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poptartzz2 · 1 year

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⋱⟡ Hot Cocoa ✩ Miguel O'hara ⟡⋰

❀ Read this before you begin! ❀

For those of you who enjoy reading on Ao3, it’s posted here

✩⟡∵⋰ Synopsis: Getting snowed in with your friend is one thing, but getting snowed in with a gorgeous and horny man like Miguel O’hara is an entirely different ball game. It’s one you’ll have to navigate after grabbing a lovely sip of Hot Cocoa.

✩⟡∵⋰ Pairing: Miguel O’hara x fem!reader

✩⟡∵⋰ Warnings: 18+/ MDNI; little bit of flowery language

✩⟡∵⋰ Contains: Friends to lovers, slight fluff and angst, NSFW, mentions of cheek clapping and other sexual references , homie cops some feels lol

✩ Miguel’s thoughts are in purple

✩ Your thoughts are in pink

✩⟡∵⋰ A/N: I’m so nervous to post this, I hope ya likey (٥⁀▽⁀ )

Coffee. Java. Frappuccino. Dolce. Mocha. Ristretto. These are just a few of the names that belong to the different brews you prepare each and every day.

Tall. Muscular. Quiet. Intense. Amusing. These are just a few of the qualities that belong to a peculiar customer you get the chance to interact with daily.

Miguel is his name. Miguel O’hara.

That’s the name of the man who enters your safe haven each and every morning, with a quiet and intoxicating energy, ten am on the dot, every single time.

He orders the same simple beverage every visit, sitting in the same peaceful spot resting beside the shop’s window, and he remains quiet every month. Untouched. Unbothered.

Well, scratch that. Something about this man feels familiar to you. When you get the pleasure of taking his order and having pleasant conversations with him, you find a sorrowful look in his eyes. It’s the kind of haunted look you’ve seen staring back at you in your own mirror each day, each month, every year.

His eyes. They’re red in hue, beautifully rich in emotion, hungry, and longing for something. These are the pair of eyes you get to look into everyday, and today was no different.

Or so you thought.

After a series of startling and bone chilling events, you’d find this gorgeous man’s gaze, your friend’s gaze, transform into something you’ve never seen before.

One that’s hungry for something he didn’t think he’d be able to have again. That something is you.

A beautiful woman who he has grown to enjoy and who he loves spending time with. Yours. His. All for the taking, after grabbing a comforting sip of hot cocoa.

↞✯ 。 .・☼・. 。✯↠

Today has been awfully chilly, however, that’s always good news for you.

Despite having to deal w/ freezing temperatures in your room, that peacefully rests above the shop, snowy days typically mean you get a day off.

Don’t get me wrong, you love the art of coffee making, but a day with less work is always nice. A win is a win, especially when you're the only one on shift today.

This means you’ll have less picky customers to deal with, and you’ll have the chance to enjoy one particular customer more easily.

In fact, when you happen to look up from making some dope latte art, you easily spot him strutting into the shop, making a beeline towards you.

Keep your cool, girly. Keep it chill. All puns intended.

“Hey Miggy, how are you today? Up for something new?” you brightly question, as the handsome man greets you.

This is the first time you’ve called him Miggy. You’d like to think that the two of you have grown to be friends (at the very least), but perhaps calling him this would make him uncomfortable, especially since you typically call him Miguelito.

However, as he stares back at you, you find his brows slightly jumping, and eyes widening but only for a moment, just to be replaced by a soft, sweet, and rare smile, that gently tugs on the corners of his mouth.

A mouth, you had never watched before, with a set of teeth you had never seen before. Sharp in shape, white as snow, warring for the attention that the beautiful snowflakes dancing outside, easily bring.

“Hi sweetheart, now that you mention it, I think I’d like to try something new today. Do you have any recommendations?” Miguel softly asks, as his eyes shyly avoid your own, while he moves to rifle through his wallet.

A wallet filled with memories baked in from the life he once had. The life he misses dearly, and the life he believed he’d never taste again.

As he listens to you speak now, his heart is in search of something tasty, flavorfully reminding him of his daughter Gabriela, and the fun and playful drinks she loved to get.

Thankfully, you give him a place of solace, and a peace of mind with one drink he can’t pass on trying.

“The final item I’d recommend is our “White Strawberry Coco-Moco”. I know it sounds interesting to say the least, but I think it’d be wonderful for today, especially since it’s been snowing for hours now. It’s the perfect thing to keep you warm.”

I can think of a few other things that would easily keep me warm involving you…

Oh no, it’s happening. Just shut up please, not right now.

“I know it’s been ordered quite a bit and if I’m being honest, it’s some of the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted. I-“

Before you can even finish describing the drink, Miguel happily goes with what you’ve offered.

He knows if Gabi were here, she’d be so excited to try it. So he has to get it, in memory of her, and because you recommended it.

“I’m sold. As you know I drink the same damn thing everyday, so why not change things up a bit? And like you said, it’s quite chilly today with the snow, so I’ll go for it. I know anything you make will keep me warm.” he says, as he fishes out his debit card.

The next thing he says, comes more quietly and is nearly undetected.

“You’re so talented with this coffee thing sweetheart, everything you make tastes absolutely beautiful… just like you. You’re so beautiful.” Miguel softly cloaks under his breath, as he finally meets your eyes.

Looking at him once more, you find yourself melting, just for a moment under his fiery gaze.

Did he really just say that? Looking like that? Oh my…

As you once this man over, your eyes begin drinking in every ounce of his presence and style.

You find it all too easy to gawk at his long and slimming black trench coat, that’s accompanying a dark & tightly fit cable knit sweater, who’s turtle neck collar accentuates his gorgeous facial structure, and accents a lot of muscles you’ve never noticed before.

Or at least that’s what you like to tell yourself, when that’s far from the truth. Here’s the reality:

Anytime Miguel walks into a room, it’s as if everything is drawn to attention; charmed and demanded to look at him.

This means you’ve had zero issues with taking account of this man’s muscles, piercings, his height, amongst many, many other things. Very interesting things.

Things are clearly no different now.

Lowering your head in an attempt to mask your nerves in front of your lovely friend, you don’t hesitate to have a little fun with him in hopes of recovering.

Surely he didn’t think he could just say those things under his breath without any repercussions right?

“Excuse me Miggy? I didn’t quite catch that. What was that last bit you just said? Something about beauty?” you playfully ask.

“Huh? What? Oh nothing. Just that hot cocoa will definitely keep me warm because it’s so… beautiful..like you said.” Miguel painfully murmurs, as he struggles to confidently meet your gaze.

What the hell was that ? No puedo…

Nodding your head with a soft smile, you easily shake off your nerves as they’re replaced by sweet laughter, and you begin making his drink.

Little did you know, Miguel wasn’t planning on going out today. Considering the weather, he thought it’d be best to stay at home. However, at the sight of your face flashing across his vision, he easily changed his mind.

And how dare he try to ruin the tradition? The lovely tradition he’s kept up for over a year might I add. Where he comes in every single day, relaxes, gets some work done, people watches, and gets to spend time with you.

Sometimes when you’re on your break, he’ll buy you lunch and the two of you will enjoy the afternoon together. It’s something the both of you so desperately need.

Miguel also enjoys tipping you, whether you’re the one ringing him up or making his drink. No matter what you’re doing, he will tip you. He appreciates your sweet conversations, and you’re the only person who can make his drink just the way he likes.

When someone else makes his stuff, he pays you extra, as if he’s begging you to make it instead next time.

While Miguel waits for this new and exciting drink to be prepared, he notices something odd, but sensible. Considering he enjoys people watching, it’s no surprise he’s caught the lack of customers in the shop today.

In fact, as minutes and minutes begin to pass, he not only finds the shop emptying itself, but he also catches the shift in weather and temperature.

Watching as the beautiful and gentle snowflakes outside swiftly begin to turn into a heavy torrent of wind and ice, Miguel feels a sudden urgency to get back home. Especially when he remembers he forgot to do something important.

As in life threatening important.

I wanted to sit and chat with YN today, but I don’t want to get caught in this storm. Wait. You've gotta be kidding me.

I forgot to take it this morning. I really can't stay now.

I need it. If I don’t have anything in my system, I’m afraid of what I’ll do or who I’ll become. Getting stuck in here means I’d have to go without the serum, and that’s not good for anyone, especially YN.

But I can’t leave her here alone, not in this weather. Damn it…

While you finish preparing his drink, and one for yourself too since you’ll be going on break, you just so happen to catch a glimpse of what Miguel is staring at so intently, and you instantly pause.

In the time it took for you to make two simple drinks, the whole world outside your little comfy home, turned white. Completely white.

As you further look around the shop, you realize no one else is here besides yourself and Miguel. Everyone is gone.

Happily lost in thought over your friend, and your enjoyment of making this chocolate delicacy, you easily missed the snapping change in weather.

While you move to place Miguel’s drink in an interestingly cute coffee mug, and finish garnishing it with sweet toppings, the lights above you begin to flicker, the wind suddenly begins to violently howl, appliances clatter, and the warmth in the room instantly vanishes.

POP. POP.

Immediately jumping at the loud noise of electric friction, you quickly sigh when the lights dramatically go out, and as the room grows stark in silence. Just like that, everything is out. Everything has left you.

Warmth. Joy. Electricity. Customers, and so much more. Gone, in the blink of an eye.

Funny enough, people and things swiftly leaving you behind isn’t something new or foreign in your life, or in Miguel’s.

Just as Miguel has lost people in his life, you too have lost people that you’ve held close to your heart. Some of them are gone because of you, and that’s a guilt you’ll never be able to shake.

That’s one of the reasons why Miguel and yourself have become friends, despite his initial rough and bold disposition.

Underneath that rocky exterior, that’s battering with the world beating up against him and a boatload of grief, there’s a man with a soft interior. A man with a shattered heart that's slowly being put together again, by you of course.

With the popping of the light fixtures, and the whirring and buzzing of the coffee machines coming to a halt, heavy clicks of suede booted footsteps come walking towards you.

As a large arm suddenly leans against the order pick up counter, you breathe a sigh of relief. Having Miguel here right now couldn’t be more perfect.

The last thing you would need or want, is to be left in this shop, cold and all alone.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

“Nice weather we’re having hm?” Miguel asks, as his playful question shockingly warms the air. Instantly smiling, you eagerly respond.

“Oh it’s absolutely gorgeous. Who doesn’t love a freezing winter day with nothing to keep you warm?” you brightly say, as you come from behind your workspace, and peel off your apron.

Or at least you’re trying to.

Before he even has the words to respond to, Miguel slowly begins to walk towards you, as his eyes never leave your frame.

All this time, he’d been watching you, intently listening to words drip off your tongue, attentively watching your smile, and closely looking in places he shouldn’t be.

Considering this, he found it all too easy to see you struggling with the apron tightly wrapped around your waist. A waist Miguel often thinks about squeezing, holding, roughly gripping, etcetera, etcetera.

Abruptly feeling a large presence hover behind you now, your body grows stiff and your mind begins to scatter.

Your friend doesn’t help you to feel any differently, especially as his breath slowly dances across your ear, humming a melody you’d never thought you’d hear, which easily sends a tingling sensation down your spine.

“Let me help you with that sweetheart…” Miguel breathily smiles into you, as he gently steadies one of his hands against your waist, before moving to loosen the bow tightly woven behind you.

As he masterfully removes your apron for you, your thoughts are frozen on what just happened. Even after a year of spending time with Miguel, not once had you ever experienced this.

A moment where the line between friend and “I wanna fuck you” grows awfully thin. A moment, where you could visibly and audibly encounter Miguel purposefully leaving you breathless.

One moment he’s quietly complimenting you under his breath, and the next he’s doing this. What in tarnation is going on…

Completely acting as if nothing happened, this man finally responds to what you said, as he remains closely behind you.

“Woah, who said you didn’t have anything to keep you warm? Are you cold right now? I can certainly help with that.” Miguel smiles deviously, as he lowers himself to gently and ever so slowly, wrap those large and calloused hands of his around your waist.

Badump. Badump.

Your heart beats faster.

Badump. Badump.

His strong arms pull you closer.

As you now lie against Miguel, his head moves to rest against your shoulder and into the warmth of your neck, while you both sweetly sit in a peaceful silence, and comforting embrace.

Until you fully come to recognize what’s happening right now.

As soon as you realize it all, in panic mode, you swiftly remove yourself from his touch, and nervously turn around to meet his gaze.

There’s absolutely no way this man is acting like this. He’s never been so..what can you call it? Amorous. He’s never once touched or held you like this before, especially with such longing and affection.

Simply because you’ve been friends.

Friends.

What a beautifully painful word, imprinted and engraved on your relationship with Miguel. A word you desperately wish could be washed away and replaced by something else. By something more.

Frantically trying to process this all, you need a way to escape, just for a moment.

Easily thinking of something on the fly, you thank the brutal blizzard for its handiwork, leaving you in need of warmth and light.

“Ah- thank you for that Miggy. Um- I actually have a few candles and blankets upstairs, do you mind if I go grab them for us really fast?” you nervously say, vaguely avoiding his maroon dressed gaze.

“Candles? Blankets? What are you up to sweetheart, trying to wine and dine me?” Miguel softly smiles, as his lids grow heavy and his voice silky smooth, thick and heavy, weighted with a lust for more of you.

Hearing him now, you’re completely baffled. Don’t get it twisted, wining and dining is the least of what you’d like to do with Miguel, but who is he right now? The Rizzler?

Once again trying to hide your startledness, your playful side comes to aid you in your mission.

“You wish that were the case, don’t you Miggy? Or surely you’d like to be more than wined and dined? Besides, it's not even evening yet, so don’t be ridiculous. But seriously though, I want you to be okay; it’s freezing in here. Do you mind if I go and grab them from my room?” you ask.

Miguel slightly pauses at your statement of 'you wish'. Somewhere deep inside, your kindness has warmed his frosted heart, and much like the storm outside, he was heading down a dark path before he met you.

You are his candle that helps him to see when things get dark. You’re his blanket that keeps him warm on nights when the cold wind of grief and anger seizes his breath and thoughts.

Sometimes there are nights when Miguel lies restless in his bed, with no one to comfort him, with nothing to woo him back to sleep.

Those are the moments when his phone lights up with a call from you, his solecito, his lovely little sun.

With seemingly perfect timing, whether it’s late at night, or early in the morning, whenever he’s in need of comfort, you’re right there with him. Calming him down, encouraging him, and reminding him that everything will be okay. Of course, he doesn't hesitate to do the same thing for you.

Talking for hours on end, smiling, laughing and getting to know one another better, you often communicate like this. Whether it’s over the phone or standing face to face, like you are now.

Even if Miguel said yes to your inquiry, he wouldn’t need any of those items. He has you and that’s all he needs. You’re all he’ll ever need.

Yes you may be friends, but at times when he finds himself thinking about you and wishing he were with you, wishing he were inside of you, those are the moments when he dreams of being more.

More than just a man from the coffee shop. More than just a friend you can spend time with. He wants to be called yours, which is something he’d never thought he’d be able to experience again, but he’s not surprised you’re the reason why he feels this way.

“Hello? Miguel, are you there?” you ask out of curiosity, as the man gets lost in thought.

“Ah yeah, lo siento. Feel free to, and actually let me help you with that.” he softly says, with the rubbing of his neck.

“Oh okay, thank you.” You say, trying to mask your worry. You needed to get away, and now you’ve single handedly invited this man to come following after you, up to your room. A room you don’t want him to ever see.

Ignoring this though, you just suck it up and let Miguel help you.

What could possibly go wrong?

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

“Alright, let’s go then. I know I told you I lived upstairs, but I realized I haven’t given you a grand tour yet. Don’t worry though, there isn’t much to see…anything that’s good anyway” the last bit you whisper under your breath, with vague enthusiasm, which Miguel easily hears.

Unbeknownst to you, he can detect lots of sounds with his extra enhanced senses, due to his genetic makeup. Nothing will easily slip past him, and sometimes this comes with a cost.

There are too many situations to recall, where Miguel often finds his mind drifting into forbidden spaces when he’s around you. Especially when he can hear your heart racing like crazy in his presence.

It leads him to think about certain activities that might leave you a little winded and thoughtless….

Activities he has to keep himself from imagining, for both your sakes, simply because there’s that beautiful line of friendship he can’t cross, even though he so desperately wants to.

He’d love nothing more than to keep that pretty heart of yours beating just for him, in ways you’ve never imagined.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

As you two head upstairs, Miguel instantly sees what you’re talking about.

Considering he’s such a large man, walking and moving in this cramped space is quite difficult and it causes him to direct his attention towards you. You’re so sweet. So compassionate. Very Grateful.

With the limited area and items you have in your living space, “your room” is more like a glorified closet, and yet he’s never heard you complain about it, not once.

He knows he would, if he were you.

Fascinated that you never grope or say anything negative about your circumstances, he finds it’s because you’re too busy caring for others and trying to be a goofball. He loves that about you.

“Ack I apologize you have to see this. I'm not typically messy but things can get a little disorganized to say the least.” you nervously chuckle, as you painfully allow him to see where you live.

With things scattered across your floor, and sprawled across your bed, you feel terribly embarrassed. On the one day you decide to let your room be a little messy, a friend you find extremely hot, walks in and gets to see everything in all its glory.

Wonderful. Absolutely Wonderful.

Praying and hoping that things will be okay, Miguel thankfully reassures you while you go fishing out your candles, candlesticks, lighter, and blankets.

“Don’t worry about that mi solecito, you’re just fine. So fucking fine…” Miguel softly says, with a hidden smile as he now leans against your doorframe and watches you from behind.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

While you are moving around your room, in search of everything you need, you easily miss Miguel glancing around as well, while he patiently waits for you.

In his waiting, he just so happens to spot a poorly hidden, and very large object.

It’s bright in color, long, thick, round in shape, and laying right next to your bed… the bed you've laid in, spending nights and nights thinking about Miguel.

Curious about it, but not that curious, he quickly tries to avert his attention from the doodad, but it’s too late as he comes to fully recognize what it is. Although it's wrapped in a silk cloth and barely tucked away in your nightstand drawer, there's no denying what it is.

There's no denying what it's been used for. There's no denying who uses it, and why they choose to. There’s no denying how it makes you feel.

There's also no denying how it makes Miguel feel about you at the sight of it.

That look that he always has in his eyes? The hunger and longing? It's growing now. His eyes are no longer that deep shade of maroon they once were.

At the sight of this object, his eyes discard the once dark hue, and truly begin flashing a dangerous tone of scarlet instead.

Fuck. Me. Why did I have to see this? Now of all times? Today of all days? When I didn’t take it?

When I can’t hold on much longer to this friendship we have? Why now?

Miguel’s recognition and confirmation of what the item is only grows, once he sees your face.

After catching him looking in the direction of where you keep a very personal and pleasurable object, unable to hide it or hide your own self, the only thing you can do is emptily look towards the floor.

With your eyes wide, and lashes slowly fluttering, you can’t breathe. You can’t move. There’s no way this man just saw it. Once again, of all the people that could’ve seen this, it just had to be Miguel of course.

As heat quickly jets across your face, you quickly turn back towards your belongings and focus on grabbing everything you’ll need.

While you do this, Miguel is focusing on your heartbeat.

Here it is again, beating fast in the heat of a moment. A moment where he has caught you being someone he never thought you’d be, doing things he never thought you’d do.

However, it does leave him pleased.

Suddenly feeling a familiar urge creep up within himself, Miguel tries to take deep breaths, as images begin to soar across his mind at the thought of you using your lovely object, and who you thought of while you using it.

Feeling his canines ache, feeling his body grow warm despite the temperature, and feeling his vision begin to shift, he knows he needs to calm himself down but it’s difficult. It’s hard. He’s hard, and there’s only a matter of time before you notice it.

Seeing your “little”…friend, has this man falling apart, especially with the lack of serum in his system, called “Delight”.

Delight isn’t Rapture, but it’s similar enough and he takes it daily. He absolutely needs it, and he can’t go without it.

Delight keeps him from ravaging someone, and not in a gory way, but a sensual one.

It works as a calming agent, taming the hunger that stems from his genetic makeup as Spiderman, along with cooling the symptoms that come with it. However, it isn’t an antidote.

The antidote will give him complete relief, and prevent the hunger from consuming and controlling him. He often needs Delight and the antidote together to be in a good place.

Hunger Symptoms

Increased sexual desire

Increase in sensitivity

Shift in personality/ Bro gets devious

Lack of self control

Aching canines

Increased body heat

Being hard for long periods of time→ not fun at all

The antidote to completely calm his symptoms and satisfy his hunger for the day, is the act of indulging in anything that brings him sexual relief.

Miguel has always had to relieve himself from the symptoms and hunger, simply because it can get difficult to do anything with and without Delight.

Sometimes this means jerking off, or in the past, it meant inviting a lovely woman, or not so lovely (he didn’t care, his body didn’t care. He just needed relief) over to his place.

When he has Delight in his system, no matter the amount, all he needs is something small, simple, and quick. Something as light as foreplay can do the trick to help him feel better.

However, when he doesn’t have anything in his system at all, that’s when things get dangerous. This is when his symptoms and hunger go on x games mode.

When Delight is completely absent from his body, Miguel needs everything, and he needs to feel it all, or else the hunger will consume him.

Foreplay won’t cut it. The only thing that can satisfy and satiate him is intense and powerful movement. Penetration. He needs to feel it. He has to be inside. He needs skin to slap and pound against, a neck to bite, hair to pull, and places to suck, lick and fuck.

He needs his leading lady to climax and release, or the hunger will consume him.

This means that it’s not over until you cum, and not just by any means. You have to cum with his cock alone, and nothing else. No fingers used, no toys allowed. Just him and him alone.

As you have already witnessed, on top of being mega horny, Miguel will begin to transform into someone else when Delight isn’t present in his system.

While he tends to be more thoughtful, reserved, and well composed, he will grow to be more cocky, more bold, and more seductive.

As previously stated, bro gets devious. Not giving a rat’s ass about what flows out of his mouth, he says whatever comes to mind.

If his words leave you a flustered mess, then so be it.

↞✯ 。 .・☼・. 。✯↠

As you awkwardly grab everything you need, it seems too easy to pretend like nothing happened, and so you do.

Skipper from Madagascar said it best, “You didn’t see anything”, and you proudly embrace this phrase in order to keep yourself together. Miguel didn’t see it, and neither did you.

“Here we are! I've got a few vanilla scented candles I bought, which smell absolutely delicious, and these warm and fuzzy blankets I love!”you say brightly in hopes of masking your embarrassment.

“Do you mind-“ Before the question can even fall out of your mouth, Miguel begins to take everything you grabbed into his arms and heads back downstairs. He doesn’t leave you to carry one item.

He also doesn’t speak or give you eye contact.

While you believe it’s because of what he noticed in your room, it’s actually because of what he noticed going on in you and in himself.

Trying to avoid your scent, your smile, your bright eyes, your laugh, it’s all impossible because he’s stuck here in his favorite shop, snowed in with you. No way of escape. Zero traces of Delight in his system. Time is running down.

He has no idea what he’s going to do, and neither do you.

As you stand in shock for just a moment's notice, you quickly think about the interactions that just took place and you wonder where Miggy’s head is at.

Considering the both of you have hot Cocoa waiting for you, and nothing to do, it would be a perfect time to figure that out.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

When you go back downstairs, you find Miguel with his jacket off, all the candles lit, and find him waiting for you with blankets and hot Cocoa filled mugs in hand.

He oddly did that extremely fast, but you put it behind you.

Awkwardly creeping into his space, you're wondering what's going on right now.

With the air feeling thick and cold, tense and awkward, your words are easily getting caught in your throat and your mind is easily getting caught in the trap of replaying what happened in your room.

However, that's not the only thing your brain is rehearsing.

Miguel seeing your dildo wasn't an issue just because of his relationship with you. It was also an issue because of what you've done with the object.

After seeing Miguel and watching him painfully tear his gaze away from the toy, you were reminded of every guilty thought, noise, and touch that came along with the dildo's usage.

Everytime you used it, everytime you got yourself ready, you only had one person on your mind.

One person on your mind, who your mind and body ached for, who's voice and touch your core dripped for. Miguel. That’s who.

Remembering all the times you allowed your imagination to take flight, all the positions you used, and all the noises that were made, you can't help but feel embarrassed, flustered, hot, and incredibly horny, especially because the person you constantly fantasize about is right here in front of you.

Just a step away. Just one belt unbuckling away. Just one kiss away. Just one fuck away. That alone is too much. Too nerve wracking.

You can’t run from him now, and you can’t hide. There’s no escape.

You have to face all of your fantasies and come to terms with what he just saw. You have to face it all…but you cast it aside and try to forget everything.

What a terrible idea.

As the room grows awfully quiet, reality truly sets in.

You're snowed in and alone with the man who always leaves your heart racing and mind pacing. You’re snowed in with the friend you’d like to fuck, but can’t do anything with.

Whatever shall you do?

↞✯ 。 .・☼・. 。✯↠

As you and Miguel move to sit down, you awkwardly head towards the sectional couch resting by the shop’s largest window.

While he gets comfortable and seated in one area, you make sure to remain in another, far away from him.

Fortunately for you, you’ll find out this is yet another terrible idea.

As you begin to cuddle up with your favorite blanket and begin sipping on your hot chocolate, you suddenly feel Miguel’s gaze burning into you.

With heat lovingly caressing your body at the sight of his eyes trained onto you, you really wish he’d look somewhere else, at anything else.

If you keep it up, I might pounce on you, and I can’t do that.

So please spare me, and take your fine ass somewhere else. Look anywhere else but at me. I beg you.

As if hearing your inner monologue, you find Miguel chuckling, and suddenly pausing for a brief moment. His chest stops moving, his fingers stop tapping, and a muffled sound erupts from deep within himself.

Looking over at him out of curiosity, you find he’s got his face buried in his hand now, as he leans against the edge of the couch.

“Fuck.” you hear him curse under his breath, as you watch his free hand begin to violently grip the couch.

“Hey…are you okay Miguel?” You cautiously inquire, as you walk over and softly place your drink down on the coffee table nearby.

With one hand still buried in his face, and the other clawing up the furniture, he says absolutely nothing. The only thing you can hear are ragged and desperate breaths that are now overwhelming his body.

Heavily concerned at this point, you move to step closer to him. You’ve never seen him act like this, and you want to make sure he’s okay.

As you do, he puts his hand out to stop you.

“Don’t. Don’t- I’m fine solecito. Thank you-but I’m okay” Miguel murmurs, with frequent pauses and furrowed brows.

Slowly nodding your head in response, you head back towards your spot.

“Okay..” you silently say. However, as you give Miguel one look over before you go, your eyes land on this odd strain in his trousers.

Watching in amazement as it grows tighter and larger by every passing moment, you don’t know what to do, especially since this bulge is absolutely massive.

You know what this is. You know what’s happening, but you don’t know how to handle it. What the hell is going on with him today? Clearly Miguel is not okay….

Deciding to once again ignore it all, you finally grab your cocoa once more and sit back down, getting extra comfy with your blanket, as you tightly grip its fabric.

You need help or you’re gonna lose it.

As you take another swig of your drink as a scapegoat from this very awkward moment, you'll find there is no escape.

Things just keep getting more and more interesting to say the least, and that line we talked about earlier? The cute little friendship line? Yeah, that's getting thinner now.

࠾᛫⁖✯⁖𐫴࠾

“I know you saw it YN, you don’t have to pretend.” Miguel bluntly says, as his breathing steadies and his muscles relax.

Startled, you easily find yourself choking on your drink now.

Leaving you no time to recover, as you get up to put your mug down once again, in your coughing fit, you suddenly feel something slap against your back.

Before you know it, you’re flying backwards into the couch, and right into Miguel’s lap.

Trying to process what the hell is happening, your lovely friend easily brings your focus elsewhere and onto more important matters. Matters that are growing larger, more painful, and more urgent as time passes.

Bringing your focus onto matters that you’ve both dreamt about. Fantasized about.

As you now rest in Miguel’s lap, a place you’ve never been in before, your body easily begins to speak before your mouth can.

Feeling his thighs underneath your own, feeling your back pressed into his, and feeling his arms wrap around your waist, you naturally get comfortable and sink into his touch.

As he now begins to gently caress your sides, you suddenly feel his breath cascade across your neck, and feel his silky voice reach your ears once again.

“You honestly didn’t think I’d let you sit that far away from me did you? When you look this beautiful? How cute...” he grins into you.

“I know you feel it now too YN. Don’t you want the real thing sweetheart? I promise it’s better than your cute little toy.” Miguel breathily whispers, as you abruptly feel his teeth begin to nibble, and his lips begin to gently kiss on your ear.

With hearing “cute little toy”, along with feeling Miguel do all of these things to you, things he’s never done before, your mind is in shock.

Little? LITTLE?! No…no way it’s far from little. Does that mean you’re bigger than-

Unable to compute all of the things happening right now, Miguel doesn’t help with that.

He just keeps on getting lost and lost in you, and how much he wants you. How much he wants to be inside of you. How much he wants to be with you.

Without Delight in his system, he’s beginning to crack and things are only just starting to heat up. Of course he doesn’t refrain from letting you know this, by showing you of course.

Actions are far better than words aren’t they?

Continuing to whisper in your ear, Miguel sends you further and further into the struggle zone, as your heart begins to flutter, and as your core grows warm.

You’ve wanted this man for so long, but you’ve kept those feelings on a tight leash outside of some interesting activities of course. Now that this is happening though, you’re unsure of what to do.

Is this real? Is the sweet and reserved man you’ve known this entire year still here? Or has this been him all along, just buried and hidden away from you?

As you sit in his lap a little while longer, Miguel easily gives you the answers you’ve been looking for.

“All those pretty little things you’ve dreamed of at night YN? All the thoughts and ideas you’ve fucked yourself to? They can become your reality sweetheart. Right here, and right now.”

“I know you think of me when you have your little fun, don’t you YN? Tell me what you think about when you ride it, when you bounce up and down on it, when you pound and sink into it. Tell me…” Miguel smiles into you, as he continues rubbing your sides.

Completely baffled now, your mind grows fuzzy at the remembrance of everything you just tried to forget.

Whispering “Miguel” is the only thing you can manage to do before he easily picks you up, turns you around, and presses you down into his lap, as your legs straddle his own.

Looking into his eyes now, you find they’re a brilliant red you’ve never seen before, a red that could rival even the brightest star in the sky.

As the both of you remain close to one another, with shared breath and mouths only centimeters apart, you suddenly wrap your arms around your friend’s neck.

You then ask him a question. Before anything happens, you need some answers, simply because you have no idea what’s going on right now.

“Miguel…are you okay? I’ve never seen you like this before, where you’re-“

“Where I’m what? Fucking hard for you? Where I’m clawing at this damn couch, trying my best not to kiss you, not to sink my cock into you, not to love you?”

“Well if that’s the case, then you better get used to this. I can’t hold it back anymore. I don’t want to be your friend anymore, I wanna be yours. I simply want you. Every inch, every curve. I want to touch all of you, to taste all of you, but I can’t unless you want this too. Unless you want me too.” Miguel achingly and breathily whispers into you.

Completely baffled, your heart begins to race even more than it already has, and your face instantly grows more warm.

You can't believe it. You truly can’t believe what you’re hearing, even if you’ve been dying to receive these words from Miguel fucking O’hara all this time.

Responding back to the best of your abilities, you let him know where you’re at.

“Oh trust me, I’ve wanted this for so long. I just didn't know if it was okay. If having feelings like this for you was ever okay.”

“I mean who could resist somebody like you…with those gorgeous eyes, and these lovely muscles? I just didn't want to ruin our friendship.” you nervously mumble.

As Miguel deeply gazes into your eyes for a few moments, he looks and feels you over all at once.

Finally, he has the woman he deeply cares about and wants so badly, right here in his arms. She’s underneath his touch, telling him exactly what his body has been yearning to hear. Exactly what his heart has been yearning to hear.

It only makes him more hungry and more eager to be with you.

Look at you all hot and bothered, feeling warmer than the sun.

My poor solecito, I’ll have to fix that for you. Although, I don’t think what I have in store for you will cool you down one bit…

Now easing your mind, and completely erasing that line of friendship that’s laid in the sand for far too long, Miguel dips his toes into the ocean of intimacy, and intertwines his fingers with yours, so that you can both step into the deep.

Even though he wants to be rough with you, he craves being gentle and slow with your body and mind even more, so that he can savor every touch, every breath, every noise, every scratch, and plenty more.

“Well now you know. It’s more than okay to feel this way sweetheart. Can I kiss those pretty lips of yours now? You can choose which ones you’d like for me to taste…” Miguel smiles as you both woozily look into one another’s eyes.

Smiling right back at him, your noses begin to softly intertwine as you say one last thing.

“You can taste both, Miguelito.” you softly grin.

As your mouths move to meet now, a loud crash is heard from upstairs and your lips never touch.

Startled by the sound of glass shattering and the loud howl of rushing wind, Miguel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling your body underneath his chin.

As snow begins to flow throughout the shop, the flames of your candles easily blow out, leaving the only warmth in the room resting between you and Miguel.

He doesn’t know what’s happening right now, but his primal instinct is built on protecting you and keeping you safe, especially as he hears footsteps dash across the creaky floor upstairs.

With his senses on high alert now, especially with the absence of Delight in his system, Miguel’s heart is beating faster, his hearing is growing more crisp, and his mind is feeling sharper, as he awaits the moment he can go and check things out.

Abruptly smelling a scent he hasn’t encountered before, Miguel takes that as his sign to move.

Leaving a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead, he tenderly places you out of his lap and onto the couch.

“I’ll be back sweetheart, stay here.” Miguel softly says, as he looks back at you before he swiftly leaps up too many stairs at once.

Baffled at the sight of his movements, similar situations come flooding back into your mind, ones that just haven’t added up about Miguel over this past year. Ones that you had cast aside.

Now, you have to address them.

Everything from that leap up the stairs, to you flying backwards into his lap, and from the sight of his sharp teeth alone. It’s clear something about him isn’t completely human.

He’s almost spider-like.

This whole time you’ve known Miguel, you’ve felt like he was holding something back from you, something he felt you’d never be able to understand. Or perhaps it was something he wanted to protect you from.

Now you know what it is.

Not only did you manage to befriend Miguel O’hara, but you also managed to befriend Spiderman.

The Spiderman who has saved yourself and others countless times.

That is the man who you’re snowed in with. It all makes sense now. The tall, muscular, quiet, intense and amusing qualities…. they all belong to him.

Spiderman 2099.

And you just kissed him…. or you almost did.

❀ I hope this was enjoyable ma lovelies & I apologize for any errors made since this was quickly edited!

Sending you lots of huggies & smiles- POPTART 🍓

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara fic #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #fanfic #reader insert

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galacticgraffiti · 10 months

Text

☾✧ Blacklit Night ✧☽

Rating: Mature (for heavy themes) Summary: Astarion meets Sebastian. You know how this ends. Wordcount: 5k TW: angst, vampiric compulsion/Cazador's compulsion on Astarion, references to past abuse and torture, memories of past NonCon, verbal abuse.

Author's Note: This contains spoilers for Act 3 of BG3, specifically Astarion's companion quest. As always - don't like don't read. Even though there are no explicit sexual themes, I would prefer minors did not interact with this post or my blog.

Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3

• :•: • :•: • ☾ ☼ ☽ • :•: • :•: •

Blacklit Night

The night is dark, and the sparse light of the stars speaks of violence, not peace.

One would think that a city like Baldur’s Gate never sleeps, but it does. There is a moment, when all the fishermen have come back from sea, when the workers have returned to their homes and their children, where the lords and ladies of the upper crust stare silently at each other from across long dinner tables. That moment is the holding of breath before the first death of the night:

The sun still shines just barely, dark creatures lurking in the safety of the darkness, not yet able to step out of the shadows. Warm lights begin to glow from windows as the sun sets, as families have their hearty meals, as the nobles retreat to quietly behold each other, to joke about the peasants or hate their rich counterparts in peace. The world breathes one last breath of golden sun, the sea turns red, and the last of the light fades.

The nightlife begins: Taverns grow loud with song and fun, drinks are poured, first one, then two, then one too many. The hardship of the day is washed away, travellers finally arrive at their destinations - slipped in at last light, we got so lucky - and dutiful students of the Society sneak out of their bedroom windows to get high on mushrooms from the Underdark and kiss beneath the pale moonlight.

The life of daylight is one Astarion barely remembers. It has not been long, a few months, maybe a year or two. Who can tell these days? It’s always dark and there is always pain. When he is not allowed to leave the palace, time passes differently. Godey tells him weeks have passed, but Godey lies. Astarion does not dare ask his siblings. He makes notches on the wall behind a rotting coffin, but the only marker to go by is hunger, and the hunger is eternal.

Yes, it has not been so long since the life of daylight - his life, a life that belonged to him - was taken from Astarion. Even if he can’t tell exactly how long, that much he can say. On the nights he is allowed to go out - to hunt for prey - he can see that the fashions haven’t changed much. He can tell that the bartenders have not aged (not visibly at least), nor been replaced with someone younger and better looking. There is still the same elven girl behind the bar, with the blue hair and the brown eyes who always smiles at him when he orders a drink he carries around all night to look like he belongs. He never smiles back, afraid to reveal his fangs on accident, afraid he would scare her much more than he ever could by being stand-offish and rude.

Astarion misses the daylight more than he misses anything else about his old life. He misses the sun burning his skin that was pale even before death took him. He misses the warmth of it- a kind of warmth that can not be imitated by anything else, a warmth that seeps into your bones and makes you feel like soothing embers glow inside your bones. Nowadays, he is always so cold. Cold in the way a forgotten graveyard is, devoid of life and devoid of comfort.

Astarion pulls his cloak tighter. It is finely embroidered with black and silver peacocks, complimenting his own silver hair and his pale complexion - or so Leon tells him. Mirrors do not show Astarion’s image anymore. The cloak is finely woven, just good enough to make it seem like he might have a little more money than he lets on, but not so garish as to catch the attention of heaps of thieves and robbers. Attracting prey is a delicate game, and Cazador has perfected it. Not that he ever needs to do the dirty work himself, of course.

No, it’s Astarion’s hands that will be bloody, Astarion’s lips that will feel numb, Astarion’s skin that will burn at the memory of a loving touch unwanted, and Astarion’s mind that will be burdened with the knowledge of what their face looked like in the moment of betrayal. How their eyes begged for mercy that he does not have the power to grant.

Cazador loves it when they arrive scared to death. Cazador drains the pain and the fear and the suffering from the air to swallow it whole, to gorge himself on it until he bursts. He strokes Astarion’s silver hair, he tells him that he gets better at it every time, but this one still is not good enough.

“At least you are trying to make yourself useful the only way you can,” Cazador says, as if Astarion had any choice, any say in the matter. “At least I won’t have to tell Godey to have to punish you again. It really is a shame, bruises heal so slowly on your delicate skin. Although the screams make it nearly worth it, don’t you agree? Come now, boy. Won’t you dine with us?”

The memory of Cazador’s rotten voice seeps into Astarion’s bones when he turns around a corner and nearly trips. His tongue tastes the blood of putrid rats a hundred times over, and it’s all Astarion can do not to retch. He closes his eyes for a second to breathe, stumbling for just a second.

A warm hand wraps around his upper arm before he can catch himself.

“My gods, have you been walking long? You are freezing!”

“I’m fine, I just have-” Astarion’s words die on his tongue when he looks up at the man who caught him.

Maybe man is not the right word - still nearly a boy, with long hair and a deep voice that won’t rightly fit his delicate features. His lips are full and his eyes are dark, and the fingers wrapped around Astarion’s wiry arm have a strength to them that one would not expect. He makes Astarion wish his heart could still race just to get high off that feeling once more.

Astarion stiffens and pulls back from the stranger’s grasp, cursing his mind for being so soft and so stupid even after everything that has happened.

You are just a silly boy. This behaviour must be corrected. You will learn to obey. Obey.

“I am fine. I can handle myself.” Astarion says again, straightening his collar, his voice cold. He rips his arm from the boy’s warm grasp impatiently. If he is too nice to him, the boy will follow, the boy will ask-

“Would you like to join me for a drink? I was just about to go in.”

No.

Panic rises like bile in Astarion’s throat.

You will learn. Never let it be you inviting them. Make them think it’s their idea - lull them in safety, spin a web around them while they bask in your beauty and attention. Make them think they have caught you, not the other way around. Find me the most beautiful of them, and bring them to me. Godey will have a wonderful time breaking your bones if you don’t. Find the ones that make your heart ache and betray them. Bring them to me. Obey.

Astarion opens his mouth to decline, tries to deny the seed the Cazador’s commands have planted inside his chest. He can’t do it- he never can.

“Of course. Tell me about yourself.” A pleasant smile settles in the corners of Astarion’s mouth, plastered on by Cazador’s words. Bring me the most beautiful of them. Never decline the offer of a drink.

The stranger holds the door of the tavern open for Astarion, his frame taller and broader than Astarion’s own. His face has not the shadow of a beard and his hair shimmers in the golden light. His eyes are kind. He does not look like he comes from a noble family. There is too much excitement, too much of a need to prove himself worthy. The only thing that could have saved him- gone.

No noblemen. Never noblemen, never their children. They will bring unwanted attention.

Astarion closes his eyes for a moment. There must be something that can save him- there must be something he can do-

The stranger leads him to an empty table in a low lit corner. With the darkness gone, he looks a little older now- his features less soft, his nose stronger. And still…

“I’m passing through town,” he explains with a gentle voice. His hands lay on the table, open and inviting. “I am a jeweller, and I heard there is good trade to be made in the city proper. I had some… complications on the road. I- my name is Sebastian.”

Sebastian.

Astarion hates it when they tell him their names. He can never forget them, they carve themselves into his dead heart and burn him with the acid of his betrayal each day like snake venom dripping down his throat.

Sebastian. Each letter a drop of poison.

Press your lips together, maybe the words won’t slip out. Maybe it’s not too late to save him, maybe-

“My name’s Astarion,” says his treacherous tongue. “I’m a magistrate in the city.”

Sebastian’s eyes light up.

“Astarion… my first acquaintance in the big city, and he is named after a star. I must immortalise our meeting in a piece of my work- a necklace maybe, or a ring…” His voice drifts off when he realises that Astarion’s hand is gripping the table so tightly his knuckles are white with pain. “Oh, I- I am sorry. I have been told I can come on a little strong. All I meant was- what a lucky coincidence to have stumbled upon someone who knows the city so well! How lucky for you to have accepted my invitation!”

Astarion’s unbeating heart aches at the excitement in Sebastian’s voice.

“How lucky indeed,” he says, Cazador’s eternal smile making his lips ache. Never stop smiling. Make them feel like they are wanted- like they are the only thing you have wanted all night. “I was already on my way back home- I had given up on the night somewhat, you see. To have stumbled into such a dashing stranger- it was me who got lucky.”

His words weep the false sweetness of a lie, but Sebastian seems not to notice that Astarion’s throat burns like acid.

“You flatter me,” he mumbles. “I know I- you don’t have to be nice to me if you would rather wish to go home. I would not blame you.”

Everything in Astarion’s body screams, every muscle fighting against the inevitable command, every nerve alight with panic and hatred: Hatred against Cazador, and against his own weakness. Astarion watches with wide eyes as his own pale hand moves across the table to cover Sebastian’s. He cannot stop it, just like he cannot unhear Cazador’s whisper in the dark. Find out what they like and give it to them. No matter what it is. Most of all - make sure it is you.

“Nonsense,” say Astarion’s numb lips. “There is nowhere I would rather be than here. Why, your company is much better than the silence of my bedchamber.”

Sebastian smiles a tentative smile, his eyes lighting up at the touch of Astarion’s hand on his.

“So you have nobody… waiting for you?” His voice shakes a little even as his fingers glide across Astarion’s smooth, pale skin. He has never done this before. Astarion can tell. “Nobody to get home to?”

The question makes Astarion’s head spin. The bond won’t allow him to talk about Cazador. When they ask you where you live, where you are going - lie. Lie convincingly.

“Some of my siblings live around here,” Astarion mumbles. “I stay with them when I am in the district.”

“Ah.” Sebastian’s voice is an odd mixture of relief and disappointment. “You know, I-”

They are interrupted by a barmaid asking for their order. Astarion breathes, digging his nails into his palm until he draws blood. He can’t do it, not with this one. He is too sweet, too innocent. All he wants is a taste of the excitement of the city.

Give him that taste.

No.

Yes. He wants it. You provide.

Conversation with Sebastian is so easy. As the wine flows, his hands wander, drumming on the table, tugging at his shirtsleeves, playing with a family ring. He is never still, and Astarion is enraptured by it. Sebastian’s whole life story could probably fit on two pages, but Astarion always finds new questions to ask him.

Show interest. Make them feel wanted.

No. Astarion asks for his own sake. He begs Cazador’s command to let him care about Sebastian, this sweet stranger. To drink the wine, to joke and show interest just because he wants to. Just this once.

Sebastian does not notice. Sebastian talks and smiles and laughs, his hands in the air, on Astarion’s shoulder; then on his thigh when Astarion places them there. And Astarion finds himself not minding to be touched. Not by him. Sebastian’s touches are not one of hunger or desire, they speak of interest and intimacy in ways Astarion had forgotten.

With some time, even the compulsion of Cazador’s voice fades into the background. Astarion’s attentions are fully focused on the delicate man with the strong hands across from him. Sebastian’s voice is gentle and deep as he tells of his journey from his village through the wilderness. He passed by Moonrise - so far away from the city, where Astarion has never been! He tells tales of his family and growing up in a small village, of his childhood helping out on a farm and of the smith that took him on as an apprentice years ago. He speaks of his work with a deep reverence, and Astarion’s pretend-interest soon turns into real fascination.

The way Sebastian describes his work is almost magical. How the metals come alive beneath his hands - it’s like Astarion can see it now, the heavy swing of a hammer, the delicate touch of fine tools and strong fingers to fit precious stones and bend any material to their will.

Enchanted by the other’s presence, soon their fingers intertwine, their heads so close together they can taste each other’s breath, smelling of honeyed wine as the other patrons fade away into the background. It’s only the two of them, in their own little corner of the world, lit by candlelight and sweet attention.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” Sebastian whispers, his breath warm on Astarion’s face. Warm in the way the sun is. How much he has missed it.

“I could say the same.” They are the first genuine words Astarion has uttered in a long time. “I have met many travellers, but none of them have been like you.”

Sebastian’s eyes darken for a moment, his fingers playing with Astarion’s paler ones.

“None of them?”

Astarion grits his teeth, pressing out a truth that terrifies him.

“None of them have made me want to protect them the way you do. I’ve barely known you one night, and I cannot bear the thought of your suffering.”

Sebastian laughs the easy giggle of someone who has never known real pain.

“Why would I suffer? I am here. And… I’ve found you. A little star among mere mortals.”

No! You didn't find me. I found you, Astarion wants to scream. Run. Run while you still can.

Cazador’s frigid voice seeps back into his skull like the cold embrace of death, and Astarion’s happiness leaks out of his heart and drains away through the creaky floorboards of the tavern when his Master’s compulsion grips him tight once more.

Give them what they want. Then bring them to me.

He doesn’t want to. He tries to shut his mouth, tries to pull his hands away, but he can’t do any of it. Sebastian smiles at him, his eyes only speaking of newly found adoration and interest. Astarion wants to shove him away, but the closest he can get is pressing out a few words, as close to the truth as he can manage, though his body barely allows those.

“Oh darling, I think it’s me that found you.” Astarion’s smile burns on his lips. “You should lea-”

The words burn in his throat like bile, and as much as Astarion tries to get them out, there is nothing in all the hells and all of this world that could overcome Cazador’s command. Astarion chokes, then clears his throat and wipes away Sebastian’s concerned hand on his face, holding the sun-warmth of his hand gently. He is so full of life.

“I’m fine, my love. Just a bit of… wine stuck in my throat. Do forgive me.”

Sebastian smiles softly, his hand settling on Astarion’s pale arm, restlessly drawing intricate patterns.

“What is there to forgive? Do you need anything? Do you want me to get you something, a cup of water perhaps? Let me help you.”

“A drink would be lovely.” Astarion is desperate. Never has his heart seized like this in the face of his prey, never has he wanted to get away from a target as much as this one. Never has he hoped to forget a name as desperately.

Please, just this once.

He would beg on his knees, he would give up the last of his dignity if he had any left at all. Not this one. Not Sebastian, with his gentle eyes and his sweet smile and his delicate hands. Not Sebastian who has never done anything wrong in his life other than come to Baldur’s Gate and try to help a stranger. Not him. Anyone else, but not him.

Astarion stares after Sebastian when he gets up from his seat. A soft touch of the shoulder and Sebastian vanishes into the crowd filling the tavern, on his mission to help Astarion. If only he could be helped. If only a glass of water could fix what is broken inside him.

Astarion tries to get up, he really does. If he can leave, maybe Sebastian won’t find him, and Cazador will never have to know. Better to be bruised and beat up and hungry for an eternity, better to be degraded and burned and starved for months than to see the look on Sebastian’s face as he realises that Astarion has betrayed him. Better to let Godey break all of his bones a hundred times over than to know that Sebastian is dead because of him.

It does not help. Astarion’s fingers prickle with hatred when he digs them into the table, trying to will himself to get back up, to leave and never return. To hope that Sebastian is gone by the time Cazador lets Astarion leave the palace again. Even to be dead and buried would be better than betrayed and drained. It’s all Astarion’s fault. He should never have let it get this far, should have run the second he saw the kindness in Sebastian’s eyes.

It’s all for naught. Astarion’s skull is pounding with Cazador’s compulsion when Sebastian returns to the table, a cup of water in his hand.

Someone who makes your heart ache. Bring me them so I can make you watch, make you scream and cry and beg for their life. You know nothing you say could ever move me to let them go, but oh, how sweet it will be to hear you sing and pray to me for their release. And pray you will, boy.

Astarion smiles at Sebastian and hates himself for it.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” he asks, even if the venom nearly clogs his throat - knowing that tomorrow will never come, not for Sebastian. He will die tonight with Cazador’s fangs in his neck, going limp like a doll as the sunlight of his life is drained from him. And Astarion will have one more name to carve into his heart.

“I’m going to the market!” Sebastian is vibrating with excitement. His hair shimmers in the low light when he bends closer. “I brought some pieces with me, and I want to see if I can get a licence to sell them, maybe down at the market by the docks. I heard there is a forge near here, I might try to find that as well. I just… I want to see as much of the city as I can before life catches up and I have to return to work.”

Astarion digs his nails into the roughed up wood of the table, but not even that pain can keep the next words from slipping over his traitorous lips.

“To the market, hm? That’s exciting, my darling. Quite the journey from here though if you want to get there early enough to ask for a trading licence. Do you know where you will stay tonight?”

His heart shatters into a million pieces at the look on Sebastian’s face: surprise that quickly changes into tentative excitement, like he can’t fully believe what Astarion is implying. He can see the flush that creeps into Sebastian’s cheeks, smell the treat that has been forbidden to him ever since he has craved it. Not even the hunger hurts as much as the inevitable pain of losing this beautiful stranger to Cazador’s greed and bloodlust.

“I was hoping I could rent a room here. But you are right, maybe it is a little far from the market,” Sebastian says, his eyes now lingering on Astarion’s lips, on his exposed neck. His heartbeat betrays him: fast and uneven, stumbling with desire Astarion was hoping would never bloom.

Take the room, he wants to say. Take it and don’t leave it until the sun is up and creatures like me have crawled back to where we came from and can’t hurt you anymore.

What he says instead makes the tips of Sebastian’s ears go flushed and rosy.

“This place is not exactly known for its trustworthy clientele either. I know… someone in the city. I’m staying at his place - if you come with me, I promise we won’t be disturbed.”

The smile on Sebastian’s face is tinted with tentative lust, his eyes wandering where he has not let himself look. Astarion curses himself as an alluring smile appears on his own lips. All he wants is to slip out of his skin and leave behind a beautiful shell, empty and void of any trace of him. Anything not to have to feel like this anymore. Dirty and used, an instrument to another’s thirst for power.

Sebastian leans in closer, his breath mingling with Astarion’s own. He smells sweet, like honeyed wine and thyme.

“What exactly are you planning to do with me if you have to make sure we won’t be disturbed?” He sounds genuinely curious in a way that makes Astarion’s breath stutter.

Another man would ask the same question, already knowing the answer, relishing the implications, the innuendo. Another man would already have his hands on Astarion’s thigh without being invited to, would already be kissing his neck without even paying attention to the telltale scars on his throat. Another man would never have taken the time to try and get to know him, would not have invited him for a drink in the tavern but shoved him up against a wall and had his way in the dark of the alley. Another man would have let his hands wander where they don’t belong, Cazador’s words stopping Astarion from doing anything about it as unwanted fingers cling to his thighs, and unwanted lips caress his chest. Another man would have deserved death. Sebastian is not another man. He deserves better, and Astarion cannot give it to him. The moment Sebastian laid eyes on him was the moment he died.

Astarion tries to find terrible solace in that as he leads Sebastian outside, their fingers interlaced as they wander through the quiet alleys of the lower city.

“Where does this friend of yours live?” Sebastian asks, his eyes full of wonder as he takes in the view of the city in the moonlight. “I- I need to paint all this tomorrow night, it’s beautiful.”

Astarion does not answer, but his fingers squeeze Sebastian’s for a second. It’s enough to make the other man turn to him. Sebastian’s face goes soft, a smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s not only the night that is beautiful. So are you,” he whispers, stepping closer, cupping Astarion’s jaw in one large hand. “If anyone could inspire me, it would be you. How did I get so lucky- my first night in the city, and I find the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on. I have never… no one has ever caught my attention the way you did. Not even at home- there was never anyone-”

He is rambling now, and yet all Astarion can hear is his heartbeat, so fast and excited, so nervous as he moves closer. Astarion wishes he had the strength to stop him, but even if there was any way to resist Cazador’s compulsion, his body is weak. It always has been. It has always betrayed him.

“What I mean to say is…” Sebastian hesitates. He cocks his head, unsure of how to proceed. His heartbeat is so fast Astarion thinks he can feel it in his own chest, and his hand on Astarion’s chest is warmer than the sun. “I… I have no experience in these things. Nobody has ever- well… taken me home with them. I don’t- what I mean is- will you kiss me?”

Astarion freezes, and his whole self shatters at the sweet question that nothing could have prepared him for. Sebastian’s words are extinguished by Cazador’s cold voice in the back of Astarion’s mind.

Make sure it is you they want.

Astarion is good at what he does. Better than he wants to be. They all want him. None of them ever ask if they are what he wants as well.

Sebastian’s lips are soft when Astarion’s own meet them. He is warm, so warm he seems to glow from the inside. His hands are careful, not greedy, and if Astarion could let himself, he would shatter beneath their touch. The kiss is not much more than a gentle touch of lips, not driven by hunger or desire. Sebastian’s only desire is to be known, to be tasted. It is the only wish Astarion can fulfil before he leads him to his death.

Sebastian’s breath is staggered when Astarion pulls away from him, his hands tangled in Astarion’s silvery hair. He closes his eyes and shudders, reaching out to pull Astarion against him as his back hits the wall.

“Again. Please.”

Astarion trembles. How could he say no?

He kisses Sebastian with all the desperation of someone with everything to lose.

Notice, he begs silently. Notice that something is off- wrap your hands around my neck and feel the scars- tell me how cold my skin is, see how my eyes glow in the dark- run, and I will try to let you get away.

Sebastian makes a noise in the back of his throat and parts his lips to let Astarion in, and he is lost. Astarion closes his eyes and lets it happen. There is nothing he can do, and he is so tired of fighting the inevitable.

They are both breathing hard when they break apart, Sebastian’s hands on Astarion’s waist, Astarion’s fingers digging into his shoulders as he pulls him in when all he wants to do is push him away.

“You’re incredible,” Sebastian whispers. “Astarion-”

“Sebastian,” he breathes, and that one word holds more reverence than all his prayers ever did. “Sebastian, you have to g-”

The night air changes, and all the warmth Sebastian’s presence has brought to Astarion’s bones vanishes in an instant. The cold creeps back in like iced water, and it is the coldness only death brings.

“Astarion, who have you brought me tonight?”

Astarion closes his eyes. Not here. Not now- they were supposed to have a moment more- never outside, Cazador never comes outside. He waits in his chambers like a cat waits for the mouse. Long fingers pull at his shoulders, and he can’t do anything but limply let go of Sebastian. Sebastian, whose voice is still gentle, but also scared and confused. Sebastian, who slips away as Cazador commands Astarion to leave.

When before, all Astarion wanted to do was tell him to run, he knows now that it is too late. And he wished for the impossible: To die by Sebastian’s side.

“I- what? Astarion, what is-” Sebastian’s voice is rough with terror, and Astarion can’t look at him. Cazador’s fingers dig into his skin.

“Did you think you had found the love of your life? Did you think he would save you?” The world sinks into darkness as Astarion is dragged away. Cazador hisses the words, and there is no telling whether he is speaking to him or Sebastian. “Oh, come now, boy. You should know better than that. He is not your saviour- he is your ruin.”

The sharp hand lets go of Astarion, and suddenly, cold lips are near his ear, whispering words addressed only to him.

“Keep your eyes open. I want you to watch.”

There is a fraction of a second where Astarion can scream, but it’s too late already. Sharp fangs sink into Sebastian’s neck, and Astarion watches, wide-eyed. His throat burns with words he wishes he could have spoken before, and his cheeks are suddenly wet with tears.

“Sebastian!” Astarion does not recognise his own voice, broken and bizarre in the face of this impossibility he knew was coming. “Sebastian, I’m so-”

The last thing Astarion sees is the hatred in Sebastian’s eyes that burns like a thousand dying suns. Then, Cazador’s staff comes down and the world goes dark.

The return of Angstarion. I hope this concept consumes you all as much as it has consumed me.

@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @samspenandsword @rescuethewretched @pinkiemme @baba-fett @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @fanfiction-i-llike @voidinfernal @foxferret02 @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @perseny @margoisthemoon2 @shiiunn @saucyhedgehog @tonysoffice @pupshr00m @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @silly-gooseastarion @mila-bee @shit-i-say-throughout-the-day @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @aeryntheofficial @jekasha @gub @nogitsune-the @solarrexplosion @hexqueensupreme @unofficialavenger90 @frankiesghost @curtaincaramba @kimiheartblade @niqhtfell @campfull-of-weirdos

Extra special mention to @babygirljoelmiller for being so brave and finishing Cazador's palace.

#angstarion #astarion #bg3 #astarion x sebastian #sebastian bg3 #oh lord this took a toll on me fr #nsft #baldur's gate #angst

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rei-inari · 8 months

Note

pspsp hii fellow grim fan! got any hcs?

hiiii fellow Grimmy lover ! ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝ Ohh that's a good question, I usually keep these things in my head because I'm too shy to post anything but let's see. A lot of my hcs involve my MC personally so I hope that's okay. ☼ MC is female; artist; pet cat named Garrus; lives in Tokyo.

Spoilers below.

Casper's favorite color is black; she teases him that black isn't a color so he just huffs and says red.

Casper listens pretty much exclusively to heavy metal. She introduces him to melodic death metal and it's all he ever plays... except during Christmas time where he plays that one song on repeat, constantly, driving her insane.

He can't hold his alcohol, like, at all. He gets very handsy when drunk.

He's always bringing her new skin care products to try, he refuses to give up until she has a skin care routine that consists of more than "a bar of soap and sometimes sunscreen.. when she remembers."

He brings her a new bouquet of flowers every time the previous one wilts. They are always sunflowers with a mix in of seasonal flowers.

Casper loves cute things, he will never admit to it (he can't lie so), but that cute little axolotl plush sitting on their bed is proof enough.

Speaking of cute things, she introduces him to gachapon. At first he scoffs at it, "How could mortals be so easily assumed by such silly trinkets?" She rolls her eyes at him and puts a few coins into the machine. Out comes a silly little plastic egg, opening it reveals a tiny little clear plastic axolotl wearing a hat. She teases him as she puts it in his hand as they leave. There are 5 other types of axolotl figures in that machine. Later he comes back and blows a shit ton of money trying to win the rest. She has to take his wallet before he spends all his money.

She bought him a cute pair of light pink and red socks with chibi axolotl printed on them one day on her way home from work. He refuses to wear them but more often than not she'll look over as he's taking off his boots and there they are.

They have matching phone charms.

She felt really bad about teasing him about his use of kaomoji so whenever they're apart for long she'll text him ヾ( > ◡ < )ツ.｡*☆ and it usually just escalates from there.

He's very good at house work; cleaning, laundry, etc. Except cooking. He sucks at cooking. His diet of cup noodles is concerning.

He has a sweet tooth.

In any of the endings where he defects from the reaper organization he gets a new job as a programmer. He's completely self taught which he boasts about often.

Casper has hardly ever interacted with animals before, let alone lived with one. So when he moves in he gets to work researching everything to know about cats. He starts to play with Garrus daily, buy him little toys here and there, sneaks him treats. He pouts when she won't let him feed him breakfast/dinner that day.

He can't draw, but that doesn't stop him from leaving little sticky notes with his doodles scribbled on them in her sketchbook when he knows she's taking it to work. She hangs the post it notes on the wall in her cubicle.

Casper reads A LOT. He reads almost every night before bed. Mostly he reads tomes and texts that relate to the underworld or his job, but occasionally a smutty romance novel from the mortal world finds it's way into his hands.

He works out in his room daily.

Haaa that ended up being a lot longer than I thought, but the Casper brainrot is real so 🤭💕

#a date with death casper #a date with death #a date with death vn #adwd #a date with death headcanons #casper #a date with death grim #casper x f!mc

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wisteriadaydreams · 2 years

Note

Hello! I'm new to tumblr and hopefully me trying to contact you and my request is appropriate. I found your blog amazing and even relatable in a lot of ways and i'm honestly very grateful I've found you! (Side note, this request is dedicated towards Tanjiro!)

I had an idea evolving around gaining consciousness in a dream and a form of bond between the two. I'm a lucid dreamer and a fan of concept where dreaming space is perfect for unique and pure interactions, a lot of mutual reassurance and a need to put in effort to go lucid, for the two to recognize eachother. I'm leaving particular ways of interactions to the creator, all i wanted to mention is the aspect of rapidly passing time and the two dreamers being aware of the coming unpredictable waking point. I believe it makes the scenario tense and sensual in a way, since nothing you experience in a dream should be taken for granted! Maybe it's worth working on a concept where the dreaming space is the only one that brings them together.

What i've brought up is probably very generous but I wanted to take a little step and maybe find a possible ally. Where my dream buddies at? 🪴

ONLY AWAKE WHEN I'M DREAMING

pairing: Kamado Tanjirō x gn!reader

genre: fluff, a dash of angst

words: 3.9k

a/n: anon, ur mind is sth i'm envious of, this is such a big brain idea

You know this place, but you have never been here before.

It's like you've stepped into a childhood memory that you have no recollection of, the sides of the fragmented pieces so blunt that you have no idea how to put them all back together. You look around and everything is hazy, like you're in one of those paintings where the background are but languid and dreamy strokes.

You think you feel the sun on your skin, the grass beneath your feet, and the air tastes heady and sweet like a summer night. You blink and the world remains streaks of color smeared on canvas, but a splash of emerald green and red catches your eyes.

You move (or you think you moved) and the last thing you expected to find is a boy.

His wine-dark gaze falls to you and everything at once becomes foreign.

"-ho...ar...ou?" You open your mouth and your voice sounds like a melody played on a broken record.

He doesn't reply to you, or at least, when you focus, it seems that he's trying to. When you squint your eyes you think you see his lips move, but everything is disjointed.

"...do...T...ji...ō."

You feel like you're in one of those social events where you're introduced to a friend of a friend of a friend and you know their name will slip out of your mind, but this is on another level entirely. Though there's definitely some guilt there, you figured that it would be rude not to introduce yourself back.

"I'm (Y/–"

You wake up, the last syllable dissolving like cotton candy in your mouth, and the threads of the dream slips through your fingers.

───── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────

This place is familiar to you, but you're certain you've never set foot here.

The wind tousles your hair and you think it carries with it a light scent of the flowers surrounding your feet. Nothing is concrete, save for the boy before you.

There's nothing like the relieving sense of recognition that washes over you, followed immediately by the gripping flash of panic that you didn't manage to catch his name. Would it be rude to ask again? Or can you nod and bluff your way through this?

"Hi," you offer tentatively.

"Hi," he responds with a polite smile. "Have we met before?"

"Yeah, briefly." You shuffle your feet. "Do you know where we are?"

"I'm not sure. It's familiar to me, but I don't know where this is."

So maybe you're not crazy after all. "I feel that way, too! This could be any place from my memories, but I can't pinpoint which one it is. Do you know what I mean?"

"I do." His eyes dart around the empty landscape before settling on you once more, and if your mind didn't deceive you, you think you see his eyebrows knitting together a little bit. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you've told me this before and this is very rude of me, but I don't remember your name." He then begins to apologize and bow to you profusely.

Your shoulders sag in relief. "No it's okay! To be honest, I didn't quite catch your name either."

"...Tan...ji...rō." You're able to hear him better this time, but whatever he said earlier still eluded your mind.

"(Y...N)," you say and hold out your hand. You lean your head to one side when he looks at it like he doesn't know what to do. Maybe he's just one of those people who doesn't like handshakes?

Now that you think about it, he's not dressed in a way that you're familiar with. No offense to his fashion style, but it's not every day that you see someone wear a long kimono-like jacket with black and dark green checker patterns.

You're starting to feel awkward when he finally grasps your hand uncertainly.

"Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too Tan—"

The last of those syllables burn on your tongue until not even ash is left as you rise with the morning sun.

───── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────

"We have to stop meeting like this."

The boy smiles at you in greeting, and a fraction of a second later his name flows like spring water into your mind.

"I agree. No-not that there's anything wrong with meeting you like this. It's just...a little strange."

"I get it." You sit down on the grass beside him, the blades so velvety smooth that you feel like they're not even there. "It's still weird to me. Like I'm half here and half not."

"Like you're in a dream."

"Yeah." You pause, the notion itching in your brain. "Something like that. I'm still not even sure how I got here. This feels a little too far away from home."

"Which is where, exactly?"

You tell him, but seeing his blank stare makes the nagging feeling in your gut become more intense. You explain where it is, and the way he almost jumps out of his skin makes you flinch in turn. All of your muscles seem to tense up as you ask him the same question.

"I used to live on a remote mountain in the countryside, but now I travel all around Tokyo and beyond for my job."

You blink several times, as if this would make the words make more sense in your mind. "No wonder you're dressed like that. But, um, can I ask what year it is for you?"

"It's the 10th year of the Taisho era," he says like that's the most obvious thing in the world, but you have no idea what that means. "Uh, what about you?"

You answer him, and his reaction is all you needed to know that there's no way that your time period lines up with his.

You slap yourself in the face, ignoring the worried cries of your companion. You don't feel a single thing, not even a featherlight touch.

"Holy crap, we're in a dream, aren't we?"

The realization settles like a dew drop that slowly falls from a leaf, and the moment it hits the ground the mist around you is washed away by the hands of early dawn.

───── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────

"You're pulling my leg," you exclaim.

Tanjirō's brows knit together. "I'm...doing what?"

"Sorry, figure of speech. But demons? Really?"

After mutually establishing that the landscape they find themselves in is in fact a dream, and realizing that the other person (maybe?) isn't simply a figment of their imagination, both you and Tanjirō have been able to settle down enough to understand the situation.

It appears that this type of dream doesn't occur every single night, but they have no way to determine that for sure when their memories of their encounters are scrubbed clean every single morning. But as soon as you laid eyes on each other, those snatched memories are returned to you like a worn blanket that you once thought you lost.

Every time you get to know him a little better, hearing snippets of his life with his sister and friends. You offer stories of your own about your daily life and trying desperately to explain the leaps and bounds technology has made to him.

Soon enough, you both found out that though this might be your dream, or his, you don't have total control. He would be in the middle of telling you the story of how he got his scar when he would be thrown out of the dream, or you would wake up while passionately ranting about your day, leaving you to show up the next night huffing because you realized you've lost all train of thoughts.

You and Tanjirō make it work, somehow. Even when you're from different cultures and hell, completely different time periods (even though you're still not sure he's some illusion your mind came up with), you get along well with him. Despite of all the differences, Tanjirō is one of the most open-minded person you've ever known. He listens attentively and is genuinely interested in anything you have to say, and it makes you breathe easier knowing that he's the one with you in this weird dimension.

"I had the same reaction as you," he says to your previous sentence. "I couldn't believe at first, but then..."

He turns away from you, but you catch the flicker of pain nonetheless. Though Tanjirō has been all smiles, though he is so good at hiding it that it makes your heart twist, you still notice it a couple of times, especially when he talks about his sister and the life he used to have — rife with hard work and financial worries, but oh so blissful.

"They sound scary." You curse yourself for not being able to find better things to say.

"It was, it is still. But that's why I chose to do what I do, so that no one have to go through what I went through." He tugs at the fabric of his dark uniform. "You know, when I first met you, I felt a little afraid because I didn't have my sword with me. For the first time in a while, I was vulnerable. I kept reaching for something that wasn't there." He looks down at the empty space by his side. "But now, I'm glad. I feel safe here, I don't have to watch for every movement or be wary about anything. I can breathe easier here." He turns to you, and you idly wonder how the sun can hope to compare with such a smile. "And I'm glad I'm able to do it with you."

───── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────

"If this is a dream, what do you think we can control in it?" You ponder, the grass disappearing through your fingers every time you wave your hands over them.

"I've never thought about it." Tanjirō is lying on his back, staring at the formless clouds. "You mean like changing our location?"

"Maybe. This place is cool and all, but it gets boring after a while. I think I heard somewhere that there's people who can control what they dream about. I'm pretty sure it's called lucid dreaming. I wonder how they do it though. Like do they just think very hard about it?"

"Well, wanna give it a try?" He sits up. "How about we take turns thinking about a particular place and see what happens?"

"Okay." You can't help but grin at how easily he is to get on board. "I'll try to go first."

You close your eyes, a funny notion now that you think about it, and begin to pull at the strands of your memories, searching for something that calls to you. You find it, its soft weight as familiar as a hug. You smell something in the breeze, hear the muffled voices calling your name, and when you open your eyes you're delighted to see the place you're envisioning being painted right before you. The verdant landscape give way to something much more nostalgic and corporeal, a thought given life.

You feel time lost being flown back into your veins, emotions that were once distant and foregone rise to the surface like a stream of fizzy bubbles, bursting into pockets of sweet sugar inside your mouth. Everything that once was is so within of reach.

But all too soon, the illusion breaks. You find yourself knees on the ground, heaving an imaginary breath as if you just ran a marathon. You feel Tanjirō's hands laid gently on your back, rubbing it in a soothing motion.

"Are you okay?" He asks, concern clear in his voice as he takes a hold of your shoulder.

You nod slowly. "Yeah, I'm fine. I didn't expect that to take so much out of me. But it felt so satisfying, like I just stepped back into the past. Did you see it, too?"

"I did. It was brief, but it was a beautiful place. I felt warm and giddy, like I was a child again. It was so familiar, even though I'm sure I've never been there before. Will you tell me about it?"

"Maybe after you try. I wanna see what you come up with."

Tanjirō's fairs a little better than you. For a moment, the sky begins to turn dark, twilight shades splash against the blue canvas. The nebulous sun is replaced by a dazzling moon, shining its silvery light onto the canopy of trees that are emerging from the grassy expanse.

You think you see something golden twinkling in the forest, filling you with a sensation so wistful that it almost brings tears to your eyes. But just like you, the image fizzles and dies out. Tanjirō has his palms on his knees, his chest going up and down as he takes in breath after breath.

"I get what you're saying now," he pants.

You pat his shoulder. "That was better than me. But I also get what you were saying. When I saw that, I felt something. We have a term to describe that kind of feeling. Déjà vu, it's called. It's for when you think you've seen or been somewhere you've never been before."

"Déjà vu," he repeats, his accent melting over the words like butter. "That's beautiful."

───── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────

You didn't think it would be possible to be tired while sleeping, but that's exactly what you felt when you stepped into the dream.

The heavy weight of the day bears down on you, further intensified by the stress that has been accumulating since god knows when. You rub your shoulders, tilting your head in an effort to get rid of the crick that has been bothering you for the whole day.

You wave at Tanjirō half-heartedly, your demeanor telling him all he needs to know.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Not really. Just tired."

"Long day?"

"Mmhmm." You hum and sit down beside him, scooching closer until your head rest gently on his shoulder. "I just wanna close my eyes and lie down, which is funny because I'm technically already lying down."

He adjusts your position so that you would be more comfortable, his hand rubbing your head up and down, the rhythmic motion setting you at ease.

"Hey," he speaks up after a while. "You wanna see something?"

"What is it?"

"Close your eyes."

You do as he says, anticipating swirling in your stomach. Pinpricks travel up your arms, shooting sparks of warmth down your body like you just sipped a hot drink your parents made for you on a cold day.

"Open your eyes," Tanjirō whispers softly.

You slowly do so, your jaw slightly dropping your open as you take in the scenery before you. You're in a forest drenched in argent moonlight, the branches swaying with the song of stars. A golden stream of light weaves through your vision, and before you know it, you're being surrounded by hundreds of fireflies that forms and unravels like mini galaxies.

You reach your hand out, your eyes wide with wonder as a group of fireflies twist through your fingers, bathing you in their luminescence, spreading sunshine through your body.

"This is amazing, Tanjirō." You say. "How did you manage to do this?"

"I practiced before you came." His attention is solely on you, spellbound by the way your features are illuminated by the glowing bugs. "I figured this might cheer you up since it did for my siblings. Whenever summer comes, we would go to the forest and try to catch them. But we would always release them, because we never have the heart to keep them in a jar. Hanako said that a beautiful sight like this is better shared with other people rather than keep it for your own."

"Wise words for someone so young." You turn to him, resisting the urge to run your fingers through his gold-tinted burgundy hair. "Thank you, Tanjirō."

You go back to admiring the fireflies, quietly talking with him at some points and chuckling when a bug gently boops his nose. In the spaces of the silence, you got to thinking.

It's almost worrying how comfortable you are here, how free and alive you are when you know you're only dreaming. It's a siren song that pours saccharine honey into your ears and blinds you until all you see is a vast, stagnant peace. It would be so easy to succumb, to stay in this place forever. But you have a life to live.

Nevertheless, you would be lying if you say the temptation isn't there. Especially when you have Tanjirō with you. Sweet, caring, amazing Tanjirō, who can brighten up your day with nothing but his smile.

But when you turn around, he's no longer there.

───── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────

There have been times when you arrive at the dream before him.

The first time it happened, you wander around the area with a slowly sinking feeling in your gut that burrows deeper the longer you wait. It led your mind to think about all of the implications that you've never thought about before. What if all of this was coming to an end? What if you have to face the reality that you'll never see him again? Could you dream any longer knowing that he isn't here by your side?

Then he appeared, like he always did, and you couldn't help but run into his arms.

So this time, when your consciousness falls into this hazy place and you don't see that familiar shade of red that stands out like a guiding light, you choose to simply sit down. You just hope that he comes soon, for the last time this happened, you were only able to call his name before you were ripped away.

The air shifts, and you know that he's here. The smile that was on your face died out like a candle when you see him slumped on the ground, shaking furiously. His hands roam frantically over his hips, as if searching for something, and he mutters something under his breath too rapidly for you to catch.

You run over to him, just as he has his hands on his throat, scratching madly and digging his fingers into the skin. Your eyes are wide with panic, never having seen him act this way before, and you crouch down and snatch his hands into yours in one motion to prevent him from hurting himself.

"Tanjirō!" You yell as he struggles in your hold. "Tanjirō! What's wrong?! Tanjirō, look at me!"

He's strong, but you're steadfast and refuse to let him go, not when he's in this state. You continuously call and speak to him until he raises his head, and the haunted look in his ember eyes makes your heart instantly drop into your stomach.

He looks trapped, terrified, eyes constantly flitting around as if what makes him this scared is right around the corner. He looks like he hasn't had a decent night of sleep in a while.

You stare at him, imploring him to recognize you and know that he's in a safe place with you. Finally, a glimmer of light dawns on him, and his shaking becomes less intense, though in no way does that mean that it stopped entirely.

He croaks your name, and the way he says it makes your heart breaks into pieces and your stomach to twist into a tight knot. He says it timidly, brokenly, like it's a fragile thing that he's so afraid of disappearing.

You nod again and again until he is convinced. Your panic heightens when tears well up in his eyes, and before you could react, Tanjiro had thrown himself into your arms.

Even when you're caught off guard, you don't hesitate at all to wrap your arms around him, a hand sinking into his hair. He holds you tight and firm, his fingers curling around the fabric of your clothes as he buries into the crook of your neck, his tears streaming down to your collarbone.

You don't know what to do. You don't know what to do when he's clearly in distress. You don't know what happened to make him this way.

You know what he has been through. He told you of his struggles, all his pain and cracked bone in his body and every time you do, you have an urge to swaddle him and protect him from a world so cruel. How could someone as young as him have gone through so much, how is it fair that his hands are already callused with scars and roughened from training at such an age? He deserves better, he deserves so much better than anything the world can ever offer.

But maybe right now, the only thing you can do is rock him back and forth in your arms, speaking to him in quiet and gentle tones, reminding him that whatever happens, this place is safe for him.

This place is safe for him.

───── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────

"Tanjirō, have you ever thought why us?"

"Hm?" He answers you from his position where he's cuddling with you, his arms circling around your waist and his legs tangled with yours. Ever since what happened last time, he always has to have a point of contact with you, whether it's holding your hand or hugging you. "Why what?"

"Why us in this dream? Why two people from completely different places and time?"

You have no idea why you've been chosen, why this dreamscape continues to pull your unconsciousness into it. An even more upsetting question for you is what happens when it ends?

Perhaps it's a mercy that you don't remember anything when you wake up, because if you do, you just know that you'll be searching endlessly for Tanjiro. You think you already unconsciously do, constantly searching for that spark amongst the strangers in the crowds.

But if one day this all ends and you never see him again, would your life ever be the same? Knowing that in the back of your mind, in some fuzzy corner, there will always be that nagging feeling that you're missing something?

"I don't know," he replies, snuggling more into your warmth. "But whatever the reason, I'm glad it's you."

You nuzzle your nose into the top of his head, breathing the sun from him. "I'm glad it's you, too."

───── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────

The sun sinks lazily, but the last of the daylight still cling stubbornly to the azure sky. Tanjirō stands among a row of houses, staring down at the piece of cloth in his hands, wondering who could've dropped it.

The fabric soaks in the sunset, and as the sky turns orange, he hears rhythmic footsteps against the dirt path running towards him.

He turns his head towards the sound, his nose picking up a scent that he could almost name. From afar, he sees that it's a person, the breeze running its gentle fingers through their hair.

The wind suddenly picks up, causing him to inadvertently close his eyes for a second. When he opens them again, it's right at the moment the person is running past him. But when their eyes lock, the world seems to slow down. Everything falls away and clicks into place at the same time.

His wine-dark eyes become wider as recognition shocks him like lightning. Their name rises from the deepest part of his soul like the tides, coating his tongue like winter snow.

It spills from his mouth in foamy waves—

Tanjirō wakes up.

He doesn't know what he dreamt about. He never seems to remember his dreams.

©️ wisteriadaydreams

➺ All of the following works belong to me. Please don’t repost, copy, or steal my content off of Tumblr. Plagiarism will not be tolerated.

#kamado tanjiro #tanjiro #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro x y/n #tanjiro oneshots #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #sunshine of my life #he's my sun #a dream come true #wisty writes

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iibonniee · 1 year

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Coffee Shops - Chapter Two

Pairing: Chae Hyungwon x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Rating: G

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist | Previous

The human brain is both a blessing and a curse. It allowed you to remember everything, and when those memories were tied with utter embarrassment, one can only hope that that experience wasn’t paired with eyes to see. If that was the case, said person could pray that they would leave the story to go with the passing minutes. After all, who enjoys being the butt of a joke at work?

That was never the case for Y/N.

Her eyes remained firm on the giggling stranger, his smile evident through his creased eyes as he watched her movements. She felt like a show for him. A project to study and then write about. His name was unknown, but whatever his name was, she’d silently curse him and her coworkers, whose grins put her into a corner of embarrassment as their own smiles weren’t covered by the mask this stranger wore.

“Here you are.” Y/N’s voice was small as she handed the male his freshly re-made coffee. She wanted to groan at how his smile was unchanging. “Again, I am so sorry. Please let me know if you need me to pay for anything, clean up, whatever. I can give you my number if you need to contact me.”

She was rambling. Her nerves were eating away at her, and she simply couldn’t shut up. His soft chuckles only seemed to encourage her onslaught of rambling mess.

“Are you asking me out on the job?” The smoothness in his voice was next to criminal. She knew her face was as red as a tomato, and she had prayed with every fiber in her being that the ground would open and swallow her whole. This was simply not happening, not on her first official day.

“No – you seem so nice, but I’m sure you have a girlfriend – or a wife even – I don’t judge. I just meant that I could pay to clean your clothes. Coffee on a white shirt will be so hard to get out, and the reason it’s there is because of me.”

Just shut up, Y/N.

Sealing her lips shut, she noticed how the male’s laughter kicked up tenfold. He was doing this on purpose. Perhaps it was fair that he got a rise from her while sitting there with a coffee-soaked shirt. His brown eyes finally found her own once more, his smile still there as he tilted his head ever so slightly.

“Thanks for the coffee and the great laugh, Y/N. I’ll remember you.” She watched as he shot her a wink, then turned and made his way to the exit. Her eyes widened as she turned to Eun, who watched the whole interaction with a hand-covered mouth. She knew he was seconds away from snapping and laughing. Perhaps even doubling over as he usually did when he found something just too hilarious.

“Don’t start.” She pleaded with her friend, moving to clean up the mess she made from the coffee spill. She didn’t need to hear how he wouldn’t let this situation go. She already knew of the many stories he had told her about the other employees here. He was undoubtedly the one to go to for stories whenever anyone needed them.

“I wouldn’t know where to start, Y/N.” The male giggled as he turned to help the next customer. “I can start with how everyone saw what just happened or how you got more than “One Iced Americano to go, please” from the man who hardly speaks. Did I mention he’s a regular here?”

“How about not starting at all? I was already praying the ground would open and devour me alive the more I rambled. Why didn’t you step in to help? And why would you mention the fact that he’s a regular?”

“I was going to, I truly was, but watching you and how red your face was is my year’s highlight. Not even Gi had me laughing as hard as you did.” Eun grinned at her, satisfied with his own answer and the support of a nodding customer who had witnessed the interaction in full. She groaned, wanting to collapse to the ground and cry.

“Let’s hope he won’t come by again after this. I can’t bear to see his face after I embarrassed myself as much as I did.”

⊰ ☼ ⊱

Six harsh knocks rattled the door of apartment 3D. Y/N didn’t know how many knocks meant “emergency,” and she sure as hell was not planning on embarrassing herself any more than she did at work. But fuck if she had to keep pounding on her friend’s door for the sake of her opening the fucking door, she would.

Eight grueling hours and Eun simply wouldn’t drop the story for a damn second. Not even when a customer who was patiently waiting for their drink of choice would be able to outrun the story. She wanted to quit on the spot, damned if her saving would go to bills and not foolish spending.

“Jesus, is this an emergency?” Aera questioned the second she opened her door. When Y/N’s eyes met Aera’s, relief filled her blood far too quickly to be considered okay.

“Yes, this is an emergency!” Y/N cried, waving her phone in the air to signal that she gave her best friend ten messages of SOS and thirty in pure pity and despair. How could Aera put out such a question when the situation was evidently on the phone her friend held close to her?

The softness of Aera’s couch was pleasant, and she had just hoped it would do her the favor the earth clearly wouldn’t grant her the previous hours. Y/N had kept her eyes on her friend, who fell beside her on the couch and was eager to see what her phone offered her. It made Y/N wonder how much Aera had blown her off in favor of what was present in front of her.

“Aera, did you read any of my messages?” Y/N tried, hope lacing her voice. She needed her best friend to comfort her and to tell her that it wouldn’t happen again. And maybe, just maybe, she had embarrassed herself so much that the nameless masked man would save her the embarrassment even more and pick a new Starbucks to frequent.

“Did I what?” Y/N watched Aera peek from around her phone to her friend, a tiny smile on her grind.

If Y/N knew any better, she knew her friend was surfing the internet in favor of listening to her life problems. This caused Y/N to groan loudly, seemingly ignored by her dearest friend, who immediately switched her attention to her phone.

“My messages? Did you see them? I spilled coffee all over this guy at work, not even a full hour into my shift. The worst thing is he was tall and probably super attractive, too. He wore this white mask and had a hat almost covering his eyes. But I’m not kidding when I say I could see his smile! He even winked at me before he left!” Y/N repeated what she sent in her messages, only to notice once again Aera was focused on her phone. “Aera, please! I’ll start crying on your couch!”

The urgency in her voice was palpable as she desperately attempted to grab her friend’s attention. With a wild look in her eyes and her voice filled with concern, she persistently called out to her friend, desperately trying to make her understand the gravity of the situation. As her friend seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts, the woman became increasingly frantic, her gestures becoming more erratic and emphatic. She knew that time was of the essence, and she needed her friend to fully comprehend the severity of the matter at hand. With each passing second, her heart raced faster, and she could feel the weight of the situation intensify.

When her back fully sunk into the couch, Aera threw her phone down, her attention now entirely on her distressed best friend.

“I was just catching up with your messages. I’m sorry.” Aera spoke sheepishly. Y/N watched as Aera studied her friend’s face, noticing how her emotions changed from bubbly to upset as the hours passed. “If he was joking with you, he doesn’t hold it against you.”

“Aera, Eun wouldn’t drop it. He kept saying that the guy was a regular and never heard his name, not even when asked for a name. He said the guy would avoid answering because “his order is too easy and quick for a name. But today, I got more out of him than he’s ever heard.”.”

Y/N watched Aera think carefully. Her words seemed calculated, carefully picked out as she spoke, “You could’ve spilled coffee on an Idol, you know? Typically, Idols wear the type of look you explained to me when they don’t want to be recognized.”

Aera’s suggestion was something Y/N didn’t want to hear. In truth, it would’ve saved the girl from planning her early trip out. Suppose it was true, and she managed to actually spill an Iced Americano on an Idol. In that case, she’d immediately find her next plane ticket out of the country.

“That’s – that’s not even funny, Aera. Why would an Idol come to this side of town for coffee, anyway?”

“Easy,” Aera answered, “It’s quiet, not a ton of traffic flow, so the chances of them being recognized are slim to none on a good day. And our Starbucks is cute.”

Puffing her cheeks, Y/N had to give her friend that much credit. She had done her fair share of exploring and noted she picked one of the best places to live. It was much quieter than other places she had her eye on, and the Starbucks she worked at was no more than a 15-minute walk from her home.

She closed her eyes, needing a distraction from the day she had.

“What were you looking at?” Y/N questioned, opening her eyes to meet Aera’s, who now had a grin spread across her face.

“Some of my favorite groups are making comebacks soon! Oh – I must get you into some! You aren’t fully my best friend if we aren’t into the same groups!”

⊰ ☼ ⊱

Y/N had to admit a few things. Spending a night with her dear friend Aera was always a treat. Her friend was never one to hold back when it came down to something she was very passionate about. Another would be the confusion she felt when the nameless masked man greeted her. But there he was, a smile evident the moment he spotted her. Her body froze at the entrance as she watched him stand, his phone finding safety in his pocket.

She had a million questions. The main one was why the fuck was he here and smiling at her as if she was his long-lost friend? Exactly how long he had been waiting for her to appear and whether he knew she would be working. Slowly, she moved behind the counter where Eun waited patiently for her, his smile just as bright as the previous day.

“He asked about you. He wanted you to serve his coffee, his usual.” Eun spoke, caring for the customer who came before the nameless man.

Now, that was something Y/N wasn’t expecting. Stepping up to the counter, the man gave her a bright smile seen through the creases of his eyes, his black cap almost covering his eyes fully if it wasn’t for him tilting his head up so she could see it.

“You won’t spill coffee on me again, right?” The male spoke, giving her the money for his coffee.

She had to admit his teasing won him a shy smile, one that seemed to please him. She felt his eyes on her as she made him his coffee.

“I can make no promises. Thankfully, you aren’t wearing white, so if I spill any coffee on you, the stain will be much easier to remove.” She quipped back, her smile full as she focused on the coffee.

She was happy he couldn’t see her full smile. She knew by now his ego was probably far beyond boosted if the previous day’s activities had anything to do with it. She couldn’t begin to wonder what exactly was going through his mind. “I wore black just in case.” His words were smooth as she turned to hand him his coffee. “And not a spill this time. Thank you for the coffee, Miss Barista.”

Once again, his departure was met with a wink. Heat filled her face as she turned to Eun, who met her wide-eyed look with a grin of his own.

“I don’t want to be the one to say it, but I will say it. He was totally flirting with you.”

#kvanity #hyungwon x reader #hyungwon series #monsta x fanfic #monsta x x reader #chae hyungwon x reader #monsta x fluff #monsta x imagines

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stvrmfrci · 2 years

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ㅤೀ 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘 ! EVAN CHO sets sail to assist those with broken hearts . the THIRTY-NINE year old is known to be UNETHICAL , but makes up for it by being EFFICIENT . you can usually find him listening to REQUIEM FOR MY HARLEQUIN BY POETS OF THE FALL ; might be a way to unwind from working as a PSYCHOLOGIST at CH HEALTH & EMERGENCIES . ﹕ ꒰ lee dongwook, cis man, he / him ꒱

𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔

name: evan cho. pronouns: he / him. nickname(s): doc. date of birth: november 1 @ 0001. zodiac signs: ☼ scorpio, ☾ taurus, ⇧ leo ( western ), dog ( chinese ). language(s): english, korean, latin, german. orientation: pansexual / panromantic. occupation: psychologist.

moral alignment: lawful evil. enneagram: 3w2, the enchanter. mbti: intj-t, the architect. hogwarts house: slytherin. temperament: choleric. signature scent: tiziana terenzi’s sirrah ( top notes: passionfruit, quince, saffron, & green pepper. heart notes: osmanthus, mountain air, amber, rose, & cardamom. base notes: white musk, leather, sandalwood, birch, & patchouli ).

inspiration: won sangah ( little women, kdrama ), ko moonyoung ( it’s okay not to be okay, kdrama ), seo moonjo ( strangers from hell, kdrama ), jung sunho ( i remember you, kdrama ), yujin ( the good son, book by youjeong jeong ), margot scott ( tell me lies, audible original by jp pomare ), patrick bateman ( american psycho ), hannibal lecter ( hannibal, tv show ), + my own imagination.

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒔

─── [ REDACTED ].

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒔

─── born and raised in london. got his psyd in clinical psychology at the university of manchester.

─── throughout his time spent getting his education, along with his clinical training, he placed a heavy emphasis on personality & dissociative disorders which eventually became his specialty whenever he opened his own practice.

─── ranks 4.6 / 5 in primary psychopathy and 2.4 / 5 in secondary psychopathy. the difference between the two being that primary deals with superficial charm, manipulation, & the lack of empathy, while secondary deals with impulsivity & is often related to hostile behaviour.

─── piggy backing off the above, he’s had many years to learn how to fit in, to blend seamlessly into the community around him. to the outside world, he’s well-educated, charming, warm, outgoing, etc. ( all without being too much ) while, in reality, it’s all a facade.

─── definitely a pleasure seeker in a physical sense and no one, except those that would become a problem or disrupt his carefully staged set up, is off limits. enjoys a good adrenaline rush, too.

─── regarding the whole impulsivity thing, he is the world’s most patient man. which is one of the biggest factor as to why he’s able to get away and come off as a walking white flag without a red one in sight.

─── the reason why i said he’s unethical is because he’s never really followed the ethics normally placed upon those within his profession. he tends to get just a bit closer to his clients, maybe whispers some things he shouldn’t as their psychologist bc he often sees him as his play things.

─── also known within the circle of wealth for his.. charity. before joining the cruise, he spent many hours doing volunteer work, offering mental health services to orphanages and shelters, etc. was also a big donator.

annnnnnnnd i think i’m gonna end it here. i feel like he’s a muse that’ll be fun to learn about through interactions and development bc is he being real? is he ever telling the truth? who knows! i don’t! anyway, as i’ve said before, thx for putting up with us <3

#nostrum:intro #q.

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zumicho · 3 months

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PANORAMA!!!

PAIRINGS kageyama, kuroo, osamu, + YOU DECIDE !

SYNOPSIS it’s been three years since tanaka & kiyoko tied the knot! as her family friend, you’re invited — as a bridesmaid to her vow renewal beach getaway on panorama island !! ♥︎

an interactive SMAU where readers will be able to make choices, vote on, and eliminate contestants! will the original 3 survive?

TAGS / CWS language, innuendo, kms/kys jokes, possibly ooc, post-timeskip, femreader, teeth rotting fluff. -15 dni

☼ UQUIZ TAG GAME ☼

REPLY TO RSVP! (TAGLIST: OPEN)

SEASON ONE - ON AIR

INVITATION 𓆉 GRAND TOUR 𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪ GUESTS

PILOT : FAMILIAR FACES

EP 2 : RED FLAGS ALL AROUND

EP 3 : SEA BASS WAGER

EP 4 : SUNRAY STIMULANT

EP 5 : SALLY ARE YOU OK

EP 6 :

THE VOTE OFF!!! : S1 PANEL

season end credits

SEASON TWO - IN PRODUCTION

tba…

author’s note: my biggest project yet ♥︎ I’ve had this scheduled since june 29th (thank you ness & yen for listening to me rant)

I didn’t make an outline for this to prevent burnout !! kindly excuse any plotholes / send asks about them !! constructive criticism is highly appreciated ^^ expect inconsistent uploads — see you soon!

divider by anitalenia

RSVP’D GUESTLIST UNDER CUT

@causenessus @guitarstringed-scars @cloudybillows @s1ckntw1st3d @suna-rins-sunshine @hyenagoated @hibernatinghamster @yogurtkags @acowboykisser @yukatoraa @fishrene @iwaizluv @iluvmang @neoclb @kr1nqu @lvtilzs @wave2mia @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @bubooo @bectoshi @gra-eae @cr4yolaas @cloooudddy1 @jaynawayna @ryuverse @miliondollagirl @soulfullystarry @fiannee @yumiecheesecrackers @ast4rg1rl @eujoana89 @whenanafallsinlove @arraxthatsonjah @spencerpng @staileykout @kaiiibxby @miiyas @serossidechick @chososcamgirl @yuminako @diorzs @muyyie @krissiekris @from-mae @p1nkdiary @justanotherbimboslxt @mfcherry @solaqes @renardiererin @southernfrogprincesd

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gas-stxtion-a · 1 year

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@rejectshumanity said: ♡ ♢ ☼ for the munday meme!

(what is this? an interrogation? come back with a warrant - open)

//hehe thank you <3 i'll put these under the cut b/c i never fucking shut up lmao

♡ What are your top five favorite things about yourself?

//how daaaare you make me be nice to myselffffff

no jokes aside <3 anyway.

i like that i'm generally a nice person! i think that it's important to be kind when you can, because there's enough darkness in the world. why not be kind when you have the chance?

... on another note, though, i'm really happy that i'm getting better at standing up for myself and handling conflict. because being kind is important, but sometimes you gotta be a bitch and that's life! i was rereading something i sent a friend years ago regarding a conflict i was having at the time, and i was astounded by it lmao like... oh my god. my dude. you have very good reasons to be upset and it's okay to say "i'm mad at this person" without adding a million disclaimers that it's probably not their fault!!

i genuinely think i'm *so* fucking funny, and for better or worse, you will certainly hear my jokes.

i'm a good listener. when people are having a hard time and need someone to talk to, i'm good at like... just offering a listening ear. i may not always have advice but i can generally listen and chat and help someone talk through it if that's what they need.

i don't like to judge people unless they give me very, very good reason to, especially if i don't know them. i try to assume ignorance more than i'll assume malice, though i'm also trying to get better at recognizing when the line between those can get a bit blurred haha.

♢ What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?

//gimme that salted caramel <333 though honestly a long-time favorite is like. anything with cherries. that's the good shit.

☼ Who are your top five favorite fictional characters?

//CRACKS KNUCKLES.

okay for the sake of not going on forever, i'll just list five characters that aren't muses of mine (at least not on this blog). because we all know mr jack townsend is number one but like. others deserve a shot. for fun, i'll also explain myself a bit :3c

dr. robert langdon - the da vinci code (and other dan brown books)

i was obsessed with these books a completely normal amount as a middle schooler (lying). something about this like... charming middle-aged professor who keeps finding himself in the middle of massive conspiracies usually related in some way to religion and frequently having his life put in danger? and saves the day by being a fucking nerd? what a dude!

arthur morgan - red dead redemption 2

if you were there for my rdr2 fixation (which most of you definitely weren't lmao) then uhhh yeah <3 genuinely i had a huge crush on this character and was so obsessed with him for so long. the yearning was out of control, folks. i do still have a lot of fondness for him, but tbh some not-so-fun interactions in the fandom really put me off of the whole series for a while. he still means a lot to me though!

rhys - tales from the borderlands

would it be exaggerating to say that rhys tftbl is the reason i'm trans? probably. but y'know something about him really resonated with me at a time when i was really going through some gender fuckery and trying to figure myself out. idk what it says about me that that shitty little twink helped me figure myself out a bit, but anyway.

evelyn mckinnon - accounts from a lonely broadcast station

had to list at least one woman lmao- but yeah i really love evelyn. she's such an incredibly written character and every time i reread (or. rather. re-listen to) the series i actually get a little choked up because her narrative is so *fascinating* and well-done to me. like wow we love a tragic cringefail woman who has to face her own mistakes and become better, not just for her own sake but for others'!!! and face the fact that her fuck-ups hurt more than just herself!!!

evelyn is one of the many characters i'm considering for the horror multimuse i talk about sometimes. and maybe i'll even let her stay a cis woman- i'm kidding ASDFJKL; but like. fr. we'll see.

charlie kelly - it's always sunny in philadelphia

honorable mention for the trashiest man i'm currently thinking about lmao- so i started watching iasip because i wanted to see the insanity for myself and. wow all of these characters are terrible. but god it's so fun to see them in action. and charlie is by far my favorite. he's illiterate. he drinks paint. he eats cat food for fun. he's an artist. he makes a living beating rats to death with a stick. he's a wet paper bag of a man. he's very deeply traumatized and doesn't realize it.

he's the perfect man.

#you know this whole thing is one big experiment‚ right? and you're the little mouse? {ooc}#rejectshumanity #the phone is twenty five cents a minute‚ paid in advance‚ no exceptions {answered}#//thank you dani!!!#//wow i went on for a while lmao

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lorebled-a · 2 years

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RED.

˚ ☼ . RED & MUSINGS . ˚ ☼ . RED & ISMS . ˚ ☼ . RED & VISAGE . ˚ ☼ . RED & PHYSIQUE . ˚ ☼ . RED & AESTHETIC . ˚ ☼ . RED & MUSIC . ˚ ☼ . RED & WARDROBE .

˚ ☼ . RED & INTERACTIONS . ˚ ☼ . RED & ABOUT . ˚ ☼ . RED & ANSWERED . ˚ ☼ . RED & MISC .

#˚ ☼ . RED & MUSINGS .#˚ ☼ . RED & ISMS .#˚ ☼ . RED & VISAGE .#˚ ☼ . RED & PHYSIQUE .#˚ ☼ . RED & AESTHETIC .#˚ ☼ . RED & MUSIC .#˚ ☼ . RED & WARDROBE .#˚ ☼ . RED & ABOUT .#˚ ☼ . RED & INTERACTIONS .#˚ ☼ . RED & ANSWERED .#˚ ☼ . RED & MISC .#tags

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rarephloxes · 3 years

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Sorry for the tremendous delay :(

I gave it a shot!!! Thank you for sending this prompt, I hope you really like it :)

G rated, ≈ 1.6k words

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

Lucien was not pacing.

Pacing meant nervousness, anxiety, and the stress-induced sort of nail-biting reserved for faelings who still needed tutors. Pacing meant eagerness and impatience.

No, he most definitely was not pacing.

Lucien was a High Lord’s son. Composed, he thought to his image in the mirror. Centered and understanding. An Emissary, a successful Treaty maker. The pacing was for brutish, unfeeling males who coerced faes into mating bonds they had no obligation to accept and did not respect the needs of the most stunningly important females in his life.

He knew how valorous Elain’s seer studies were. In fact, Lucien could most definitely appreciate her favors for academia, her hard work, and her intelligence. How much she had improved in the past years regarding controlling and eventually using her powers was a prime example of the type of female she was: hard-working, smart, kind, and gifted with the sort of resilience one encounters very rarely. The type of resilience one cultivates while planting flower seeds in window boxes during winters, keeping the buds alive even against the harshest of winds. Resilience to overcome the direst of pains and still be compassionate and sweet to others, to not let the bitterness bite through. Her drive to try again even when peace and comfort were always proven to fade away.

That said, he could barely wait another second to see her.

So, his rigorous walks around his room at Sidra’s House were merely a way for him to... keep himself warm. Yes, the coming of Solstice weather was nearly reaching freezing temperatures, and moving to increase his body heat is most understandable and feasible.

The deep red oak door of his rooms opened and Feyre popped her head inside just short of looking like a floating face (and, with how inventive she’d gotten while investigating her powers, he couldn’t be sure that wasn’t the case).

“Elain’s arriving in five,” she told him, her (whole-bodied) frame coming close to rest her hand on his shoulder “You don’t need to look so constipated about it,”

“Ha,” he tried to laugh.

It won’t be as awkward as their previous encounters, he knew. Actually, part of him expected it to be… Well, he was not sure of what to expect, and yet he felt like he was about to start singing his fingers with unpremeditated fires as if he was as old as Nyx. We are friends now, he reminded himself. She can be comfortable around me now, she might even trust me, if she needed.

There’s been sometime now since Elain seemed to have gotten used to his presence. Obviously, feeling as though you are comparable to a fixture, or just another Court’s representative by your mate is as painful as it sounds, but it was one step up from complete numbness, and it paved the way for the discreet fondness he felt creeping up in every one of their interactions. Cordial and still distanced fondness, but affection-filled in its beginning.

The letters they’ve used to correspond have burned quietly in his mind, an earnest feeling which grew with every observation she gave him about Summer Court’s palace, her rooms, her exploratory boat trips into the sea. It became more and more obvious how much she wanted to share with him, and how much that amount grew every day. Through her letters, Lucien got to know a whole new Elain. Perhaps it was the distance between them, the lack of family members watching around them like birds of prey looking into the slightest of interactions to pick apart. Perhaps it’s the safety one encounters in being made to words and phrases. Whatever it was, he was most grateful for it.

It was Elain’s second trip to Adriata, and it felt impossibly different this time.

⠀ ོ ⠀ ོ ⠀ ོ ⠀ ོ

“In the living room!” he heard a voice call as soon as his foot touched the foyer floor, and his whole body stood in attention to it, the sound tuned out to control his body and if it owned it.

Lucien stepped towards the room, his hands clammy, and felt all the breath be released from his lungs in relief.

“Oh, it is really you,” Elain breathed out, brows raised as if surprised by his presence at the arched door. “I mean,- I felt it, but it’s all so new, and I- I didn’t know how accurate it is.” Her hands are pressed down on her chest as he slowly walked closer.

“How accurate is it?” he asked, still a few feet away.

“Very,” she squeaked out, flushed red.

Lucien thought to stand closer, the remainder of the brief excited hug she gave him after her first trip back from Summer Court impulsing him forward.

He forced his feet to stay where they were, his instincts roaring and screaming at him to watch her closely, hold her protectively in his arms.

Just because she hugged you once, doesn’t mean she wants to do it again.

Lucien looked at her and saw… longing, yes, but also the sort of happiness that comes from getting something you’ve been wanting for a long time.

He recognized it because it’s the same feeling mirrored in his eyes.

Hope, as much as his life tried to squash it, is as resilient as the woman he loves.

“Where’s Feyre?” Lucien heard himself ask through a fog, still winded to see her.

“Rhysand mind spoke to her. An official emergency,” she told him in a tone inflected perfectly to call her sister’s bullshit.

“When will they be back?”

“I don’t know, she didn’t say,”

There’s a crack in the air, both realizing more forcefully they are truly alone in the house, with no time limit to have company again.

Lucien cleared his throat, lips suddenly parched.

“How has it been here while I was away?” She asked.

Elain looked so alive, in front of him. Her skin was just a tad darker than her customary pale complexion, her cheeks rosier from the sun. The golden hues in her hair more pronounced, as if carefully crafted by the Sun itself.

A line creased in her forehead, followed by a smirk tugging the side of her lips. He still hadn’t responded her, mind working a mile a minute. Overwhelmed by her simply standing in his vicinity.

Only when it matters, then I can’t be smooth to save a life.

“Just fine,” he managed to get out.

There’s so much more he has to say, of course.

“Just fine,” she repeated back, still smirking at him.

“Nyx learned his first curse word,” I missed you “Feyre was appropriately appalled,” Did you miss me? “Cassian made some progress with the Illyrians, I can show you some treaties I started to draft to ease their relations, if you wish” I realized so many things this past month, about us, have you?

Elain laughed, something shifted pleasantly in his ribs.

It’d be easy, even if reductive, to explain to her the obviously beautiful things about her - the slope of her waist, the sunshine in her hair, the beams of her smile, the inviting plumpness of her lips, the briefness of her eyebrows, the delicate slope of her neck and hands and all her magnificent details - made his breathing hitch in his throat because sometimes his body could do nothing more than stand witness to her beauty. But, how to make himself clear whilst not turning himself into a fool and say what tipped him over the edge, what made his side of the bond shimmer and wrap itself tightly around his heart had always been the subtle things he couldn’t help but notice, no matter how many times he convinced himself his eyes weren’t welcome on her vicinity.

How to explain that he’d fallen in love with her for the way her knees bend the fabric of her dress when she crosses her legs once she sits? Or, the rare sound of her laugh, or, even rarer, the sharp look in her eyes which shows she was aware of much more she let on. Almost a crack in the beautiful porcelain costume she had all over her body, a fragile armor, made from feeble yet insistent instincts to protect, to smooth out any bothersome wrinkles.

Lucien fell in love with the nearly imperceptible crookedness of her canines, her form while spreading bread dough at the kitchen table, the way she wipes sweat off her brows with the back of her wrists while she gardens.

Lucien fell in love with her penmanship, the dots in her i’s.

Lucien fell in love with her tender endurance, the innate stubbornness of her kindness. The nurturing nature her body seemed to thrive off.

The grandfather clock chimes three times, and Lucien felt the hopes of this reunion being amicable and not awkward puffing away, all because he couldn’t control his mind to have a conversation with her without stalling over his words.

When he blinked again, Elain was close enough to touch.

“Lucien,” she said with her eyes set in his, “Your end of the bond is open,”

There was very little time for him to burn in embarrassment and close the wide-open gates of his mind because, in the very next second, Elain wrapped her arms around him.

“Oh, Gods,” she whispers shakily against him, hands shyly grasping the fabric of his shirt.

He kept his hands below her shoulder blades when all he wanted was to weave them in her hair and feel their lightness caressing his hands, watching the stark contrast of his tan hands and the sunny quality of the strands.

(Wanted to cradle her scalp and tug ever so slightly, see if she’d shiver and sigh. If she’d flush down her dress as well).

“I didn’t know,” he whispered back, voice choppy, feeling stupid and unfit “I’m sorry for-“

Elain’s smile seemed to warm everything within a mile radius of them.

“I like it,” she admitted, “Just a bit surprised, 's all”

The beast inside him purred, pride in pleasing his female.

“There’s a lot I want to tell you too”.

“Good,” he held her a bit tighter, felt her tighten her hold on him in response.

"That's good."

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

Thank you for reading 💘💘💘

#elucien #elucien fanfic #elucien fic #elucien fanfiction #ana writes #my writing #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elucien prompts

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staysuki · 3 years

Text

my sunshine ☼ | lee minho smau

chapter 8.—"how loaded can one be."

pairing: reader x lee minho (campus crush!minho) | enemies(?) to lovers

genre: smau, university au, fluff, crack, mild angst, suggestiveness in some parts, romcom

word count: 3.5k

warnings: drunk partying, forced flirting, (not proofread ew)

synopsis: two people with completely different personalities living in completely different circles. in your years of college life, you’ve never once interacted with each other, and everyone thought it’ll stay that way. but after a cruel twist of fate revolving a blind date mishap, you find your lives suddenly intertwined— and perhaps, maybe, you two weren’t so different after all.

[the party that took place before chapter 7]

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[approx. 24 hrs earlier...]

"y/n... seriously?"

"yes?" you looked at shuhua with wide questioning eyes as you see her face scrunch up in disgust.

"i thought we were gonna hoe down!!"

"we are!" you reasoned but your girl bestfriend was not convinced, instead opting to train her overdramatic glare towards you.

"she's shaming your very creative choice of a hoe-down outfit." felix piped up at the side.

"but i think i look alright." you just shrugged lightheartedly, not minding your friends' comments as you looked down on your plain white tee ensemble.

"fine, but if you don't score tonight, don't tell me i didn't warn you." shuhua hummed, clasping her hands with you and felix's as she ran towards the distant reverbating sound of music, tugging the two of you along.

"girl, the house isn't gonna go anywhere even if we take our time." felix huffed but ran alongside her still.

she rolled her eyes, "yeah, but the cool people might."

"i thought the cool people always come late and stay last?" you questioned with a laugh.

"not in lucas' party, everyone wants a piece of that dude."

"you mean his money?" felix snided.

as you all stepped inside his house— well, mansion— your senses were overwhelmed by what greeted you in the party. bodies bumping into each other, the friction creating warmth that spread all throughout, the music was boosting nonstop, the buzz of crowds filling the air, the smell of alcohol and body heat swamped your nose as your eyes tried its best to focus on the dark atmosphere only dimly lit by led lights and an out of place disco ball. your body generated goosebumps due to the environment.

"you good?" felix snapped you out of your initial shock (though not your first party, the liveliness of it always got to you).

"yeah! just waiting to adjust, where's shuhua?" you asked, your eyes failing to take note of her presence.

felix motioned to some general direction within the house, "already out to party, obviously. we should too."

"to the kitchen it is!" you cheered, making a beeline to your favorite area of every house party ever. no matter what kind of party it is, the kitchen has always been your favorite. why wouldn't it be? it has the drinks, the food, the calm atmosphere away from the dance party in the living room or the sexed up energy in the bedrooms. it was where proper conversations took place over cups of red.

getting a drink together was easy enough, it was staying together that was the hard part. so when you and felix managed to pour yourself some alcohol, you tried to stick together and converse with the other peeps that walked through. though, some time through the night, even your freckled bestfriend had disappeared amongst the crowds.

you pouted, sad to be left alone but you knew how to enjoy yourself alone. you barely even registered how long it's been since you've got here. it felt like hours, but also felt like minutes.

"hey! y/n right?" an unfamiliar voice caught your attention, making your head turn towards it.

you saw a cute guy sending you an equally cute smile, too bad you didn't recognize him at all. "ummm, i'm sorry, do i know you?"

he laughed, shaking his head as he poured himself a drink. "i wish. i'm classmates with shuhua, i was supposed to be your blind date. my name's xiaojun."

you almost choked on your drink at the revelation. if shuhua had properly set up your blind date, you would've had the opportunity to meet xiaojun. but at the back of your head, you sort of thanked the universe that it had happened differently— had it gone the way it was planned, you never would've acknowledged the existence of the enigma that is lee minho, sure, he hates your guts now but hey, maybe you could try to befriend him still once the misunderstanding is gone.

though before you could open your mouth to say anything else, he pipes up once again, "but don't worry! i know you aren't interested, shuhua told me the whole ordeal. just wanted to drop by and say hi, in case you still didn't know who you were supposed to actually meet. i should probably go talk to lee minho as well."

without another word (nor a response from you) he gave you a light salute, a charming smile sent your way before you see him disappear in the sea of partying bodies.

being left alone seems to be a reoccurring theme tonight, you wondered where your friends are and if they're doing okay— no longer having the energy to just stand in the kitchen alone, you walked towards the same path as xiaojun, though not to follow him. you just wanted to wander around and see where it takes you in this sizeable mansion.

another one of the things that you liked about parties is being able to see people's houses— not in a weird way ofc— but you liked how it showed glimpses of the people that lived in it. you remember visiting felix's apartment for the first time after moving to university and you were in awe at the amount of bright colours that adorned his living space. with an air that smelled of baked goods, a messy kitchen to match, and floor to ceiling windows that let the sun inside. it screamed lee felix, and you loved it.

as for lucas' home, it was mostly white marbles and empty walls, though you could tell from the faint outlines that there are artworks supposedly hanging from it— the man probably hid expensive stuff away whenever he'd throw such a frat-like party, and you wouldn't blame him.

you knew lucas, though you weren't close, shuhua was always the kind of girl that was tight with everyone, so you also know that lucas likes living in his college apartment more than this house. the difference between the pristine decor of this mansion and his punk-rock apartment aesthetic couldn't be more different and you loved it.

no matter how many twists and turns you make, every corner of the house seemed to be full of people (perks of having a mansion, you can throw a party and not have a headcount limit) so you were finally accepting the fact that maybe you won't be able to find shuhua nor felix anymore.

though in your final turn, you were met with the back patio, an entryway that led to their courtyard. people jumping on pools, playing beer pong at the side, though it was still bustling, the air was fresher thanks to the outdoors and it felt more whimsical than stuffy. with the area's size, there were also some paths that led to a garden which your feet immediately turned towards.

a hedge maze. seriously? just how loaded can one be.

you were already feeling buzzed but perhaps a walk around the bushes would help sober you up, so you decided to go through the maze, a childlike wonder igniting within you as you felt like a 5-year old in a playground.

as you tried to make your way inside the maze, you hear voices in one corner, making you stop in your tracks.

"go on a date with me pleaaaaseeee~" you heard the whiney slur of a girl's voice, obviously already intoxicated.

"please leave me alone, this is making me uncomfortable." a cold voice responded that sent chills down your spine. you knew whose voice that was, though you only heard it before for a fraction of a second, that same cold tone has once been directed towards you.

"but we're supposed- to be blind dateshhh," you heard the man sigh defeatedly, not knowing what to do so you braved on making the turn. seeing the view of a pretty girl force herself onto a very distressed lee minho.

"i did not consent to whatever jisung planned."

"but—"

you cleared your throat, making your presence known before the girl could continue, though due to her drunken state, she was simply in a haze, with minho being the only one who acknowledged your presence.

"t-there you are!" you tried to plaster a lively smile, looking towards the girl. "i've been looking for you everywhere.... girl." you bit your cheek at your pathetic acting, forgetting that you didn't even know her name to pretend to be her friend.

you slowly walked closer towards them, afraid that minho might bark at you or something since he made his displeasure with your presence very obvious. but his shoulders seemed to sag with relief as you pried away the girl who has clinging onto his torso.

"let's get you sobered up, yeah?" you looked into her eyes, though she was confused, she was too drunk to even acknowledge that you're a stranger to her.

"but minho~"

you just slung her arm around your shoulder, peering away from the guy, not even wanting to exchange words as you just came back to the same path you came from.

"hey y/n, i thought you'd get lost so i came to— who's this?" you had to crane your neck up to meet lucas' eyes as he dubiously eyed the girl in your arms.

"i'm gonna be honest with you, i don't know but she seems really drunk so i got worried." you whispered to the male, not wanting minho to overhear. you see lucas cringe and roll his eyes.

"ugh, i know it's inevitable and everything but i hate trespassers who can't control themselves. i'll handle this." he said, you thanked him over and over as he took the girl from you, groaning in the process.

"thanks, lucas."

"yeah don't mind it, i'll be damned if another body gets stuck in this maze after the party— every goddamn time." you heard him tsk as he walked away with the lady in hand.

now that your current agenda was fixed by the host, you turned back to where minho was, only to no longer find him there. so you continued ahead instead, wanting to find the other exit.

before you could even make two turns, your face slammed on someone's back.

"ouch—" you massaged your nose, breathing the pain away.

"oh, sorry—"

you were face to face with minho once again, though this time, he didn't seem as horrified to face you.

"it's okay, it was my fault too." you sheepishly smiled, slightly bowing your head before trying to walk past him.

"xiaojun talked to me." he started, making you stop in your tracks.

"oh... okay?" you replied, not knowing what to say but you faced him anyways.

"i apologize for... blowing up on you. i'd like to say sorry on behalf of hwang hyunjin as well, he was way out of line. he's not really that... rude, he's just a bit overprotective."

you shot him a comforting smile alongside a thumbs up, "that's okay! water under the bridge. i'm just glad that the misunderstanding is fixed now."

he bit his cheek, seemingly in thought as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. you waited whether he still had something to say but it seemed like the conversation was over so you tried starting back on your path.

"—with me?"

you couldn't hear the first few words he muttered so you tilted your head to the side in confusion, "sorry i didn't catch that?"

"do you want to walk through the maze with me?"

shuhua always taught you how to say no— "when there's doubt, cut it out" she would always say. but for the first time, you were glad that you didn't take her advice.

though the first few minutes were awkward and silent, you and minho got into a casual conversation as the walk across the maze continued. even going as far as to invite you away from the party after you had exited the hedge.

you sat in lee minho's passenger seat (a sentence you never knew you'd ever get to say), the hair blowing on your wind as you munched on a greasy pizza from his favorite diner that you had dropped by earlier.

"y/n your saliva is raining on me." you heard him tease beside you and you gasped. the cold overlay of his voice was now gone and is replaced by a sweet tone that matched his gentle voice. his voice is one that could be compared to a beautiful melody— especially his laugh.

"rude!" you huffed, puffing your cheeks as you sat back on your chair to eat properly, turning the window up to mute the deafening wind and enjoy the serene music from his playlist instead.

minho didn't know what occurred to him when he had asked you to accompany him on a midnight drive, but he sure as hell didn't regret it. he was dismissive of girls due to a bad past experience, but he did try to find genuine connection with people. though those imagery of girls trying their best to look appealing for him in his passenger seat was a stark contrast to you.

your hair was blown out by the wind and you didn't bother fixing it. though there was a hint of makeup on your face, it was long gone from the pizza grease, your cheeks instead adorned with a smudge of hot sauce. your white tee was stained with a red hue from the drink that minnie spilled on you earlier when you had pried her away from him— and speaking of,

"thanks for earlier by the way."

"hm?" you turned towards him mid-chew and it took all of his being not to crack into a fond smile as he wiped the hot sauce away from your cheek, making you blush in embarrassment.

"for saving me from that girl." he said and you just nodded in understanding.

"you seemed very distressed, nobody deserves to be in that position. whether man or woman, having a drunk person throw themselves at you and invade your space is very uncomfortable." you said whilst eating and minho reveled at how casually you can say such things. as if you were one who walks with purity within the world.

he just hummed in response, speechless from your kind heart. he had never met someone like you before. someone who didn't seem like they're hiding themselves behind a persona that's trying to appeal to him.

"can i drive you home?"

"if it's okay with you."

meanwhile at the party...

"why the hell did you leave her alone?!" shuhua shouted at felix, though not harshly, it was simply so that they could hear each other over the booming music.

felix groaned, his shoulders sagging in defeat, "but you know how y/n is! she likes enjoying parties in her own way, i wanted to have fun too!"

shuhua rolled her eyes at the blonde, "oh really? is that why you were running up and down the stairs with a blanket on, pretending to be superman?"

"hey! i said what i said, i wanted to have fun and i was! and i knew you were gonna try and beat my ass if you found out i left y/n so i was running away."

she opted on just sending text messages your way, knowing felix was of no use. the sudden awareness of your disappearance sending soberness all over her veins.

[shushi] where are you? [you] on my way home! [shushi] bitch what? [you] hehe [shushi] are you walking home?! [shushi] felix drove us here and we're gonna spend the night [shushi] how are you getting home?? [shushi] y/n?!?

she tried ringing your phone but you were no longer answering, but she was semi-relieved at the thought of you going home. she only hoped that you could make it back safely.

"wanna find people playing games or something?" shuhua turned towards the freckled blonde as she put her phone in her pocket.

"i thought you'd never ask!"

the two walked around the mansion, finding a very distressed lucas.

"dude, why is the host looking like a bummer." shuhua greeted lucas.

"ugh, some rando woman was all over the place earlier, didn't know who she was, nobody could tell me who she was with so i had to call yuqi for help and of course she'd blow up at me— though thankfully, she seemed to recognize who it was, kim minnie or something." the two nodded, recognizing yuqi as lucas' long-time girlfriend. though she's pretty chill, she could get pretty jealous especially since lucas was used to be known as a playboy.

"i don't think that girl's from our campus." felix pointed out.

"yeah, no shit." lucas said before walking away, patting you both on the back, "i saw y/n earlier btw, she seemed fine, have fun and whatnot."

shuhua and felix both looked at each other and shrugged, taking lucas' word for it and your text replies.

as the pair entered another room, they were greeted by an arcade room— seriously, just how loaded can one be.

there were a decent amount of people inside though not stuffily so, but they recognized two faces from amongst the crowd.

han jisung and hwang hyunjin.

anger bubbled in both of your friends' stomach as they remembered the way the tall blonde had treated you so shuhua held no stops on making a beeline towards the two who were focused on a game of pacman.

"hey! what the fuck?!" hyunjin reacted as shuhua pushed him away from the machine. "what the hell did i do to you?!"

"oh, i don't know, asshole, send threatening texts much?" the two started bickering about you and the way he had treated you, with no side seemingly wanting to back down. it wasn't until jisung and felix had intervened did you two think of cooling down, being offered a cup of liquor to wash down the anger.

"you know what, i bet you suck at games anyway." shuhua mocked, tipsiness once again welcomed by her body.

"oh really? i'll bet you a hundred dollars i could beat you in... that." hyunjin countered, pointing at a racing machine.

"bet. but if i win you apologize to y/n."

hyunjin scoffed, "sure, you're gonna lose anyways."

with alcohol coursing through your body, you didn't realize that you had fallen asleep whilst trying to respond to shuhua's messages, the dizzying feeling of the liquor and trying to read in a moving vehicle being too much for you to handle.

it wasn't until you felt a hand shaking you awake did you once again spring from unconsciousness.

"wha—?" you muttered, trying to rub the sleepiness away. you saw the car parked beside the university belt, minho turned towards you from the driver's seat.

"do you stay on the campus dorms? i didn't know where to take you home."

"oh." you sheepishly reacted, shaking your head, "i live outside campus, but it's not too far from here. it's apartment xyz."

his eyebrows shot up, nodding, "that's two streets away from our place."

as he started the car once again, you sat back up, shaking the sleep off of you as you focused on the road. not wanting to embarrass yourself further by drooling all over his car seat.

as he pulled up beside your building, you took the seatbelt off, "do you want to come in for a while?"

minho was shocked at your forwardness, but as he observed your face, it seemed to paint such innocence that made him wonder whether there was even a hidden connotation to your invitation.

though he willed himself not to find out as he shook his head with your offer, "i'm the designated driver for my friends, i still have to pick them up."

you hid the slight disappointment from your face as you just shot him a smile, "alright! be careful on your drive back!"

before you could exit, he cleared his throat. "is it okay if i try to make it up to you? for what hyunjin did." you could see him avert his eyes as he scratched on his neck, the darkness of the night hiding the subtle tinge of pink in his cheeks.

"sure!" you said cheerfully, not even taking into consideration the way he had reacted when you said so, though you were tired, and half-drunk, you'd probably forget about this specific detail once you wake up— the way he had passed you his phone, asking for your number.

you were simply glad to make a new friend, and that's all there is to it.

right?

a/n: hey ya'll sorry for the long wait!! but my sunshine is officially back on track!! though my other fics are still currently on-hold, i'm now starting to get back to regular (erratic) scheduled programming <3 thank you so much for the patience and understanding!

updates: weekly to bi-weekly

taglist: @jakesahi @seungmoz @yangyanghasnotoes @softforqiankun @felixs-freckles-forever @staysstrays @eajone @softyfor-sweaterpaws @softy-ficrec @trials--error @jin-neck-shaft @luvshye @nycol-ie @ninjaleeknow @helpsplease @thethreedemons @heartowl @thethreedemons @am3l1a-24 @jjyusmile @hyuckslytherin

couldn’t tag: @changbinsworld

mastertag: @leagreenly @geniejunn @90s-belladonna @loveliebri @fuzzylard

comment, reblog, or send an ask if you wanna be reminded ^^.

#lee minho smau #minho skz #minho smau #skz smau #stray kids smau #stray kids social media au #skz social media au #skz #stray kids

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