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zepskies · 6 months

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A Little Danger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader (Latina)

Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

AN: Couch sex, basically. This is another one for the Espresso-verse! Includes a call back to Devour Me.

Word Count: 2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smutty smut in a semi-public place. Hair pulling, flirty teasing, endearments, “twist” ending.

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Usually, Dean likes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair.

Like now, on a rare day of quiet relaxation after a long hunt. When Mary’s out and Sam’s on a grocery run. And Dean’s laid out across the couch in the library, arms crossed, earbuds in while Zeppelin’s “Going to California” plays in stereo, his head and shoulders resting against your plush thigh.

Your feet are propped up on the coffee table, your mostly bare legs crossed at the ankles. You have a book in one hand while you’ve been absently massaging his head…

But when you start to get weary of reading, in your boredom, your clever fingers become less soothing through his light brown hair, and more playful in their ministrations. You start to push his hair in the opposite direction, making it spike forward in disarray.

Dean frowns. You can’t see it, but you sense the change, in the way he stops bobbing his head lightly in time with the music.

You bite back a smile and continue your little game, even tugging a little on the strands when you push them forward. Like rubbing a cat the wrong way.

Letting out an annoyed breath through his nose, Dean takes out one earbud.

“What. Are you doing?” he asks.

It takes everything within you not to laugh.

“You’re my erizito,” you reply, smiling. You take a peek at his profile and catch the way his brows furrow.

“What the hell’s that?” he asks.

“My little hedgehog,” you translate the Spanish endearment for him, and you tease him, tugging again on his soft strands.

You finally have to giggle at the way he looks back at you from the corner of his eye. You get maybe one more time to sweep your fingers through his hair the wrong way, before he grabs your hand and turns over.

Your resulting squeal turns into laughter when he yanks his earbuds off and plucks your book out of your hand.

“Eh, eh! Don’t lose my place,” you warn, stopping him from closing the book all the way. He allows you to dog-ear your page, but he then tosses the book onto the coffee table to join his phone and earbuds.

“Come ‘ere,” he mutters.

Then he grabs your crossed legs and manhandles you beneath him on the couch. You allow it with a yelp of surprise and much giggling when he jostles you, pulling you down by your hips. Dean lowers himself between your legs, where he’s so often welcome, and settles his body over yours.

You smirk in his face. His hair is all kinds of fucked up.

He can see you’re admiring your handiwork. Little hedgehog, huh?

With a shake of his head, he bows down and silences your teasing with a kiss.

Your eyes fall closed. You breathe in and utter a sound of contentment. You frame his face with your hands and follow the familiar dance of his lips against yours.

A delicious push and pull that has his teeth grazing your full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair. His other arm is perched high above your head, giving him leverage to completely cage you with his broad, heavy frame.

But it’s a good heavy. You like the feel of him laid out over you, protective and claiming all at once. And he likes the feeling of every soft curve of yours; thighs, breasts, and soft middle all a welcoming place for him to rest—and then ravage.

His lips veer away from your mouth, allowing you both to catch your breath. He burns a warm, sloppy path along your jawline. You wrap your arms around him and splay your hands across his back. They slide lower as he moves down, and down your neck.

“Babe,” you prompt quietly in his ear. You can’t help but smile. “We’ve gotten in trouble on this couch before.”

As in, you both have been caught buck ass naked and tangled together on this couch. By his brother. Twice.

Dean smirks, just before he starts to tease the shell of your ear with his tongue.

“Tell me you don’t like a little danger,” he says.

Right, you think, with a shudder at his tongue. Or, he just has no fucking shame.

You have to giggle regardless. The trembling in your chest moves both of you, makes the shape of Dean’s smile press into your skin. He continues his downward path and rucks up your shirt.

Your knees bend further on reflex and squeeze his hips when his tongue dips between your breasts, still pushed up by your bra. You arch your back so he can slip a hand under your back and unclip the white lace. He slides it off your body, along with getting your shirt up and over your head.

Your hands dive under his layers of red plaid and black undershirt, sliding up and down the smooth slopes of his back, grazing with your nails, getting him worked up enough to have him yank off the layers himself.

He’s left in his jeans, which begin to find friction against your clothed center through the little shorts you often wear around the bunker. Dean both likes them and hates them.

Likes them, because you fill them out well, and he likes getting a handful of your ass (like he’s doing now, while he begins to rock the hard bulge in his jeans against your core while kissing you hungrily).

He also hates these little spandex shorts, because he’d rather his brother not get to see you in them. Still, Dean gets too much enjoyment out of slipping his fingers under them, squeezing your thigh, letting his thumb brush down towards your center.

Already your pussy’s throbbing.

“Need you,” you pant against his lips.

It’s been a bit too long since you two have had this kind of time alone together, not to mention the energy to fool around. It’s making you not really give a fuck about being out in the open in the middle of the library, when your shared bedroom is just down the hall.

Dean nods, then he finally palms one of your breasts like he’s reacquainting himself with an old friend. He rolls a budding nipple between his fingers and moans when he gets the other into his mouth, swirling with his tongue.

He drags a moan out of you too. You delve your hand into his wrecked hair and grip tight to keep him there.

You find yourself writhing underneath him, your hips rolling against his with need.

“Dean…” Your voice is pleading.

“Okay, I gotcha,” he says against your skin. He drags down your little shorts by the hem and reveals bare ass against the couch cushions. He hums with interest. “No panties today?”

“Surprised you didn’t notice,” you quip.

Though you do the work of unclipping his belt and helping him shimmy out of the jeans, letting them pool to the floor alongside your clothes. You roll down his boxer briefs far enough to let his cock spring free. He grabs your arm and utters a deep groan at the way you handle him, with a gentle but firm hand along his shaft.

“Guess I’ve been distracted,” he admits. He presses a forehead against your shoulder and bucks into your hand, the more you tease him. “Fuck, how long’s it been since—”

“A couple weeks,” you answer him. You begin to kiss down his neck, occasionally nipping his skin. “Too long.”

“Too damn long,” he agrees, with another sound of pleasure. He stops your hand so he can concentrate on getting you ready. He slips a long finger down your slit and between the wet folds of your pussy, where you’re already soaking for him, coating his digit.

“Fuck,” he mutters again, “all this for me, baby?”

You breathe a laugh and drag your nails down the back of his neck. “Always.”

Dean grins. Just to be thorough, he slips two fingers into your wet channel. He revels at the way you hold him close by the back of his neck and moan encouragements into his ear. But you cry out when his thumb finds your clit, and circles it with precision. Then the rest of his fingers open you up and rub against your most sensitive places.

As your inner walls tighten, so does your hand; it moves back into his hair so you have something better to hold onto.

“Dean,” you utter a warning. He nods and withdraws his hand from inside you. He peeks over the couch again, just to make sure no one’s coming. You both know this is about to be quick and dirty.

You both are panting when he grasps your hips and gives himself a better angle. You hook your thighs around his waist and give him an encouraging nod. With that, Dean positions himself at your entrance and slowly sheathes his cock deep inside you.

You release a shuddering breath, pressing your head back into the cushions. Your hair is a tangled mess fanning underneath you. He still has a hand planted on the couch’s arm above your head; you grasp his arm for stability. Dean rubs one of your thighs, in part to also get himself together as your inner walls spasm tight around him.

Fuck, it has been a while.

But he’s making up for lost time. He gives you long, steady strokes at first, letting you feel every inch of his cock as he drives back into you. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine and you arch against him, your hands clasped on his arms.

Your heels pressing into his ass spur him on and speed up his rhythm, until he’s hitting so hard and deep against your cervix that it almost hurts. It’s a mix of intense pleasure tinged with that briefest bit of pain as he also hits your G-spot over and over.

But a few purposeful swipes of his thumb over your clit ensures that you come with him when he finally spills into you. He buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder, and a ragged grunt rolls from his throat as his release truly hits him.

You hold him to you, your own thighs quivering along with his last few strokes inside you. That hot coil snaps and you let out a gasping moan—one he swallows up with a deep kiss.

“Jesus,” you breathe, after he releases your lips. Dean catches his breath and gives you a shrug, despite his smug grin.

You smirk and once again sweep your hand through his ridiculous hair. It’s even more wild than before. You pull your hands through it, sliding down his neck on both sides.

“I stand corrected,” you say slyly. “Now you’re my erizote.”

Dean snorts. “And that would be?”

“My big hedgehog,” you tease.

Dean rolls his eyes, even as his face warms. He tries not to laugh in the face of your unending giggles.

Neither of you register the footsteps coming closer until it’s just about too late.

“Dean, are you—Oh!”

His face falls, and his eyes widen when they meet his mother’s over the back of the couch.

“Shit!” he exclaims, covering you with his body when you gasp. But it’s not really you that you’re worried about her seeing.

No mother should have to see her adult son’s naked ass.

Mary stands there behind the couch with her hand over her eyes.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t see…anything,” she says. Usually she’s a better liar.

“I’m so sorry, Mary,” you try to say, but she waves you off.

“Just…clean the sofa. Okay, guys?” she says. Then she walks away without looking back.

Dean grimaces like he’s in pain.

“Sorry, Mom,” He calls to her retreating back.

He releases a breath and lowers his forehead into the crook of your neck. Your body shakes with involuntary giggles while you hold him, soothing him with a caress of his cheek. He’s still buried deep inside you, but by now he’s released your thighs from being wrapped around his hips.

“At least it wasn’t Sam this time,” you offer.

“I don’t know what’s worse at this point,” Dean grumbles.

You bite your lip. “Well, I mean, I did warn you—”

Dean gives you a playful slap on the ass to shut you up. But your resulting squeal and laughter just makes him smile.

AN: 😅 This one-shot started out innocent, I swear. What was once a simple "chilling on the couch" drabble turned into smut somehow, but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think. 😘

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "In Bad Weather." It acts as the finale of the Espresso-verse, though I'm still writing stories within the world to fill in the gaps when different prompts come to mind:

Summary: You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along? [Set in S15 - “Fix It” for season finale]

▶️ Next Story: In Bad Weather

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords

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prettyjesusfreaks · 2 months

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in need of prayer warriors

let me put it this way: i was the worst of the worst. drugs, witchcraft, sex... you name it. i'm not sure when exactly i walked away from God, but walk away i did. i remember a few times when i called myself a Christian when asked. it didn't feel right to disobey... but then i would get wrapped up in everything from wicca to luciferianism (satanism). when i tried to talk to God, i would try to twist the Bible to suit my interests, or i would out and out deny the truth of certain scriptures. on and on it went for years. it was only in 2018, after suffering from severe schizophrenia for years, that i bought myself a bible - but that was just the beginning of an uphill battle. apostate. backslider. i don't know what i should be called. i just know that i walked away.

now i'm here. something is different this time. since buying that bible in 2018, i have tried multiple times to come back to God - but i could never make it last! i'd get angry about the suffering in hell. i'd be hurt that this or that thing was a deadly sin. i struggled with difficult verses and interpreted them in the worst way. i was attacked by intrusive thoughts. i tried. i'd give up, and then, later, i'd try again. it is only now that my heart is at peace. i can actually FEEL the presence of the Holy Spirit inside. i know it. i'm still just... scared. scared that it isn't real when i KNOW it is. heck, i'm scared that just voicing my fears counts as blasphemy against the Holy Spirit.

i'm suffering. i just want it to last this time. i just want it to last. please pray for me. if you made it to the end of this long and winding post, please, just pray for me. pray that God's grace is sufficient for my failures. pray that i may find peace in my spirit. please.

Love,

Samantha

#urgent prayer request #prayer request #christblr #christianity #jesus freak speaks #christian blog #protestant #jesus loves you #belief in jesus #christian tumblr #help #please help #religion #faith #women of faith

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mostly-marvel-musings · 9 days

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The suit stays on

A/N: What? How’d this happen? I don’t even know. But it did. Here it is. I am back in the Jackman-verse now, voluntarily and irrevocably. I want to thank @stark-ironman for all the thirst trap pictures and encouragement 🩵 Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story!

Pairing: Hugh Jackman x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ smut. Minors DNI.

Main Masterlist

“Oh no, the suit stays on.”

You had whispered against his ear when he was about to strip; you were at the end of your tether watching him strut his stuff for hours wearing that criminal outfit.

The ache between your legs had got to a point where you’d lost the ability to think straight. It wasn’t like your needs weren’t satiated mere hours ago, wasn’t like you were deprived of that gorgeous body that could only have been chiseled by the Gods, no.

You were well aware of how greedy you were being, but all your sense of rationality had found its way out the door when you’d seen your man walk out in the suit. The little salt and pepper bristle only added his sex appeal, making for additional friction each time it brushed against the most sensitive parts of you.

“Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” He had grunted, wrapping a hand around your throat with enough pressure that it walked a thin line between pleasure and pain. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Only when it comes to you.” You choked, smirking as you were rewarded with everything you had hoped for.

His cock travelled to the deepest parts of you, brushing the very spot that had you seeing stars as your walls clenched around him. Lust travelled over your skin leaving trails of goose-pimples while he impaled you, stoking the fire that burned deep within your core.

You wanted the man. No. You craved him. In every way. How was one ever supposed to get enough of Hugh Jackman?

You certainly weren’t opposed when he pulled out all of a sudden, only to bend you over the nearest desk, uncaring about the mess you’d already made. A primal grunt resounded off the thin walls as he entered your sopping heat again, not holding back at all this time.

With every thrust, you gripped the edge of the table tighter until your knuckles turned white, your climax approaching quick as you felt your thighs begin to twitch involuntarily.

“I—I’m so close—” you whimpered, revelling in the way his hips snapped against yours in an urgency you both felt.

“I know. Be a good girl and come all over this cock.”

Like the most obedient of students, your body willingly obliged to his command, making the coil inside your belly snap into smithereens. Your orgasm crashed over you like a violent wave, making your walls flutter as you cried out his name.

Reality was a mere distant thought as you allowed yourself to float on a cloud of ecstasy, your heart beating erratically against your ribcage and throbbing down there. You faintly registered his cum spilling on your lower back as he climaxed, making the most sinful noises that were music to your ears.

Cleaning up consisted mostly of lazy kisses and a crafty grin that refused to leave your lips. You had gotten your way again and you both knew it would continue in the future.

What do we think? It’s my first time writing for this man. (Will it be the last? Idk yet) ALSO I CAN’T WITH THIS LOOK 🫠

#hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman imagines #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman #hugh jackman one shot #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman x female reader #marvel fanfiction #mostly marvel musings

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latenightdaydreams · 27 days

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König x First Meeting (fem)

MDNI🔞

I'm sorry for not posting as often as I usually do! There has been a lot of things going on in my personal life, but I promise to be back on my normal schedule soon! ILY all and thank you so much for everyone's patience and grace🩷 I hope you all have a great day/night!!

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, fluff, sexual thoughts

1.4k word count.

📻

Over the last three years, you’ve always just been a soft voice on the other side of König’s radio. What was first professional talk only quickly turned into deep conversations and flirting. Every mission he can rely on you to always be there. You’ve been able to help him out of terrible situations, causing the bond to grow stronger. It helps that your voice is so feminine and soothing to him.

Even though you both have never met face to face, he’s developed deep feelings for you. Other than your first name, he knows nothing about you. Are you married? Do you like men? That doesn’t really matter; men like König aren’t built for relationships, so he’s never sought you out. Why ruin something good?

König has just returned from a successful mission, his team put together a small party at the local bar for him. He sat at the bar with Horangi as everyone else spread out across the bar. In the middle of the story Horangi was telling him, he hears your voice. His eyes widen as he looks around trying to find you. Then you speak again.

The light coming in from the windows behind you formed a halo of golden rays around your body, framing your stunning shape. It’s as if König was looking at an angel, a dream come true. He places a hand on Horangi’s shoulder as to excuse himself as his feet guide him to you.

“Y/n? Is that really you?” König asks as his eyes travel all over your body as he stops a few feet from you.

“König!” You respond in such a happy tone, your lips curving into the sweetest smile he’s ever seen. He is a massive man; in height and in muscle mass. While you can’t see his face, you can see his beautiful pale eyes.

“Y- you’re here. In the flesh.”

He is trying his best to be respectful, but finding it hard to take his eyes away from your body. To see you, the body, the face, to match your voice; he feels as if this just confirms that he’s in love with you. This is exactly what he was worried would happen if you two ever met.

“It’s nice to finally meet you face to face.” His eyes meet yours once more as he holds his hand out for you to shake.

The sweet familiar giggle leaves your lips as you brush past his hand and wrap your arms around him for a hug. “There’s no need to be so formal.” You tease, causing his cheeks to turn red underneath his mask.

König wraps his arms around you, returning the hug. You’re so much smaller than him that your head barely reaches his chest. He leans down slightly and takes a deep breath. You smell like a breezy spring day. Everything about you screams home to him, he came picture himself coming home every day and burying his head between your breasts and letting the stress of the day melt off.

When the hug ends, he can still feel his body tingle where you touched him. His icy blue eyes are stuck on you, trying to study every little part of you that he can. He notices your eyes travel over his body as well, giving him an ego boost.

“Congratulations on your work.” You say grabbing his gloved hand.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Süße.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he squeezes your hand slightly. There are so many words fighting to be said, but he doesn’t know where to begin. “Would you like to sit together and chat?”

“I would.”

Horangi turns in his seat to see König walking hand in hand with you. He raises his eyebrow and shrugs, getting up to join the crowd of people to give you both some time alone. You sit, sliding into one side of the booth and König ops to sit beside you verses across from you. He can’t take his eyes off of you or stop touching you. Three years of only knowing your voice. Three years of joking, flirting, and life saving advice.

“You’re a lot taller than I thought you’d be.” You say softly as you gaze down at his hand caressing your upper thigh through the fabric of your jeans. The sexual tension between the both of you is insane.

König chuckles at your comment while nodding his head. “I am. I’m a big man, kleine Taube.” Your thighs are so deliciously thick, he can only imagine what they would feel like underneath the fabric of your pants. His eyes drop to your cleavage before traveling back up to your eyes. “It’s crazy to finally put a face to the voice.”

“Hopefully a cute face.” You smirk and chuckle.

“A beautiful face. You’re so beautiful and small.” His face heats up at his words as his mind begins to wander about what it would be like to have you completely to himself.

“Well, thank you König. I can’t see your face but I imagine it’s just as attractive as your voice.”

He leans back in the booth and laughs, shaking his head in disagreement. “I have scars, Taube. Graying hair.” His eyes travel from your eyes to your soft pillowy kissable lips then back up.

“Maybe I’m into that.” You smirk.

It’s just like speaking to you have the radio, you’re just as flirty and confident in person and that’s very attractive to König. His hand on your thigh squeezes twice before he shifts his body to face you more. The hand moves from your thigh so he can remove his gloves, showing off his pale large hands. His fingers dance across your small palm before linking fingers with you. You place your free hand on his arms, caressing his muscular bicep. His pants grow tight on him as he feels his cock begin to harden.

Before anything else can be said, Horangi brings over two shots for the both of you. He has a sly smirk on his face as he passes one to you and then to König. “Celebration shot!” Horangi gleefully shouts.

You reach for yours and then look at König and wait for him to grab his. He does and watches you closely waiting to see what you will do. When you bring the small glass up to your lips and drink the harsh liquor with no reaction his cock twitches. What he wouldn’t give to see your lips wrap around him instead.

König looks at you and lifts up his mask, exposing his lips to you. You can see a scar coming from his cheek down past his lip to his chin. He takes the shot quickly, but before he can drop his mask you lean up and kiss him. Your lips fall on his cheek, but the corners of your lips touch and it drives him mad.

He looks down at you for a moment, not reacting while he attempts to gather his thoughts so he doesn’t just bend you over this table and fuck you in front of the whole bar. One of his hands comes up and caresses the side of your face as he leans in to kiss you again. His lips are soft and delicate at first. Slowly his lips move against yours in a more possessive and passionate heat.

Your lips feel just as soft as clouds, you smell and taste so sweet. His hand slips down your body, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. The kiss intensifies as he feels your lip’s part. He wastes no time; the tip of his tongue runs across your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth.

A small hum rumbles from his chest as he moves his hand up and down your back, moving to your side to explore your curves. You feel so perfect in his hands. You taste so good on his tongue. There is no one else. You are the one.

König pulls back from the kiss; his eyes look down into yours. All he wants to do is ravish your body and get to know every inch of you, but he knows he should take you out first. You’re more than just a hookup, he can build a future with you. He thinks for a moment, letting his eyes trail down your body once more before speaking. “Would you like to go on a date?”

“I would love to.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What time?”

“I’m free all day, Süße. You can take as much of it as you want.” You could take the air from his lungs and he’d die a happy man.

“I want it all.”

König smirks at your response. His hand lingers on your upper thigh once more, letting his fingers rest on your inner thigh. “You can have it all. Anything for my Taube.”

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justauthoring · 2 months

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Shadow of Yourself [13/18]

Prompt: “You’ve changed, Eli. I barely even know who you are right now.”

A/N: WHEN I TELL YOU I AM SO EXCITED

Based off of: Cobra Kai 05x01, 05x02, 05x03 and 05x04 Warnings: some swear words (because tumblr apparently doesn’t like that), poorly written fight scenes (i swear, i struggle so much) Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x F!Reader

Tag List: @moonydrafts - @ashwhowrites - @traveleraroundsworld - @truly-abysmal - @likecherriesinthespring - @hollxe1 - @asonofpeter - @scarlett-verse - @musically-ambiguous - @kayda1 - @moon-zoons - @dwcode - @day-dreamsinthedark - @leilani788 - @silvermagnolias - @hawkinsavclub - @animewolflover278 - @gruffle1 - @b-tchymoon - @maggiecc - @beetea38 - @hawkinsavclub1983 - @crpytids - @embersparklz - @kimilight - @httpjiikook - @marauderssmut - @fyckcore - @multinci - @lqveabby - @oh-well-whatever-nevermind - @redskull199987 - @silvermagnolias - @shortneko - @okjaeminn - @thecyclonetragedy - @vamproq - @siriusfahey - @cobrakaigirlie - @kaylinfayezink - @oursuh - @aphroditelxver - @minl0u - @cherrywinepoison - @bath1lda - @fixalice - @fallsofserinity - @maisieibae - @ssrcsm - @notplutos - @kaitieskidmore1 - @httpvomitello - @nichmeddar - @rafaelajonerr - @lazyneonrabbitt - @belleoftheball28 - @httpvomitello - @nichmeddar - @rafaeljonerr - @lazyneonrabbitt

IT'S NOT SO EASY:

“So…”

Pausing a moment, the both of your eyes meet, and after a beat of silence, laughter echoes.

“Remind me again why we’re being so awkward with each other?”

Across the table, Eli lets out another laugh, this time more light-hearted and a bit more relaxed as he takes in your grin and teasing expression. “Dunno,” he shrugs, but then, winces just faintly. “Maybe because this is our first real date…”

Your brows furrow, head tilting; “I mean, there was that—”

“No, no,” he hurriedly cuts in, waving his hands wildly before him. His face burns a little and his eyes avoid yours as he moves to explain; “we don’t talk about that first date. I was an ass. And I didn’t even try to think of doing something you’d like.”

Heart warming at his words, your cheeks warm as you move your gaze towards your lap, twiddling with your thumbs idly as you think back to that date. Eli definitely wasn’t wrong, and although you’d been about to deny his words originally, he seemed self aware of the fact enough for you to not have to say anything. Because at the end of the day, he was right—that first date hadn’t been anything like you’d once thought your first date with Eli would be like.

And that was, truly, the beginning of when everything went wrong.

Truth be told, you’re not all that interested in delving into that, especially not when it was so abundantly clear how far Eli had grown and how regretful he was of his past actions. Sure, maybe you were more lenient towards his past actions than you could be given how strong your feelings for Eli truly were but… but Eli had apologized. Not just to you but everyone he had harmed and he continuously tried to do right from his past.

That was more than enough for you.

So, with a simple nod, you brush off his words, sitting forward and towards him as you offer a small smile. “It’s in the past,” you assure with a simply shrug of your shoulders. “Besides, this isn’t about then, it’s about us now.” Reaching across the table, you take Eli’s hand in your own, feeling your heart flutter at the rather forward action but the second Eli moves to thread his fingers through your own in return, the worry dissipates. “And I’m glad you asked me out on this date today.”

Reassured at that, Eli’s grin practically beams. The confidence that Eli had found through everything radiates off of him but not in the way it had before – it’s positive, it’s kind and he makes you so unbelievably happy to see.

You loved the old Eli, but this Eli was refreshing and warming.

You relished in the change you never properly got to experience before. You never would’ve traded the only Eli for anything but you definitely could start to appreciate him now.

“I’m glad,” Eli nods. “Demetri said I should take you on one too, especially after everything… He proclaimed he was a master of ‘love’ nowadays and I best listen to his advice.” Eli rolls his eyes but the fond expression for his best friend is undeniable.

“I mean, he did manage to convince Yasmine, who hated us, to date him so…” You trail off at that, still finding the whole situation strange. You couldn’t deny that Demetri had always liked Yasmine, despite her previous behaviour and you also couldn’t deny that it seemed, now at least, Yasmine did truly return his feelings—still, it was odd for you despite everything. Even if you knew the girl was doing her best to make up for everything.

“True,” Eli laughs. Then, he hesitates; “so, was he right then?”

Lips parting, you meet his eyes, watching as he gestures around him. You follow his gesture, taking another look at the cute little diner Eli had taken you to for lunch. It wasn’t really what you’d been expecting when he’d asked you out in the first place — having just assumed the two of you would get up to what you used to before Hawk and when you two were best friends. Maybe an arcade or the comic store.

You knew Eli, now that he’d moved on from that, went back to a lot of his old interests while keeping some of the new. Demetri and you had spent a whole day catching Eli up on what he’d missed in regards to all your ‘nerdy’ things that bonded you guys together in the first place. So, you’d kind of just assumed that even though you guys were dating, that that would be much of the same.

Not to say you didn’t like where he had taken you – because you most definitely did. It was just so much more… intimate. Sure, that made sense because the two of you were dating but you hadn’t had the chance to make that step yet. Not completely. Sure, you’d kissed, held hands, that sort of thing and it wasn’t like this was either of yours first time together; that had been a regular thing even when you two were friends. You and Eli had always spent a lot of time together; separate or with Demetri.

But this? This was… closer. The aura of the fact that it was a date and pretty much your first date very much hung over the air and although the idea had you feeling giddy, it also had you feeling incredibly nervous.

How did you act? Should you act like you always did with Eli? Should you be… different?

It was already hard enough knowing what you were supposed to wear… that had been a whole ordeal of it’s own and if it hadn’t been for Moon and Sam you’re almost positive you would’ve had a panic attack before the date and that would’ve led to nothing but disaster.

The truth of the matter was you may have been the one to question yours and Eli’s awkwardness, trying to assure him that there was no reason to be awkward – when you very much felt like a bundle of nerves that made you stiff and tense and probably looking like a complete and total fool.

Realizing you’d spaced out and Eli was waiting, nervously, for an answer, you rush to answer.

“Uh, y-yes!” You practically squeak out and instantly, you feel your cheeks grow hot (rather than warm) and you panic (even more). “Yes, i’m-i’m sorry. I love this place and it’s so cute and, oh–um–” Meeting his concerned expression, you cave in on yourself. “Sorry,” you sigh, giving up, “I know I told you there was no reason to be but… I’m nervous.”

Eli squeezes your hand. “It’s okay,” he assures softly. “I still am too.”

Laughing lightly, you feel your body ease somewhat. “I guess… I just don’t know how I’m supposed to act… We jumped right into a relationship after everything and I feel like we never even repaired our friendship first—not completely at least.”

Something heartbroken crosses Eli’s expression and his grip on your hand wavers as he frowns. “Are you saying you just want to be friends?”

“What? No!” you exclaim, eyes widening as you realize how your words sounded. “No, no… not at all. I… I don’t want to be just friends. I spent years hiding my feelings for you and I don’t want to go back to acting like that. I just–Eli, I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” you confess, embarrassed at your own words. “Before everything, you and Demetri were the only two people I talked to. Everything is so different now. I mean… I actually have girls who want to be my friend.”

Eli smiles at that, admiring the genuine smile that unconsciously curls on your lips at that.

“It’s all just so different and I’m just afraid you’ll realize I’m not actually someone you want to be with.”

The smile instantly fades from Eli’s lips.

“Are you crazy?” He asks, eyes wide with disbelief.

You blink back at him.

“Y/N,” he calls, expression morphing into something serious as he shakes his head at you. “I spent all those years hiding my feelings for you too, Y/N. And then when I finally told you, I went and screwed it all up. I know what I did was wrong and I know I broke your heart kissing Moon that night. And I know it wasn’t right or fair to you or Moon but the entire time I was with Moon–and after–all I thought about was you.”

Stunned by his confession, you just stare back at him, lips parted and unable to find the words.

“What I did wasn’t right and I’ll forever be sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t deserve you but you’ve been willing to give me a second–hell, third chance and I don’t want to mess it up. I won’t.” He promises, nodding to himself. “You don’t have to be anything and I don’t expect anything. We’ll take it at your pace and all you have to do is be yourself.”

His words wash a calm over you, the tensed muscles in your body instantly easing as you fall back into your chair. You gradually feel less self-conscious about yourself or the way you act, talk–anything. Eli’s words are genuine, you can hear the sincerity in them, and the way he’s looking at you makes you feel all types of butterflies in your stomach; this time, though, they’re good.

“You really mean that?”

“Of course,” he says without hesitation. “This might be early and you don’t have to say it back, but, I love you. I have since that day you stood up for me from that asshole in middle school.”

Giggling at the thought you shake your head. “You know I love you too.”

Smiling, eyes twinkling, Eli nods. “Don’t be nervous, okay? I just want to spend time with you.”

And that’s all you need to hear.

“Desperate,” Yasmine laughs, reading the texts Miguel had just sent Sam. “But cute.”

You snort, “I can almost guarantee that Demetri and Eli are there with them.” All three girls look at you and you just shrug, taking a sip of your drink. “Miguel knows he’s in deep shit, Demetri probably told him to send you that.”

“Demetri?” Sam quirks a brow, doubting your words.

“He thinks he’s some sort of ‘love-genius’,” you make sure to add to your words with some air quotation marks. “Because of you, Yasmine.”

Although her cheeks flush, she doesn’t deny it. “He is,” and then at the looks she receives, she shrugs. “What? He is.”

Shaking her head, Sam pulls the focus back on what you’d all been called there for in the first place – her and Miguel. “I just feel like things have been off lately,” she explains, frowning. “There’s so much I wanna say. Maybe I should just… lay it all out?”

Without missing a beat, Yasmine reaches across the table to grab Sam’s phone. “No,” she squeaks, “no, less it more.”

“I’m with Yas,” Moon speaks up, nodding at Sam with a gentle expression. “It’s better to have these conversations in person.”

Sam looks at you, then.

You shake your head; “I know it’d be easier over text but Miguel deserves to know exactly how you’re feeling. And he has to do the same for you.”

“Mm-hm,” Yasmine hums, finishing typing on Sam’s phone and holding it out towards her. “Keep it short, not sweet.”

Leaning over Sam’s shoulder, you read Yasmine’s text, wincing.

“‘I’m okay’,” Sam reads aloud. “Should I add a smiley face or something?”

“No!”

“Definitely!”

Both Yasmine and Moon look at each other.

“It’s up to you,” you offer, albeit maybe unhelpfully.

Huffing, you watch as Sam presses the send button – no emoji.

“Well,” Moon adds after a moment of tense silence. “Should we head over? Our appointment time is coming up.”

Just then, a ding comes from your phone. Setting your bag that you’d grabbed to leave down, you open your phone, smiling unconsciously when you notice the text is from Eli.

hey, got the tattoo covered up

There’s a pause, then another text;

i know you’re hanging out with moon and stuff today, but did you wanna see?

A second later, another final text follows;

i also wanna see you :)

Any futile thought of declining him quickly disappears once you read his final text. Fully still in the ‘honeymoon’ phase of your relationship and especially having worked out any weird kinks between the two of you during your last date, you were more than desperate to see Eli. You’d finally gotten him back and you wanted to see him as much as possible.

Turning to your friends, you hesitate.

They’re all standing, bags in hand and ready to leave, looking back at you expectantly. Sam raises a brow at the expression on your face.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry!” You cry, clasping your hands out before you, begging for your forgiveness. “I was gonna go but Eli got his new tattoo and he wants to—”

“Pssh,” Yasmine cuts in, waving her hand at you. “Just go. We all know how much the two of you are into each other.” Then, pausing, she glances at Moon. “I mean–”

Moon just laughs. “It’s fine. I’m happy for Eli and Y/N.” Then, turning to you, she grins wide, sending you a thumbs up. “Go see him. We have plans to hang all together at the new waterpark anyways.”

Easing a bit, you turn to Sam, hopeful.

She just shrugs. “Go have fun.”

Letting out a squeal of excitement, you jump to your feet, taking all three of them into your arms and squeezing them tightly. Sam leans into it while Moon just laughs, hugging you back with her one arm. Yamine, to the right of you, tenses, unsure of the action but when you let go and beam at her, she follows with a small smile of her own.

Things were still a little awkward between the two of you (naturally) but she was trying and how could not respect that considering everything?

“Thank you!” You say, waving at them as you hurriedly move to make your way out of the coffee shop.

“Well,” Sam says after watching you leave. “At least someone is having good luck in their relationship.”

“Me and Demetri are doing quite well, too, actually,” Yasmine offers.

Sam just glares at her.

“Give it.”

You stare at Moon. “I’d rather not.”

Hand still left out stretched, Moon just shakes her head with a reassuring smile. “Y/N. Come on.”

You eye her for a moment longer, before lowering your gaze towards your body. You glance at the baggy t-shirt you’d thrown on before leaving your house earlier, and frown. “I don’t wanna take it off,” you mumble. “I-It’s cold.”

“Cold?” Yasmine snorts, “really?”

Glaring at her, you scoff. “Yes.”

“Y/N,” Sam calls, glancing up from her book as she smiles at you. “It’s fine, come on. It’s a nice, warm summer day at the pool. Take off your shirt.”

Raising a brow, you gesture to her; “you’re still wearing yours.”

“It’s a tank,” she bluntly reminds. “Cropped.”

You just frown back at her, fingers gripping your shirt tightly.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Moon speaks up, pulling your eyes back on her as she smiles brightly at you. “Just give me the shirt. No one here will judge you, I promise. Besides, you’re hot. And you should show it off.”

Hesitating at her words, you hug yourself; “I really doubt—”

“Oh my god! Y/N! Just take off your shirt!” Yasmine exclaims, obviously frustrated at your lack of compliance, hands falling by her sides in frustration as you glance back at her. Shaking her head at you, she shrugs. “Moon’s right, you’re hot. Why are you so worried about it?”

Giving her a dead-panned stare, you lean towards her. “Oh, I don’t know… could it be because of a certain somebody who bullied me for years about my appearance?”

Sure, Yasmine had changed. Sure, she was trying to be better. Didn’t mean her years of torment were forgotten.

Frustration wiping clean from her face, Yasmine frowns. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, “oh.”

“Y/N.”

You sigh, turning back to Moon.

“Give it.”

Her hand stretches out towards you further and by the look on her face, you know there’s no arguing further.

So, ignoring the nerves bundling in your stomach, you reach for the hem of your shirt. It only takes one more glance at hers and Sam’s reassuring smile before you’re pulling the shirt up and over your head, reluctantly setting it in Moon’s awaiting hands so you can resist the urge to put it back on right away.

She grins, pleased, the second you give it to her, tucking it away beside her (on the opposite side of you) and nodding.

“See? Everything’s fine.” She gestures around to everyone that isn’t even glancing your way, completely in their own worlds. “Besides, we invited the boys, right? So… Eli’s coming.”

Flushing, you glance away from her, hugging your stomach to try and cover yourself; “I definitely don’t want him to see me.”

Yasmine scoffs at that, “please. Everyone can tell the boy is in love with you. I wouldn’t worry.”

And, you figure, in her own way, that’s Yasmine trying to reassure you.

“Yas is right, Y/N,” Moon nods eagerly. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Inhaling deeply, you nod, trying to settle your nerves as you lean back against the beach chair. You force your arms to your sides, fighting the urge to cover yourself, and try to focus on the feeling of the warm sun hitting your skin. It wasn’t often you got to relax like this, and especially not with three girlfriends – you really should try to ignore it.

“Wait,” Sam speaks up a second later. “Boys?”

You and Moon glance at each other wide-eyed.

“Sorry, Sam… I totally forgot me and Y/N invited them…” Moon trails off, a guilty expression on her face as you both look at her.

Leaning over Moon’s shoulder to meet Sam’s eyes, you’re quick to add; “I can text Eli to not come if—”

“Hey, babe!”

You silently curse at the sound of Eli’s voice.

Nerves forgotten, you glance over your shoulder, seeing him and Miguel making their way over to the four of you, a bright grin on Eli’s face as he waves at you. Offering him a small wave back, you turn back to Sam; “seriously, I can—”

“It’s fine, really. I promise,” she reassures with a shake of her head. “I mean, this is gonna happen. And it’s alright. Miguel and I are still friends.”

You and Moon look apprehensive at her words, worried for her as you know she’d just broken things off with Miguel to focus on herself and you didn’t want to be the one who got in her way of her self-reflection journey. But before you can say more, a shadow falls next to your side and you’re glancing up to meet Eli who’s smiling brightly down at you.

“Hey,” he grins down at you, moving to take the empty seat next to you. Everything around you falls to the back of your mind as you unconsciously smile up at him, leaning forward to meet his lips before pulling back;

“Hey,” you return, breathless. “I’m glad you came.”

Eli nods. “Me too,” settling back in his seat, his eyes glance downwards.

You feel yourself tense, chest tightening but before you can move to cover yourself, Eli is taking your hand in his.

“You look great,” he compliments, the words sincere.

And just like that, all your worries wash away. You knew it wa stupid, but it was hard to fight the self-esteem issues that had been taunted at you for years of your life. The things Yasmine and some of the other bullies had said stuck with you and even though you were surrounded by friends and those who cared for you, it was hard not to hear those biting words in the back of your head.

Despite knowing Eli a long time, you’d never been dressed in something so… revealing before. And sure, he was your boyfriend now and you guessed that sort of step just came with the relationship. It didn’t mean you had been any less nervous.

But the warm smile on his lips and the sincerity of his words are reassuring and they leave your heart fluttering in a completely different way than it had before.

Feeling hot and embarrassed, you glance at your lap; “shut up.”

“What?” he laughs, squeezing your hand. “It’s true.”

You meet Eli halfway as he makes his way back from whatever that confrontation with Cobra Kai had been. The sight of Robby making his way over to Tory has you frowning, trying to piece together whatever you could before finally coming to a stop in front of Eli.

“What was that about?” You ask, shifting your focus to Eli as he sets his hands on your arms.

“Nothing,” he dismisses, shaking his head as he tries to lead the both of you back to your friends. You just root yourself in the spot, not letting him pull away.

“Eli,” you huff, “what was it about?”

Sighing, Eli pulls you aside, moving to explain. “They were just being pricks to Sam’s brother, okay? But it’s fine. We sorted it out.” Then, smiling faintly, he brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Nothing to worry about, okay?”

You glance over his shoulder once more, meeting Tory’s eyes along the way, frowning at the glare she sends you. Turning back to Eli, you hesitate, but at the look he sends you, you just sigh, nodding. “Okay.”

Eager to distract you, Eli grins. “Wanna go on some rides?”

Unable to fight the smile that curls on your lips, you shrug; “sure. Let’s go.”

It was not nothing to worry about.

Just twenty minutes after you and Eli settle back down on the beach chairs, both him and Miguel are getting up when a fight between Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do-and-Eagle-Fang adjacent breaks out. You try to call after Eli and get him to stop, but he barely listens to you, and before you know it the both of them are off. A look Moon and Sam’s way tells you, you all know how this is gonna end – bad, as usual.

Choosing to stay back, knowing that this stuff never ends well, you try to ignore it and relax but your eyes keep flickering over. You may not want to participate in this drama between the dojo’s, but all of your friends were involved and your concern especially laid with Eli; you knew it was hard for him to ignore all of it because of his past with Cobra Kai and everything that had happened and that inevitably caused you to worry.

Eventually, Eli and Tory end up racing down the waterslides to see who’s better but the non-confrontational altercation is quickly ruined when Eli proclaims Cobra Kai cheated. Which then escalates, naturally, and eventually leads to all of you being kicked out of the water park.

Which left you to now, walking home with Eli.

Sam had left early, annoyed and when Miguel realized she wasn’t there, he left too, going to talk to Robby. Too tired to deal with that, which was bound to go poorly, you continued on with Eli, Moon and Yasmine until the two girls left too.

Leaving just you and Eli.

Hand in hand, Eli’s eyes keep shifting over to you beside him, worried eyes registering the frown on your lips and sensing the disappointment flooding off of you. A part of him feels guilty, knowing that he’d been a piece of the reason why you’d all been kicked out of the water park in the first place. But… but he hopes you understand why it all started in the first place.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Eli whispers a moment later in awkward silence, unable to handle it. Your eyes snap to him at his words, wide eyes falling on him as he runs a hand through his hair. “I know you were excited to hang… I didn’t mean to get us kicked out.”

Lips parting, you’re quick to shake your head. “Eli, I’m not mad.”

“Are you sure?” he doubts, raising a brow. “You… look mad.”

“No,” you sigh, shoulders falling. “I’m not mad. Not at you. Just disappointed… I wish we could get past our differences and get along with Cobra Kai.”

Eli, unable to help himself, scoffs. “Yeah, as if.”

You send him a sharp glance and Eli pauses, swallowing thickly.

“Y-Y/N…” He calls out nervously. “I mean… you must understand, right? That won’t happen.”

“Why not?” You huff, shrugging your shoulders as you instinctively pull your hand from his grasp. “If we could just see past our differences, then—”

“There’s no ‘seeing past our differences’,” Eli cuts off; perhaps a bit sharper than he intended if the look in his eyes is anything to go by. He hesitates, holding himself back for a moment, clearly trying to think of what to say. He decides with; “I mean, they’re the enemy. Robby, Tory, all of them.”

“They’re kids, like us,” you remind, shaking your head. “They’re just like us. And-And Robby isn’t an enemy, he’s not even in Cobra Kai anymore! Neither is Tory or Kenny! Or the rest of them! They’re being brainwashed!” You don’t even realize the way your voice is raising, spiking in your distress as the both of you stand there in the middle of the parking lot.

Eli just shakes his head. “They go too far,” he argues, “and we will never be able to see past our differences.”

Looking back, you wouldn’t have said the words that you do and really, you regret them the second you say them. But the some far part of you, deep in your mind that realizes that isn’t able to see that clarity in that moment and the words just come pouring from your lips.

“What, like you weren’t one of them in the past?”

Something shifts in Eli’s eyes; “so this is about me?”

“What?” You call, baffled. “No! I just meant…”

Really, you don’t know what you meant.

“I knew you still haven't forgiven me for all of that,” Eli scoffs. “It’s clear that you still see me that way.”

“No!” You cry out, unaware of the eyes watching the both of you. “I don’t!”

Eli just steps back from you; “you said it was all in the past.”

“It is! I just meant that you realized your mistakes so who’s to say that they can’t either?”

You know you’re right. Eli probably knows too. But the jab still hovers in the air and stings and it doesn’t allow Eli to see past his own fog of anger to realize the truth of your words. Instead, he just shakes his head down at you, scoffing.

“You don’t get it,” he huffs.

Your eyes widen, stepping towards him. “I’m trying to.” And you reach for him, try to grab his hand and pull him back and apologize even if you knew you were right – you just don’t want to fight anymore. You hate fighting, especially with Eli.

But it doesn’t matter. Eli pulls away before you can and with one more narrowed glance, he simply turns, walking off and leaves you there without another glance back.

And you stand there, watching him for a moment, eyes welling with tears as you try to recount how that conversation went so wrong, so quickly. You knew that what you’d said about when Eli was in Cobra Kai was wrong, but you didn’t understand how Eli couldn’t see that he and Miguel and all of them were acting irrational about Cobra Kai now. Sure, some of them have done shitty things – like Tory or Kenny, but it was all because of John Kreese and now, now it was because of Terry Silver.

Biting your lip, you hug yourself, feeling vulnerable in an entirely new way. Things had been going so well for you and Eli – or at least, it had seemed that way. You thought that both of you would be able to see past what had happened and start new, but clearly neither of you were able to forget everything completely. Eli and his whole ‘Hawk’ thing wasn’t gone from your mind, even if you wished it was and though you obviously were no longer mad at him, it wasn’t that easy just to forget it all. And clearly, it was still very much on Eli’s mind as well.

“You okay?”

Jumping at the new voice, you’re quick to wipe at your eyes, desperate not to be seen having been crying, turning in the direction only to pause when you realize it’s Robby.

Staring at him for a moment, you huff; “i’m fine.”

“You don’t look like you’re fine.”

You just scoff, hugging yourself tighter. “Surprised you’re even talking to me,” you choose to deflect the topic of conversation. If anything, just to give yourself a piece of mind. “Aren’t I the ‘enemy’?”

Robby just snorts; “not part of Cobra Kai, remember?” His voice is light, teasing, obviously in an attempt to cheer you up as he comes to a stand next to you. It doesn’t work. “Besides, you’re definitely not my enemy.”

That makes you feel better, though, just a little.

Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you shrug; “should tell your girlfriend that.” You know you’re being a tad cruel, but you feel like you’re justified in it. Just a little. Robby has been kind of M.I.A. recently and ignoring you, even if it wasn’t intentional. You figure this is a chance to get a little bit of payback. “She glares at me any time she sees me. It’s worse when she sees us talking… not that you and I have a lot recently.”

Robby winces at that, “sorry about that.” And at your raised brow, he adds; “the whole being distant thing and Tory. Besides, I’m not even sure we’re really… dating anymore.” Sighing, Robby’s shoulders fall in defeat. “I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

Looking in the direction Eli had gone, you let out a laugh; “I'd say.”

Robby frowns at you, a look of concern clear in his eyes. You know he’s going to say something – it’s clear he saw you and Eli fighting, and if not, he definitely saw you crying. But you don’t want to talk about it. Not now.

So, instead, you opt for; “walk me home?”

The concern doesn’t fade but a genuine smile curls on Robby’s lips; “sure.”

#cobra kai #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk #hawk x reader #cobra kai hawk #jacob bertrand #cobra kai imagine #eli moskowitz imagine

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batterygarden · 1 month

Text

With a deep breath you hit the triangle button on your boom box, letting familiar, mellow guitar chords blare into the otherwise quiet summer night. For the occasion, you’ve chosen to play the hit single Island in the Sun by none other than american alternative rock band, Weezer—a song you know Megumi to be quite fond of. The beginning of the song might be a tad quiet to garner the man’s attention though—possibly asleep in his second-story apartment at this hour. So you pair Weezer’s third little hip-hip with a small pebble against his window (you’re at least 85% sure it’s his window) and call out his name a few times.

A couple pebbles later and his bedroom light turns on. Weezer’s first chorus welcome’s Megumi’s face into view, his unruly hair fluffed unevenly to one side like he’d been laying down.

He looks mad, cheeks red and everything when he glares at you down below, but, no biggie— that’s why you’re here in the first place! As a grand gesture to get back in his good graces.

You smile and hoist the boom box onto your shoulder, tossing another pebble at the glass.

This earns you an exasperated frown—megs manages to radiate annoyance when he slowly slides his window open a moment later.

“You didn’t have to throw that last one, you already had my attention.”

“Alright but—“ you scramble to turn down the music so he can hear you better, setting the boom box back on the sidewalk, “—I wasn’t sure if you’d actually open up!”

“Well I did.”

don’t make me regret it, his tone says.

“I appreciate it.” You grin at him like an idiot for a minute, fully distracted by his little pout.

Megumi’s so cute.

“So.. is there a reason you woke my whole apartment complex at 11 pm on a Sunday?”

You shake your head to clear it “yes! Yes megumi I want to apologize!”

At this he gives an exhausted nod, rubbing under his eyes while he gestures for you to go on.

“Megumi, baby, I’m sorry I forgot our anniversary! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! I love you and I’ll never do it again, I promise—please let me make it up to you!”

There’s a deep sigh. “I didn’t even say I was mad.”

“But I could tell you were hurt! And that makes sense, like, you got me flowers and that bag I wanted and a really sweet card—I feel awful!”

Your voice is only growing in volume and by the end of your speech he’s red-cheeked again, poking his head out the window to try and check on his neighbors’ windows around him.

“Okay—“

You cut him off to turn up Island in the Sun again, conveniently just as Rivers Cuomo starts getting romantic, letting the “we’ll run away together” verse assert the depth of your affection for megumi in a way you could never do with your own voice.

You sing along to drive your point home though, choosing now to hold up the plastic-wrapped flowers you purchased at the convenience store on the way here.

Megumi interrupts your serenading much sooner than expected with an “Alright, I forgive you! Turn that down, you can come in!”

You beam. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Enough with the song, you can turn it off.”

…

When megumi opens the door he finds you smiling behind it with teeth, holding out the bouquet you got him while little hearts seem to shimmer in your eyes.

He murmurs a thanks when he grabs the flowers, only eyeing the burgundy roses briefly before he’s stepping back and gesturing you to enter.

It’s truly a relief to be back in his house after a day of worrying he’d never want you back— you sigh as your shoes are kicked off, making your way into his living room before turning and yanking a surprised Megumi into a tight embrace.

He sets the flowers carefully on the couch before returning it, burying his face in your hair the way he always does.

It’s hard to muster the willpower to break apart once he’s holding you, but once you do you finally get to take in his appearance.

Yikes, he so was sleeping before you showed up—he’s got on his silly, toothpaste-stained sasuke tee yuji got him for Christmas and only a pair of plaid boxers, plus his bed head’s somehow even more pronounced up close. Your remorse for waking him is short-lived, quickly replaced with pure, undiluted affection.

This is the love of my life, you think fondly, watching him try to scratch away the dried toothpaste after following your stare.

You run fingertips down his arms to intertwine with his when you speak, “so, uh, did you like my music choice this evening?”

He groans and gives an awfully sassy eye roll.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to hear weezer the same.”

#megumi x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk drabble #megumi drabble #megumi headcanons #megumi fic #this is a repost secretly but its a teense edited #🐞 writes

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deaddovedecadence · 10 months

Text

Title: The Beginning (sunshine verse)

Warning(s): threats of violence, manipulation, possessive and obsessive behavior

Summery: Jason has finally been brought home, only to meet his newest sibling. They have a talk

Jason wakes up in a familiar room. It's a perfectly tidy room, no specks of dust anywhere, a perfectly ordinary room, but it feels dangerous anyways. He isn’t cuffed down but it feels dangerous anyways. He takes a look around the room, noting the unbarred windows (probably electrified) and a door he knows leads to the bathroom. The room to leave the room is perpendicular to his bed so he shifts, moving so that he can see who comes in and face all threats directly. For a long while there is absolutely no movement, and eventually his body relaxes itself, even with his mind screaming danger.

He’s been here before, escaped from here before, been (loved) hated here before, and he is foolish enough to think that escape will be an option for a long while. Security will be up for sure as well as it’s six incredibly well trained people (Dick, Cass, Tim, Damian, Bruce, Alfie) against him, and he’s been out of the game for a while. For a moment, he’s reminded of Dick, who’s rebellion is still the stuff of legends in the crime community, and the cops that try ever hard to catch them.He wonders what this will be considered, a rebellion or a temper tantrum. He was there when Bruce and Dick finally fought it out. Both of them still carry the scars. Will it be like that for him, or will they trap him in a golden cage?

There’s a knock on the door, and he’s more surprised than anything else. The knock, while polite, is unfamiliar, not matching the cadence of any of the others. Dick’s knock, twice in a row before a pause, is bright and cheerful, Cass climbs through the window, Tim’s, thrice, rapid and soft, Damain’s, continuous, loud and quick, Bruce’s, four times, slow and thudding, and Alfie’s once, a gentle warning. This knock is thrice, rapid and not too loud. The knock comes again, unchanging. He has no choice and he knows that, but at least his damnation can be on his terms. “Come in,” he snaps, and the door opens. He’s unsurprised when the figure is unfamiliar. The figure is on the taller side, with dark brown skin and a warm smile. “Hey Jason,” the figure says, “I’m Duke, I use they/them pronouns.” Duke’s accent is all gotham, thick and weaving into his words, like taffy getting caught on its stretcher.

“Why’d they send you? Testin’ the new meat on me?” Duke’s smile stays warm even though their dark brown eyes flare a bright vivid yellow, and the light levels in the room drop for a second. Jason can’t help but startling because he’s facing a fucking meta. “I’m his newest adoptie, and if you must know, I’ve already completed testing and my time as new meat.” The implications of that remain unspoken. Bruce went and adopted a fucking meta while Jason was gone, huh? That’s a thing he doesn't have words for.

“May I sit on the bed with you?” Duke says politely, gesturing to the bed. What the fuck is going on here? There is no one in this family that asks for anything so why is the newbie doing it? Jason ends up just shrugging which Duke takes as a yes because suddenly there’s another person on the bed, arranging into a sort of criss-cross that reminds Jason of Dick.

“Why are you here?” he demands, sharp. Duke shrugs, “family thought you’d do better with someone that hasn’t met you ‘stead of someone you know ‘cause I’m more like to be neutral and calmer with you.” It’s not a bad way of thinking about it and the kid ain’t even wrong. If Bruce or Dick or anyone else was in here it’d probably be a screaming match already. Duke arranges more on the bed, and fixes Jason with a look that reminds him exactly of Alfred. “There are three things that I’m here to go over with you but I figured you might wanna know we got your friend in the next room over.” he pales, thinking of everything his family would do to his friend, the person that dragged him away from crime and gave him a way to bring them down. Because of his carelessness, his friend is in the next room over, the perfect leverage to keep him complaint, to keep him here, all because he was stupid.

“This can go two ways,” Duke says calmly, “I give Dames the go ahead to do what he wants with your little friend or you and I make a deal.” It’s a good offer, especially considering how his family is, actually it’s almost too good. He narrows his eyes at Duke, who sits serenely on the bed. “Okay, cut the bullshit. Why are you offering me anything?” he snaps, and Duke smiles. “It’s pretty simple actually. You are a member of my family, and that means that I want to help you. Plus helping you and your friend benefits me in the long run.” Simply put, but still, it feels like there’s something that Duke isn’t saying. “What’s going to happen to them?” he says, referring to his friend. Duke pulls out a phone instead of answering, scrolling through something before looking up at him. “They woke up asking for you. I gave you your options. Do with them as you will.”

Jason doesn’t like this. “If I made a deal with you,” he says carefully, “they stay safe.” Duke nods. He steadies himself, and says the damning words. “I want to make a deal,”

And Duke smiles.

The second that Duke leaves Jason’s room, Dick is all over them. “How is he?” Dick asks, bouncing absently on the balls of his feet. Duke gestures to the door, signing ‘Jason hear us. Kitchen now.’ Dick nods and follows after them, humming something to himself, and chewing on his nails. Duke doesn’t sit down when they get to the kitchen, bustling around and prepping something, probably tea, for themelf.

Out of all of them, it’s Duke who’s taken to Alfred’s lessons the best, learning everything from new ways to cook to the best ways to hide poison in a drink. Like most of his siblings, being subtle does not come naturally to Duke and Alfie has taught them the more subtle nuances of things, ranging from soup spoons and good manners to the proper spoon and/or fork for taking out someone’s eye.

At Duke’s raised eyebrow, Dick sits, leg bouncing under the table. Duke sits down after their tea finishes, holding a steaming mug. “What did he say?” Dick demands. Duke takes a sip of tea and begins, “first of all, you owe me. I was right about Jason reacting better to me than you.” Dick settles a little bit, laughs, “okay, okay petit, we’ll head to the beach this weekend. Tell me about our brother.”

Duke frowns, “He agreed to make a deal with me to keep his friend safe.” There’s a but there and he knows it. “What’s wrong?” Duke shrugs, “He’s planning an escape already, I can see it in his eyes.” For all of Jason’s abilities, his eyes have always been very obvious.

“What are you planning to do?” “I already laid the groundwork.”

“What do you want for their safety?” Jason demands, all cornered prey animal, obvious in the slant of his teeth, in the way that he tenses. In contrast Duke is the predator, aware that it’s prey is cornered. “Let’s play a game. I’m going to flip a coin, you’re going to call it midair, and for every one you get right, you get to ask me a question. If you get it wrong I get to ask you a question.” Jason takes it in, trying to see if there’s a way that he can get out of it before he nods.

Duke flips the coin after showing him both sides. They flip it in midair, and Jason calls heads, “Tails.” Duke says evenly, not gloating or teasing like Damian or Tim would. “What’s your question?”

It’s a small, calm smile given to him and yet this is the first time that Duke has ever felt like a threat. “Where did you spend your time?” It’s an oddly easy question to answer, not prodding or pushing like someone else would. He shrugs, “I went pretty much everywhere that Bruce doesn’t have business in. I wanted to see the world on my own terms,” without Bruce’s influence, he doesn't say. Duke nods, and gives him a little smile. “Okay, let's go again.”

Again he’s shown both sides of the coin before Duke flips it, and he calls, “Heads,” midair. It comes back down and when Duke shows it to him, it releases as tails. “Fuck,” Jason snaps, and Duke’s serene smile does not waver. “Why the police?” Duke asks. Another easy one, “I wanted to make sure that even if I went missing, they’d know, they’d do something.” Duke snorts, and then looks almost soberly at him. “Your entire police force answered to Nightwing.” He can’’t help the horror that courses through his body at the idea that he was never safe, that he never had a chance to get free.

“Why are you telling me this?” He snarls, and Duke, doing something that seems to have become a trend, smiles serenely. “Because you deserve to know, and the others didn't want me telling you.”

“Did he really believe that?” Dick snorts. Duke nods. “I’m almost disappointed in him. He seems to have forgotten all of his training.” See Duke excels in several things but most of all they fuck with the truth in a way that almost no one else in the family does. Even Cass sometimes has problems understanding if they’re telling the truth because Duke bends it just enough that his body language reflects the idea of truth when that isn’t the full story.

“Last time, “Duke says cheerfully, showing him both sides of the coin once again. “Pick your poison.” It’s thrown up into midair and Jason pays careful attention the to amount of flips and calls, “tails,” right as it’s coming down. Duke gives him a steady grins and opens his palm to revel, “heads.” It takes everything in Jason not to start swearing.

He feels watched, like his skin’s been pulled back for Duke to see all the scars as the meta considers his final question. “Why are you so afraid of being considered bad?” Not fucking easy. “You tense up when I mentioned our siblings, and from what I know you left bruce because of your morals.” He stops, and tries to put into words something that Duke will never be able to understand.

“Have you ever been so happy that you’d do anything to continue that happiness?” Duke nods, “I have, yes.” Jason snorts, “well that was my life before I realized that my happiness comes from the suffering of other people, that I’m only good in bruce’s eyes and to everyone else I’m a monster. I didn’t want to be a monster so I left.”

To his surprise, Duke does not make a noise or call his reasons stupid like Tim or Damian would. They just nod, and say quietly, “Thank you for sharing. Your friend will be safe until you attempt to escape.”

As Duke leaves, Jason realizes that Duke says until, and not if.

“Our brother is fucking stupid,” Dick says, “he fucking left because he thought that he was bad, just ugh. I want to stab him for that.” Duke, calm as always, reminds him, “Jase was older when Bruce took him in. Don’t you remember how much trouble you had with me?” It’s enough that Dick stops holding his knife like he’s going to go upstairs and hurt something (or someone). “You were trouble but at least you were logical about your protesting. Jason is just being stupid.”

That gets a soft laugh from his younger sibling. “Well perhaps changing our guest will help Jason change too.”

A feral smile, “you might just be right about that petit.”

#yandere writing prompts #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #jason todd #dick grayson #duke thomas #yandere batman #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #my voices and hands; are all i have (original work)#batboy tag #the sunshine verse

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lovinglokilaufeyson · 5 months

Text

The Devil You Know - A.A.

Pairings: Spawn!Astarion x Fem!Reader (Mephistopheles Tiefling! Raphael’s Daughter)

Warnings: Abandonment by parent, implied loss of parent, BG3 Spoilers (set sometime in Act 2), Angst, Conflict/Yelling/Disagreement between Tav & Astarion, Past Trauma, Not Proofread

Wordcount: 1,364

Summary: You are Raphael’s daughter, who he disowned for her good nature. You are abducted from Baldur’s Gate and receive a tadpole in your head. You have bonded with Astarion, but you are not about to let him ask your father for help.

A/N: Requested by anon! I loved loved loved this prompt so so so much God! Thank you for requesting this, I loved writing it! Also, I did some research as to what race Tav would end up being. From what I understand, if Raphael (Cambion) had a child with a human, it would be either a Tiefling or a Cambion?? (Still really muddy for me) Therefore, Tav/Reader is a Tiefling for the sake of this story, and to make the fact that she is “good” more realistic. There will definitely be a part two of this (with substantial fluff, maybe even smut).

It had been years since you had spoken to your father. He was on the verge of abandoning you when your mother gave birth to you, a Tiefling. Raphael would have preferred you to be a Cambion, as he was. You still had similar appearance like he flourished, but you showed an innocence that juxtaposed his own behaviors. He tolerated your presence for a while, but the time came when he was unable to process you frolicking through fields of flowers, basking in the sunshine, the pure happiness that radiated from you. He tried to destroy everything you loved: the flowers, the light. And yet, you were still happy.

He hated it.

He dropped you off at the orphanage at once, you were maturing, but not fast enough for him. That, and he practically despised you. Perhaps, for what Raphael himself lacked. However, who ever claimed that devils were self-aware was definitely a devil themselves.

You spent much of your childhood wondering what you did to deserve to be dropped off at the orphanage that day. The truth was you didn’t. You didn’t deserve to be abandoned by your father. You were just too dissimilar, and that was something Raphael couldn’t handle. You spent a bit of your upbringing attempting to enhance your magical skills, your father had rescinded the vast majority of your abilities upon plopping you at the door of the orphanage with no explanation. However, you were able to regain a lot through your studies in Candlekeep. You were a bookworm, and you loved learning, not only that but you had an innate proficiency with arcana. You became well-versed in magic, but you didn’t know that your adventures had yet to begin.

You had a tadpole placed in your head, and suddenly you felt a kind of freedom you hadn’t felt previously. Then, you were able to escape, with the help of your Githyanki “friend” (you had grown closer over time, she could tolerate you now) Lae’zel. You recruited Shadowheart, Astarion, and Gale along the way. Later on, you met Wyll and Karlach. Karlach was most similar to yourself, being a Zariel Tiefling. Her skin was darker than yours, warmer, but if a stranger met you two they would have thought you sisters.

One person that you didn’t think you would bond with was Astarion. Astarion had his walls up very high from the very beginning, but something within you tore them down. Maybe it was your giddiness, or your general inexperience, but he felt the need to protect you, in a sense. Sure, you had fucked up in battle more times than they all could count, but you tried your hardest, anytime you misfired a spell you would study it over and over again with Gale until you could do it right 100% of the time.

You were perplexed on how you bonded more with Astarion than Gale, but the further you dug with Astarion the more you wanted to know. You had slept together a few times; little did you know that Astarion mostly pursued you for his own gain. He figured that if he got on the good side of the fearless, well-liked leader, she and the rest of the party wouldn’t turn on him. What Astarion didn’t realize was that he didn’t have to sleep with you to get on your good side. He just simply had to be him. You enjoyed his sass, his quips, the bantering that he tried to pursue with you. It never lasted long, which invigorated him, you were simply too easy going. A lover, rather than a fighter.

You were like a ray of sunshine. If he could, Astarion would douse himself in your rays every moment. Similarly to his newfound love for basking in the sun, you were intoxicating to him. Astarion hadn’t met many people who glowed as you did. Ironically, your contrasted, dark correspondent, your father, Raphael, had been following you and your crew around for the past few weeks. Of course, given the whole tadpole situation, the group reeked of desperation. And devils loved desperation. Desperation would lead to deals.

You were adamant that that would not be occurring.

It became evident, one night, that Astarion would be pushing you on that boundary. Astarion’s former master, Cazador, had written a piece of infernal text on his back. You didn’t think much of it until Astarion became fixated on it one night. You could tell him what it said, but that would mean releasing the information that you were indeed Raphael’s daughter to the rest of the party, which you would have preferred not to do.

This, in itself, was a big step for Astarion. Talking about his past, his troubles, all of it. He felt comfortable around you, perhaps partially because you had shared so little with him regarding your past. You analyzed the scars on his back, running your fingertips over them as you did. “So, darling?” He inquired, pondering if you had an answer for him.

“I can tell you its written in infernal” you spoke simply, only giving him a glimpse into the answer he truly wanted. You bent down on the ground, drawing it on the sand for him, “here.” “I’ve never seen it before” Astarion spoke, and you nodded. “Infernal, you say?” He questioned again, as if an idea was coming to mind. You gestured in approval yet again.

“Darling, thank you. I believe we need to seek out Raphael, that devil who has been creeping on us the past few weeks. I bet he could tell us the meaning of the scars Cazador left on me.”

“Astarion, you can’t possibly be serious. Raphael is a devil. Devils always require a deal, and there is always a catch. You can’t pay that price.” You argued. You had wanted to do something nice for Astarion, given the horrific situation, but you knew one thing for sure. You would not be approaching your father for anything, not even over your own dead body.

“Darling, please. I’m not stupid. I need to know what these marks on me say, and Raphael can do that for me. We can adjust the pricing, I’m sure. You’re just inexperienced.” He quipped, and you gasped at his remark.

“We are not talking to Raphael, and that is final, Astarion.” You were worked up now, Astarion could see it. Gods, even the owlbear across camp half asleep could see it.

“It’s not your decision to make, Tav. It’s mine. If I want to make a deal with the devil, so be it. You can stay out of it.” From across camp, you could hear both Wyll and Karlach trying to intervene and talk some sense into Astarion. He wouldn’t take it anymore. He was his own person, and he could make his own decisions outside of what Cazador – or anyone else – decided for him. You looked at Astarion with glistening eyes, on the verge of tears. He knew he had hurt you, as well as hurt his position with you. But part of him didn’t care anymore about that.

“You’re just too naïve” he spat, and with that, a Barbarian-like rage emanated from you, your typical glow radiated into a powerful force that was nearly too much for Astarion. Your eyes were glowing most prominently, your hands formed into tight fists, and your teeth gnawed against one another. “You want to know what the damned scars say, Astarion?! Do you!?” Astarion, for the first time in weeks, was mildly scared for his life.

He nodded ever so gently, careful not to push you further. “It’s a contract. One between Cazador and Mephistopheles. The rite of profane ascension to a fate similar to godhood, but for vampires. He needs seven thousand souls, and you’re one of them.” Astarion had to bite back a chuckle. You had to be kidding him, right? This was a joke. Right?

“I’m dead fucking serious Astarion.” Your eyebrows were shifted downward, reciprocating your tone of voice.

“How would you know?” He quipped, anxious to break the pattern of seriousness and – perhaps lies that you were spreading. He didn’t want it to be true.

“I’m Raphael’s daughter."

Part Two is now out! Read it here.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion fluff #astarion vampire #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fandom #astarion fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #tav x astarion #astarion x you #astarion romance #astarion angst #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael

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moamidzyism · 8 months

Text

dance captains (c.yj)

☆。.:*·ﾟwc 2168 smut ౨ৎ minors DNI ˚⁺。˚ // repost ୨୧ yeonjun x fem!reader, rivals to rivals with benefits, oral [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]

if there was one thing you were certain about, it was how much dancing meant to you. you loved coming up with new choreographies and seeing how you could bend your body in new ways. you loved the way you felt on stage, and the feeling afterwards, adrenaline pulsing through your veins, was even better. and you especially loved your dance team, and how eager every single one of them was to put on a good performance, and how willing they were to stay at practice later than they needed to make sure that everything fell into place.

however, sometimes, it was easy to forget all the things you loved so much about dance when you remembered that you had to work with choi yeonjun.

in your eyes, he was lazy. he was rude. he was so deeply unprofessional. he never showed up to practice on time. and when he bothered to grace the team with his presence, he always half assed it. and you’re pretty sure the only reason he was even captain was because his last name was on the building that you practiced at.

and today, like any other, he sauntered into the practice room forty five minutes late, holding a watered down iced americano in his hand.

“look who finally decided to come into practice.” you announced as he walked to the couch in the back of the practice room. he turned to glare at you. the tension between you two was palpable and you could feel the uncomfortable stares of the other dancers who had to deal with this tension every single practice.

“guys, why don’t we take five?” you tell the rest of the team. “not you,” you say to yeonjun, who was planning his escape from the room with the other dancers who quickly fled as soon as you made your announcement.

“what is it now?” he turned to face you with a tight lipped smile.

“you’re late,” you responded bluntly. “again.”

“whatever,” he dismissed you, placing his bag on the floor.

“don’t “whatever” me, yeonjun.” you begin, standing with your hands on your hips. “you made a huge deal about wanting to be captain but you can’t even be bothered to come into practice.”

“i’m here, aren’t i?”

“yeah, almost an hour late.”

“not that it’s any of your business, but i was busy.”

“doing what?”

“like i said, it’s none of your business.”

“god, are you always this infuriating?”

“are you always this uptight?”

“fuck you.” you counter as the dancers file back into the room.

right now yeonjun was the least of your problems. your university was hosting a festival at the end of the month that you were supposed to be performing at and your team was still very much behind. you didn’t waste any time to get back to practice after your teammates filled the room. standing at the front, you instructed them to pick up from where you left off.

as the music started, the studio came alive with movement and the dancers took their places as you and yeonjun monitored them making sure that their formation was correct and they moved in sync. throughout the practice, the dancers pushed themselves, and you could see their progression and improvement with each repetition of the choreography.

“thank you guys so much.” you acknowledge after practice ends. “you guys worked really hard today. i know we’ve been pushing you but we’re almost at the finish line. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

the others make their way out of the room and you make your way to yeonjun. “we need to work on the choreography for the second verse and the last chorus.”

“yeah, about that…” his voice trailed off.

“what about it?”

“i think we should scrap it.” he admits.

you scoff in response. “you’re not serious.”

“i thought about it.”

“that must have been a lot of work for you.” you roll your eyes, rummaging through your bag in search of your water bottle.

he clears his throat to get your attention. “i thought about it and i think the song is boring.”

“oh no,” you feign upset. “yeonjun thinks the song is boring so we have to change the choreography that the entire team has been working on for the past two weeks.”

“well i’m captain so i think i have a say in what choreography we do.”

“well we’re co-captains, so no, not quite.”

“i have an idea that i’ve been working on.” he pulls his phone from his back pocket and shows you a video of him dancing. the music began to play and it became evident that dancing was not just a skill for him. his body flowed so effortlessly. his movements were mesmerizing, blending his strength and his delicacy. he moved in perfect harmony with the rhythm.

“this is what you’ve been doing while you’ve been skipping practice?” you asked when the video ended.

“it’s good, right?”

“it’s okay.” you lied.

“why is it so hard for you to compliment me?” he looks up at you, and you realize just how close you are. you take a step back and clear your throat.

“it doesn’t matter if it’s good because we’re doing the original choreography that everyone has been working on already.”

he scoffs and connects his phone to the speakers in the room. he sits on the floor and begins his stretches. you join him on the floor. “i hate you so much, you know?” you tell him.

“well that’s good because i hate you more.”

“it’s not a competition.”

“but if it was, i would hate you the most.” he sticks his tongue out at you.

“you’re so fucking immature.”

“you’re just mad that you have to work with me.”

“yeah because i had so many plans for this team and now i have to run them by a manchild who only got his position because of his parents.”

the smirk on his face falls off and is quickly replaced with a scowl. “just show me the second verse you’ve been working on.”

he plays the song and you run through the choreography from the beginning. in that moment, the world around you fades away. you don’t even notice him moving to sit on the couch as you move along to the choreography, your body guided by the years of practice and dedication that you’ve poured into your craft. for some people it comes naturally. but for you, dance is a language that you’ve had to learn. you complete the choreography, satisfied with yourself.

that satisfaction quickly vanishes when you see yeonjun staring at you blankly. “what’s wrong with it?”

“nothing.” he answers with speed.

“then why are you looking at me like that?”

“it’s just…” he pauses to think.

“can you just spit it out?”

“you’re a really good dancer.”

you laugh. “yeah, that’s kinda how i became captain of this team.”

“why thank you yeonjun. that was really kind of you.” he mocks you.

“i’m just saying, i know.”

“yeah, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you dance like this before.”

“well if you came to practice you would see me dance.” you move to sit beside him on the couch.

“okay, fair enough.” he scoots away from you, his posture tenses up. you look him up and down, your eyes stopping at the bulge in his pants that he was trying his best (and failing) to hide. you burst out in laughter.

“oh my god! are you hard right now?” you say between laughs, clutching your stomach.

“no i’m not.” he defends himself, turning his face away from you in embarrassment.

“oh c’mon junie, look at me.” you tilt his face towards you.

“fuck you.” he pulls away from your touch.

“oh i know you want to.”

“please, go to hell.”

“why? wouldn’t you rather me stay here and help you.” his head snaps back in your direction. you try to stifle your laugh.

“you’re fucking with me.”

“so, you don’t want me to help you?”

“no,” he says a little too eagerly. “i mean, i do want you to help me.” he swallows. you cross over to sit on his lap, straddling him. his breath hitches when you lock eyes, yours conveying fascination, waiting to see who dared to make the first move. it was a battle of wills, a sort of unspoken challenge to see who would be the first to surrender to the intoxicating pull between the two of you.

“i hate you,” he finally breaks the silence. his arms tightly snake around your waist, pulling you in closer to him. “so fucking much.”

you press your lips against his. “i hate you too,” you tell him and you mean it. your lips meet in a fiery, intense kiss. as if a pipe had burst and all the years of pent-up frustration had been released. he pulls you deeper into the kiss and you respond with your fingers playing in his hair.

as your lips parted, you locked eyes again in a mix of passion and anger. your gaze was torn between the intensity of the moment and the bitterness that you let fester since the day you met him. his grip on your waist still firm, you looked at him with a mixture of frustration and yearning. “i knew you always wanted me.” a smirk plastered on his face.

“shut up.” you pulled him back into a kiss, your hands sliding from his face down his torso, your fingers tracing over the curves and planes of his body, until they found refuge on the waistband of his shorts. “tell me how much you need me.” you whisper against his lips.

“don’t play with me.” he groans.

“need you to tell me, junie.” you pepper kisses on his neck. “not gonna do anything until you do.”

“god, i need you,” he surrenders to you just like you wanted. “need you so bad.” he melts under your touch and you smile as you make your way down to your knees, slowly releasing his dick from his shorts.

“s’all i wanted to hear.” you wrap your lips around him, starting at the tip and steadily working your way down, letting your tongue wander over every part of him. he throws his head back and your name escapes his lips like a mantra.

he flips between wanting to worship your mouth and reeling in the fact that he has you here, on your knees, sucking the life out of him. his hands travel down to grasp the back of your neck, his hips thrusting upwards as you bob up and down on his length. “who would have thought? your mouth good for something other than complaining?” he breathes out between moans.

his whines are pathetic as you pick up the pace. “fuck,” he cups your face, titling your head upwards so you’re looking him in the eye. “you look so pretty with my dick in your mouth, baby.”

if the near silent moans that escaped his lips as he hung his head back weren’t enough to off of, the stutter of his hips gave away the fact that he was so close to his release. you slow down, swirling your tongue around the tip before detaching with a lewd pop. “what are you doing?” he asks, his face betrayed with confusion.

“if you think you’re going to cum in my mouth just like that, you’re sorely mistaken.” you get up. “if you want to come, you’re gonna have to work for it.”

he lays you back on the couch, scattering kisses on your stomach as he pulls your leggings down to your knees. he bites down onto the flesh of your inner thigh before placing soft kisses on your clothed cunt. “this is what you wanted, right? me between your legs?”

“just shut up and eat me out.”

with that slides your underwear down and buries his face in your pussy, his head moving up and down as he moans against you, the vibrations send chills down your spine. like a dehydrated man in search of an oasis, yeonjun’s tongue laps your pussy eagerly, his sloppy ruts causing his nose to bump against your nose. “fuck, god, you taste so fucking good.”

you tighten your grip on his hair as you inch closer to your orgasm. you feel him smile against your core. “fuck jun…” head thrown back, you cum with a breathless moan, fingers holding onto him with dear life, as if someone was about to take him away from you.

his face was covered with your arousal when he came up for air. he drew closer to kiss you. “lemme fuck you.” he asks between kisses. “wanna make you feel so good, baby.”

“we have to work on the choreography.”

“but you promised that if i made you cum, you would let me finish.”

“i said you needed to work for it.” you lightly push him off of you. “still need to work for it.”

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moonsvillain · 6 months

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have been toying with the idea of an au wherein shen jiu, after burning down the qiu household and running away, comes across xie lian rather than wu yanzi poaching him immediately afterwards:

i'd imagine in this verse he runs away to town rather than immediately being found in the aftermath of what he's done. at this point, shen jiu would be too paranoid to consider reaching out for directions to cang qiong mountain even if he wanted to make it there: what if they knew what he did? or figured it out if he did know? (if he even had the mind to think of these things through his panic)

he doesn't want to end up begging on the streets again, though—too alike his childhood and last time he was in that position, shen jiu ended up with the qius in the first place

so he takes refuge in temples that he comes across, stealing food when he can before moving to a different part of the rather large town he's ended up in so there's no clear pattern of when he shows up at whichever food stall

despite not holding that same respect and unwavering belief in gods (how could he, after everything he's gone through? shouldn't they have stepped in, sometime? what god would let him suffer as he did, separating him from the only person he loved?) he knows better than to try them, and begrudgingly thanks them for the shelter (because this he did appreciate, at the very least, if nothing else)

winter hits hard when it does, and shen jiu, after spending so many years in the qiu household, forgot how the cold seeps into your skin and bones without solid walls to keep out the frigid breeze.

he quickly falls ill with nothing to protect him from the elements but his threadbare clothing, and when he grows ill, he becomes slow. shen jiu nearly gets caught stealing, running away before he can be dragged to a town guard for his offence, but earning himself a nasty wound to his leg as he retreated

sickness + the cold + the wound leave him weak and wanting: missing qi-ge, reminiscing on nights where they'd curl up together for warmth, still cold but not alone, the two of them steady against the storm that raged on ahead of them

fever-ridden and teetering close to death, shen jiu wanders into a temple late at night and sinks to his knees, falling to his side, heart-rate slowing. in his delirium, he misses the figure taking shelter from the storm in the corner, watching him

shen jiu wakes up (he doesn't expect to), warm while he hears the wind whistle. he's still in that temple from earlier, but it's considerably... cozier. a small fire warms the inside and his clothes aren't as damp against his cold skin. his fever's broken, too—he doesn't know how long it's been, but he's glad he didn't die: never realized that he wanted to live until he was close to forfeiting his right to

here is where he meets his accidental saviour: xie lian stood over a slowly bubbling pot of stew that smells heavenly to shen jiu—he'd eat just about anything at this point, starved

his immediate distrust of xie lian stops him from being truly excited about his appearance

their relationship is veryyy shaky at the very beginning: shen jiu refuses to trust him and xie lian refuses to abandon this strange child he found on the verge of death

(there's a strange sort of bond built up when you nurse someone back to life, dragging them away from the brink of death and xie lian isn't interested, but he's curious about this kid who stumbled into his temple at the dead of night on a midnight in winter)

shen jiu's torn between distrust and this desire for company he didn't know he possessed; after being alone with no one but the qiu household [before he went on his massacre] he didn't realized how much he wanted to share space with someone who wasn't actively hurting him until he was afforded the opportunity to experience non-violent company with xie lian

his distrust slowly declines when he finds out that xie lian is a cultivator. despite being arguably too old to learn cultivation to the fullest extent he could have if he started a few years earlier, he still desperately wants to learn

xie lian, perceptive as ever, slowly starts teaching him bits and pieces of the basics, teaches him to meditate, takes care to keep his distance when it looks like shen jiu's getting overwhelmed

shen jiu can't help but get attached. he hates it

shen jiu decides to test xie lian before resigning himself to this

he was snappy, impatient, and argued with xie lian, when he came over, one day, waiting for some form of punishment to come, bristling like a spooked cat.

nothing came of his experiment but a slight frown from xie lian, which made shen jiu feel almost bad—xie lian almost reminded him of qi-ge, which made him feel doubly bad because he desperately wants to find him

shen jiu came to xie lian the next day with a pastry [that he stole] as an apology. and a request:

"teach me how to cultivate so i can be a disciple at the cang qiong sect"

xie lian agrees easily enough: he's been around shen jiu to see that despite the late start, he has potential to be great [especially untouched by wu yanzi and his twisted form of cultivation]

shen jiu throws himself into his studies, working himself to the bone

xie lian is concerned by this and after trying to soften the load of his work doesn't make shen jiu slow down, he becomes stern: warns him against trying to chase too much frivolously

this leads to a breakdown of sorts—where shen jiu gets angry, dismissive, before becoming upset. the average emotional depth of a teenager but, like, 4 times worse because of the circumstances

xie lian coaxes the story out of shen jiu here; qi-ge [the first time he's mentioned aloud by name], the qiu household [only the barest of details. shen jiu refuses to dwell], and the night shen jiu made qi-ge leave, as well as qi-ge's promise to come back

shen jiu finishes by telling xie lian he needs to make it back to qi-ge, needs to see if he's still alive, he's been selfish for sticking around as long

shen jiu tells xie lian that he needs to figure out as much as he can, as fast as he can, so he can leave and make his way to cang qiong mountain with some sort of base knowledge to make it in. and that he's not sorry for pushing himself because he doesn't have time

xie lian is quiet for a while

puts a comforting hand on shen jiu's shoulder and tells him he understands; he knows someone who would do anything to make it back to the one they loved, understands the pain that comes when time and distance separates the two

however, xie lian tells him, he can't let shen jiu push himself. he'll only stunt his progress by hurting himself rather than speed things up

shen jiu is ready to argue again before xie lian offers to make the trip with him

shen jiu doesn't believe it at first—who would bother with helping him for this long if they weren't getting anything out of it? he already found this hard to believe, let alone the fact that xie lian would drop everything to travel with him for weeks on end

xie lian doesn't shake in his resolve, though. shen jiu figures out he's being serious and wants to argue, but he's just—relieved

so many people have stood as roadblocks on his path back to qi-ge; xie lian might be the first person actively trying to help them

it almost reignites hope in him; someone other than him believes in them. someone other than shen jiu thinks they'll make it back to each other and succeed in reuniting. xie lian's faith in him is like a gust of wind beneath his wings

he agrees to their road trip

[xie lian makes sure to tell his beloved he'll be away for a while]

[shen jiu doesn't notice that xie lian buys steamed buns off the same stranger in nearly every town they stop by for a night of rest in the following few weeks]

[xie lian notices, years later, when shen qingqiu doesn't recognize him upon their first meeting in decades. shen yuan doesn't know xie lian, but xie lian knows this isn't shen jiu, anymore]

#i've had this idea in my head for a few months now #only just finding the time to write everything out #i'll write this on ao3 eventually! trust me i will i promise just need to defeat exams first #hua cheng stalking xie lian w a forced smile on his face: who the hell is this fraud and why is he stealing my husbands attention #xie lian with a happy lil smile: theyre just like us san lang he's learning cultivation to find and protect his beloved isnt it so wonderfu #hua cheng letting go of the steamed bun smushed to pieces in his hand: ah yeah sounds great. sooo cute gege. come home soon. Please. ^_^#xie lian meeting shen jiu: what a lovely young man #shen jiu half feral and armed with the worst attitude known to man: who the hell is this fraud #svsss #tgcf #mxtx #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #xie lian #hua cheng #svsss au #svsss fanfiction #scum villain #scum villain self saving system #the scum villain's self saving system #heaven official's blessing

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