were drunk, and…” Your voice dies out.
To which he raises a brow at his phone, “And what?”
“And things were different back then,” You sigh, trying not to recall the entirety of your past with Choso at the present moment, “…You were an even bigger asshole, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Choso sighs, moving to dismiss the topic, “Anyway, let me know how things go with your new albino boyfriend.”
You scoff, smiling at the suggestion itself, “He’s not even my-“ 
The call disconnects. Oh how you just love your best friend and his antics. You wouldn’t trade your friendship with him for anything.
Or at least, that’s what you told yourself anyway. What exactly does a new man in your life bring if not drama? This right here was but the beginning of a very interesting journey toward such a fickle emotion we know as; love.
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Tags 1/2; @siriusblackswankourtzeyy @eternaltpaoe @moonsgravee @sooshisweet @looking4hina
@blognicole @designerpvssy @andyfasia @shytragedybluefox @papigotwap
@senseifupa @gojoslefttoenail @juliiizh @gojos-cumslutt @lovergirl65
@sydlunamoon-blog @gojstrulxvezx @gigiipeaches @kivrumi @urunclesbottomlip
@iseeyouuu @annieleonhardtsbitch @lwkykiyo @itsbellablue-blog @gorouenjoyer
@mua-for-now @bee3l0v3r @scarletteyuno @lilablogsblog @lolznoelle
@madaqueue @keriaonmarz @parakisssss @aniniyah @trx-xrt
@sxnkuna @chocolatecheer @unibrow-yzz @lovely-lady-tits @woofzz2
@pineapplepan7 @janrcrosssing @hauntedchoso @linksylove @lemonninq
@littlemug00 @namjoonie17717 @notjustagirlinthisworld @moonneversleeps @k4rma1sntd3ad
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afterglowsainz · 2 months
Text
so it goes… | carlos sainz
summary: carlos has the biggest crush on the famous up and coming actress but she doesn’t know who he is
fc: anya taylor-joy
warnings: this is my first smau so plsss tell me what you think <3 i made it a bit long cause i’m use to write detailed stories but is worth it i swear!! also english is not my first language so there might be mistakes
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liked by carlossainz55, bffusername and others
ynusername life lately 🧚🏼‍♀️
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user1 she’s so pretty ughhh
user2 y/n please give me just once chance i’m beggin
user3 simping respectfully
carlossainz55 que linda! (so pretty!)
user4 hello??
user5 ariana what are you doing here 😭
bffusername literally my wife 😮‍💨
ynusername me and you forever 🤭
user6 mother
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liked by bffusername, charlesleclerc and others
carlossainz55 great weekend all in all 🏆 podium and good points for the team, ready for the next! 🔜
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user4 let’s gooo smooth operator‼️
user7 forza ferrari 🐎
charlesleclerc great job! double podium next race 👊🏼
user8 brilliant drive carlos!!
user9 VAMOOOOS (let’s go)
user5 okay we see y/n’s best friend in the likes 👀
user10 i think she’s a ferrari fan!
landonorris congrats on the podium or whatever 🙄
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ynusername emma is now on streaming platforms !!! go watch it 🫶🏽
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user1 and they call her the it girl !!!
user2 favorite movie of the year 💞
user3 y/n y/l/n future oscar winner‼️
bffusername GO WATCH MY WIFE’S MOVIE OR ELSE
ynusername you heard her!
carlossainz55 loved the movie!
user4 okay but are we believing he actually saw a romantic period piece or?? 🤨
user5 idk why i kinda believe it solely on the fact that he’s obsessed with y/n 😭
user6 i don’t see the appeal, she’s not all that :/
user4 now i know you did NOT just said that about THE Y/N Y/L/N
user7 y/n drop another movie i’ve already seen this one a thousand times :( (liked by carlossainz55)
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ynusername italian nights 🧿
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bffusername my girlfriend the prettiest of prettiest 🥰
user1 picture at a church and partying with måneskin? ohhh she’s cool cool
user2 carlos i understand you completely
carlossainz55 beautiful!
ynusername thank you! 💕
user3 omg did she actually??
user4 somebody make sure carlos is still alive and breathing pls
user5 finally! my boy has been in the trenches for monthsss
landonorris 👀
user6 now lando what do you know??
(ynusername has started following carlossainz55)
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carlossainz55 summer break 🏁
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user1 well hello there
user2 weird way to ask me to marry you but ofc🤭
user3 not carlos immediately posting a thirst trap after yn followed him 😭
user4 thirst trap seems a bit much…
user3 him just casually posting the most earth shattering hottest pictures out of nowhere??
user4 okay you may have a point
user5 post a warning or something next time jesus
user6 I AM ON MY KNEES PLEASE
user7 dinner would be served, house would be cleaned, kids on bed, anything he wants
ynusername 🥰 (liked by carlossainz55)
carlossainz55 🫶🏽
user8 girl me too
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yourusername beautiful beautiful madrid 🤍
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user1 omg you’re in my city!!!
user2 someone send this to carlos quick!
user3 you’re so beautiful 😻
user4 carlossainz55 my guy this is your chance
user5 you’re STUNNING 🤩
carlossainz55 i need to show you all the nice places🫶🏽 (liked by yourusername)
yourusername omg please!! i need a local tour guide
carlossainz55 😊
user6 omg is this the beginning of something???
user7 i’m shipping them already 🤭
user8 someone check on carlos please‼️
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