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#i mean i listen to everything under the sun but this feels so right to me for these kharacters idk why
matchbet-allofthetime · 2 months
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I need so badly to make an MK au where Lord Raiden was a teen in the sixties and Lord Fujin was a teen in the late sixties/early-mid seventies
And they just encompass their decades as people
And Liu Kang would be so reminiscent of the 80s glam rock and hair bands and all
And then you'd have Kung Lao, who, even though him and Liu are similar ages, he'd be like a solid mix of 80s/90s
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coca-cola-fiend · 8 months
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How I think the straw hats sleep when they have company (romantic or platonic)
Luffy
Wraps himself around you
You are NOT moving for a while
Snores, unless you prop him up right
Likes to cuddle, will whine if you say no (unless you look like super uncomfortable, emotionally aware king love that)
Mans has no thoughts of personal space. He wants to be close ALL THE TIMe
Will talk your ear off as he’s wrapped around you. Yes both arms and legs if it’s comfortable.
Tried to listen to you too, but will probs fall asleep. He doesn’t mean to be rude, bro is just tired and happy your with him.
Warm, but wiggles a lot.
After Marineford, he’s especially clingy. Has nightmares about it and only sleeps well if he knows his crew is safe and close by.
Please comfort him and tell him that the crew is safe, that he is safe.
Will drag you off for a nap if he’s tired. Or just falls asleep on top of you.
Will wake you up in the middle of the night to spout off random shit. Then fall back asleep. Or he’s going to try and grab a snack. Sanji is not pleased when the fridge is dented from this attempt.
Please make a deal with him to shower more. Your nose will think you.
Zoro
Dude also needs a shower
Likes to work out and then have a nap
Doesn’t like to admit it but prefers when your around for both of these activities
Enjoys flexing while training and then relaxing with a nap with one of his favorite people on the ship
If he stinks, MAKE HIM BATHE. Bro is STINKY and needs to scrub more. After he washes then it’s nap time. That’s the deal.
Nami thanks you for this
It started with just napping around you, then slowly leaning onto you.
Neither of you make a big deal out of it, more for his sake then yours. He’s embarrassed to admit he’s soft for your time together.
Not a huge talker, but is very good a listening.
Gives advice if he thinks you want it, but will sit and listen if you need to get stuff off your chest.
Is a little jealous you can do so with ease (in his mind). He’s too caught up being strong for the crew that he forgets that he’s allowed to just be Zoro, not Pirate Hunter or King of Hell Zoro.
Snores a little, but not super loud. Place his head on your shoulder or lap and he’s OUT. May even curl an arm or leg around you if he feels like it.
Nami
Not used to co-sleeping
Sleeps with a weapon close by due to her past with Arlong. This doesn’t change, only the location of the weapon does.
Particular about her sleep. Has a routine and everything.
Expects you to hold yourself to a certain standard if your sleeping in the same room as her (you’ll have to work up to cuddling).
Will gift you nice pjs, soaps, blankets, things like that.
Gets hot easily, but hates being too cold.
Will fall asleep at her nap desk. Please pick her up and tuck her into bed.
That’s how it starts probably. She holds onto you in her sleep and mumbles something you can’t make out. You wait and get a quiet “stay…don’t go”. You stay.
This happens a few more times before your invited into her bed. You slept on the floor before to avoid making her uncomfortable.
Refuses to admit that she likes being the little spoon, but she has the best sleep when she feels safe and protected by someone she trusts deeply.
Likes to nap in the sun under her trees with you. The warmth and the smell of the fruit is relaxing.
Doesn’t ask you to nap, just expects you to agree. Drags you to nap when she’s had a bad day.
Please just hold her for a bit and listen to her rant about stuff. She appreciates it more then you’ll ever know.
Usopp
Tries to act chill when you fall asleep on him for the first time.
Is smiling while trying to act annoyed like it’s an inconvenience (he feels so happy do NOT believe him)
Another one to fall asleep while creating. If you can’t pull him away wrap a blanket around him and place a pillow under his head.
Usopp is a lonely guy, considering he didn’t really have any friends before the straw hats (not including the Usopp pirates and Kaya).
If feels nice to be chosen
Likes to tell you stories (real and make believe) as your winding down to sleep.
Lights up when you smile or laugh because of him.
Makes it his goal to make you smile at least once before the end of the day. Even if it’s just an eye smile, he knows he’s made you happy, and that makes him happy.
LOVES late night talks. Doesn’t matter what it’s about. He’s happy to spend time with you.
Does his best not to wake you up in the morning if your not ready to wake up. Will save you some food (from Luffy) if your not awake yet.
Will be thinking of stories all day to tell you. Of course he tells the rest of the crew, mainly Chopper and Luffy, as well. But your late night talks hold a special place in his heart and day.
Is forever grateful you chose him as your best friend.
Sanji
Another one who has a hard time accepting affection (Zoro, and Robin too).
Happens after he has a nightmare about his family (this feels familiar ha).
You catch him up super late and ask him what’s wrong.
He doesn’t tell you right away (especially if it’s before Whole Cake) and gives a vague explanation of having a hard time sleeping.
You offer to help, and for some reason (sleep deprivation due to stress) he agrees.
You bring him back to bed and hold him. He’s not used to being held and take a bit to relax and get comfortable. The last time someone held him like this was either Zeff or his mom. Probably his mom.
This repeats for about a week before he starts seeking you out. He’s embarrassed about it at first but can’t deny he does sleep better with you around.
At some point, you start waking up with him and keeping him company while he makes breakfast. Whether you help him or not depends on what he’s making.
You keep him entertained while he cooks, and he makes you a little extra as a thank you.
Of course he’ll deny this if you bring it up, so if you want extra, just enjoy it.
He may tell you more about his dreams as time goes on, but nothing huge until you actually meet his family. Then he doesn’t even need to tell you, you just know when he’s having a hard time and step up the comfort.
He’s grateful to have such a wonderful crew to call his own.
I’ll probably do a part 2 with the rest of the straw hats later, but I’m tired and want to post this already. The straw hats deserve some comfort with all that trauma.
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character-babblings · 2 months
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i am once again on my Luke Castellan bullshit but listen hear me out.
MDNIIIIIIII 18+ only
Luke who is so in love with the daughter of Eros. he swear she put every single star in the sky. he's always watching from a distance. he's so obsessed with the way she just floats around campus. watching her sit in a meadow when she thinks she's alone. he watches as she eats fruit and how it stains her delicate finger tips. the way the sun just glows on her skin. it drives him crazy. he just has to have you. and he does everything from picking flowers to making cute little gifts for you. finally caving and saying yes to being his.
and you both love each other so hard. like romeo and juliet style. you do anything and everything together. like when you play capture the flag he's making sure your hear is all right and tight before giving your helmet a kiss and telling you to be safe in your designated area.
then that night you two sneak off and make your way to the water. and he just lets you talk about anything that comes to your mind ever. occasionally chiming in or tucking some hair behind your ear and making you blush. he just fucking loves you.
and when it came to making love he was willing do whatever you wanted. he can eat you out for however long you can take it. he loves eating you out on the beach (with a blanket under you of course to protect you) kissing every inch of your body and telling how much you mean to him. he's a whiney mess sometimes. like if you get on top and ride him doing slow and deep strokes as the moonlight just makes you fucking grow. he's reaching grabbing for the back of your head with hooded eyes so he can kiss you.
"oh pretty girl. you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen. everything about you is so gorgeous. look in my eyes and tell me what you need sweet girl." when you tell him you need him so back he's quick to flip you over. his thrust picking up slightly as he can practically fucking feel you cream all over him. "fuck i can feel you getting wetter sweet girl. do you feel me right here?" guiding your hand to the bulge in your lower tummy as you whine. "oh princess don't whine like that. i'll blow inside you way too fucking quick. just be patient little one." he grunts in your ear as his teeth tease your ear lobe. as he soaks in every inch of your naked body. he's so obsessed with every curve, with every stretch mark, with every mark or scar. he's obsessed with fucking you.
and sometimes he just really needs to fucking give it to you. when he's frustrated he likes to use you. well actually you like it A LOT when you let him do whatever he needs to do. and of course he loves his little fuck doll. his fuck doll who just gets so insatiable sometimes. pawing at his pants in the middle of the forest begging to put it in your mouth as his hand goes to caress your face.
"of course you can, my pretty little slut. you can suck on it as long as you want. but i'm cumming so deep in your pussy. my pussy i should say. because this sweet little dripping thing? belongs to me. let me hear you say it sweet girl..." he trails off. "your pussy sir." you mumble. he sighs giving your face a slight sharp tap. "that's not how you should say it. open" as he spits in your mouth before prompting again. when you finally correct yourself he smiles before just wrecking your mouth
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urhoneycombwitch · 3 months
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shrine of your lights
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🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one? 
🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader 
wc: 4.8k
content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)
foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!
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The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.
When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all. 
To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing. 
You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.
Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.
While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.
“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”
The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”
There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.
You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out. 
“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”
The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”
You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”
The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.
You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath. 
“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”
“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”
This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”
You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”
He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”
“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”
He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”
Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”
“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”
He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”
You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”
Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin. 
“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance. 
Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears. 
The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”
He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts. 
Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera. 
You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place. 
That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson. 
He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.
You almost believe him. 
He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business. 
The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.
“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.
You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention. 
“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.
The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.
Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard. 
There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby. 
“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”
Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”
You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”
Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.
“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”
Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.
He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.
Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.
Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”
You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”
Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”
With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”
Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”
“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.” 
There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.
He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”
In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”
Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”
Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”
“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”
His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.
“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.  
It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.
But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache. 
You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons). 
Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”
“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass. 
You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.
“What?”
“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”
So you let him look. 
While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes. 
After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”
You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”
“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”
Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.
So why is it making you so sad?
You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack. 
Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes. 
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”
Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”
You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up. 
In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.
“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”
“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.
Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot. 
His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.
“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”
“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”
Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”
At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.
And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.
It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space. 
You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.
“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”
Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.
His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.
Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”
Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”
He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.
“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”
“Jesus fucking christ.”
Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”
“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side. 
You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket. 
“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”
You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”
When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm. 
Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks. 
Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”
He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.
When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”
Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.
“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”
“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”
Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”
When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.
“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”
Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”
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notjustjavierpena · 5 months
Text
Heat
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: Many many moons ago (this might be an exaggeration), I wrote a direct message to @undercoverpena about one of her text posts that sent me into a horny spiral. I loved it. You can read the text post here. At lot happened since then, and I bet you all that she must have forgotten or thought I would not finish it, but alas I return from the dead.
Summary: Javier looks so delicious doing hard work under the sun. The kids aren’t home. Heat is not just what the sun gives, it can also be a state of your body.
Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, clit stim, piv sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, rough sex, javi p is sweaty and you are horny
Word count: 3k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51636391
Heat
It’s a thousand degrees outside.
It’s the beginning of autumn and it’s boiling hot, so warm that one cannot fully enjoy the weather when it makes everything feel crispier. You’ll be damned if you are going to spend the sparse and sacred hours of being childfree inside your house with a pout though, because your father-in-law has the kids after a long period of him being unable to babysit.
One would think that now that your three children are in Abuelo Chucho’s hands, it would mean having a long-awaited, as well as well-deserved, date night with your husband, but Javier has decided to spend the day renovating the back porch in the heat. You haven’t rolled your eyes at him yet, but the urge has been there several times.
You sit on the porch swing, dangling your feet just above the wooden boards that are soon to be removed and replaced. There’s a glass of cold lemonade in your hand, a bee buzzing somewhere nearby. 
Javier is in the shed at the back of the garden. You can hear him move things around, occasionally letting out a swear word moments after something clatters to the floor with a loud bang. 
You sip your lemonade through its straw. The honey bee has found the bush of lavender, and you let your eyes close to listen to the sounds of late summer, the start of fall. The sun dances on your lids, sweat forms at the small of your back just above your shorts and right below your cropped t-shirt.
After a few minutes where you’ve leaned back into the backrest of the porch swing, and nearly fallen asleep, you hear Javier returning. Automatically, your eyes open at hearing him speak. 
“Hey, enjoying yourself?” He has come over to peck your lips. You allow it, holding up the glass of lemonade afterward to watch his lips close around the straw. He takes a long sip whilst his eyes are fixed on yours.
“Gotta stay hydrated if you want to work in this heat,” you note.
“Just gonna be all pretty sitting there and watching me?” He asks after swallowing, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his Adam's Apple bobs.
“Mh-hm,” you nod without saying much, knowing you’ll break if you try to get an actual sentence out.
“Alright,” he just replies, and you swear you catch some sort of undertone in his voice. He kisses you again, lingering a second too long for you to be indifferent towards it, and then stretches again. A less collected version of you wants to undo his belt right there, but you let him go instead. Not without regret though.
And then he starts working, dragging planks across the soon-naked porch deck, and you start sweating even more at the sight. Even moreso at the grunts he elicits during his labor.
Javier is beautiful underneath the burning sun, sweat-slicked chest hair peeking out from under his grayish shirt that he has unbuttoned at the top. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows because they cannot go up any further than that, tightening around the beginnings of his biceps and causing your head to swim when you think about those arms around you. 
You allow yourself to ogle him as he is lost in the task. The straw in your lemonade sits in your mouth, your tongue curling around it briefly before you sip to clench your thirst. There’s sweat collecting on Javier’s brow, threatening to drip down, and when it finally does slide down the side of his head, your eyes burn from refraining from blinking as you watch the beads roll down his neck and into the clavicle of it. You press your thighs together.
The gray shirt has darkened in color around his shoulders due to dampness. Whenever Javier turns his back to you, you can see the darker patch has reached his lower back too. Your tongue darts out to lick at nothing around your mouth, and you know that your husband would laugh at you if he saw it.
There’s something dirty about watching the way he brushes slick hair from his forehead. He has knelt down on the deck by now, occasionally on all fours when he reaches for something in front of himself, and when he gets really concentrated, straining his back muscles so much that the shirt starts fighting for its life, he pulls a face that nearly makes you fall off the porch swing. 
You bite your lip, choose your words but none seems to do the job so you settle for something more simple, “Javi.”
“Sí, mi amor?” Javier doesn’t look up. 
You remind yourself that he has talked about redoing the porch since his father agreed to take the kids. You won’t spoil it for him, and you know that a half-finished project with three kids is not an ideal situation for you, so you compose yourself.
“I think I need to get out of the sun for a bit, can I get you some water?” You ask instead of getting on your knees to beg - or more - and then you walk past him. 
“Sure,” he replies as you pass him, and it makes you unable to see the smirk on his face, “Water would be great. Thanks, honey.”
Inside the kitchen, you fill a glass with cold water from the refrigerator. You even get a few ice cubes from the tray in your freezer but instead of dumping them into your husband’s drink, you hold them against your chest with a sigh of relief. Something burns in the pit of your stomach, even more when you return to the porch and hand Javier the glass of water. He hasn’t gotten less enticing; shirt clinging to him, hair sticking to his forehead, a groan as he gets up from the floor.
“Should be done by tomorrow,” he says as he takes the glass from your hand, causing a bolt of electricity to shoot down your spine as your fingers brush. It’s ridiculous since both of you know that he is yours already. 
“Mm-hm,” you watch him gulp down nearly all of his drink. 
And then he does something that you might never recover from; he pours the remaining water over himself in an attempt to cool down. It wets his hair even more, and he runs his thick fingers through it to shake out the excess droplets. 
Time stands still. Your heart hammers in your chest, pulse traveling through your veins until you can feel the throbbing of each heartbeat between your legs. You press your thighs together and let out a whimper of breath. 
“Baby?” You say softly to earn a hm? It feels shameful to meet Javier’s eyes. However when you do, you notice his pupils have dilated in desire, gaze flickering down your body for the shortest time, and you choose to strike. 
You step into Javier’s personal space, hand reaching up to lie on his chest. The soft pads of your fingers rest on his skin where his buttons are undone, and you try to keep a doe-eyed look on your face as you rub his exposed skin gently.
“I was thinking,” you start, trail off.
“Yes?” He drags the word out. You can hear the smirk on his face but it feels too vulnerable to look him in the eye.
“Since we’re alone,” you continue, gaze fixated on the chest hair that is exposed in the heat, “And since there’s air conditioning inside, we could do something together.”
“Do what?” He says like someone who has figured you out. His strong hand comes up to wrap around your wrist, lifting your palm to his mouth. He kisses it. 
Your face burns with embarrassment at the fact that you can barely contain yourself in his presence. That and the fact that it is usually so easy, so why does it feel so difficult to ask for what you want? 
“You know what.”
“I need you to say it, need you to ask for it, mi vida,” he teases and places your hand on the side of his face. He releases a breath at your touch, eyes fluttering closed so you feel brave enough to look up at his face. He leans further into you and looks as ready as you to give in. 
“I need you to touch me,” your voice trembles. Javier just barely shudders at hearing your words, opening his eyes once more to reveal their darkened color. 
“Touch you where?” Javier continues his little game. He mirrors you, touches your face too, “Here?”
“No.”
His hand moves down to brush your neck, “Here then? It must be here.”
“No,” you shake your head, “Please, Javi.”
Javier’s hand slides down your front and settles on the exposed skin of your belly. It causes you to hold your breath. Then it goes down, slips past the elastic band of your shorts and into your damp underwear. You gasp as two of his fingers slide through the wetness between your legs, tips finding your pulsing clit immediately after. Thank God you have hedges around the back garden and thank God that they’re tall enough to keep prying eyes away from the scene that unfolds. 
“What about here? I hope it’s here because I don’t want to stop,” he rubs you off slowly until your legs start to shake underneath you. He works his fingers back and forth, from side to side, one on either side of your clit and something builds and builds and—
You come with a little cry and bury your face in Javier’s chest. Your hand on the side of his face falls down to his shoulder which you grip as you soak your underwear even more, thighs trapping his hand as they clamp together. As your head spins, Javier chuckles out a swear word above you. 
“Never gets old,” he adds and you start giggling. 
After a few seconds of letting you breathe, Javier cups your face and lifts your lips to his own in a kiss that tells you everything you need to know, where you’re heading, which direction. You kiss him back slowly and he licks the inside of your mouth, guides you toward the screen door that leads inside of the house. He has you, you want to say, body and soul. 
“Let me take my beautiful wife to bed,” he begs and you nod repeatedly, mumbling a soft plea. He peppers you with sweet kisses that turn more heated as you get closer to the bedroom door. He toes off his shoes on the way, leaving them forgotten in the hallway along with pieces of clothing that he sheds you and himself of. 
When you’re both naked, sticking together from the sweat that is already shining on your skin, he hoists you up and carries you to the bed effortlessly. You cling to him by wrapping your limbs around his body, and he kneels down on the bed and places you on your back - and then he doesn’t leave but instead melts into you.
“Te deseo mucho, mi amor,” he murmurs and crushes you so heavenly with his weight, connecting his lips to your throat and sucking a purple mark onto your skin. You’ll scold him for it later but right now, you simply whine. His voice vibrates against your neck, “You really thought all I was gonna do was redo the stupid porch? Not do you?”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you bite back with no real hostility, first snorting at his choice of words and then letting out a sigh as he continues tasting your salty skin, “I was ready to go insane, so please fuck me.”
“Dramatic as ever,” he teases and then holds himself up with one arm so he can reach down between your bodies. You bend your legs and let your knees fall out to the sides, breath hitching until it becomes a whimper when the head of Javier’s cock slides through your folds. 
“Please,” you say, and have never been so willing. His cockhead catches on your clit, and your moan comes out a lot louder than intended. You are just about to cover your mouth with your hand when you realize you don’t have to; you can cry and whine and scream all you want to. It makes you yearn for him in a newfound sense and makes you want to scream already. 
“Paciencia, mi amor,” he tuts but still reads your mind. He enters you a moment later, pushing inside easily from the slick that’s already smearing your inner thighs. He groans as you take him, eyes intensely focused on yours whilst stretching your pussy open in a delicious sting. Your hands find his broad shoulders instead of their usual place clamped down on your mouth. You let yourself be noisy as you adjust.
“That’s it,” he slurs, “Be noisy all you want. Good girl.”
When he pulls out and eases back in, the two of you moan in unison. He does it again but follows it up with a breathless laugh when your noises already climb in pitch. 
“I know, baby, I know,” he says soothingly as if you’ve hurt yourself.
But then he shows no mercy and speeds up. His rhythm becomes something else entirely; hard and fast, sending the eyes in your head rolling backward into your skull with a f-fuck dripping from your lips.
Everything is so different. Usually, you breathe so deeply into each other’s bodies, connecting your lips whenever the other is about to give away what the two of you are doing to the rest of the house. Your noses will bump against each other as you are impossibly close to one another, an occasional h-ah escaping your mouth or a low grunt from Javier’s, and if not even a kiss can cover up the noises, Javier’s strong hand or your own will cover your mouth as you cry through the most intense orgasms a man has ever given you.
But now. Oh God. Javier is making you sing until the house is shaking, every noise bouncing off the walls to ricochet right back to your ears. You can hear yourself sound obscene as he makes you come a second time, wanton moans falling from your slack mouth. You tremble, thighs jiggling along his sides as he drives his cock into you to prolong your pleasure. 
“There you are, Christ, you are perfect,” he praises, continues to pound your oversensitive cunt, “Let it all out, baby.”
“More,” you beg, “Don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grunts. 
You reach down between your legs as best as you can, already thinking of a third orgasm now that your clit is untouched. If not only to shout yourself hoarse.
Javier traps you between his arms, propping himself up on his forearms and sliding his fingers into your hair. He tugs slightly as he rolls his hips, pain erupting from your sensitive follicles and adding to your third high that is building. 
You circle your clit fast, barely able to contain yourself as your cunt goes off into delicious spasm. You think you might actually start crying with how intense it feels, Javier’s cock twitching inside of you whilst he moans too. He buries his face in your shoulder.
“Don’t pull out,” you gasp up at the ceiling, nails creating little crescent marks on the muscles of his broad shoulder, “Javi, oh fuck, come in me. Don’t pull out. Pleasepleaseplease.”
The comment makes Javier pull back a little, raising himself on his elbow to look down at you. His fingers are still in your hair, an occasional moan tumbles out of his mouth as he continues reaching deep inside of you, and his eyes bore into yours. He furrows his brow from being so close, barely able to speak from how ragged his breathing is.
“What—?” He grunts. Any moment now.
“Not ovulating,” you moan back at him, tightening your legs around his waist to punctuate your want, your need. You try meeting his every thrust to encourage his own high, “Please, baby. Need you to come in me.”
“Mierda, estas una chica sucia,” his hips stutter, “You love getting filled to the brim, don’t you?” 
You nod frantically. 
“Just want me to keep knocking your sweet cunt up, huh?” He moans. 
“Yes. Whole fucking football team.”
“C’mere,” he catches your mouth in a heated kiss, nodding slightly, but it turns messy as soon as he gets to orgasm. He whimpers into your mouth when he is just on the brink, and then he gasps as the first rope of come starts to fill you. You let out a big sigh against his mouth for show, taking everything he has to give you whilst he shudders in your arms. 
It takes a moment to calm down. Your arms rest beside your head and your eyes close, trying to calm your heavy breathing. Above you, Javier hisses when he pulls out of you and you can immediately feel his come dripping out of you. 
Javier kisses your exposed chest. He slides his hands up your forearms to eventually hold each of your hands, flopping down onto you again. 
“Ice water,” you say after a while of laying together like this. 
“Hm?” He squeezes your hands.
“Go get some ice water, your wife is boiling.”
“Fine,” he groans. 
When he comes back, he has also brought a towel and you spend the rest of the afternoon trailing ice cubes across your warm skin after cleaning yourself up. It’ll be easier to work in the colder evening sun anyway.
.
.
.
FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️
710 notes · View notes
sinsandsweetness · 8 months
Note
💿 I was thinking maybe Daryl and consensual somnophilia ? If that’s alright?
cw- somnophilia. proceed with caution.
18+ below the cut
You’re so fucking close to him. He can’t help the way his body’s reacting. Sharing a sleeping bag as an attempt to keep warm in the crisp autumn evening. It’s working. Oh boy, is it ever working. He’s warm. Hot even. Burning up at the feeling of your ass pressed to his crotch. And not to mention, he’s rock solid. Trying his absolute hardest not to move his hips against you but goddamn, you’re not making it easy. The way you’re pushing back on him in your sleep…
You are asleep. He knows that. You don’t want him. It’s just your body reacting to his. To the closeness. At least that’s what he tells himself.
What he wouldn’t give to pull your pretty little pyjama pants down and fuck you sideways til the sun comes up.
“Mmhm,”
He freezes at the sound of your moan. Was he rocking too hard? Did he wake you up from the throbbing tent in his pants?
But as he listens closely, he can still hear that soft, adorable snore coming from your nose. At the realization, his shoulders relax and he nuzzles his face into your neck.
He knows he’d be way too scared to touch you like this if you were awake. The way he’s breathing in your scent, with his lips brushing your neck. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. Against his painfully hard, swollen erection. The one that’s probably leaking through his flannel pyjama pants if he had the courage to turn around and feel. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even want to know if it’s true. The thought alone makes him cringe. God, he feels pathetic. The only time he can show you what you mean to him is when you aren’t even awake to see it. To feel it. Well… you can feel it. But you’re not aware of it. You’re not even conscious.
The hand around your waist trails lower. Reaching the thin band of your sleep pants, Daryl starts to fidget with the flimsy drawstring. Fighting the temptation to slip his hand underneath and rub you over your panties. Show him how much you really mean to him.
He shouldn’t. He knows better. But for some reason it doesn’t stop him from grinding further into your ass. Squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling, doing everything in his power not to moan right in your ear.
His stomach drops when he feels your hand grab his. The one fidgeting with your drawstrings. His mouth gets all dry and he feels like he’s about to throw up. That is, until you press his hand further down, guiding his touch to your cotton covered cunt.
He’s frozen. Confused. Heart racing so hard he can feel it against the pillow. He can hear his blood pumping through his damn arteries.
You moved. He knows you’re still asleep. He’d put money on it. But you fucking moved his hand in your sleep and now, he doesn’t even know what to do with himself.
His temptations get the best of him and slowly, he starts to rub lazy circles over your clit. Soft, tired mumbles begin to leave your throat. No words, just faint, sleepy sounds. Groans and whimpers. Subconsciously asking for more. Begging for some form of release.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. Continuing to grind into your ass. Slow as his body will let him. He can already feel his orgasm starting to build. Dick throbbing as he uses your cheeks. Chasing the sweet friction of your warmth against his cock.
He can’t help himself. He doesn’t even want to. It’s a miracle you haven’t woken up yet, and it’s giving him this rush of adrenaline that has him wondering what else he can get away with. What else you can manage to sleep through.
That’s when he slips his hands under your waist band. Under your panties too. The pad of his middle finger immediately going to glide up through your drooling slit. Already soaking with arousal.
Shit.
Your warm cunt practically invites him in. He starts pumping to the same rhythm as his thrusts against your ass. You let out a moan at the feeling of his thick digits hitting your sweet spot.
Fuck. He buries himself into your neck as he fingers you. He doesn’t even want to see if he woke you up. You’re not stopping him. So you mustn’t have an issue, on the off chance that you are awake.
You’re still gripping the arm that’s wrapped around you, muscles flexing against your touch as his fingers work their borderline magic below the covers. You feel yourself drifting in and out of that drowsy state between awake and asleep. Feeling the warmth encompass you as your orgasm starts to flow through you. A wave of dreamlike pleasure erupting from your core as the man’s hips from behind you start to stutter. Cumming right there in his pyjama pants. His movements slow to a halt as he’s forced to come to terms with what he’s done. His eyes are still closed. Too scared to look up and see your pretty ones looking back at him. So with his blue eyes closed, he gently removes his hands from your panties, still dripping with your creamy substances.
It’s hitting him. The fact that he just made you come. And he’s starting to feel guilty, the feeling quickly forcing him to come down from his high. Stomach beginning to churn as his heart rate speeds up once again.
Just turn around and go to sleep.
He listens to the voice in his head. Trying his best to turn over without making a sound. Without bothering your limp body laying next to him.
He lifts his fingers to his mouth and he’s convinced he could come again from the taste of you.
Within a few minutes, he starts to doze off, facing the dark, mesh siding of the tent. He feels you rustle beside him in the sleeping bag. Flipping around and snaking an arm around his own waist. Quickly settling your body against his back. Cuddling up like his puzzle piece and tucking your chin on his shoulder.
You press a sweet kiss right below his ear and mumble a quiet, “g’night, D.”, into his skin.
And to avoid the humiliation that rapidly shoots up his core and burns like a fire across his whole face, he decides that it’s probably his turn to pretend to be asleep.
977 notes · View notes
heavenlyheesire · 23 days
Text
in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman
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WHO : bf!heeseung x fem!reader
GENRE : fluff, established relationship, shopping!au, suggestive (if you squint)
SYNOPSIS : in which you and your boyfriend decide to go shopping and somehow end up at victoria’s secret
WORDCOUNT : 2328
˗ˏˋ  ur listening to :: TAYLOR SWIFT's "slut!" ˎˊ˗
1:26 ————————•——————— -3:00
♪ everyone wants him, that was my crime, the wrong place at the right time, and i break down then he's pulling me in, in a world of boys, he's a gentleman ♪
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You wake up, feeling relaxed and ready to start the day. The night before was intense, seeing as your lovely boyfriend, Heeseung, had given you immense pleasure beyond belief. Lying in bed, mind wondering about the plans for the day, you peeked out of the curtains. It was a sunny day, the sky bright and full of joy - a perfect day for retail therapy; although, retail therapy isn’t as fun alone as it is with great company. A loud noise sounded, pulling you out of your thoughts. After a few seconds of searching, you grab your phone bringing it to your ear. 
“Hello?” you say sleepily. A chuckle rings from the phone, “hi little siren, how was your sleep?” Smiling at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, you answer, “it was good, slept like a baby.” Heeseung smiles even though you can’t see him, “I’m glad my love, we had a long night… but say what do you think about doing a little damage to our wallets today?” Picking at a lint on your lilac sheets, you ponder “by that, do you mean your wallet Seung?” He scoffs and lets out a breath, “nooooo… yes, I am not letting you spend a dime whenever you’re with me, ever.” You whine, “Heeseung~, you know it makes me feel bad whenever you pay for everything, especially since you never let me pay you back.” There was silence for a moment, before he sighs out loud, “bun, it IS fine, it’s my pleasure to make sure you don’t have to worry about something as silly as money, your presence is all I ask for in return.” With a frown, you ask, “are you sure? I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your kindness.” You hear shuffling on his end of the line followed by the sound of his bed springing under him, “you’re mine and I take care of what belongs to me, plus what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t buy you everything your heart longed and desired for?” The words you had wanted to say died in your throat, unable to say a thing. Lost for words you decided it was better to remain quiet than answer and potentially start an argument. “Mmmh, that’s what I thought. I’m coming to get you in thirty, so be ready by then” he sternly said. You laugh at his tone of voice, “yes sir, bye-bye.” Hanging up the call, you get out of bed and straight to getting ready. 
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A knock on the door startles you out of your daydreams and back to reality. As you near the entrance to your apartment, a girly voice starts, “housekeeping!!” Opening the door, you see Heeseung with a boyish smile on his face and a bouquet of baby’s breath. “You ready little siren?” he says handing you the flowers. You grab them and nod a yes “thank you, they’re beautiful, let me just put these in water, grab my purse and we can be on our way.” He smiles and nods a little. The silence gives you time to collect your thoughts and calm your nerves. 
There was nothing to be worried about when it came to Heeseung. He was everything you didn’t know you needed. He was the moon to your sun, the stars to your sky, the cream to your latte. You were always in awe of him; his kind heart, his loving nature, his selflessness, everything that he was made you fall even more in love with him. On the other hand, all those wonderful qualities made you a little nervous from time to time. Heeseung was this perfect human being with no bad bone in his body and you were just plan ordinary you. Although that wasn’t bad at all, sometimes you just wondered why he chose you out of all the beautiful women in this world. But that was another thing for another day. 
You walk out of your room, purse in hand, ready to spend the day with your favorite boy. “Okay I’m ready Seung” you call out making your way to the door. Heeseung jogs over, grabbing the door handle before you get the chance to, “after you, my lady.” Blushing at his actions, you grab his hand swinging your hands, and walk to his car together. 
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Busy. That was the one word going through both your and Heeseung’s heads the moment you got to the mall. It was good to finally be spending time with your boyfriend even if it would be surrounded by hundreds of people. Pulling Heeseung along with you, you guys walked from store to store just enjoying each other’s company. 
After two hours of walking and shopping together, you stopped to rest on a bench. “You seriously didn’t have to buy me everything I touched” you say towards Heeseung. He shakes his head in response, “yes I did, you deserve everything.” Unable to look at him because of how flustered you got, you look in the opposite direction of him. Unbeknownst to Heeseung, he follows your eyesight and sees the bright pink sign: Victoria’s Secret. Thoughts start swirling in his mind, going from zero to a hundred very fast. You suddenly gasp, “oh my God, I completely forgot I need new panties and pajamas.” Heeseung starts coughing and looks away, afraid you’ll catch on to his sudden panic. “Come on bub, let’s go! You can help me pick them out too” you excitedly say, getting up from the bench. He hesitantly stands up and follows you into the excessively pink store shyly. 
Drawers of underwear, racks of bras, rows of lingerie, it was all too much for Heeseung’s mind. He couldn’t help but imagine you in every lace, satin, and mesh piece that landed in his sight. It took everything in him not to drag you back to his car and claim you as his like he had the night before. You usher him to the fitting rooms with all the clothing in your arms dragging him out of his daydreams. He waits outside of your room for a couple of minutes before you open the door and show him a satin black set, “what do you think?” You give him a little twirl and smile, hoping he loves it as much as you do. He nods, words seeming to get lost in his head, “I, it-it’s good, I like it.” Smiling, you walk back into the room and try on the next set. Heeseung lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He’s seen you in many types of clothing from corsets to micro-skirts to mini dresses, but nothing will ever compare to how you look in just your panties and bra. Heeseung had always believed there was beauty in simplicity… then he met you and further proved his point. You could wear a trash bag and Heeseung would think you were the epitome of beauty, the very definition of the word itself. To him, you are the reason why the phrase “beauty & grace” exists. 
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, you open the door again and show him a lacey lilac set, “how about this one? Thought I could get one in your favorite color.” Eyes wide and mouth hung open, Heeseung stares without saying a word. You chuckle and your cheeks turn a bright shade of pink similar to the dressing room walls, “Seungie, close your mouth before you catch a fly with it.” Heeseung shakes his head and looks you up and down with a dazed look on his face. Shy all of a sudden, you hide behind the door, hoping Heeseung will say anything at this point. “Uh-huh, don’t hide from me, I wanna stare at you a little bit longer” he frantically rushes out. You look up at him while whispering, “so you like this one?” He gives you a confused look, “like this one? Little siren, I LOVE this one. I am absolutely buying you this. For sure.” Blushing at him again, you back up into the room before Heeseung stops you, “wait, I saw a dress and I’d like to see it on you if that’s okay with you.” You mouth okay and close the door while you wait for your boyfriend to return. 
Knocking startles you for a second time today. “Bun, it’s me” Heeseung excitedly whispers through the door. You crack it open just enough for him to hand you the dress without anyone seeing your gorgeous body. After the door is fully closed, you hang it on the hook and step back to see it in its full glory. The dress is a midnight blue color with gold suns and silver moons embroidered throughout the fabric. In awe of the piece, you stare at it for a good minute before trying it on. You stared at yourself in the mirror before going to show the man that you love. Opening the door to see Heeseung standing with his hands in his pocket, he looked up and his eyes practically popped out of his head. Laughing a little bit at his reaction, he walks to you and grabs your waist, facing you toward the mirror. He stares at you through the mirror, rubs his face on your neck, and asks, “may I confess something to you, my little siren?” You look at him while smiling and nod. He clears his throat and continues, “I've had a crush on you ever since I can remember. It’s weird. I never thought I could feel like this, but you showed up. Now, it’s like I don’t wanna go on knowing I might lose the feeling.” Your eyes soften and you cup your lover’s cheek, bringing his face towards yours, “I love you more than words can express.” 
Finally, you press your lips to his in a soft, delicate kiss. Kisses with Heeseung always had you weak in the knees, but something about this time was different. Maybe it was the way Heeseung held your waist tighter, pushing you closer to his body, or the way you felt blood rushing through your veins, making you feel warm all over. Whatever it was, you never wanted to pull apart from his gentle, feathery lips. Heeseung leans away to let air into your lungs and rests his head on your forehead as best as he can. Heavily breathing, Heeseung pecks your lips and whispers against them, “has anyone told you you’re quite amazing at this?” You shake your head and laugh “I’m pretty sure you said something similar to me last night.” He thinks out loud, “oh yeah I did, huh?” You nod at him for the billionth time today and smile at his antics. 
Moments like these always made you want to stop time so it could just be the two of you in this world, relishing in each other’s warmth. Heeseung grabs your hand and spins you around. With a nod, he says “we’re so getting everything, hurry up and get changed, darling.” He walks out the door to give you your privacy, but not without giving your cute butt a little slap. 
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In line to pay for your things, Heeseung tries to convince you to get perfume, but you successfully refuse his offer. “Oh come on, it’ll make you even more sexier” he tries to persuade. You stand your ground, “no, you’ve already bought me enough today.” He pouts, sad you wouldn’t let him treat you to the finer things in life. You give him a kiss on the cheek, hoping it’ll cheer him up and thankfully he smiles down at you, giving you a peck on the lips. 
“Next customer please!!” 
You walk to the cashier, your items in hand and your boyfriend in tow. “Hi, did you find everything okay?” the cashier questions. Content, you answer “yes we did.” She hums happily “that’s good, that’ll be 195.69$. Will it be cash or card?” Heeseung steps in front of you, “it’ll be card.” You huff quietly and decide to keep your thoughts to yourself. The lady looks up and says “you have a good one, don’t let him go.” Snickering, you tell her “oh trust me, I won’t.” She hands you the bag and you’re on your way back to Heeseung’s car. 
Heeseung puts your bags into the truck and jogs to open your door, “your Majesty.” Eyes wide, you grab his hand and get into the car, “why thank you, kind sir.” Slamming the door closed, he runs to his side and slides into his seat. Once you’re both situated and comfortable, he opens his phone and hands it to you, “put some music on little siren.” Delighted to obligate his request, you take the phone from his hand and think of what to put on. A couple of seconds fly by before the idea came to you and you cheerfully type in the song. “Slut!” by Taylor Swift blasts through Heeseung’s stereo and he smiles at you. Knowing you’re a Swiftie who always plays her music whenever you’re together, he’s gotten to know some of the songs although this one wasn’t very familiar to him. 
You’re vibing along to the music when you turn toward him and sing “in a world of boys, YOU’RE a gentleman.” You give him a light kiss on the cheek so as not to disturb his driving. Heeseung blushes and turns to give you a smile in return. He turns the music down just a little bit to disclose “I love you so much” making you shy and hide in your sweater paws. As he drives into the sunset and as the sun dips below the horizon, he couldn’t help but think the girl of his dreams, who was sitting right beside him, her beauty outdid any of God’s creations herself. 
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hope you had an angelic time & drown in heaven again soon !!
© heavenlyheesire ..
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autisticsupervillain · 9 months
Text
Autistic Avatars not realizing that they're Avatars because they're just "like that": a thread
The Eye
Special Interest in the supernatural = constant food for The Watcher
You know about Interest? TELL ME EVERYTHING
"Hey man listen to me infodump about this horrifying ghost story I read for twenty minutes, alright?"
I need to Know everything about something before I partake in it.
"How did I Know that? Eh, I probably hyperfixated on it at some point."
I cannot be misunderstood so I'll beam the facts into your brain.
The Web
I must plan everything 200 steps in advance before doing anything.
I have prepared for all possible outcomes, I can now have this one conversation.
If I set up all these variables long in advance, then I can do everything correctly and Win the social interaction.
I cannot do anything before The Plan says to.
"I practice my social skills by talking to my spider friends." -Martin "Autism" Blackwood
The Stranger
I cannot socialize without being Uncanny.
If my socialization seems like an act, that's because it is. I practice it in the mirror every day.
Theater Kid
How do you Normal Human?
The Anatomy Class.
Assuming fellow Stranger Avatars also just have the 'Tism. They're not trying to be creepy, honest.
Can't do faces. Doesn't notice when you get replaced.
Being subtly off is too subtle for me.
The Lonely
"I have failed the social interaction. Let the fog reclaim me."
Talking to people is draining my batteries even faster than ever. I need to be alone for approximately 384,400,000 years.
Nothing can overstimulate me in the cool, blinding fog.
Nothing unpredictable can happen in the fog.
The fog is your friend.
The known connection between autism and depression feeds the fog.
The Dark
Why is the sun so god damn bright? I'm going to blow it up I swear.
Night Owl.
Everything's decently quite at night and people leave you alone.
Same overstimulation preventatives as the Lonely tbh. Dark and fog are good concealers.
The dawn is your enemy.
The dread florescent lights shall never bother me again. They break upon my arrival.
Can and will infodump to the monster under my bed. Even now it feels like it listens.
The Spiral
Autism makes getting other mental illnesses recognized hard.
Autism dissociation from body and mind. When did it become 3 AM and why do I hurt? Why am I grumpy? What vital self care task did I forget?
Literal mind doesn't often match reality. Reality is specifically unspecific.
Spaced out and wandered off. Where the fuck am I?
I'm not a mental baby, please stop treating me like it.
I'm not inherently dangerous, please stop treating me like it.
Memory problems my beloathed. Did that happen? I dunno.
What Is Time?
What Is Me?
The Gender
Why do things only make sense to me? What does no one else make sense?
The Flesh
Autism Genderfuckery = Flesh fueled dysphoria.
Meat is the only texture that's palatable. Especially the Mystery Meat.
Will never try any other foods. Too picky.
Infodumps about the horrors of meat processing at dinner and ruins the meal for everyone. More steak for me.
Hates PETA.
Double the arms means double the stim. You weren't using them, right?
Working out is a great stim.
The Corruption
Practices social interaction with the bugs who live in my walls.
"Insects are disgusting. I love them!"
Will protect endangered insects by any means necessary.
According to all known laws of aviation-
Relationship boundaries struggles.
Difficulty noticing sickness symptoms.
Is that nausea or am I overstimulated? *Accidentally causes supernatural plague outbreak*
Difficulty getting diseases diagnosed because of both Autism and noticing too many symptoms so the doctors assume they're faking.
Forgot vital hygiene needs.
The Bugs Are My Friends! They keep me company when I'm sick!
The Buried
Weighted blankets are insufficient, I need the Earth to reclaim me.
Avoid social interaction by tunneling everywhere like a mole.
101 facts about worms.
Forgor hygiene again. Time to become dirt.
Digging a hole is good stimming.
That guy who had to be buried alive to sleep properly. What do you mean you don't want to be buried?
The End
Aradia Megido from Homestuck.Com
That's it, that's the list.
The Desolation
The Autism Temper.
Losing relationships and friendships to ableism and your own disability constantly.
The Fire is a wonderful stim board. Watch it crinkle.
Just watching candles melt for hours.
The fire and thrill gives my life passion again.
Jude Perry.png
The Vast
Accidentally terrifying people by infodumping about the horrors of nature.
The stimulus of falling.
Nature/Space/Weather Documentary on in background always.
Okay, but from how high did you fall? I want to calculate your velocity as you fell through the void.
Weirdly enough... power scaling?
Power scaling is just the art of determining how easily your favorite characters can destroy mankind so... yeah, I can see it.
Brain empty, only terminal velocity.
The Hunt
Cat Autism
The inherent hyperfocus of the hunt. The chase. Your prey.
Studying the habits of your latest hyperfixation/Hunt assigned prey for days at a time.
I've spent so much time hunting in the woods that I forgot about human society. The Missing Person's Bureau have written you off for dead.
Returning to society to sell your wears and realizing you aren't human anymore.
That's okay. Social interaction is random. The Hunt makes sense.
It's black and white. Predator and prey. Humans hunting monsters. It Makes Sense.
The Slaughter
The incredible human WW1 documentary.
"Did you know?" *Describes horrible historic warcrime*
Takes apart puts back together guns from their collection.
The list of known casualties from this war is incomplete. With my help, they can expand it. :)
The Extinction
The world is spiraling towards its end and only you seem to care.
It hurts to be this passionate about a lost cause.
You Will Make Them Care.
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chosoisamalewife · 1 month
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* Sees the angst tag in the masterlist * me: 😈
I request the finest dish of Sukuna and Male reader, with the drink being Angst. Sukuna had kept his Male servant around in the heian era and began to have a soft spot for him. But when he found a servant's dead body, he began to go mad. Now, the rest is up to you.
Sukuna x male!reader
A/N : I am a big angst lover so the moment I saw this request I squealed and instantly started writing
A/N : I gotten inspiration from the last of us opening for the death scene. Also Sukuna and reader had a special thing 😉😉 ALSO SUKUNA IS HEAVILY OOC
Sukuna wasn’t a kind man,well he wasn’t a man to begin with, he was a curse object that hated basically everything. He wasn’t kind at all, he was rough and mean. He was one thing that has zero weakness or so he thought. There was you he never understood why he adored you so much. You were a pesky human to him, a mere servant of his. However he couldn’t help but to be soft and patient with you. He felt pathetic every time he saw you smile, every time he saw your eyes and skin glowing in the sun light. The way you looked at everything with kind eyes, even him, a monstrous being. The way you trace the patterns all over his body, your fingertips grazing his skin gently like he was fragile glass as your soothing voice spoke. Oh your voice was something he could listen to always, it was one of a kind to him. He hated it but oh he couldn’t tell you to stop. You were a weakness to him and he hated, he hated everything about it, yet he couldn’t get rid of you.
He has even tried to, there has been many times he has thought about killing you. He has pictured it many times and many different ways, sometimes they come out of the blue. The other times is when you are sleeping peacefully next to him, his eyes starring at your resting face trailing them down looking at all the marks from him. He couldn’t help but to imagine ripping your heart out right then and there, doing the same thing you have done to him, making you feel the same pain.
You didn’t understand it either why he was so gentle to you. When you first became his servant he treated you like the other. He was cold and ruthless to you, the only person you saw he even remotely nice to was uruame. The first time that you saw something different from was when you bumped into by accident. The force of him basically knocked the breath out of your lungs. You just stared up at him with fear as he just stared down at you. You gotten on your knees "I'm sorry King. I must have been distracted I didn't see you." Your voice shook with fear. He reached one of his hands down offering it to you. You looked at him confused
"Are you gonna take it or what?" He asked without any emotion or tone to his voice. You put your hand in his helping you raise up. From there you saw him slowly began to soften. He knew the track you walked in the castle so he eventually start to intercept that track. He knew you liked to paint so he start to let you go outside to do that with his "supervision" of course. You had a favorite spot too, it was under a tree surrounded by flowers, so he had other servant set up a area for you there. He stood out there with you for the most of it he wanted to make sure you didn't run away. But that was just an excuse. He stood out there because of how peacefully you looked. He liked how you looked when you concentrate, he liked how your strong hands look holding the brush. He also did it to make sure that no one would disturb you.
One thing he hated more than how gentle you were, was the way you looked when you cry. Sukuna wasn’t a patient being which caused a lot of fights between the two of y’all. Sukuna never felt the need to apologize to anyone or anything but with you he just couldn’t help it. He felt the need to apologize especially after a bad one. Such as the recent one, he was sitting on his throne thinking of the way your eyes filled with tear before you stormed off. The way you yelled “If you are so tired of me then kill me! Do it already!”
He decided to ask uraume to make your favorite dishes as a act of him apologizing to you. When he brought the food up to your door. He could hear sniffling. He thought your were still upset so he put the tray on the floor and knocked gently on your door. "Y/N, I know you're probably still upset but here is some food. " That’s when he heard you say his name but it wasn't normal. It was odd like you were hurt. He opened the door to find you bleeding on the floor.
He ran to your body lying on the ground, the was a big gash from your chest to your torso. “Y/N, going to be okay.” He took you in his arms trying to pick you up which caused you to scream in pain. “ I know, I know but you have to let me. I have to get you help.” He tried again, your nails were digging into his skin as you screamed. “I know baby, I know.” Baby was a nickname that he has never used until now, it was always brat. He stood up half way before the grip you had on him let go and everything went silent. Your body fell limp in his arms. “Y/N” He sat down on the ground with your body cradle in his arms. He sat there just staring at the opened window. If he wasn’t late he could’ve caught that person, the thing that killed you. Or he could've killed it before it hurt you. The thing that took you from him. He’s going to hunt them but he doesn’t want to kill them. No, killing them would be to humane. He wants to torture them until their body can’t take it and give up.
He sits there for hours in the the silence of what use to be your lively room. What once was a room filled with laughter, talking, and other noises is now a room with nothing. The sound of the door opening interrupted his thought. He turned his head looking at the intruder, it was another servant. “My kin-“ the servant wasn’t even able to get the full word out before a slash went through his body. Uraume eventually came the fetch the body before leaving sukuna alone again. It began a repeated process of servants intruding to only be killed in a second
This went on for 3 days, your body started to decay but he didn’t move. He stayed there not caring about the decay or the smell. “Sukuna” Uraume opened the door gently. He stared at them with a look in his eyes that they have never seen before. Was it heartbreak, anger, madness that he didn’t want to let out. Simply because he didn’t want to disturb your resting body.
“I don’t want to fucking hear it.” He barked at them. They crouch in front of him leaving your body in between them.
“Sukuna, I think we should give him a proper burial. He doesn’t deserve to rot here.” He sat there for a second considering it. "Please" They pleaded with him hoping to get in his mind. He nodded slowly. "Where do you want to bury him"
"I know a place." Sukuna and Uraume put you in beautiful clothing before burying you along with your paint and brushes. Your favorite place became your resting place, under the tree surrounded by flowers.
For hours the quiet castle became home to thunderous yells the sound of things being thrown. No one even dared to ask Sukuna if he was okay, it was clear to what would happen. They would become like those painting of yours that he has ripped up. Those gorgeous painted vases shattered on the floor, he didn't care about the glass stabbing his feet. Everything reminded you of him and he wanted it all gone, it all destroyed and dead just like you. Sukuna's madness went as far as killing every other servant that met you. They knew that you were a weakness to him and he couldn't let them live. He made sure that only him and Uraume remembered you.
Over the course of centuries you began to fade into the back of his mind, a place that he will never tap back into. Those memories no longer had the same effect on him. They didn’t make him soft like they use to. They made him angry, viewing them as a time that he was weak. He even forgot that he was on a hunt looking for the person or curse that killed you. If anything he now wishes it was him that did it. He sees you as having a victory over him simply because he couldn't. You were his biggest regret and now you exist forvever in the back in his mind. You were like a thorn in his foot that he can never get out. No matter how much it annoyed him, it will always be there so he learned to ignore it.
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thatfreshi · 7 months
Text
Greater Than This (Astarion x Reader)
Part 2 to It's Over
Tw - mentions of abuse
Recommended Song: If I'm Being Honest - Dodie
You walk around Baldur's Gate aimlessly, wondering if he'll follow you, wondering if he really meant everything he said. You didn't really mean it, when you said it was over, just something to hurt him the way he hurt you. That's the problem with you and Astarion: you can be so childish at times, always looking for an eye for an eye. Perhaps it's all you know. Maybe it was for the best, to not try and love one another, maybe you just didn't know how.
But then again, how could you sit there and let him become everything he hates? And why would he want that? Had he genuinely convinced himself it would be any different? That he wouldn't fall victim to demonic greed? Or was he truly just petrified, after centuries of being the beaten underdog? It makes your eyes water just thinking about it, the few things he had told you, the times your tadpoles connected and you were witness to atrocities you didn't know existed. It wasn't fair, but nothing is.
He's thinking about it too, the horrors of the kennels, the crypt and the taste of mold. Astarion didn't mean it when he said you were just like Cazador. In fact, he's nauseous at the thought of him even saying such a thing. But he snapped at you, and it was enough for you to say it was over. Were you being genuine? He wasn't sure, but he could very easily believe you'd want to leave him. Sure, he's so enraged, but he loves you truly. Two very hard feelings to balance. Unsure of what to do with all his scattered feelings, he finally makes his way downstairs to join the group.
"Well well, if it isn't the vampire of the hour. How ya doin' Astarion?"
Karlach gives him a slightly unwelcome pat on the back. He tries to think of some snarky thing to say, something sassy that will get a little laugh, but he can only muster up a meek sentence.
"Do you know where Tav is?"
It grips at his heart, how pathetic he felt. Gods, how could he be so angry but so sad? He knows you're often right, that you usually make better choices than him, but did you really make the right choice this time? Was he really so incredibly wrong? But still, you killed Cazador, which he had every right to do.
"They uh... they left a while ago. Seemed very upset."
Wyll takes a sip of his water afterwards, as if to avoid saying anything else.
"Guess it's a good thing I don't burn in the sun just yet."
Astarion leaves the inn, leaving your companions to speculate about the lover's quarrel. He walks around town looking for you, listening intently to all the footsteps nearby. Perhaps it was years of training himself, but he was quite good at determining whose steps were whose. You catch sight of him as you're sitting under a large oak tree, and part of you is furious. But the other part of you screams for him, begging him to notice you. He does soon enough, and he makes his way to the grassy patch beneath the leaves.
"Mind if I sit?"
You don't know what to say. Clearly he doesn't either, as he's questioning if he was even allowed to ask. Despite the confusion in the air, you pat the ground next to you.
"I don't think you're like him."
He wraps his arms under his knees.
"I know. But you still said it."
"I know. I guess I still say plenty of stupid things."
You look up at the sky, thinking about how sunny it is today.
"Did you really want to do the ritual Astarion?"
He lets out a small breath, like a tiny laugh.
"I don't know. I just wanted to feel like I meant something. I wanted to be something greater than this."
"You're already so extraordinary. I wish you could see that."
The vampire doesn't know what to say. How could he ever describe just how horrible he feels? He feels like nothing.
"Me too."
"You don't have to be some grand creature. You can just be Astarion."
"But who would ever respect that? A sad little boy, some meek vampire spawn with no master."
"I respect you."
"I didn't feel respected when you killed Cazador. You undermined me. You've never made me feel like that before, like I was less than you."
You start to cry again, putting a hand on his knee.
"I never wanted to make you feel less than, but I was so fucking scared. You were about to make a really bad decision."
"It just made me feel like you don't trust me."
"Of course I trust you, but it's easy for your view to become blinded when you're processing so much. Going back there, I know it was hard on you, and you wanted to take the easy way out, the path of least resistance."
His eyes meet yours.
"Would you be proud right now, if we were in that palace, if you had become the ascendant? Is that how you'd want to spend your days? Towering over people?"
"No. But at least no one could make me feel small again."
Astarion leans into your side, starting to let go, letting the emotions come and go.
"I know my love, I know you've been made to feel inferior your whole life, but it's over now. I won't ever let someone make you feel like that again."
"You- can't promise that."
"No, but I'll try my damnest."
You lay your head on his, and the two of you cry for a while, as strangers walk by, wondering what two adventurers are doing crying under a tree. Oh how little they know.
"You were right. To stop the ritual I mean. I think I was just angry with myself, how meek I felt."
"I still should've done it with your permission."
"You know how stubborn I am darling. I probably wouldn't have listened."
"I didn't give you a fair fight."
"Are we going to keep trading blame? Or can we just get to the part where we make up?"
You smile, wiping away a tear, and the two of you go in for a soft kiss.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too. See? Easy, we're even now."
"How do you do that? Just, realize you were wrong and move on?"
"It's easy. Or, it's easy with you at least. You don't ever get truly upset unless something matters, and you're usually more grounded than me. I get out of hand quite easily you know."
"Oh trust me, I know."
Light laughs in the sun, a static day with no breeze, just the heat beating down on the townspeople. It's not perfect. The two of you both overstepped, but you love each other enough to work through it, to try and see the other point of view, even if it's after nasty arguments. The two of you are messy, but damn do you love messy. Especially if messy is a white-haired vampire, who you get to spend the rest of your life with once the Elder Brain is gone. You see it now, a big house, and more stupid shouting matches that you'll fix shortly after. The price you pay to be two people trying to learn how to love, learning how to live, freely.
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ambers-archive · 3 months
Text
what if all i need is you?
2 times the universe conspires against Spencer and the 1 time it doesn't. no use of y/n
"I think we’re lost," Spencer mumbled, stealing a glance at you, you’re in his passenger seat and you look like a dream he thinks. 
He hates driving, usually avoids it, but watching you smile next to him and hearing you sing along to his favorite songs makes him think it’s not all bad.
"You think?" You laugh, meeting his eye.
He had the date perfectly planned in his head – a tour around the city since you just moved here. Showcasing his favorite bookstore, two tickets to his favorite museum's exhibit, the whole thing.
However, things were not going as planned. He found himself driving in circles, twists and turns multiplying at every corner.
The universe was taunting him.
"I swear, these street signs are conspiring against me," he muttered.
“In the meantime, we should enjoy this,” you suggested, pointing to a barely visible café on the corner, proposing an impromptu coffee stop.
With a slight smile tugging his lips, Spencer nodded.
“You’re in Med school?
Spencer asked, trying to hide his amazement.
It all makes sense now, he thinks. Rarely does he find someone who matches him intellectually, even rarer for him to enjoy conversations with them.
“I am! I know it’s a cliché saying, but I just want to help people, I want to make a difference in the world.”
“It’s not cliché at all, that’s really noble.” Spencer replied, a genuine smile forming on his face. The passion in your voice is like a breath of fresh air for him.
You blushed at the compliment, warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Thank you. It's not easy, but it's worth it if I can make a positive impact, even in a small way."
As if you took the words right out of Spencer’s mouth, hearing you made him realize the reason he started the BAU. 
And oh how beautiful it is to have that passion.
For so long, his work had only consisted of repetition; the work that had brought him happiness was now draining him of it all. His thoughts are audible emanating from your lips.
To make a difference, and just for a little while, listening to you happily describe your passion, the horrors of his job, which once clutched his heart so deeply, slowly started to fade.
“Where to next, Doctor?” 
“I hope you like museums, I was able to get us tickets to one of my favorite exhibits.” 
“Lead the way.” 
“I agree; the universe is not happy with you right now,” you laughed, both stranded in the middle of nowhere as his car broke down under the afternoon sun.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” he sighed, opening your car door. Taking his hand you led him towards the field, there were worse places to be stranded in you thought. 
“If we call for a cab right now, we can reach the museum in an hour, depending on traffic. We’ll miss the first half hour or so, but—”
“Spencer, look! The sun is setting.” You walked off into the distance, taking a seat near a tree.
“We’re going to miss the show.” He said disappointed. You looked up at him and the orange glow casted a beautiful hue over your face. Just when he thought you couldn't get prettier.
“No matter how much you try in life, you’re bound to miss something. Just take in the moment right now.” You say, patting the seat on the grass next to you.
To his own surprise, he obliges. 
He doesn’t mean to profile you, but it’s a reflex, a defense mechanism. Being around serial killers and rapists, he needs to know their every move. But right now, being in your apartment as you give him a tour, he lets go.
Realizing he doesn’t have to know everything about you right away; he can take his time.
He expected your room to be something like a catalog magazine, but books, plants, and paintings you've made surrounded you.
Messy maximalist, you called it.
Spencer learns you hate minimalism, you hate gray white empty spaces that don't feel like home.
He is almost envious of how carefree you are, willing to wear your heart out on your sleeve. Your guard has been down the whole time, a luxury Spencer can’t afford.
“Can I offer you some tea? I recently perfected my mom’s recipe for chai,” You asked, already boiling the water and getting your tea bags together.
“Tea sounds amazing.”
He looks around, forming a profile in his brain.
You’re messy, but you somehow find beauty in it. It doesn’t bother you; it makes sense, he thinks.
Artistic people are commonly messy.
“What books do you like?” Spencer asks, watching you get two mismatched cups out.
“I love classic literature, Persuasion is one of my favorites. I love Jane Austen and the way she captures love in its most pure form."
“How would you define love?” It’s a question that has been nagging him, he wants to pick apart your brain and know every thought.
He can tell you’re a hopeless romantic, and he now wishes he had accepted Garcia’s movie night invitation to watch Jane Austen movies.
He already has a sense, knowing you love classic period pieces, but he just wants to hear your explanation for it. 
“In Med school they teach us that love is a complex emotion, a bunch of hormones: dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin in the brain. I can’t say much about hormones but love is life, and it's just peaceful like the slow water going down a stream. But an immediate phenomenon, much like life itself. It fills and empties you all at once, swirling like a river's water after a storm. Your hands, heart, stomach, and skin are just a few places on your body where you can feel it. And it overtakes you so intensely. You don’t even realize it until you’re in it. You can’t exist without it, love is like breathing.” You sigh, a shy smile overtaking your lips “Sorry i tend to rant a lot.” 
Spencer meets your smile. It feels nice to be on the receiving end of someone rambling.  “I don’t mind one bit. I knew you were an artist but I didn’t peg you for a writer.”
“Have you been profiling me, Doctor Reid?” you ask, he smiles avoiding your gaze.
“Most writers are artistic people; that is, they are imaginative, creative, and productive when working in an environment that promotes self-expression. Not to mention you mentioned journalism being your minor, also I saw you had a typewriter.”
“You're amazing, Spencer,” you say, taking the kettle off the stove, pouring two cups of chai.
Spencer whispers your name, and you look over, your name falls so easily through his lips. This is what was missing from your life, you think.
“I think you’re one of the most unique people I’ve ever met.”
He says, taking your hand, interlocking your fingers.
You graze your thumb over his knuckles squeezing his hand, meeting his brown eyes. And as if the universe was on his side for once you lean forward, your lips meeting his. Lips meddling into each other as if it was made just for you.
The morning sun is beating down on his small car, and there you are sitting in his passenger seat laughing at his horrible jokes.
Your favorite songs playing in the background. You smile at him, and Spencer is lost again, but not because of the street signs. He's just lost in your smile.
This is what was missing from his life Spencer thinks.
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j-niret · 10 months
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写真を撮る
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✩‧₊˚ pairing — bf!lee minho x hyperfem!f!reader warnings — fluff, light smut (didn’t go too much in depth), minho is a soft dom, a lowkey salty minho (you’ll see why hehe), breeding kink, taking pics during ya know what (w/ consent ofc), mentions of aftercare
✩‧₊˚ requested? no!
title means “photograph” in japanese. can you tell i was listening to drive while writing this? 🤭
you think you might actually have an online shopping addiction… yet another package arrived waiting for you at the doorstep. you excitedly skip to the door and pick up the box sitting on the porch, wasting no time to run upstairs and pry it open. “oh god.. not another one,” minho face palms at your buying compulsion, “no wonder the mail lady knows you on a personal level, she’s practically here more than me!” you roll your eyes, paying zero attention to him as you greedily pull out all the new adorable plushies you purchased. you now finally have the korilakkuma plush with a pink fluffy bunny hat in your possession and you couldn’t be happier. “hush, needed this for my collection and the bun was too cute to pass up!” your voice slightly squeaks towards the end as you held the 13” plush close to your heart.
he sighs, there’s absolutely no hope in getting you to stop it’s just something he’s going to have to deal with. he always teases you for buying the most random items, anything remotely interesting or another cute ad from tiktok you’d buy it blindly only to have most of it collect dust on your shelves or closet. minho was starkly different than you, he was much more conscious of the things he bought — unless it came to accessories for his cats or expensive ingredients he tries in advancing his cooking skills. he was a humble minimalist while you needed to have everything under the sun. he secretly adored the way your face would light up at the ring of the doorbell every time to alert you had a new package; he knew you loved him before anything but your obsession with online shopping was running a very close second.
“what do you do with all these plushies anyways? they can’t talk, can’t make you food, send daily cat pics, or even make you feel as good as i do. i don’t get the hype!” minho sounded so bitter, it was probably because you were giving the plushies more attention than him. “awwh, is my wittle baby getting jealous of some stuffies?” you tease, giggling at him feeling fake betrayed. “why would i be jealous of inanimate objects? don’t use that baby tone on me, only i can do that to you!” he hissed, giving you piercing glare. “shh, don’t say that, they’re listening!” you gasp while covering the plushie’s ears at his insult, you really treated all of them like your babies. “it’s nice you care more about them than your breathing and alive boyfriend right in front of you but i guess that’s okay.” he mutters sarcastically. was he actually mad at you? you really couldn’t tell at this point.
minho had a peculiar sense of humor in which sometimes you couldn’t detect if he was actually joking or not, he’d say things with the straightest face and you’d sit there pondering his intention. he still held a calm demeanor but his words seemed to affect you more than usual. why were you getting so worked up right now? “a-are you mad? did i do something wrong..?” you whine, lowering your head trying not to look at him. “what? no. just messing around petal, you know i like to play.” he chuckles, resting his hand under your chin to perch your head up, “look at me when i talk to you.” he orders sternly, forcing to make eye contact with him as you press your thighs together underneath the pleated tennis skirt you wore. you had no words left to say but before you could utter anything his lips shape into a mischievous smirk, “how ‘bout i pump a few kids in you while you hold onto the precious bun for dear life? sound good?”
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
he was right when he said you’d need to hold on for dear life, you suffocated the poor plushy as you whimpered and cry out to him. “m-minho— can’t- can’t take more, please- t-too much!” you struggle to conjure up words but his pace still won’t let up. eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he sends more deep thrusts your way, holding your leg up high in the air. what a stunning sight under him, your gorgeous body splayed under the bed in this lewd position all for him; keeping only the tennis skirt and ruffle trim socks you wore upon his request. “what’s that petal? said you want more?” he coos, producing harsher strokes, feeling the heat inside rush to your core, squeezing the plush bun while your face contorts. his veiny hand cascades your whole body, ending up on your tummy to lock you steady in place. you really are the prettiest thing to him.
the acceleration of his hips driving into you almost brought tears to your eyes but you put your big girl pants on and suck it up, you wanted to prove to minho that you were his good girl. “mmm.. so perfect for me petal, such a good girl for taking all of me so beautifully.” he husks, sending comforting praises “you’ll be rewarded well for this kitten.” his expression goes from focused to being engrossed by something else. his cell phone??? you watch in bemusement as he picks it up to unlock it with face ID, still never slowing down his speed. minho proceeds to open the camera application, pointing the phone towards you, you attempt to shy away but he gets upset by this. “no don’t move, you look too cute right now, i need to capture this forever. can i?” you nod, it was kind of him to ask but you’d do anything he says anyway. he snaps a couple quick shots of you before tossing his phone to the side, those pics will definitely come in handy on the days he can’t have you.
minho never left you with empty promises, he kept his word and milked every last drop he had, painting his own pretty picture in you. his body collapsed on top of yours, catching a moment to breathe while caressing the apex of your stained inner thighs. trailing lazy kisses down your neck as he praises how good you were for him. his sweet voice is like a melody to your ears, a total sucker for the way he treats you after being in dom mode. “let me go run you a bath, i’ll get you all nice and cleaned up petal.” he pats your thigh before getting up. a warm bubble bath was much deserved, you were in desperate need to soak your aching body. you didn’t even notice that you still had the plushy in your hands, surprised you committed to it for so long. you were excited to take your bath but knowing minho’s stamina… this may just be another excuse for a round 2.
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welcometomyoasis · 4 months
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Seventeen as life's comforting moments
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Synopsis: what comforting moments the seventeen members remind me of no pairing | fluff, comfort | approx. 2.4k words | warnings: mental heath, insecurities A/n: because svt brought me so much comfort this past year, here's a little headcanon. i'm wishing everyone a good year ahead ❤️
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🍒 Seungcheol - spending quality time with people you care about
Seungcheol is the type of person who really treasures those who care close to him. He shows his appreciation to them in different ways by giving them gifts, like Jeonghan’s Dyson airwrap, or telling them how much he cares for them. But I feel like one major way he shows his love and appreciation is just to spend quality time with them. They don’t have to be doing something fun. They don’t even need to be engaged in some deep, emotional conversation. The time spent together could simply be a quiet day at home spent in comfortable silence. It’s all about spending time in each other’s presence and taking that in. Time is precious. Especially amid the hustle and bustle of life, being able to carve out time shows just how much the other person means to you. It means that they are a priority in your life, and vice versa. Seungcheol encapsulates those moments of love.  
😇 Jeonghan - watching the sunset 
Perhaps this is me projecting because Jeonghan is one of my comfort people? One of my favourite quotes is “Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise again” from Les Miserables. I know the quote is more of a sunrise, but to me, sunsets signal the end of a hard day. You haven’t exactly gotten over the intense emotions yet, everything still feels very raw. All the emotions like anxiety or sadness washes over you. But as you see the sunset, you just know that at least for now, the day is over. There’s a certain peace of mind that comes with that thought, and I would view Jeonghan as that. He’s such a silent pillar of support for the members. They can go to him with any problems and he will gladly lend a listening ear. Sure, the problems might remain and the emotions are heightened, but Jeonghan’s presence, empathy and willingness to listen would provide so much comfort for his members. Not unlike the feelings that come with watching the sunset, Jeonghan is that moment of emotional reprieve.
🦌 Joshua - spending time by the ocean
Joshua represents the feelings you get when you’re by the ocean. Joshua is a fun loving guy, and playing by the ocean is certainly fun. You can play in the sand, build sandcastles, have a picnic, and you can run into the ocean only to laugh and run away when the tide comes rushing over your feet. At the heart of it all, Joshua embodies everything that is gentle. He’s like the soft breeze brushing against your face, the sounds of the tide slowly cascading onto the beach. He’s the happiness and peace that washes over you as you dip yourself into the ocean and let the waves slowly rock you back and forth. Best of all, he’s that feeling of serenity you get from just breathing in the salty ocean air as you look out onto the vast horizon. When you look out at the picturesque view, Joshua is that moment of serenity that comes to soothe your aching body and soul.
🐱 Junhui - snuggling under a blanket to take a nap
Junhui has a certain air of innocence around him, something I would associate with the innocence of childhood. The feeling of curiosity that made you want to grow up. It’s just that when you do, that innocence goes away. You become tired and drained from being busy all the time and having way too many responsibilities. At least when it gets too much, you can take a nap right? It’s a luxury. But there’s just something nostalgic about being able to tuck yourself under a blanket to take a nap. Feeling the weight of the blanket, letting the warmth completely envelop you as you slowly drift off. It’s not that you feel childish from taking a nap, nor is it childish in the first place for wanting to take a rest. It’s about that nostalgic feeling that makes you long for the time when you were younger and hadn’t dealt with what life had thrown at you. Napping makes you feel like an innocent kid again within your own little bubble away from the harshness of life. In that sense, Junhui represents the moments that heal your inner child. 
🐯 Hoshi - feeling passionate or excited about something
If there is one thing about Hoshi, you can never doubt the amount of passion he has. It doesn’t matter what that passion is directed at, he never seems to run out of it. Be it his passion for dancing, his members, tigers or even his passion for throwing Mingyu under the bus during the mafia game. I also wouldn’t say that it’s simply when you allow yourself to get caught up in the moment. Passion is more complex than that. Feeling passionate about something, someone. It’s a feeling that excites you and it’s that feeling drives you forward to pursue whatever and whoever it is that is at the center of it. It doesn’t just make you feel alive, it makes you feel that life is worth living. It allows you to turn that passion into determination, strength to push forward even if you encounter any hardship. Honestly I don’t know what else to write because to me, Hoshi represents the moments when you allow your emotions to take over completely, when you allow your emotions to guide you forward. 
🐈‍⬛ Wonwoo - solo dates
We all know that Wonwoo is extremely reserved, he is an introvert who does enjoy spending time alone. Sure he loves his members, but he definitely needs time alone to recharge. Wonwoo reminds me of solo dates. When you just take yourself out. You could be engaging in your hobbies like photography. But it’s not only about that. It’s about really treating yourself to things and experiences that you enjoy. You can’t put a price on the relaxation and peace that going on solo dates brings. Of course you don’t have to spend money on your solo date either. Your solo date could be at the new restaurant you wanted to try, or at the old restaurant you are a regular at. Maybe it could be at the beach or park. You could even indulge a little and try the expensive spa treatment, or you could get the $3 McDonalds McFlurry. Ultimately, you’re doing what you want to indulge yourself. I see Wonwoo really enjoying that, so I would think that Wonwoo represents the moments when you exercise self-love and self-care.
🍚 Woozi - time spent creating
Woozi has done and created so much for seventeen. The sheer amount of creative energy that this man has is indescribable. As such, I would see Woozi as the time you can spend creating. There are no boundaries or rules for being creative. You can literally do what you want. You want to paint a picture of a cute cat, do photography, paint your nails, write a seventeen act play. Go right ahead. Sadly, no matter how inspired you are, sometimes insecurities get to you. It holds you back from creating because you don’t think it will be good enough. My question is good enough for who? It’s your work and others’ opinions should not, and do not matter. You should be proud of what you can create. Woozi would certainly share that sentiment. Because of that, I strongly stand by the opinion that Woozi would be the moment you are able to let go of your insecurities or inhibitions to create something that would definitely mean a lot to you.
⚔️ Dokyeom - genuinely laughing
I don’t just mean letting out a haha laugh or writing an lol that we often do with a relatively straight face. I’m talking about laughter that comes from our bellies. The type that makes you tear from spending so much energy being hunched over and clutching yourself. The type that physically sheds all the tension from your body. Dokyeom reminds me of that. His laughter is contagious. His smile and energy is bright. He’s not afraid to laugh or be playful. He’s naturally funny and his cheeky antics bring so much joy and laughter to us and the rest of seventeen. Dokyeom represents that ability to lose yourself in a moment of laughing at something or someone that you find hilarious. He represents the feeling of being able to just feel something other than all the complex, possibly negative emotions in life. Dokyeom is the moment when you feel alive.
🐸 Minghao - taking a walk through a trail in a forested area 
Being able to walk through a trail in a forested area is a much needed change of scenery from the stifling, chaotic cities that we live in. Minghao gives off the feeling of emotional and mental stability, something I would associate with the tranquillity of nature. Walking down a path amongst all the trees, feeling the warmth of the sunshine hit my face. Yet feeling the coolness that comes with the shade of the trees. It’s sad that we often forget how beautiful nature is, that we forget how we should appreciate and experience nature. In the same way that Minghao would close his eyes when he meditates, closing our eyes when we are surrounded by nature will help you to feel at peace with yourself and your surroundings. Listening to the sounds of the animals like the cicadas or birds, taking in the scent of pine trees or flowers. It’s not about being one with nature, it’s more about being present. Minghao is certainly that moment of learning how to be present, and more importantly, how to feel present within your surroundings. 
🐶 Mingyu - waking up early in the morning 
Not everyone is a morning person I get it. Somehow Mingyu makes me think that he’s an early riser, someone who would like to get a head start to the day. I would think of him as this time in the morning just after the sun has risen that is calm and quiet. It’s the time before the city or wherever you are gets busy. The sun casts its rays into your house, giving it the most beautiful illuminated glow. It makes your otherwise normal house look ethereal. Especially if you have the day off, that time of the day is also perfect because you get to prepare yourself for the day without the pressure of having to be prepared for anything specific. You can afford to take your time and just go around your house. You can make your breakfast, do your skincare routine, choose an outfit for the day. Or, you could just sit with a cup of coffee, tea, or whatever drink you prefer and chill out on the couch. Having that time to yourself is precious and it gives you time to prepare yourself mentally for the day. Perhaps you even anticipate getting out there. Mingyu is definitely that moment, the moment where you feel ready to take on the day no matter what it throws at you. 
🍊 Seungkwan - listening to heavy rainfall 
The sound of rain falling is soothing. The rhythmic way that it drips and splashes onto your window or the ground. Hearing the pitter patter of the rain drops while you’re inside does something to you. Perhaps it’s the melancholic feeling that the grey sky makes you feel, or perhaps it is the heavy water droplets that fall harshly to the ground. Whatever it is, it has a soothing effect, making you feel instantly calmer. It heals you. Similarly, Seungkwan has the most beautiful, soothing voice. His voice is soft, melodic. He knows how and when to regulate the tone and strength of his voice. He has the talent and ability to put different emotions into the song when it’s needed. When you hear him sing, you can’t help but give up control over your emotions. Your mood automatically shifts according to the emotions he delivers through the songs. Like the sound of the rain, listening to him relaxes you. Seungkwan is the moment you allow your heart and mind to rest. 
🐻‍❄️ Vernon - engaging in your hobbies
There are people who are quirky in the best way possible. That’s Vernon. He’s so unabashedly Vernon? The fandom jokes he’s like an alien. He likes food combinations that most people would think are weird. He wears clothes which look like they don’t match but are actually pieces from designer collections. I link this with engaging in your hobbies because everyone has different hobbies. And sometimes our hobbies would be considered weird. But it’s what we enjoy doing. It’s not about finding validation from other people, it’s about being able to be in our own little bubbles to do what we want. It’s our safe place. We engage in our hobbies not only because we think it’s fun, but it’s also an escape from life. Our hobbies, as weird as they are to others, bring us contentment and fulfilment. Everyone is weird that way, right? I would like to think that Vernon therefore represents the moments of happiness that comes with indulging in activities you enjoy. 
🦦 Chan - accomplishing little things 
Honestly, I struggled thinking of what to write for Chan. Similar to Hoshi, Chan is passionate, and similar to Woozi, Chan is creative. He’s capable of so much and he always excels at what he does. That’s why I would see Chan as the times when you are able to accomplish something. In life, there are so many expectations. We’re expected to do so many things at the same time, and we’re expected to do it well. If you can’t juggle the tasks, you’re deemed to be inefficient, incompetent. That kind of mindset really wears you down. It makes you feel like you’re not good enough when most of the time, you’re just worn down and stretched too thin. Instead, we should celebrate all of our achievements no matter how big or small it is. It reminds us that we aren’t as broken or useless as we think we are because we can do it. We can achieve things, which is why Chan’s ability to excel makes me believe that Chan is that moment when you manage to accomplish something. He’s that moment that you realise that you are definitely capable of more than you think. 
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar
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rustytrident · 1 year
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beelzebub who has obscure knowledge because he cares so much about his brothers' interests, they become his, too – or, a slight beelzebub character study at 3am because i need it and so do you.
beelzebub who can name every constellation in the night sky of all three realms, who knows both astrology and astronomy, who has read all of belphie's essays and research papers, who was there when they were written.
beelzebub who knows how to play (and cheat, and win) about every casino game, who knows how to do fast math even if he doesn't really care for it, who checks the fucking stock market every morning to see if mammon's mood will be affected by it or not.
beelzebub who knows the difference between the scent of white and red roses, who knows how to properly do your (and his) makeup, who has memorised which products are good for his complexion and how many times a day he needs to apply sunscreen, because asmo swears that the fridge light hits him as much as the sun would have in the human world.
beelzebub who can quote jane austen and poe and shakespeare and euripides from memory, who makes references from books that were destroyed with the library of alexandria, who knows about every breed of cat there is, who listens to satan explain whose fur is the thickest and whose the softest.
beelzebub who will rewatch tsl for hours, who will carry boxes upon boxes of games upstairs, who will (poorly) draw ruri from memory, who will know how to play most games levi hyperfixates on and the plot from most anime he has rambled about.
beelzebub who knows even the most bizzare of genres of music, who can taste the difference between a thousand year and a thousand and one year aged demonus, who immediately recognises the jazz song lucifer is playing when he wants to spend quality time with him but doesn't want to disturb him.
beelzebub who, if you ask him about his interests, will reply that he doesn't really have any, who will search within him for an ounce of self, who will give up after a while because he is six beings in one, and he doesn't know if there's room for one more.
beelzebub who decides that it's okay to be a mosaic of his favourite beings, who finds out that he has been carrying seven in him all along, who gazes in your – a human's – eyes and understands why she fought and why she fell and why she tried so much.
beelzebub who, in his spare time, will go in the human world to visit museums and archaeological sites and long abandoned villages, who will reminisce about when everything he just saw was once new and shining, who will retrace the steps he took aeons ago, alone this time.
beelzebub who often feels lost, who grieves and eats and grieves some more, who carries the memory of his sister because he once read that one truly stops existing when they are forgotten, yet smiles when he sees red roses and shiny coins and old books and video games and cursed records and the starry sky, who sighs into your neck right before he falls asleep and promises to never forget the way your skin feels under his.
beelzebub who, without you asking him, tells you he likes flowers and animals, who likes everything the sun touches, whose eyes glimmer when you ask him to tell you about yarrows and their meaning and their colours, who will explain in a heartbeat, just for you.
beelzebub whose self is a wounded one, a fighting one, whose self is a memory box he just keeps adding into, a scrapbook of eternity's erosion, who finds happiness in the little things, in the simple things, who binds his family together.
beelzebub who loved and loves and will love until there's nothing of him left, until he is the last one remembering, until the night sky is no longer a painting, but just an accumulation dead stars.
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star-born-mars · 3 months
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It's Okay to Have Bad Days (Jason Todd)
Author's note: this is entirely self-indulgent. I had a really bad day today and I just want someone to let me sit in their lap and cuddle me with no expectations other than that they love me. Since I am single, currently in the dorms away from anyone I feel comfortable with who give me said conforting contact, I'm using Jason Todd as a coping mechanism.
Warnings: reader has a bad day, one (1) mention of sex, use of the word 'dickhead' in response to something Dick said.
Jason frowned down at his phone, staring at your caller ID for a moment before he answered.
"Hey," he murmured. "What's up?"
For a moment, he thought it was a butt dial, but then he heard sniffles.
"Doll, everything okay?" he asked, standing from the couch to head into an empty hallway.
"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't've... this was so stupid, I'm sorry, just ignore me," you stammered, tone tense and wet with tears.
Something was wrong.
"Woah, doll, c'mon, this is me you're talking to," Jason said. "Nothing is ever stupid with you. What's going on?"
Jason heard you sniff over the line again, and he listened intently as you took a few shuddering breaths and said, "I just... I had a really bad day. Nothing specific, just, one of those days, y'know? I wanted to do something, anything, but I just... I couldn't. And my parents are on me again about everything under the sun and I just... I'm having a day."
"I get it doll, I understand. Do you want me to listen, do you want advice, or do you just want me to show up with take-out and snuggles?"
The word 'snuggles' had multiple members of his family (even if he would never call them that out loud) looking over at him with expressions varying from mild interest (Tim, who hadn't slept in over 72 hours and was likely experiencing a different plane of existence) and downright glee (Stephanie, who was going to use it as ammunition, and Dick, who was no doubt going to dig his nose into the reason behind the use of the word and push Jason's buttons).
He moves further down the hall, just in case.
"Take-out and snuggles. I just... I don't want to be alone right now," you admitted quietly. "If it's not too much trouble, I mean, like I said, it's stupid and I know that I'm being irrational and I'm being so fucking childish right now---"
"Doll, you can have bad days, it's not the end of the world. Sometimes everything is just too much. It's okay. I'm gonna order and I'll be over in half an hour?"
"Please." It's downright plaintive and so outside of your normal attitude that it has Jason's heart hurting for you.
Jason knew how you had grown up. He knew that it had impacted you more than most people would ever suspect, let alone see, but even knowing you as well as he did, sometimes the facade still fooled him. Sometimes the cracks blindsided him, nearly made him fall to his knees with the realization that, it might be in different ways, and in varying degrees, but you're fucked up, just like him.
It's probably why the two of you worked so well, but sometimes Jason still forgets.
But it's progress, you reaching out to him instead of bottling it up like you usually do, or hiding away in the shower or your room to cry your eyes out.
He's proud, actually, to be someone you feel comfortable enough to reach out to.
"Okay doll. I'm on my way, okay?"
"Okay."
"Hey, I love you."
"Love you too," you murmured, sniffling again, though you sound much better than you had when he had first picked up. There's relief somewhere in there, Jason knows.
Relief that he hadn't reinforced the dark thoughts lingering, relief that he understands just how much it sucks. Relief that he wasn't breaking the tentative trust that had been built over long nights of patching up injuries and joking about fucked up childhoods. Relief that a wall had been let down and it wasn't met with a violent siege.
"You want your usual?"
"Yes please."
"M'kay, I'll be there soon."
"Drive safe."
"Doll, it's like you've never met me," he teased.
He relished in the surprised laugh you let out, grinning (probably like a lunatic).
"Bye Jay."
"Bye, doll."
"Hot date, little wing?" Dick asked, smirking.
"Some people are capable of being in a mutually satisfying relationship without there being sex involved, Dickhead. I'm headed, don't call me unless there's an emergency where someone is dead or actively dying or the world is about to end."
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daisynik7 · 11 months
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you’re killing me with all this angst!! 😭 any possible unrequited but happy ending with Eren when you have the time and will? Or just anything fluffy really, just to put a dinosaur print bandaid on all the broken hearts 😭
🎶 You've got my heart bursting at the seams, maybe you're the boy of my dreams. 🎶
Title: Dream Boy
Pairing: jock!Eren x shy!reader
Word Count: ~3.5k
cw: unrequited crush, fluff, college au
Summary: You’ve had a crush on Eren Jaeger for a while now. He’s the captain of your university’s swim team who also happens to be a fellow engineering major, like you. For months, you’ve admired from afar, letting yourself daydream about being his girlfriend. But that’s all it is: fantasy. Until one day, when you’re invited to a beach outing with friends, and he happens to be there too. 
Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request, anon! Going with a common trope here, hope you don’t mind! I’ve always been a sucker for popular jock x shy nerd, so I hope you like this one! Also, fair warning, I have never surfed in my life, and I had to do some research on this, so major apologies if I got any of these details wrong, please don’t be mean to me LOL. Title is inspired by the song "Dream Boy" by Beach Bunny! Listen if you want to set the mood right. Divider credit to @/saradika.
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With the weather getting warmer and the sun shining brighter, a trip to the beach sounds like the perfect idea to get away. Midterms just ended and finals are fast approaching in a few weeks. This is the only weekend when it makes sense to relax before you have to start the grind once more.  
It’s your roommate, Sasha, who originally plans this little weekend getaway. When you’re not too busy studying, you’re hanging out with her. She’s become your closest friend since you first lived with her freshman year, always friendly and making the effort to include you in all her social affairs, even when you decline so often. Through her, you met Mikasa and Annie, who have been nothing but kind to you, despite having strong personalities. You’re excited to get to know them even better by going on this trip with them.
With Annie’s car packed with all of your belongings, the four of you set out on the hour-long journey. Mikasa offered her parent’s beach house to stay at which works out perfectly for broke college students. Using your meal plans, you collectively purchased enough snacks and beverages to last the next two nights. So far, everything is working out swimmingly. 
You arrive to your destination, stoked to be spending the weekend with the beach as your backyard. Mikasa points out the other car parked in the driveway, groaning. “Oh no. Eren’s here. And he probably brought the rest of the boys.”
Sasha turns to face her. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“That’s his car. And those are their surfboards on the rack. They’re definitely here.”
Your roommate directs her question at you. “Are you okay with this?”
You smile, a little taken aback that you’ll be sharing a home with a few strangers, but fine overall. “Yeah, should be fun. By the way, who’s Eren?”
“Eren Jaeger, my brother.”
Upon hearing his full name, you do your best to swallow the strangled noise in your throat, playing it cool. Eren Jaeger? Captain of the school’s swim team? Fellow engineering student and your classmate for two of your current courses, three last semester? The guy you’ve had the hugest crush on since you first laid eyes on him freshmen year, when you used to live a floor above him? That Eren Jaeger? 
“Oh, cool,” you say, totally not meaning it. Still, you have to keep your composure. Knowing this information has you feeling self-conscious. You didn’t pack your best clothes, under the impression this was just a girl’s trip. And you realize that he might see you in your swimsuit, which you’re horrified about. Internally, you’re freaking out, unprepared for this recent development. You contemplate calling a taxi, faking an illness to avoid any possible embarrassment you’ll display in front of him. Before you can, Sasha drags you into the house, both your bags in hand, announcing your arrival. “Eren! We know you’re in here!”
Mikasa and Annie follow, carrying the rest of the luggage with them, inspecting the house. “Hey, Jaeger. Get out here,” Annie demands.
He strolls in from one of the hallways, hair down, in a white t-shirt and basketball shorts, slides on his feet. Looking as cool and attractive as ever. You hide behind Sasha, cheeks already hot. 
“What are you doing here?” he asks Mikasa, placing a hair tie between his lips, fingers running through his hair to put it up in a ponytail. 
“Carla and Grisha said I could use the house for the weekend. What are you doing here?”
“Brought the boys to surf and chill. I guess I should have asked Mom and Dad first.” He shrugs, unfazed.
Mikasa rolls her eyes. “You should have told me you were coming. I have guests.”
He glances at the rest of you. “So? It’s just Sasha and Annie. What’s the big deal?”
“My roommate’s here too!” Sasha mentions, stepping aside to reveal you. “And it’s weird sharing a house with boys!” 
You give him a small wave, a weak grin on your face. “Hello.”
He steps towards you, squinting as if he’s studying you carefully. “Hey! It’s you!”
You blurt out a confused, “Huh?”
He says your full name, shocking you further, before he continues. “You’re in my class. Physics and Materials Science, right?”
You’re surprised that he recognizes you, that he even knows your name. Up until this point, you were convinced that you were invisible to him. You nod, momentarily speechless when he smiles at you. “I’m sorry for showing up like this. We can leave if you want us to.”
“Yeah, maybe you should,” Annie comments, crossing her arms over her chest. 
Before anyone else can speak, you say, “It’s okay. You don’t have to leave.” If you’re going to grow up and move on from this crush, you can’t chicken out on things like this. And besides, you don’t want to be the one person who ruins all the fun. 
“Are you sure? It’s not a big deal. It’s just an hour drive. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine. The more the merrier, right?”
He grins. “As long as you’re okay with this.”
Mikasa, on the other hand, says, “Well, what if I’m not okay with this.”
“Fine. Then you be the one to kick out Jean. He was really looking forward to surfing today.” At the mention of that name, Mikasa blushes, not responding. The rest of you girls have an idea about Mikasa’s crush on Jean, so it’s not surprising when she doesn’t pester Eren anymore. Even Annie’s eyes light up when Armin comes out of one of the rooms, greeting you. 
After settling in, everyone gathers in the living room, planning what to do next. Collectively, you agree to head outside to relax on the beach while the boys surf. You try to contain your excitement at seeing Eren in a skin-tight body suit, holding onto the giant board, hair tied in a messy bun like a male model for Billabong. 
You lay towels and blankets all around the sand, setting up umbrellas to block out the blistering sun. Annie dumps all the snacks in the middle, while the four of you stretch out comfortably. You hide yourself under a towel, self-conscious about in a bathing suit in front of Eren, who probably doesn’t notice anyways. 
Sasha plays music on her Bluetooth speaker while you and Mikasa open your books, reading. Annie watches a movie on her phone, headphones plugged in. An hour later, Eren comes running up from the shore, dripping with ocean water, hair matted, still gorgeous. He glances at you first, flashing his brilliant smile. “Hey, do you want to try?” He knocks his fist against the surfboard, waiting for your answer.
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be good at it. In fact, I think I’ll be very, very bad at it,” you admit.
“It’s okay. I can just show you how to sit on it. We won’t actually ride the big waves. You know how to swim, right?”
You nod, placing your book in your bag. This is too good of an opportunity to pass up, especially since it means quality time with him. However, you can’t help but feel nervous, expecting to make a fool of yourself. Sasha encourages you. “You should go try it! It’ll be fun.”
Mikasa adds, “Yeah, Eren is surprisingly a good teacher.”
Convinced, you stand up, hesitantly letting the towel fall to expose yourself in your swimsuit. You avoid his gaze, too flustered worrying about what he thinks of you. He leads the way to the shore, you following close behind him. The rest of the guys sit on the sand next to their boards, chatting. When they see you, they wave, giving you some motivating thumbs up. 
Eren turns to face you, pausing. “First, you have to attach the leash.” He squats down, hands near your foot, peering up at you. “Do you mind?”
Unaware of what the leash even is, you remain calm, trying to ignore your excitement with him this close to your bare skin. “Go ahead.”
He wraps the Velcro around your ankle, fingers brushing against you delicately. He readjusts it three times, asking on the third, “Is this too tight?”
“No,” you answer, still staring out towards the sea, unable to meet his gaze.
He stands back up to explain the basics of surfing. It’s all too much to retain in a short amount of time, but you listen and appreciate how well he describes each step, memorizing the most important details. 
“We should practice getting on the board first before we enter,” he suggests, placing it flat on the sand, beckoning you to get on it. “Just lay on it, face down, and get used to how it feels against your body.” You get down, pressing your stomach to the deck, gripping to the sides. 
“Good job.” He squats again, level with you. “Once we’re in the water, you’re gonna want to move fast. You have to push the board forward against the force of the waves, then quickly hop on. It might be a little tough, but I know you can do it. The waves are strong, so if you can’t get the timing right, make sure you lift your board up with the peak and hold on tight, so that you don’t get dragged with it.”
You nod, getting increasingly anxious. With the information locked in your brain, you follow Eren into the ocean, board floating steadily on the surface, your hand on the center. He isn’t exaggerating; the waves are intense, even the tiny ones close to shore. Once you are waist deep, Eren, who’s farther away from you now, turns up the volume of his voice louder, cupping one hand around his mouth, the other pointing to the incoming wave. “It’s coming!”
It approaches fast, almost too quickly. Before you know it, the force drags you backwards, falling in. Wet from head to toe now, you resurface, grabbing the board to reposition yourself, grasping both the tail and the deck, remembering his instructions from earlier. 
“Are you okay?” he yells out, concerned.
“Yeah!” you respond, preparing for the next one. With more determination and confidence, you push forward, hopping on successfully when the wave rushes in. 
“Great job!” he exclaims from behind you. Your chest swells with adrenaline and pride. There’s no time to waste as the next wave approaches. The next task is to straddle. You get in a push-up pose, grasping the side rails. It’s not enough though; it slides out from under you, knocking you back, a stream of salty water flushing your nose causing you to choke momentarily. Eren ruses over as fast as he can, waddling in the water, worried. “Are you okay?”
You laugh, an electrifying buzz coursing through your body. “Yeah! Let me try again.”
He smiles brightly, amused by your resolve. “Okay. Hold on really tight and make sure to slide the board slightly forward as you sit up.”
It takes you a couple more tries, salt water now burning your nose and throat, until you finally manage to straddle the board. You raise your fists in the air, turning your neck to face him. “I did it!”
Beaming, mimicking your celebratory gesture, he happily yells, “You did!” When the waves come, you and the board flow with it, bobbing up and down on the water. After minutes of struggling, covered in sweat, dripping with ocean water, you finally feel at peace. You enjoy riding a few more waves, dehydration slowly sinking in, surely from all the salt you’ve unintentionally swallowed. You glance at Eren, who’s watching you from a short distance away. “I think I’m good for the day! I need some water.”
He walks over, standing next to you. “Oh yeah, definitely. Great job, by the way. That was awesome seeing you like that.” He pats you gently on your knee, grinning. 
You giggle. “Thank you. So, uh, how do I get off this thing?”
“Well, this is going to the last thing I teach you, okay? You’re going to paddle out and towards the shore. Think you can do it?”
With whatever leftover determination you have, you nod, leaning your chest down to the board. He helps you readjust yourself so that you’re facing the sands. “The wave is coming! Get ready to paddle!”
Like a dog trying to swim, you flail your arms as if your life depends on it, successfully riding the wave until it comes to a stop on the shore. Armin, Connie, and Jean, witnessing this still sat in the same spot, cheer. When you stand up, your equilibrium is all off, losing balance. Luckily, Eren runs up to catch you, steadying you. “That was awesome. You did so good!”
Catching your breath, tired from all the physical exertion and adrenaline, you breathe out, “Thank you,” giving him a weak smile. The two of you walk to the rest of your friends, Eren’s hand on your back, in case you lose balance again. As you approach the girls, they applaud, beaming with joy. 
“That was epic!” Sasha exclaims, handing you a water bottle. 
Suddenly, he’s gripping your shoulders, squeezing affectionately. “She’s the best. Never gave up, totally committed.” He turns his head to look at you, voice lower, speaking directly to you. “You were really great out there. I mean it. I never doubted you for a second. You’re the smartest person in class, so I knew this would be a piece of cake for you.”  
His last statement almost leaves you speechless. Voice trembling from exhaustion and his kind words, you reply, “Thank you. You’re a really great teacher.”
He gazes at you, seemingly forever, sliding his hands down to your elbows, lingering for just a moment longer until he lets you go. Clearing his throat, he announces, “I’m going to catch a few more waves with the guys. I’ll see y’all later.” Is it your imagination or is there a slight blush on his cheeks? It’s most likely from the sun, so you disregard it, not wanting to get your hopes up. 
You spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing beside your friends, like you had originally planned. The novel you started earlier is open in your hands, your mind definitely not focused on the words. Instead, you daydream about Eren, relishing what just occurred. All those times in class, fantasizing about different scenarios with him, always convinced that nothing would ever happen. Now, you can’t help letting your imagination run rampant. Still, when you all pack up to take the short trip back to the house, you let those fantasies disappear. There’s no way he feels anything for you beyond friendship. And you’ll just have to live with that. 
Later in the night, with everyone sun-kissed and clean from beach residue, you collectively decide to get cozy in your pajamas. Mikasa ignites the fire pit out on the balcony, perfect for the cool breeze. When four boxes of pizza are delivered, the eight of you huddle around the flames, enjoying the meal as you laugh at the stories being shared. Connie tells a hilarious tale about him and Jean streaking in the dead of night for a dare that resulting in almost exposing themselves to the university’s president. Annie mentions her roommate, Hitch, and how she slapped a creeper at a frat party, who wouldn’t stop annoying her. Sasha asks for advice on how to approach her crush, Nicolo, the young chef at the campus cafeteria who makes her breakfast burritos especially tasty. 
After a while, Eren suggests, “How about some s’mores? I brought the ingredients to make them. What do you say?”
Everyone hums in agreement. He directs his attention to you. “Can you help me in the kitchen?”
You obliged, surprised that he chose you specifically. Following him, you slide the door closed, quiet inside the house except for the muffled voices of your friends outside. In the kitchen, he reaches up for one of the cabinets, grabbing two bags of marshmallows, two big bricks of chocolate, and a box of graham crackers. In another drawer, he retrieves metal sticks to roast the marshmallows. In the meantime, you search for a large baking tray, eventually retrieving it from the oven. “Maybe we can set everything up on here so that It’s easier.”
He smiles at you. “Good idea.”
At the counter, you start unwrapping the chocolate, breaking them into sectioned pieces. Eren does the same with the graham crackers, the two of you working beside each other in a comfortable silence. Halfway through, he asks, “Did you have fun today?”
“Yeah, I had a lot of fun! Thank you again. I really had a blast.”
“I did too. It was a lot of fun hanging out with you today.”
“Maybe next time, I can actually learn how to surf for real,” you say, not thinking anything of it. 
He leans closer to you, arm brushing yours as you lay out the chocolate on the pan. “Yeah, next time.”
It’s silent again. You finish the chocolate, washing your hands clean to move on to the marshmallows. One bag in your hand, the other in Eren’s. “So, um, do you have a boyfriend or something?”
This catches you off guard. “No, I don’t.”
“Cool, cool, cool. I’m single too. In case you were wondering.” You’ve never heard this type of nervous energy in his voice before. It’s unusual to hear him like this. You’re unsure how to respond, unprepared for where this conversation is possibly heading. 
“Well, if you ever need someone to study with, I’m always available. The season is over, and I get tired of my teammates sometimes,” he says with a laugh.
“Do you want to study with me?” you ask, genuinely curious.
“I’d like to do a lot of things with you, actually.” There’s an undeniable blush on his cheeks as he pours the remaining marshmallows onto the tray. This can’t be just a sunburn, can it? 
Butterflies flutter in your belly. You look at him, smiling. You can’t chicken out now. Not when he’s giving you this chance, this opportunity. You need to go for it. “Can I be honest with you?”
He faces you, eager. “Of course.”
Sucking in a deep breath for this leap of faith, you confess. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since freshman year.”
His smile widens, brilliant teeth on display. “What? When we used to live at Reiss?”
“You remember?” Your mouth hangs open, shocked that he recalls living in the same dorm as you. 
“Yeah, I do,” he answers. “You’re a hard one to forget.”
“I thought I was invisible.”
He shifts closer, tipping his head to meet your eyes. “Not to me.”
You face him, understanding that he’s always noticed you. He leans forward, lips inches from yours. “Can I be honest with you, too?” You nod, desperate to hear what he has to say.
Even closer now, lips grazing your ear, breath ticklish on your skin, he whispers, “I really like you. I’ve always been too nervous to do anything. I thought you’d only see me as a dumb jock.”
Immediately, you pull back, replying, “Never! I never thought that of you! I think you’re so smart.”
He laughs, eyes crinkled with admiration. “I think you’re so smart, too. And really, really cute.” 
You stare at each other for a moment, wishing this would last forever. Wanting to pinch yourself to confirm this is real. 
“Is it okay if I kiss you?” The pink hue on his cheeks gradually turns into a red.
A little too eager, you respond, “Yes!”, resulting in him giggling again, pressing his forehead to yours. The contact sets your skin on fire, body tingling with a different type of adrenaline than from earlier. With your eyes shut, you close the gap, lips brushing seamlessly into a delicate kiss. His hand slides behind your neck, sending you shivers as he pulls you in closer.
Suddenly, there’s loud banging on the sliding door, startling you two apart. Mikasa and Annie have their fists on the glass, yelling out something incoherent, Armin tugging on their sleeves in an attempt to stop them. Connie, Jean, and Sasha holler with huge grins on their faces. 
Eren laughs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you respond, smiling at him. 
You gaze at each other for another couple of seconds, cherishing this special moment before returning outside to your friends, carrying the goods. They all talk at once, hyped about what they just witnessed, berating you with loads of questions and advice. You and Eren sit beside each other, politely redirecting each inquiry and comment until your friends get tired of non-answers, eventually changing the subject. He lays out a warm blanket for the both of you, legs covered, knees touching while everyone begins to roast their marshmallows.
By the time the s’mores are completely assembled, mouths sticky and full of ooey-gooey sweetness, you and Eren munch on your treats happily, holding hands beneath the blanket. 
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