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#dyed my hair today and now I can’t go my my watch
iammb · 8 months
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will never forget the time I bought a new watch strap and asked the guy in the shop what it can withstand, and he looks directly at my pink hair and goes “it does fine with water, but take it off when you, say, dye your hair.” like. why did he have to call me out like that
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yangkitties · 2 months
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giving them flowers ✩ skz
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pairing: ot8 x gn!reader || word count: 1.7k genre: 100% fluff 🫶 || warnings: none, vaguely proofread 😁 synopsis: skz when you give them flowers out of the blue! note: i am so sorry for taking so long with this post, i js got so caught up in so many things 😭 anyways i hope y'all enjoy it <3<3 also abby i hope you're happy its finally out, now plz get out of my walls 😘
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Chan: 
cries a little for sure 
the ‘for me? rlly? rlly? rlly?’ kinda guy
kisses you so much like for real
takes the BEST care of the flowers, they survive for a whole two weeks somehow 
even dries and presses them after they wilt and frames them <3 
Disbelief washed over Chan’s face, his brain slowly processing what had just happened. He slowly drunk in the fact that you had brought him a bouquet of flowers, just because you could. 
He watched silently as you presented the flowers to him him. Gingerly taking them from your hands, he observes in awe at the multitude of colours. 
‘Are these really for me?’ He looks up at you with glossy eyes, head tilting to the side. You can only giggle, adoring his cute habits. You lean in to place a chaste kiss on his forehead, your actions speaking more than an essay of reassuring words ever could have.
‘I was walking back home and the bouquet reminded me of you.  I had to get it, it would be a crime if I didn’t.’ 
The simple action warmed Chan’s heart, love and affection coursing through his veins. He hugged you suddenly, nuzzling his head into your neck. You smiled into his hair, enjoying the contact. 
‘I love you, so dearly.’
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Minho
dying and crying and wailing on the inside 
he’s so damn grateful, he rlly can’t believe someone loves him like this 
will not admit it, but tears up like 100% 
‘thank you baby, but you’re prettier’ manages to pull an uno reverse and fluster you 😁 
looks at them fondly from the couch
Usually when you picked him up from the airport, Minho could spot your face right from the get go. But today, all he could see was a large bouquet of colourful flowers, accompanied by a sign that read ‘Lee Minho’. As he approached the sign, the flowers shifted to the side to reveal Minho’s favourite view, your smiling face. 
Giggling, he engulfs you in a tight hug. 
’So who are these for, baby?’ He examines the bouquet, observing the bright hues. 
’They’re for you silly!’ You hand him the bouquet and take his back pack from him. He stands agape, shock drawn over his sharp features. 
‘Me.. me??’ His stuttering sends you into a fit of giggles, enjoying the rare moment where you got to see your boyfriend flustered. 
Quickly regaining composure, he pulls you to his side, whispering in your ear, ’The flowers are pretty sweetheart, but they’re not as pretty as you.’ You gently slap his chest, hiding away into his jacket. 
‘Oh, shut up.’
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Changbin:
almost dies in a giggling fit 
hugs them so tight the stems almost snap off T-T 
appreciates it more than he can even tell 
picks one out and puts it behind you ears :) 
brags about it to the rest of them what an amazing partner you are
The shock etched on Changbin’s face when you reveal a bouquet to him sends you into a small fit of giggles. Accepting the flowers delicately, he marvels at the colours and types of flowers. 
He smiles, pulling you into a hug. He squeezes, tighter and tighter, afraid his love for you might explode out of him. He whispers, softly against your ear, 
‘I love them so much. So so so much.’ He hugs you tighter, and suddenly, snap. The sharp crunch of the stem of one of the flowers breaking cuts through the confession, startling the both of you. 
‘Oh no… oh man.’ You cautiously examine the bouquet, worried it might fall apart. Changbin quickly identifies the broken flower, carefully picking it out of the bouquet. 
‘Don’t worry baby, now I can do this.’ He deftly tucks the flower behind your ear, brushing away the hair on your face. He admires your face quietly, enjoying the fact that your cheeks are almost as pink as the flower. 
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Hyunjin
bawls. a lot. like uncontrollably 👍 bros a bit emosh if you will 
babbles a million thank yous while kissing you 
paints them so he can keep them forever!!
like chan he dries and presses them and makes a pretty craft work with it:) 
makes you a better bouquet in return
When you sent flowers over to Hyunjin’s apartment, you really hoped he’d enjoy them. You knew how much he loved them, and when you saw the most delightfully beautiful bouquet of flowers, you knew you had to buy it for him. 
When you received a photo of the bouquet with the text ‘they’re perfect’, you knew your job was done. 
What you didn’t expect when you returned to the apartment was a painting of the exact bouquet you had given him. In the short time you were away, Hyunjin had managed to set the flowers in a vase and capture their exact likeness on a new canvas. 
‘It’s the prettiest bouquet I’ve ever seen. I just think its beauty should be appreciated forever.’ He smiles simply as he walks over to you, long hands circling your waist. 
He places a chaste kiss against your ear before whispering, 
‘And so should yours.’ 
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Jisung
jumping with joy !!
he’s twirling around the room really, he loves them so damn much 
also brags to the members, definitely the happiest of them all 
almost kills them within the first two days but miraculously keeps them alive for a whole week 
smiles until his face hurts every time he sees them 🥰
The pure joy on Jisung’s face was enough to compensate for all the struggles you had to deal with to get a bouquet of flowers for him. 
You watched him as he twirled around the room, practically bouncing off the walls in happiness. The little pink tulips bounced along with him as he ran to you. 
‘THANK YOUUU!!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!’ He screeches into your ears, giving you a soul crushing hug. 
But it’s worth it. The near deafness, cracked ribs, and painfully happy grin on your face, becomes insignificant when you watch the gleaming smile on his face as he prances around the room, bursting with bliss. 
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Felix
So cute and lovely about it, thanking you continuously !!
Takes like. 1 million pictures. 
Giggles like a school girl because the note says ‘sunshines for my sunshine’ 
Gets you a bouquet of your favourite flowers that very evening 
Now it’s a competition and you keep getting each other bouquets… until the house starts attracting bees so you have to give them all away ☹️
When you heard about Felix bagging another modelling gig, you knew the perfect congratulatory gift would be a bouquet of white lilies. And as expected he loved them. He took about a million photos and gave you a million more kisses.
But what you didn’t expect was that when you got your big promotion, he would gift you with a bouquet of white tulips. Eventually, this started happening back and forth, each of you getting more and more extravagant bouquets for the other. It soon evolved into a symbol of affection and pride, the both of you showering each other in bouquets. 
Sometimes it would be for actual reasons, and other times it was just because you wanted to. Staring at the umpteenth bouquet of the month, you swear your house had no more vases for it. 
‘Lixxie… baby I think we’re all out of vases…’ You exclaim as he laughs, shocked at your behaviour. 
‘Well, I just thinks we love each other so much more than what we can handle.’ He smiles at you, radiant as always.
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Seungmin
dies. like. he really thinks he’s died and gone to heaven when he sees the bouquet 
so quiet you think he doesn’t like them, but is quick to reassure you 
bros like so damn speechless until you begin to start apologising and suddenly he can’t shut up 
literally will not stop rambling about how grateful he is for them and how much he loves you until you kiss him 
his ears are as red as the roses man he’s so down bad <3 
When you showed up at the restaurant with flowers for him, Seungmin knew he would do nothing short of everything to keep you his. 
With your dazzling smile, and honey sweet voice, you told him that the flowers for him, and in that moment his brain short circuited. A spiral of thoughts danced around his head, almost as chaotic as the butterflies in his stomach. The keyword was almost, because he was pretty sure the butterflies in his stomach had done cocaine. 
He watched your smile morph into a frown, lips curling downwards. 
‘Oh… do you not like them? Oh my god wait, are you allergic? Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!!’ You frantically tried to remove the bouquet from beside him, afraid of triggering an allergic reaction. Your actions were quickly halted by Seungmin’s slider fingers around your wrist, eyes wide. 
‘NO! No, no I mean no. I love them. SO much… I just. I love them so much I don’t know what to say.’ He smiles softly before taking your hands in his, holding them gently. 
‘I love them, but I definitely don’t love them more than I love you.’ 
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Jeongin
becomes a tomato !
bros FLABBERGASTED! giggles and kicks his feet and my god is he blushing
kisses your cheeks a lot he just loves them very much :D 
almost accidentally undoes the bouquet while arranging it, thank god you’re there to help him- 
now he expects one bouquet per week or he WILL pout and whine 😁👍
When Jeongin opens the door after hearing the bell, he expects to see your smiling figure, wearing a stolen hoodie and a bright smile.
Instead, he’s greeted with the sight of the most wonderful bouquet of flowers, a burst of almost every colour in the rainbow. Purples and yellows accompanied by splashes of pink and red greet him, as he gapes in shock, awestricken at the sight before him. 
‘Hi Innie! Are you gonna let me in or am I going to have to stay here the whole day?’ Your voice piques from behind the flowers. 
‘Oh god, yes, come in.. baby, are these.. for me?’ He questions awkwardly, shuffling around to let you in. He takes the flowers from you as you reach up to kiss his cheeks. 
‘Well yes silly, who else am I going to get flowers for?’ You laugh at his stunned face, ears almost as red as the flowers in the bouquet. 
You carefully take the flowers back from him, looking for a vase to place them in. You adore the way he follows you like a lost puppy, smiling fondly at the bouquet in your hands. 
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©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost
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eiightysixbaby · 1 year
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sunscreen and chlorine
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word count: 3.5k
pairing: lifeguard!eddie x fem!reader
summary: things get steamy during an unbearably hot day at the hawkins pool.
cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - SMUT. oral (m receiving), sexual innuendos with a popsicle, sex in a public place, unprotected p in v, creampie, billy is mentioned in this lol. lmk if i forgot any!
author’s note: lifeguard!eddie has been invading my brain for days so here, have this.
It was hot. So, so unbelievably hot. The kind of heat where you step outside and feel like you can’t breathe for a second, where the air feels thick and heavy and sweat clings to your skin relentlessly. There was no breeze, none at all, just stagnant heat lingering. Naturally, just about everyone in Hawkins was at the community pool, dying for a way to cool down. Bare feet walking on hot pavement, vibrant swimsuits almost blinding in the sun. Brightly colored beach balls being tossed around in the water as screams and splashes rang out. Eddie sat perched in his lifeguard chair, bright red swim trunks covering his bottom half, stopping a little bit above his knees. A black tank top rested on his torso, clinging tight to modest muscles. Even in the blistering summer, Eddie wasn’t one to parade around with his shirt off. Much unlike Billy, who would take any chance he could get to be wearing as little clothing as possible, showing off his biceps to the suburban mothers who’d fawn over him. Bored women who married boring men that they felt close to nothing for, all for the sake of having that nuclear family, now dying to relive their teenage years. Eddie would occasionally throw scandalous remarks their way when they’d whistle at him, but for the most part he didn’t bite.
Eddie was honest to god sweltering, to put it lightly. The shade from the umbrella attached to the chair provided little comfort for him, but at least it kept most of his skin from receiving direct sun exposure. He’d already applied sunscreen several times, rubbing the white cream all over just to sweat it off a half hour later, and then repeat the process. His pale skin was unforgiving in the summer months, quick to turn an angry red if Eddie wasn’t careful about being in the sun. There’d been one too many occasions where he’d sat perched on the kitchen counter after hot summer days, Wayne rubbing aloe on his stinging skin. Sometimes Eddie isn’t sure why he chose to have a job that required him to be exposed to the elements so often, but hey, it pays the bills.
He peered through his sunglasses at all of the patrons in the pool, wishing he could feel the cool water on himself. His hair was pulled back into a low bun, keeping the heavy curls from making his neck too warm. He kept himself occupied any way he could, blowing his whistle at kids who insisted on running around the pool grounds despite several signs warning not to, laughing to himself when they’d slow to a walk, staring up at him with guilty eyes. Sat high on his perch, his eyes scanned over the various suspects down below - teenage girls sprawled out on towels, pretending like they weren’t absolutely miserable in the sun as they tanned their skin, Jason Carver walking towards the pool with Chrissy Cunningham over his shoulders, laughing in protest about the water being too cold, Billy flirting excessively with anything with a pulse instead of watching the pool. Eddie huffed a sigh, for as busy a day as it was, there was very little for him to actually do. Not that he wanted to have to, you know, save somebody from drowning today or something, but he was just bored. Ninety-five percent of the town’s population had to be here today, and yet none of his friends were around to keep him entertained. He was hot, he was cranky, and he just wanted to go home and unwind. Needed to smoke a joint, maybe rub one out, and go the fuck to sleep.
After yelling at some teenager to stop dunking unsuspecting people under the water, he resumed his people watching. His whistle sat loosely in his mouth, Eddie absentmindedly fidgeting with the silver metal between his teeth, whispers of that shrill chirping sound fighting their way out of the object every time he’d exhale too hard. Pulling his sunglasses off and tucking them on top of his head, his brown eyes roamed over the grounds until they landed on you. He recognized you, remembers you from high school though you two were never close. A pretty thing - you always have been - sprawled across a lounge chair, one leg crossed over the other casually. Water droplets dried on your skin, and the ends of your hair were wet, indicating your recent swim. You had a popsicle pressed between your lips, sticky red juice melting down your hand, the heat affecting the sweet ice too fast for you to keep up with. He doesn’t fully realize how hard he’s been staring until your eyes catch his, and you cock an eyebrow at him. He feels his cheeks heat up, for once from something other than the sun, and is about to just scamper down from his chair and into a hole in the ground before you wave at him, fingers delicately wiggling his way.
He gives you a casual wave back, fully catching the smile that you try to cover with your hand. Your eyes are unwavering on his thin frame, taking in his pale skin that’s littered here and there with tattoos. Gaze pausing on the soft muscles in his arms, trailing down to the fabric of his swim trunks, bunched up just below the waistband, concealing the rest of him that you’d very much like to see. You notice that he doesn’t stop looking at you, either. Eddie shamelessly lets his eyes rake up your legs, the vibrant pink of your bathing suit complimenting the rest of you. He swears his heart almost stops when he meets your eyes again, noticing the sultry look in them as you slowly push your popsicle past your lips once more. It almost completely disappears in your mouth before you pull it out, excruciatingly slowly. You lick it from bottom to top, tongue flat against the strawberry flavored treat, eyes never leaving Eddie’s.
He feels his cock twitch slightly in his swim trunks, suddenly finding it incredibly hard to focus on doing his job. You knew what you were doing, and you weren’t about to back down from what Eddie could tell. The dense heat was getting to his head, his brain turning to mush as he watched you. Juice from the popsicle slowly trickled down your chin until you wiped it with your fingers, proceeding to stick the index and middle in your mouth, sucking the sweet syrup off. Eddie shifts in his seat, subtly adjusting the fabric of his swim trunks, trying to conceal the bulge growing beneath them. You notice the awkward movement, lips twisting into a smirk as your mouth resumes its work on your popsicle. By the time you’ve consumed the entirety of the cold treat, pulling the last bit off the stick with your teeth and letting it melt in your mouth, Eddie is uncomfortably hard. He’s pulled the bright red rescue tube that was once secured at the side of the lifeguard chair over his lap, which wouldn’t seem like a calculated maneuver to anyone except you. You know the effect you’ve had on him, and he knows you’re enjoying it. Now that you’re done putting on a little show for him, he’s not sure what to do next. Was that it? Seductively eat your popsicle for him and it’s over, resume his shift as normal? He couldn’t exactly shout across the way at you to ask for your number - or at least, he didn’t want to make an absolute buffoon of himself trying.
He didn’t have to deliberate for long before he caught you jerking your head to the side, eyes following in the direction of the changing rooms and showers. You stood slowly from your chair, making sure he got the hint, before walking towards the big blue door to the women’s changing rooms. He couldn’t help but admire the way your ass looked as you walked away from where he was perched, soft flesh peeking out around the fabric of your bathing suit bottoms. Eddie was fully aware of the fact that fooling around with you at his place of employment in the middle of his shift was probably not a wise idea, but fuck it. He couldn’t hold off any longer. Gangly legs climbed down the steps of the lifeguard post until his feet hit the pavement below, almost immediately protesting at the heat coming from the concrete. He walked quickly in the direction you had led him, pulling his shirt over his head and bunching it in front of him to conceal the horrendously obvious tent in his pants. He approached Billy who gave him a questioning look.
“Cover for me for a few, man,” Eddie said quietly, for only Billy to hear, shoving the rescue tube at the shorter man for him to take.
“What?” Billy asked, stumbling back ever so slightly as Eddie presses the red safety equipment into his chest.
“Just fucking cover for me,” his voice was firm, and he walked away before Billy could say another word. The other man huffed an annoyed sigh as he headed for the lifeguard chair.
Eddie stepped cautiously into the changing rooms, not wanting to startle any unsuspecting pool patrons, but was pleasantly surprised when the only person he found inside was you. You leaned against a wall nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair around your fingers, smiling warmly at him.
“Hey, handsome. Decided to join me?” your voice is playful as you eye him up and down.
“That little show you put on sure was something, sweetheart,” Eddie says lowly, stalking slowly towards you.
“Just wanted to get you all worked up for the real deal,” you smirk at him, and he swallows a lump in his throat.
“Give me one sec,” he says quickly, turning on his heel.
Eddie heads back towards the door, grabbing the maintenance sign that sits in the corner. It reads, ‘Sorry! Temporarily closed for cleaning. We apologize for the inconvenience. -Hawkins Community Pool Staff’. He posts it on the outside of the door, letting the heavy metal swing closed behind him. Best to cover all of his bases here, he certainly doesn’t want any kids getting scarred for life today.
“We don’t exactly want an audience, now do we?” he asks as he walks slowly back towards you.
“No, no I guess not,” you reply, index finger bent with the nail between your teeth, a nervous habit shining through your casual demeanor.
Eddie stands mere inches away from you, breath fanning your face every time he exhales. He finds it hard to contain himself, wants nothing more than to have his hands on you. He steps even closer, looking down at you, loose strands of hair falling from his bun. He discarded the shirt he’d been holding onto the floor, and you find your eyes trailing down to his crotch, the slight bulge beneath the brightly colored fabric looking ever so appealing. His big brown eyes watch you intently, searching for any signs of your discomfort.
“You sure you want this?” he asks, voice steady.
“Yeah, ‘m sure. I’ve secretly been wanting you since we were fucking eighteen, so,” you laugh lightly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Shit, you could’ve been teasing me with popsicles this whole time?” Eddie jokes, reaching his hands out and letting them gently rest on your hips.
You’re quiet, just admiring the soft freckles on his face and the warm brown of his eyes and those full pink lips. Eddie notices the way your eyes linger on his mouth, and his lips curl into a wicked grin.
“What’re you looking at me like that for, honey? Need something?” Eddie asks, teasing, his face so deliciously close to yours.
“Think I’m in serious need of mouth to mouth…” you say, trying to tease him back but your voice is breathy.
In an instant he’s swept you into a kiss. He groans softly as your hands climb up the back of his neck, tugging on his hair where it meets his scalp. His head is swirling, still fuzzy from the early July heat and now from the feel of your soft lips on his. You smell like sunscreen and chlorine, taste like artificial strawberry flavoring. Your lips are passionate yet gentle in their movements against his, and he wants to melt onto the floor for someone to mop up later. The kiss deepens rapidly before Eddie finally has to break away, the temperature in the large room growing to be unbearable. You read his mind before he can even say anything, and pull him into a shower stall, turning the water on to a comfortably cool temperature. You close the curtain behind you, and when you turn back to face him you drop to your knees, hands grabbing at the soft fabric of his swim shorts.
Eddie feels like he’s floating, like the scorching day got to his head and he’s having some weird fever dream hallucination. The feeling of your fingers ghosting over his happy trail and hooking under the waistband of his shorts brings him back down to earth. He sucks in a sharp breath as you tug the swim trunks down, his cock springing free a couple inches from your face. You’re mesmerized at the sight in front of you. He was big, longer than most you’ve seen but less thick. His cock seemed to stare you directly in the face, flushed pink tip leaking pre cum. A small patch of dark curls rested at the base, and his heavy balls hung low beneath. You lick your lips, cool water from the shower falling in small streams over his shoulders and down his chest. The smooth tile floor is hard against your knees, you’re sure they’ll be bruised and sore tomorrow. You grab the base of him, tapping the tip of his cock on your tongue a few times, looking up at him with wide doe eyes. Eddie hisses, grabbing fistfuls of your hair with his hands.
“Don’t be a tease, honey,” he growls down at you, and you look at him innocently.
“Me? Never,” you reply, taking the head of his cock in your mouth in one swift movement.
He inhales abruptly, then lets out a sigh as you slowly bob your head on his cock, adjusting to the warm feeling of your mouth. You take him as deep as you can, his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. Eddie groans in response to this, pulling tighter on your hair, silently begging for you to do it again. You oblige, letting the head of his cock abuse your throat, mouth wide open for him.
“Fuck, baby, feels so fucking good,” Eddie’s voice is deeper than before, his eyes dark as they watch your movements.
You lean down further, sucking his balls into your mouth, letting your tongue roll over the stretchy skin. He genuinely yelps, surprised at the contact, eyes squeezed shut. You smile to yourself before sucking them into your mouth once again, Eddie’s whines and whimpers echoing throughout the walls of the building. You bring a hand up to toy with his balls as you redirect your mouth’s attention to the swollen tip of his cock, practically pleading for you to take it past your lips. Eddie’s in shambles as you lick and suck his sensitive head, cleaning the salty pre cum off with your tongue. You take him fully into your mouth again without warning, eliciting moans and curses as he steadies himself with one hand on the shower wall. The contrast between the cold water hitting his back and the sticky humid air tickling the skin of his chest made his head spin, the warmth of your mouth engulfing him only adding to the varying sensations. He feels himself inching closer and closer towards release, and he abruptly grabs your chin and pulls you gently off of him.
“Can I fuck you, baby? Need to be inside that pussy,” he’s trying to maintain his composure but the words come out like a whine, like he’s desperate for you.
You nod as you look up at him, admiring the water droplets that fall from his bangs and the tip of his nose, pussy throbbing between your thighs as his cock rests inches from your face.
“Use your words, pretty thing. Tell me I can fuck you,” Eddie coaxes you, pulling you to stand in front of him
“Yes, Eddie, please. Want you to fuck me,” your eyes are pleading and it makes his cock twitch.
He wraps his arms around to your backside, signaling for you to jump. He holds you securely, back now pressed against one of the shower walls, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips are on yours instantly, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth with fervor as you whimper for him. His mouth travels down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Hot tongue licking your sticky skin, the faint taste of sweat lingering. He pushes the wet fabric of your swimsuit bottoms to the side, lining himself up with your entrance. He kisses you deeply as you feel him slide into you, stretching you open just for him, velvety walls snug around his cock. He groans into your mouth, pushing himself slowly in to the hilt, and your nails claw at his back in desperation. The stretch is so good your toes curl, your body begging and screaming for more.
“P-please, Eddie, oh my god,” you whine, Eddie’s lips now attacking your neck.
“What, honey? What do you need?” Eddie purrs, big hands squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.
“Need you to move, fuck me rough Eddie, please,” you beg him, clinging to him like a vice.
He gets his bearings on the slippery floor before rutting up into you, slick sounds of wet skin on wet skin bouncing around the shower stall. Eddie gasps as his cock fills you once more, every thrust reaching so deep, his thick fingers pressing into your smooth skin as he supports your weight. You can hear faint screams and laughter from the pool outside, and the reminder of the way no one on the outside knows what Eddie’s doing to you in here makes you dizzy with desire. Eddie’s grunting with every snap of his hips, hair frizzy and bangs sticking to his forehead, a panting mess as he fucks you like his life depends on it. You’re sure your lower back will be sore after this, every jolt to your body ramming you against the wall, but you’re too drunk on Eddie to care. The way your legs are wrapped around him opens you up for his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you, and you’re screaming his name as he pounds relentlessly into your sopping cunt.
“Yeah? Feels good, baby? You like having my cock deep inside you?” Eddie rasps into your ear, hips moving at an unforgiving pace.
The friction against your clit as his body moves against yours paired with the way his cock hits your favorite spot inside of you has you approaching your release rapidly, your body aching to let go. Eddie’s close, too, moaning out strings of curse words and praise as your walls suck him in.
“Not gonna last much longer, honey, where do you want it?” he asks breathlessly, brown eyes blown wide as they search your face.
“Inside, need it inside,” you choke the words out, so blissed out it’s hard to speak.
Eddie picks up his pace, hips stuttering as he lets himself go. You feel his cock twitch, warmth spreading inside you as he pumps you full of his cum. Your orgasm hits you the second you feel him fill you, clenching around his already spent cock, milking him for everything he’s got. Eddie presses his forehead to yours, releasing the harsh grip on your hips as he gently sets you down. Your legs tremble, cum leaking out of you and dripping down the insides of your thighs. You rinse them off with the water from the shower head, before turning it off.
“Fuck, that was hot,” Eddie pants, pulling his swim trunks up before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“When do you get off work? Maybe you could come over after,” your voice is shy as you suggest it.
“I’m the closing guard tonight, actually. Sooo… I could totally get fired for this, but if you wanted to come back here around 8pm after lock up, I could give you some, y’know, private swimming lessons,” he smirks, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.
“Count me in, baby. I think I’m gonna be needing lessons weekly, though…” you trail off, heavy lidded eyes looking at him as you twirl his hair around your fingers.
“I can work with that,” Eddie grins, pulling you into a kiss.
As the heat of the day eventually fades into a hazy nightfall, Hawkins residents slowly filing out of the pool and returning home, Eddie thinks of nothing but you. Billy almost slugged him for leaving him in charge for so long, but in Eddie’s book it was worth it. Sure enough, at 8pm on the dot, you saunter towards the gate to the pool. In your left hand was another popsicle.
Eddie was sure you’d be the death of him tonight.
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chrissturnioloshoe · 3 months
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Parents for the day - M.S
Fluff - Y/n and Matt take care of Y/n’s niece for the day for a YouTube video and become parents for the day to see who would be the better parent.
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My boyfriend, Matt, and I have decided to take care of my two year old niece for the day for a YouTube video to see what it would be like to be parents for the day. We have no interest in becoming parents any time soon but we thought it would be funny to see what we would be like at parents.
“Hey guys welcome back to my channel, today Matt and I are becoming parents for the day” I say to the camera as Matt sits besides me, my niece climbing all over him already taking a liking to him. “So this is my niece Sofia, and we’re going to be looking after her for the day to see who would be the better parent and as you can see she doesn’t really have any interest in me at all even though I’m literally her auntie” I chuckle as I watch Sofia giggle at Matt pulling funny faces at her.
“I guess she just likes me more than you Y/n” Matt chuckles making me roll my eyes playfully.
“Yeah whatever we’ll see about that” I say as I play with Sofia’s curly hair. “Okay guys so we’re gonna take Sofia to the mall but first we need to actually figure out how to get her in the car seat”
The three of us walk to Matt’s car, Matt holds Sofia in his arms as she clings onto him. Every time I try to speak to her she just looks at Matt and completely ignores me, making Matt laugh smugly.
“Sofia I was literally there when you were born I can’t believe you’re doing this to me, us girls are supposed to stick together” I say jokingly as Matt tries to fasten her into her car seat.
“How the fuck am I supposed to do this shit?” Matt says as he fiddles with Sofia’s seatbelt.
“Don’t swear in front of the child Matt” I laugh as I playfully hit his arm.
“What? It’s not like she’s going to copy me Y/n” Matt replies while still trying to fasten the seatbelt. Sofia giggles as she watches us both struggle to fasten her seatbelt. “Shit, why is this so fucking difficult?”
“Shit” Sofia giggles in her cute little baby voice, making Matt and I look at each other with wide eyes.
“Matt I told you” I say trying my hardest not to laugh. “Sofia you can’t say that, that’s a bad word Matt was being very naughty by saying that” I say as I playfully hit Matt who is dying of laughter.
“Shit, shit, shit” Sofia giggles repeatedly, making me gasp in shock and Matt to continue laughing.
“Matt look what you’ve done” I say. “My brother is going to kill me if I send his daughter back to him swearing” I giggle, trying my best to stay serious.
“It’s fine let’s just figure out how to fasten this car seat and we’ll just have to try bribe her with candy” Matt chuckles while making funny faces to Sofia, making her giggle.
“Oh yeah that sounds like a great idea Matt, swearing and a sugar rush. Absolutely fantastic” I say sarcastically as Matt playfully rolls his eyes.
We eventually figure out how to fasten the seatbelt and we begin to drive to the mall. I sit in the back with Sofia as Matt drives. I eventually got her to stop swearing and instead she’s now just repeatedly saying Matts name.
“Matt!” Sofia shouts as she points to him as he drives. I giggle as I watch her obsess over him, it’s literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
We eventually get to the mall and head inside, Matt and I hold Sofia’s hands as she walks in between us, her babbling making us giggle.
“I wonder what she’s saying?” I say as I look at Matt.
“I love Matt” Matt chuckles as he listens carefully to what Sofia was babbling on about. I roll my eyes at him and carry on walking.
“She definitely did not say that Matt” I say.
“Yeah well she’s thinking it” He chuckles making me roll my eyes once again as I let out a little laugh.
We walk into Claire’s and Sofia’s eyes immediately dart to the all the lovely pink kid jewellery which was placed out on a rack carefully. She immediately let go of our hands and ran towards it. She didn’t hesitate to pick each piece of jewellery up and throw it everywhere making Matt and I run after her to stop her.
“Sofia stop” I say as I pick up every thing she threw and try out it back nicely while Matt chased after her in the store.
“Sofia come back” I hear Matt say as he followed her through the store. I mouth a quick “sorry” to the workers as I watch them judge us, running around after Sofia not knowing what to do.
Matt eventually catches up to Sofia and grabs her in his arms. She giggles as she places her hands on either side of Matts face, pushing his cheeks together and laughing at the funny face he was making. I stop for a minute, out of breath after following Sofia and picking up everything she was throwing about.
“Jesus Christ who needs Pilates when you can just have a kid” I say out of breath. “Sofia you are such a little menace” I laugh as I boop her on the nose.
Sofia continues to push Matts cheeks together, now leaving wet salivary kisses all over his face making me laugh in disgust.
“Thanks Sofia that was absolutely disgusting” Matt laughs making me giggle.
“Come here Sofia why don’t we go pick out a little bracelet or something” I say as Matt passes her over to me. We walk back over to the place that Sofia had just previously destroyed and I put her down to let her choose a little bracelet.
Once again she picked up everything and threw on the floor making me sigh in annoyance as I pick it all up again, Matt just standing there laugh at me. But she kept one bracelet in her hand and handed it to Matt.
“You want this one Sofia?” Matt asks as he gets handed the bracelet. She nods her head and smiles. “Okay then come on” he says as he picks her up and walks to the counter to pay.
We walk out of the store and over to a candy store where we let Sofia pick out some candies. Once again she ran around the store knocking almost everything over as Matt I chased her whilst picking everything up.
“Oh my god Sofia I’m actually out of breath, you need to stop running” I say as I watch Matt feed her candies. It makes me smile watching Matt with kids, he’s so good with them. We don’t want kids anytime soon but this is literally making me have serious baby fever.
“Y/n I think she’s hungry, we should go to McDonald’s” Matt says as he picks Sofia up in his arms. I agree and we head over to the McDonald’s in the mall.
When we get there Sofia is in awe of the play are and keeps pointing at it. She keeps turning Matt’s head with her small hands so he can look at the play area.
“You wanna go in there Sofia?” Matt says as Sofia nods her head. “Babe you go order and I’ll take Sofia in the play area” Matt shouts over to me. I nod my head and go over to the counter to order.
As I’m ordering I keep looking behind me and giving little waves to Sofia as she shouts my name. I can’t help but smile to myself. Is this what it would be like to have a kid with Matt? I’m literally so full of baby fever right now, he’s just so good with kids.
Once the food is ready the three of us sit down. Matt grabs a high chair and places Sofia into it and begins to help her eat her food.
“Look at this Sofia you get a toy with your food” Matt says as he himself fascinates over the Pokémon toy you get with the happy meal. I laugh as I watch Matt and act like a little kid playing with the toy.
“You’re such a child Matt” I giggle as I eat my fries. “Sofia you want a chicken nugget?” I say as I hand her a chicken nugget.
“Thanks” Sofia says as she takes the chicken nugget out my hand and begins eating it. My heart fills with pure love as she babbles away.
“Oh my god Matt she’s so cute I literally just want to eat her” I say as I watch her just doing her thing.
We all finish our food and I begin cleaning up some of the mess Sofia made.
“Okay Sofia who do you like more me or Y/n?” Matt asks. Sofia points to Matt and grabs his finger with her tiny little hand. Matt looks at me and gives me a smug smile making me playful hit him.
“Hey!” Sofia shouts as she wags her finger in front of my face.
“I’m just joking Sofia I love him look” I say as I put my arms around Matt and give him a big kiss on the cheek. Sofia glares at me with pure jealousy in her eyes making Matt and I burst out into laughter. “Matt she’s actually obsessed with you” I giggle as Matt gives her a kiss on her forehead making her smile.
“I guess we know who’s be the better parent” Matt laughs.
“Shut up” I giggle.
The day goes on and we spend more time running around after Sofia. At the end of the day when we have to give her back to my brother and his girlfriend Sofia cried because she didn’t want to leave Matt which just made my heart melt.
“Aww Sofia we’ll come see you another day and we can have lots more fun” Matt says as he waved to Sofia.
“Yeah you can come stay at our house one night” I suggest as we say goodbye.
Just as we were about to part ways we hear Sofia shout a little “Shit!” Which made us both dart away back to Matts care before my brother could say anything to us.
“That was actually so fun” Matt says with a huge smile.
“Yeah it really was” I say.
“Sofia is so cute I actually love her so much” Matt says still smiling.
“I think she loves you a lot too” I say making us both laugh.
This was so cute wtf I loved making this. I was watching one of Tara and Jake’s old videos when they did this and it sparked the idea and in actually in love 😭
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sturniozo · 4 months
Text
Savage Love
Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU
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Summary: After a night out with her friends, Y/n wakes up in a hotel bed with a handsome stranger with no memory of the night before. Pieceing together what she can, she finds the man she woke up with wasn’t just some stranger, but the most powerful man in New York.
A/N: I’m basing all of my mafia knowledge on watching the god father when I was six and that one episode of community with the chicken fingers. Other than that I have no clue how mafia works so this might not be as good as you hope but hey I tried. Tell me if you want me to continue this though! I had fun writing it!
Masterlist
I never go out with my friends and I felt bad about it for a long time. But today, Emma convinced me to go dancing with her at a club in New York. I’ve been in the city many times, as I live just outside of it, in a small apartment above a bookshop. But the city of New York still terrifies me, especially at night. There’s a rumor of a secret organization that controls just about everything in the city, and if you cross the man at the top then you’re done for.
Of course, these are just rumors and haven’t actually been proven. I have nothing to fear, right?
Now I’m sitting in front of Emma’s vanity mirror getting ready as she does my hair.
“Oh you should totally wear it down! Curl it a bit, let it hang over your shoulders. You might hook up tonight, you never know.” Emma teases as she messes with my hair. I finish curling my lashes and then turn to her.
“I don’t think I’ll hook up at all. I’m just not the type.” I shrug and stand up, switching places with Emma as she sits in front of her vanity mirror to do her own makeup.
“Well, I am the type.” She says as she starts with contour. I walk into the bathroom and plug in the curling iron to heat it up.
“You can hook up with any guy you want.” I say to Emma. “Just make sure he wraps it. I don’t want to be an aunt so soon.” I laugh.
Emma and I have been best friends since fourth grade. She’s my polar opposite, although we have the same dreams. We’re both journalists writing for a small newspaper outlet right outside of New York.
Emma’s the type to do things we’re doing now almost every day. She always tells me about all the big parties and exclusive events and venues she’s attended. She’s talk to, and slept with, many of the biggest people in multiple industries to get information for her articles.
I take a different approach. My stories come from the smaller people. The homeless and the struggling. I try to bring attention to the lower class of America.
I bet you can guess whose stories get published. Hence why I live in a small apartment above a bookshop, and Emma has a penthouse.
“God, I know. I can’t handle having a baby now. I’m only 20 for Pete’s sake!” Emma laughs and sets down her makeup brush. She turns to me and says “But I need to sleep with someone big and important tonight. I’m dying here, I haven had a story published in almost two weeks!”
I sigh. Two weeks is nothing. Try five months. I’m basically just a consultant at this point.
Emma turns back to the mirror to finish her makeup. I check the curling iron and it’s nice and hot, so I begin to curl the ends of my hair. Just a little curly at the edge.
Emma gets up from the mirror and starts shutting off lights and electronics around her penthouse. I unplug the curling iron and walk into the front room to put on my shoes and grab my purse. Emma shut off the last light and we walk out of the penthouse. She locks the door and we get into the elevator, going down to the front desk.
Emma has an Uber waiting for us. The great thing about Emma is, no matter how much more she has than me, she always gives and never asks for any in return. It’s always been this way. She’s the sweetest friend I’ve ever had. She’s also the most ruthless journalist I’ve ever met.
We get into the Uber and the driver starts for the city. It’s a long drive, one that me and Emma use to our advantage and try to find out who’s the most important person attending the party.
“Oh my god!” Emma says after a long silence of us just looking at our phones.
“What is it, who will be there?” I ask frantically.
“Matt Sturniolo!”
I look at her, confused. “Who’s that?”
“Who’s that? WHO’S THAT? Matt Sturniolo is only the most powerful guy in New York!”
“That can’t be true, how come I’ve never heard of him?”
“Because you focus on who can help the lower class. He can’t help them, it’s not in his power.”
“Then he doesn’t have much power.”
“Oh, he has power. He has all the power. It’s his rumor that he’s the one who controls all the important somebody’s in New York. I gotta make it my mission to sleep with him. God, I bet he’s good in bed.” She says to herself.
I let out a laugh. “What story do you plan together by sleeping with him?”
“I want to know if the rumor is true, duh!” She laughs and lightly hits my shoulder.
We arrive at the venue. It’s large and the music is blaring. We step out of the car and I lean to Emma and say loudly so she can hear me over the music “The most powerful man in New York is gonna be here?” I laugh. “This doesn’t look like a scene you’d catch someone so important in.”
“Trust me, he’ll be here. Steph said so, and she’s always right!” Emma says back. She takes my hand and drags me through the line, showing the bouncer a VIP pass for both her and I. They let us in and Emma immediately drags me to the bar.
“Two vodka martinis!” She says to the bartender. The bartender nods and begins our drinks. I turn around to look at all the people dancing. Men in half dressed suits grinding on women in the shortest dresses. This is what Emma does every day? I understand the appeal, but the loud music and the flashing lights just aren’t for me.
We get our drinks and Emma takes me to a table to sit down at. “So what do we do now?” I ask.
“We mingle!” She shouts and raises her hands in the air.
The rest of the night that I can still remember was filled with drinking and Emma talking to numerous people, always asking about the guy who’s name I can no longer remember due to my copious consumption of alcohol. The last thing I remember was talking to a tall, handsome, dark haired man with beautiful light blue eyes.
~
I awake with a pounding headache. I raise my head from my pillow and slowly open my eyes, groaning from the pain. I look around and realize, this is not my bedroom. This is not Emma’s bedroom. I have no clue where I am. I scan the room and my eyes fall on a strange man sitting on the couch. I gasp and he looks up at me.
“Good, you’re awake. I was wondering if I’d have to drop you at the emergency room.” He laughs to himself.
I sit up fully in the bed. “Who are you? Where am I?” I ask frantically.
“My names Matt, and-“ I stop him
“Oh my god.”
“It’s fine just-“
“Oh god what happened?”
“Nothing, I-“
“I was drunk!”
“I know, that’s why I-“
“Tell me I didn’t. We didn’t.”
“Would you let me fucking speak?” He yells. “I didn’t fucking touch you, okay? You were dancing on a table and your friend had gone home with some guy so I got you a hotel room. You could barely stand and you just passed out on the bed.” He finishes with a huff.
I stare up at him in shock. “So we didn’t”
“No. We didn’t.” He pauses. “But we could.” He says with a smirk.
A blush appears on my cheeks and my breath shakes “What?” I ask
“Well you’re an attractive girl, I wouldn’t mind it.” He laughs. “But I have a meeting in an hour, so it’ll have to be another time. Want my number while you think about it?” He asks and before I can answer he hands me a card. “I got an Uber waiting for you whenever you’re ready to go home, it’s already paid for. Just do whatever you need to before you leave.” He says, clearly insisting I shower and eat. “And tell the driver where you need to go. Don’t forget to call, doll face.” He says before leaving and closing the door behind him.
I look down at the card he had handed me.
‘Matt Sturniolo.’ With an address and phone number.
Tags: @stargirlsturniololover (the one who came up with the idea for Mafia!Matt) @sturniolobessed
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satoruxx · 7 months
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HAUNTING ME TONIGHT.
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✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 0.6k words
✧ SUMMARY: this is a coping mechanism for today's jjk leaks so...SPOILERS AHEAD, blood, mentions of death, ANGST, gojo centric, vague af, hints at canon manga events, he goes back and forth between his past and present self, overall confusion bc he doesn't understand what really happened to him, it's bittersweet ig, idk man my emotions are all over the place rn
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: looks like it's a trend for me to write a gojo drabble every time the leaks fuck me up lmao. somehow after weeks of writer's block i managed to spit this out. here's part 1 from back in june when the neck slice happened. this and part 1 don't connect all that much but it's sorta hinted and i wrote this as a continuation. this can be read alone tho. whatever i'm so fucked up rn i'm gonna go back to crying...
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satoru thinks there's blood in his mouth. he can taste it, metallic and coppery as it fills his pharynx and seeps into his throat.
he tastes it even when his body is free from scars and sunlight warms his skin.
it’s comforting, he thinks, the feeling of carefree youth he hasn’t been able to experience in almost ten years. the grin that's stretching across his face makes him forget the blood.
he’s choosing to focus on them instead. focusing on the faces he hasn’t seen in so long. he’s not really sure what he’s telling them, but satoru has always been good at rambling about things like death.
for a second he feels like a teacher, preaching about dying alone, but then he remembers that he’s probably still a student. young and stupid and carefree.
but for some reason, the expression on suguru’s face makes him feel oddly nostalgic.
satoru likes this. he thinks he’d like to snapshot nanami’s expression. it's strange, but it feels like he hasn’t seen him in a long time.
but that’s ridiculous because he’s still a student. he’d seen nanami in class the morning prior.
something about that is wrong. he can’t quite put his finger on it.
he’s in the middle of annoying principal yaga when he catches sight of you.
you're making a face, one that he’s never seen before. it’s half angry and half wounded, like you’ve never been so hurt in your life. the expression unsettles him, and somehow he knows it’ll haunt his nightmares from now until the end of time.
your features crumble, and satoru notices you’re going in and out of focus, so he tries to blink you back into clarity. it doesn’t work.
briefly he wonders if you’re even real.
you glare at him, eyes shining with tears and every bit of hurt in the world.
“you promised.” you hiss, shoulders drawn high and taut as your body trembles with something he doesn’t quite understand.
promised what, he wants to ask, but he finds that he can’t open his mouth to speak to you.
the taste of blood comes back again, pooling in the back of his throat. metallic and coppery.
you bite down on your lip, hard, before turning away from him.
satoru doesn’t know how to reach out to you because his body is rooted in place. it feels like his brain isn’t connected to the rest of him, neurons firing but muscles not working in coordination.
he inwardly curses.
when he looks back, haibara is grinning at him in a way that reminds him so much of someone else. he briefly thinks haibara would suit pink hair. when he catches nanami’s tired eyes, something in his impassive expression tells satoru that he agrees.
there’s a fleeting silence, and the sound of a clock ticking quietly scratches at his brain. he looks at suguru, who’s smiling at him knowingly, skin clean of any stitches, and satoru decides he should commit the sight to memory.
there’s a restlessness in his stomach now, and he feels his torso burn.
he turns back to look at you, the taste of blood now extremely strong on his tongue as he watches your figure slowly start to fade from existence.
for a second, he smells smoke, unpleasant but oh so familiar. he remembers the sound of medical textbooks turning and the echo of an annoyed first grader’s voice. a few barks of a dog follow.
through the taste of blood, he can smell bedsheets. he can smell overly sweet coffee in the morning. he can smell the shampoo you use.
he closes his eyes, smiling ruefully to himself.
you’re right.
he did promise you after all.
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shiraishi-mai · 1 year
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[7:40pm]
“Where is he?” You asked softly. Your eyes roamed across the volleyball members occupying the hallway before looking back at the boy beside you. 
Osamu looked at you with a grim look and stuck his thumb behind him. “Sitting in the locker room. There shouldn’t be anybody else in there right now.” 
You nodded. “Thanks ‘Samu.” 
He dipped his chin in response before continuing to pack his duffle bag. There was a somber tone amongst the team as they began to slowly make their way out of the building. 
You headed to the locker room, slightly dragging your feet along the way. Once you were faced with the pale grey door, you found yourself hesitating to open it and laid your hand flat on its surface. Sighing, you turned around and leaned your back against it. What were you doing here? 
“Sooo what’s going on there?” Your friend had asked a few weeks ago while grinning like a Cheshire cat. You both had just watched a yellow-haired boy cheerfully wave at you through the classroom window before heading to his own class. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you opted to stare straight ahead at the board.
“Oh c’mon. You and Miya have been acting all buddy-buddy recently.”
“Yep because we’re buddies.” You began to doodle on the corner of your notebook. 
Your friend snorted.  “When did that happen?”
You couldn’t help but smile softly at the memory of meeting Atsumu for the first time. Your friend was right - Atsumu and you used to have an awful relationship. 
You had started Inarizaki a bit later than everyone else. Your family had decided to move into the area after your father had a job transfer, and so you found yourself the awkward new student a few months after the school year had begun. Volleyball tryouts had already passed, but the coach had seen you play at your previous middle school and graciously accepted you after giving you a chance to play a practice game with the rest of the team. The girls were amazing and you found yourself right at home with them - something you were thankful for since you weren’t looking forward to making friends from scratch. 
You knew the boy’s volleyball team at Inarizaki was excellent, therefore when the captain needed someone to accompany her to run an errand to the other gym, you eagerly volunteered. You hadn’t had a chance to see them in action and were dying to get a peek at their practice to see just how good they were. 
An orange court identical to the one the girls practised in greeted your eyes as you both stepped in the building and your captain turned to you upon entering the gym. 
“Just wait here while I go talk to their coach!”
You nodded and curiously began to watch the practice. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking and balls hitting the floor put you at ease and a starstruck expression crossed your face as you saw a tall, darker-skinned boy spike.
“Oi.”
Another boy with a leaner figure and slanted eyes spiked with a weird twist to his form and your eyes widened. That was unusual. Impressive.
“Oi.” 
I KNOW someone is NOT trying to get my attention by saying ‘Oi’. Who is this uncouth- 
You turned to see a boy with yellow hair and an unamused expression on his face. 
“Yes?” you said sweetly.
“Cheerleading tryouts aren’t in this gym,” he said shortly. 
The fuck? 
Okay, technically you and your captain were wearing ponytail holders with ribbons in Inarizaki colours and you both hadn’t changed out of your regular PE tracksuit, so you could maybe see where he might have gotten that. 
“Excuse me?”
“This is a volleyball court.” He spoke in a tone that implied that you were a bit slow.  
No shit Sherlock. “I’m not looking for tryouts.” 
He groaned in exasperation and put his hands on his hips. “Well if you’re looking to watch our practice, we can’t have an audience today. We’re going over some serious stuff and don’t need any distractions.” He turned and left you with your hand half raised and mouth open before you could respond.
“These pigs just think they can crash practice when they don’t even care about volleyball…” 
Pigs.
Pigs?? 
Who the fuck does he think he is?? This little- 
Okay, you know what, breathe y/n. Don’t do anything rash. Remember what your therapist said.
You felt a faint tap on your foot and looked down to see a stray volleyball had rolled over to you. 
I really shouldn’t. You thought, picking up the ball and ran a finger along the curves and dips. 
This is a bad idea. You tossed the ball in the air. 
Well, when life gives you lemons. You hopped and felt a satisfying smack as you hit the ball towards the back wall. 
Now, the intention was to hit the area beside the offensive boy and give him a little scare, however you forgot that your hits tended to curve a bit (a problem you were trying to fix).
So you watched, horrified, as the ball flew straight towards the boy.
It was almost like the trajectory itself was in slow motion but sped up as it impacted and there was a dull thud sound as it hit his back.
“OW!”
He turned around, eyes flashing and mouth curled angrily. 
“Oh god I’m so sorry.” 
Is what you meant to say. But you had your pride and also had kind of already committed to going down this path. 
“L/n y/n,” you said, matching his glare. “[insert favourite vball position here]. Nice to meet you.” 
The noises from the gym all halted and the air was still as the other members of the team stared at the scene. 
The boy with the slanted yellow eyes and middle parted hair snorted which prompted the boy beside him to begin laughing as well. You were stunned to see the same face except framed with grey hair. 
There’s another one??
There was a sudden ‘eep’ noise and you felt someone rush over beside you. “Oh my goodness I’m so sorry.”
Your captain grabbed the back of your head and wrenched your head down into a bow. “We’re so sorry. RIGHT?”
You yelped when you paused and she sharply tugged on one ear.
“Yes, my apologies.” You muttered. 
The girl dragged you out of the gym berating you but sighed and ran a hand down her face as you recounted what had happened.
“Honestly I guess I can’t blame you too much. That was Miya Atsumu.”
“Oooh he’s one of the Miya twins.” They were first-years like you but already quite famous around the school.
She nodded. “Osamu is fairly nice but Atsumu is known for being…difficult.” 
You snorted. “Seems like it.”
“He’s a damn good setter though,” she continued.
“Still,” you frowned. “This sport is about teamwork. You can’t be too difficult or else the team can’t function.” 
“Agreed,” she said before narrowing her eyes and looking at you from the side. “Though I’ll make you eat your words if that temper of yours makes an appearance on our team.” 
You shuddered before walking quickly ahead of her back to the girls’ gym. 
—-------------------------------------------------------
After that, your interactions with Atsumu Miya didn’t get much better. 
It didn’t help that he was in the class next door to yours. Everytime you met in the halls (which happened a good amount of times during the week) snide remarks were exchanged. 
“Oh look, it's the school’s kpop star,” you said drily when you exited the classroom for lunch and found yourself, yet again, in front of him. “Raaah raah.” 
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Don’t you expect to hear crowd noises everywhere you go? You’re always strutting around like you’re the shit and eating up the attention people give you. Well until they start messing with your serves,” you smirked. “It’s too bad you aren’t good enough to not be so easily distracted.” 
He looked at his twin beside him. “I told you, squealing pigs.” 
“At least I don’t go around grunting like a giant ape.”
The lanky boy whose name you learned was Suna tried to hide a snicker behind his hand.
“Well I almost didn't give someone a CONCUSSION.”
“Oh please,” you turned away from him and waved your hand in a shooing motion. “Your head is too thick to get a concussion.” 
“Tch more like your spike is too weak for it.”
“What did you say??” You whipped back around only for a teammate of yours to magically materialise and drag you away by the collar. News of your ostensible assault to Atsumu had spread amongst both teams and your incredible dislike for him was well-known by now. 
“I fucking dare you to show up to practice Miya and see for yourself it that’s true!”
“Hai hai that’s enough,” your teammate said tiredly and you crossed your arms, fuming, as you saw him sniggering before turning the corner. 
The students in your hallway quickly became accustomed to your face-offs, opting to give you two a wide berth whenever they occurred. Suna often stopped by to film and told you he was going to make a compilation of the best 10 fights at the end of the year. 
“He’s not that bad you know,” Osamu said, sipping on his drink. Your eyes rolled up to him from where you were lying down on the bench beside him. 
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 
“He’s…passionate. With a one-track mind. I think it’s good you’re so direct to him. It’s the only way that really gets through to his stupid brain anyway.”
You laughed. “How are you guys so different?” Osamu was in your class and at first you had been wary of him - he did share Atsumu’s genes after all - but were relieved to find out he was actually super chill. 
“I didn’t wanna end up like him.” He said simply and you chuckled again before frowning. 
“It’s a shame…he plays beautifully though,” you said under your breath.
You didn’t notice Osamu side-eye you quickly with an eyebrow raised.
Inarizaki had one of their games recently and you were honestly a bit curious to see how the evil Miya played and also so you could see if he made any mistake for your own satisfaction. However, you had to admit that Atsumu was talented. He was reckless and got ahead of himself but his sets were perfect. Most of the time at least. They were the type that you knew spikers were itching to hit and you wondered what it’d be like to play with someone like him.
Definitely a shame. 
—-------------------------------------------------
Of all things, the school’s annual fall event was the reason your relationship with Atsumu improved. 
Your friend’s class was putting on a production and she asked you to help paint some of the set pieces as a few people had canceled on her last minute. 
“y/nnnnn pleasseee” your friend whined. 
“I spend 90% of my life at school and the one free Saturday I have YOU WANT ME TO BE AT SCHOOL?” She grinned, enthusiastically nodding.
“You got some nerve-”
“It’s not my fault my classmates are lazy…I always get stuck doing busy work” she interrupted, shooting you her best puppy eyes. You bit your tongue as you wanted to retort that it was her fault for being the class’s student rep. 
You sighed. “Okay fine.” 
She squealed and clapped her hands. “Perfect, meet me at 1pm.”
A pit had formed in your stomach that you couldn’t explain as you opened the door to the auditorium. When your friend spotted you, she brightened and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you behind the stage. Large set pieces that outlined what you think was a castle and some trees were set-up but you barely noticed as your eyes found an offensive figure. 
Miya Atsumu turned his head to the side, flashing you his signature smile and opened his mouth. 
“Nope,” you said and turned on your heel and headed back towards the front. Your friend quickly ran and stood in front of you.
“What is Miya doing here??” 
“Apparently he and Osamu crashed into the principal while they were racing to the cafeteria and knocked him down so he’s forcing him to help out as punishment.
“Why is he the only one in there? Where’s Osamu??”
“Technically Atsumu is the one who knocked the teacher over. Osamu managed to skirt away in time so he wasn’t seen.” 
You groaned. “I can’t do this. Honestly, we might end up ruining your scenery fighting or something.”
She glared at you. “You wouldn’t dare.” 
You winced as she stared at you for a moment with a pensive expression on her face.
“What?”
“Maybe you should hang out with him. Both of you play volleyball…just talk about that.” 
“I don’t want to talk to him period.”
She snorted and said, “Just be open-minded. And don’t kill each other. Or destroy my set pieces.” She quickly added at the end.
“No promises.” 
You walked back and went straight to the paint rollers, blatantly ignoring the heavy gaze trained on you. Picking it up, you went to the end of the half-painted castle furthest away from him and began to roll. 
Atsumu raised an eyebrow. “That side is done.” 
You didn’t say anything and scooted a little to where it was unpainted.
“I don’t bite.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if you did.” 
“Shouldn’t I be more afraid of you?”
You glared at him and instead began to talk to one of the other people painting beside you. There were only three others and they had been fairly quiet at the hostile energy radiating between you two. 
However, Atsumu remained eerily quiet as he worked on his set piece and as you focused on yours, you found that time passed fairly quickly. You were finishing up and went to get another paint bucket when you blanched upon seeing Atsumu’s work. 
“Oh my god please don’t tell me this is all you’ve accomplished.” 
“This is harder than it looks!” He said defensively and you bit back a laugh. When he had whipped around to retort, he revealed that he had paint smudged on one of his cheeks as well as a bit of splatter on his shirt. 
“It’s straight lines Miya. I know you act like an ape but I didn’t expect you to have a monkey brain too.” 
He opened his mouth with an indignant face but stopped when you stood beside him. 
“The lines go this way - see then it looks like bricks.” You brushed lightly on the cardboard. 
Atsumu looked at you, eyes wandering around your facial features. He’d never seen you up this close before and without a scrunched up expression on it. Your elbows were almost touching and he frowned. 
“She’s pretty ya know.” Osamu grinned as if he knew a secret. It pissed Atsumu to see that expression on his face.
“So what? She’s mean and bitchy.”
“Oh c’mon. It’s partly your fault she acts that way too. She can be sweet sometimes.” 
“L/n. Sweet. Right.” 
“What, you don’t want my help?” You felt your hackles raise at his frown. 
He shook his head. Your eyes were lit with a bright fire - not necessarily one that was hostile but rather with a lively quality in them - and the stage lights cast shadows across the planes of your face in a way that made you look both glowing and vibrant. 
Pretty. 
His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head a bit to get out of his daze. He must be crazy. The fumes from the paint had probably made him a bit high and out of his mind. Right?
—---------------------------------------------------
After that, your relationship with Atsumu seemed to improve. Your face-offs slowly became more light-hearted and you both began to chat about volleyball, schoolwork, how Osamu and Suna bully him and on and on. He was surprisingly funny and by that, he was easy to tease and rile up. The two of you still fought but it was more so bickering over whether horror movies were better than action movies rather than actual malice. 
He’d come to watch a few of your practices and even began going to games if he’d finish his first. You’d find him, arms leaning against the railings of the second-floor seats and a shit-eating grin gracing his lips. You groaned internally when you saw the flash of blonde in the corner of your eye but refused to take your eyes off the service. 
There was a yell from the stands. “In!”
You froze momentarily watching the ball hit just outside the line.
“Out!” The referee called. 
“ATSUMU MIYA.” 
You whipped your head to the offensive boy and mouthed an aggressive “GET OUT.” 
All you got in response were mini finger hearts.
Mentally facepalming, you turned your attention back to the game and grumbled about him being lucky that this was just a practice match. You’d definitely get back at him on the walk home later.
Yes, indeed, Atsumu had begun to walk you home. He’d wave Osamu off and claim that he needed to walk off his post-practice high and it was getting darker quickly now anyway and he couldn’t make fun of you if you died on the way home. Most of the time, you guys continued the bickering from the day and joked about stupid things, and sometimes, when practice ran late deep into the night, the two of you would just walk side-by-side in comfortable silence. 
And honestly, being friends with Atsumu Miya was nice. 
—--------------------------------------------------
Unfortunately, your heart betrayed you and you could pinpoint the moment it did. 
You were watching the boys play a match and Osamu had gone in for a spike only to change it into a set straight to Aran. Atsumu looked stunned momentarily before he let out a boisterous laugh. The sound was just like a child’s - a refreshing sound full of joy and pure amusement - and you could practically feel his adrenaline amp up another notch. 
Aran scored the point (ofc) and the team gave each other excited high fives before the buzzer rang, signalling the other team calling a time out. You watched him chatter away upon reaching the sidelines and Aran gave him a slap on the back in annoyance while Suna shook his head. You chuckled at their antics but your smile slowly faded as your eyes found the blonde setter again. 
The slight chill from the stadium’s A/C, 
the feel of your hand gripping the end of a yellow cone,
the excited chatter of your classmates beside you, 
the itch at the end of your fingertips to hold that blue and yellow sphere.
You felt your heart beat painfully when you heard Atsumu’s laugh again. 
If you learned anything about Atsumu, it was that he was passionate and wore emotions on his sleeve. Life was simple for him - he said what he was thinking and unashamedly acted the way he felt. When he was elated, his joy was infectious and his face would shine excitedly about some new cool thing he pulled off. He was blunt, but honest and you felt a sense of trust in him because of it. 
And he had his kind moments. 
Once, he found you sitting on the lowest bleacher in an empty gym after a match when your team had lost a crucial game to qualify for the quarterfinals. 
Your eyes blankly stared at the ground as you absentmindedly spun a volleyball in your hands. 
“You guys put up a good fight.”
You snorted in response. “I could’ve done more.” 
“The team worked hard - you worked hard all year. Just get better and kick ass in the fall.” 
“Yeah I tried my best and all it got me was there. I made so many mistakes.” You shook your head. “I should have hustled after more balls…I missed the timing on a few blocks…geez,” you inhaled sharply and leaned back on your hands. “I feel so incompetent. What have I been doing this entire time?” 
“Hey I didn’t stay after all those sessions just for you to complain they didn’t help.” 
You wrinkled your forehead. “Sorry, that’s fair.” Looking up, you gazed into his warm brown eyes, you smiled softly. “Thank you for helping me.” 
He stared at you hard for a moment before turning his head away. “This just means I’m forcing you to train harder next year.” 
You groaned. “For fucks sake.” 
“But really,” he continued. “You aren’t incompetent. You’re like - you’re good.” He said a bit lamely before hesitantly continuing. “You’re good at volleyball, get good grades and get along with people easily. You’re better than most of these scrubs by far.” 
“And I’m pretty.” You swept your hair over your shoulder jokingly. 
There was a pause. “And you’re pretty.” 
“Not to gas you up or anything,” he quickly added. 
You giggled, ignoring the sudden increased palpitation in your chest before responding, “Aw since when is Atsumu Miya a sweetie.”
“Shut up, I take it back.” He stood up and plucked the ball from your hands. “C’mon you need to practice serving.” 
You narrowed your eyes. “My shoulder hurts.”
“Yeah and your serves sucked so let’s go.” 
You were pulled back into the game when the crowd surrounding you stood up, roaring in delight after Suna whipped a point in. Atsumu punched the air, roaring with them and you felt your chest squeeze painfully.
Oh god. 
—--------------------------------------------------
Just as you came to terms with how you felt, things soured with the blonde Miya. 
Atsumu was passionate and wore his heart on his sleeve. This meant that when he was upset, he was upset. Essentially he turned into a stubborn child. 
You were hesitating to open the door because you hadn’t talked to Atsumu in weeks. You were just as stubborn as him and maintained it wasn’t your fault. Both your heads would turn the other way and there was no more bickering - just an icy silence. 
And it all started with a stupid bet.
Atsumu had been teasing you for weeks about how someone seemed to daydream more during class recently and it seemed to result in him somehow getting a higher grade than you on a quiz. In response, you shot back that you’d beat him at midterms.
“Okay bet,” he said easily. 
“And if I win,” he crossed his arms and tilted his head with a smirk. “You have to wear the Inarizaki cheerleader uniform AND yell ‘GO ATSUMU’ during our game.”
You looked at him unamused. “I thought you didn’t like people distracting you.”
“During my serves. Do NOT do it during my serve,” his face darkened. 
“Okay okay moody. But if I win,” an evil look crossed your face. “You have to do the same thing.”
Suna’s eyes widened. “I would literally pay money to see that.” 
Atsumu’s eyebrows raised. “You want me to yell ‘GO ATSUMU’?”
You blinked at him in response. “This will be so easy.”
“The pom poms would look so small,” mumbled Suna quietly as Atsumu yelped indignantly.
Your eyelids pressed shut.
I’m so done with the boy’s volleyball team at this school.” 
However, what you didn’t know was that Atsumu, though lacking in other areas, was fairly good at math when he tried. This, and the lack of sleep you claimed to have, resulted in him scoring a lousy 2 points above you. 
Hence you stood in a uniform, pom–poms in hand and a bow in your hair at the game that would qualify Inarizaki for the fall tournament. 
“Suna, please tell me you got this on camera.”
The tall boy waved his phone up. “Oh yeah, with many different angles of her scrunched up angry face. You know-,” He leaned down, hands placed in his pockets, to your eye level. “You’d be prettier if you smiled.” 
Your eyes narrowed into slits. “Suna Rintaro you did not just say that. It’s so offensive and plays into traditional gender roles and on behalf of all girls I should-”
“Ap-buh-uh,” his slanted eyes turned upward into crescent moons as he straightened with an easy smile. “Just a joke, princess. You genuinely look good.” 
You huffed in annoyance. “I look good in anything.”
You waited for a comment from the annoying setter beside Suna but just found him blinking at you. 
“What are you doing?”
“Enjoying the moment,” he said with an oh so innocent smile. 
“Creep.”
“Hey I’m not the one who stinks at math.” He threw his hands up in defence. 
“TWO POINTS MIYA,” you moved to smack the back of his head and he dodged easily before speed walking down the hall.
“Oh what’s that I think we have to go warm-up,” he exclaimed loudly before smirking. “Don’t forget to cheer me on.”
“UGH.” You sighed in defeat.
“So when are you confessing your undying love for him?”
You squawked at Suna in protest. “I do not - I- it’s Atsumu - he -”
“I got it, breathe y/n,” he ruffled your hair and gave you a peace sign in farewell before walking off after Atsumu.
“Cheer for your guy loudly Ms. Cheerleader.” 
You huffed and you felt a hand slip into yours. Your head spun before you relaxed, recognising one of the regular cheerleaders behind you. She had been kind enough to lend you her spare uniform and teach you some of the cheers. 
“Y/n we have to get to our seats!” 
“Yay,” you said. Your voice fell flat despite trying to sound enthusiastic. 
She laughed and began to tug you into the gym. “Aw c’mon, you look gorgeous. Your boyfriend must be pumped to have you cheer for him!”
“He isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Hmm sure,” she said and made a knowing face at you. 
“He isn’t!” 
“Oh look, they're warming up. Let’s go to our seats before they start.”
And so you let yourself chant along with the girls beside you, throwing up your pom poms a little late but trying your best nonetheless. Atsumu was on fire as usual, syncing perfectly with Suna and Aran. Osamu made a few service errors, but you knew that he had been a bit ill the past few days. Some of your friends from the volleyball team even joined you and all of you screamed your support from the stands.
Finally the match came to an end and naturally Inarizaki won. You were so proud of the team and as they went around to high-five the other team your friend turned to you. 
“y/n, we’re going to the mall to hang out after. Wanna join us?” 
You nodded absent-mindedly, your gaze fixed upon the team below. “I think I can join you later. I want to say hi to the boys before I go.” 
She giggled. “Of course, gotta see Atsumu before you go.”
“Hey! I want to see Osamu and Suna too!” 
She simply laughed. “You’re practically bouncing in your seat. Hurry up and go say bye, we can wait for you outside.”
You nodded in response and took off towards the locker room. Normally, the guys would have a brief talk before changing and Atsumu would be standing outside, a smile on his face and with a slight wave of his hand. You’d thought about changing first to spare yourself from his teasing but honestly, you secretly thought you looked kinda cute in the uniform and wanted him to see you in it again. 
A sudden hand clamped around your wrist before you could make it down the corridor and you turned your head in confusion, locking eyes with a stranger. You recognised him as one of the players on the opposing team.
“What the hell are you doing?” You nearly squawked. 
“I couldn’t help but notice you in the stands today and was wondering why our side didn’t have any supporters as gorgeous as you,” he said with a wink.
“Thanks for the compliment but please don’t touch me.” 
“I saw you with the team before the game too. You’re a popular girl~” 
“So what?” Trying to calm your rising panic and you attempted to rip your arm away from him but his grip was too strong. 
“What’s wrong? You seem to be already whoring yourself out to them so what’s the problem with one more.”
“Fuck you,” you spit and thrashed against him. You reached your other hand up to slap his face but found yourself pinned against the lockers.
Your eyes widened as he leaned his face toward you with a fake smile plastered on your face. The feeling of being so helpless made your blood run cold and you froze, unable to understand what was actually going on. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself to headbutt him when you heard a loud crack. Your eyes snapped open and you saw the boy holding his cheek and a fuming Atsumu was standing in front of him. You felt a pair of gentle arms slowly pull you away from the two and you looked up to see Suna had wrapped his arms lightly around you, his gaze flatly looking at the other boy.
“Are you okay?” he murmured. 
You nodded faintly but you were focused on Atsumu’s face. His face - you had never seen any expression even close to that. Fury was radiating from him as he roughly shoved the boy against the locker and raised his arm again.
You wrenched yourself free from Suna’s grip and ran to stand by Atsumu.
“That’s enough Atsumu!” You gripped the arm that he had balled into a fist. “I’m okay.”
“Miya look at me!” you said when he didn’t reply. “Please!”
He finally dragged his eyes away from the boy and you shivered as he focused his glare on you.
“It’s fine,” you repeated softly and he thankfully put his arm down.
“He isn’t worth you getting kicked off the team,” you continued firmly and Atsumu finally let go of the boy whose face had gone white as Osamu showed up. The trio stood angrily in front of him and you realised in that moment they were quite intimidatingly big. 
“Don’t show your face in front of us again or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Atsumu spit.
“C’mon Atsumu,” Osamu pushed his twin away and roughly pushed him in the direction opposite of the player. 
“Don’t touch me,” he said growling. 
“Atsumu,” you began cautiously as you trailed after him outside the exit doors. “Atsumu is your hand okay?” 
“Just what the fuck were you doing?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“Why were you just standing there? Why the hell were you not fighting back?”
“I was fighting back!” you said, eyes flashing in anger. “I just froze up for a second! Heaven forbid I was fucking scared.” 
He shook his head as if your words were bouncing off of him. “How stupid are you? You’re always doing this - not taking care of yourself and acting all airheaded and zoning out. It’s a goddamn chore to watch out for you!”
“Nobody asked you to watch out for me,” your voice increased to match his. 
“Maybe if you stopped daydreaming like an idiot you’d start playing like an actual decent player instead of just sleeping on the court. Hell maybe your team would be able to stop being shit enough to fucking qualify for nationals for once.” 
“Dude that’s enough,” Osamu looked at him incredulously. 
You took a step back. Atsumu knew better than anyone else how hard on yourself you are, especially about volleyball. You had been overstressed recently as your grades were suffering because you kept staying so late to keep practising and you felt like you were drowning trying to balance everything. 
Your arms came up to wrap themselves around you protectively. 
The anger drained out of his face almost comically fast. “Y/n,” he said, a hint of fear on his face. 
You started to back away and shrugged nonchalantly. 
“No no, you know what you’re right,” you hated how your voice came out shakily. “It’s my fault that someone harassed ME, it’s MY fault our team keeps losing, and it’s MY damn fault that I’m not strong enough to have it together all the time.” 
“Y/n that’s not what I mea-.”
“No, that's exactly what you were saying,” you said, cutting him off. “Fuck you Atsumu.” Tears pricked at your eyes and you blinked them away, refusing to let him see you cry. 
“Y/n? Is everything okay?” 
The group of you all shifted to see your friends cautiously looking at you. “We heard yelling and you never came out so we were worried.”
“Yep,” you said, attempting to sound cheerful. “Everything’s good. Let’s go, I’m finished here.” 
“y/n,” Atsumu said with a hint of desperation in his voice. 
“I’ll see you guys around.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at any of the boys and simply sped off towards your friends. 
“That was a low blow,” Osamu shook his head.
Atsumu stared after your retreating figure before groaning and banged his fist against the locker. “I’m so fucked.” 
—------------------------------
And that’s the last time you really talked to Atsumu. He made multiple attempts to talk to you in school but always found you surrounded by your friends. They looked at him reproachfully and you were grateful to have such great people supporting you. He tried to confront you a couple of times before and after practice but your captain always made sure to kick him out of the gym and after you would practically sprint home before the boys’ had finished their practice. 
“He’s pretty hostile nowadays,” Osamu sighed from beside you. He’d found you hiding on the rooftop during lunch one day.
“What a surprise.”
“He’s beating himself up for it for sure though.” 
“Miya, are you defending your brother for once,” you tried to joke. 
“I dunno,” he leaned against his arms behind him. “You know how he gets. He’s an ass for sure but he was so worried that day. I’m not sure I blame him entirely though. It’d be infuriating to see anyone in that position. Let alone the girl he -” he paused. “Let alone our friend.” 
There was a silence long enough you felt Osamu glancing at you repeatedly. 
You really weren’t upset with Atsumu. At first, you were admittedly a bit scared of him - you’d never seen that side of him before. BUt you realised that it was probable that the anger was never directed at you. He defended you without a second thought and likely risked a suspension. Atsumu had supported you these past few months and had been a good, albeit kind of annoying, friend. He had his moments - enough so that you had fallen for him. Was it fair that you cut him out of your life?
“I miss him.” you admitted and tucked your knees against your chest. “I don’t really know how to talk to him though. I just keep hearing his words and I’m scared, like what if he loses his temper and says something hurtful again.” 
Osamu nodded. “I can’t promise ‘Tsumu won’t get mad again or say something hurtful and you definitely shouldn’t have to deal with it or make excuses for him. But he cares for you a lot and he doesn’t know how to be concerned since he’s emotionally stupid.” 
“Also,” he finally added. “Ma beat him with a spoon when she found out what happened so the likelihood of him doing it again seems very low.”
You giggled. “Aw Mama Miya putting the fear of god in her boys.”
“Mama Miya is very scary.” Osamu made a face. “She’s probably the only person Atsumu will listen to.” 
Your giggles rang out across the rooftop and Osamu huffed in amusement. As the sounds faded, your eyebrows drew together. You just needed time. You’d get over his words - they were empty after all - but until you could just see him for the boy you liked again, it’d be better to take a break from seeing him. 
—----------------------------------------------------------
A few months passed and Atsumu largely left you alone after a while. You could still feel his eyes on you if he passed by your classroom and you gave quick nods in his direction when you waved at Osamu and Suna. 
And then suddenly, here you found yourself after a game, knowing that he was probably in a shitty mood and asking yourself if you were willing to have him lash out at you again. The men’s volleyball team had gone to nationals and lost at the quarterfinals. You had given him a quick good luck after you stopped by to check on Osamu and Suna before the game but had screamed your lungs out cheering him on during the matches. You were shocked and your heart dropped when they lost after fighting so hard to break the tie. 
You knew he was taking it hard and would be blaming himself for everything.
How is he? You’d texted Osamu.
Not good. We’re leaving him alone.
Yikes is he being hard on you guys?
Nah tbh he’s p down and not saying much. 
The corners of your lips turned downward as you stared at the text. Before you knew it, your feet had led you to the team where they had directed you here.
You took a deep breath and opened the door praying Atsumu was still in there. He was your friend, the guy you had fallen for, and a source of comfort for you when you were having a tough time. It didn’t even matter if he had harsh words - you wanted to be there for him. 
The tall blonde was sitting on the bench, his arms bracing his back, and a towel covering his face. 
“‘Tsumu.” 
No response.
“‘Tsumu.” You called again, standing in front of him. 
“Not a good time, princess.” 
You reached a shaky hand out to place on his shoulder. 
You heard him inhale and a warm hand lifted to cover yours. The other came up to place itself on your hip and his head lolled forward onto your stomach. Your unoccupied hand gently began to rub small circles on his back. 
It oddly felt relaxing in that position and you didn’t feel anxious. It reminded you of those quiet walks home where there was a muted comfort between the two of you. 
“I’m not going to tell you ‘it's just one of those days’ and anybody gets them. While it’s true, you aren’t ‘anybody’. The standard for you is high - you set it yourself after all. But you always pull through.” You gave a little laugh. “You’re a great guy. That’s why all the people in your life stick with you no matter how callous and insensitive you can get.” You rolled back the towel so you could see his face. 
“You too?” His eyes peered intensely into yours. 
“Yep. Me too.” 
“M’sorry,” he said in a low voice. “Please don’t be mad anymore.”
“I’m not,” you said, your face softening but then frowned. “But I’m not sure if I forgive you yet.”
“I’ll take whatever I can get.” He half-heartedly gave you a crooked smile. 
“Dummy,” you shook your head, “I missed you.” 
He laughed, getting up and pulling you into a hug. The two of you stood, smiling idiotically at each other. 
“Is this a bad time to mention that Suna says you have a crush on me.”
“What???” 
You tried to untangle yourself from him but he merely squeezed you tightly in response.
“Take all the time you need. Just let me know when it’s okay to ask you out properly, alright?”
You groaned and buried your face into his chest. 
“Okay? Hello y/n are you there? y/n?”
“Fine, shut up, I'll let you know.” 
Fin.
3K notes · View notes
venus-as-aboy · 1 month
Text
Thinking about how Bakugo loves to watch you and Kirishima fight.
Everyone knows Bakugo hates it when you spar with anyone but him.
Today you had no choice.
After Aizawa partnered you up with Kirishima, the blond was livid staring daggers at the poor boy the moment you two were assigned together. Kirishima tried his best to soothe his friend's mind, trying to tell him how “he won’t get too close” and how he’s “only fighting you because Aizawa said so”.
He lied obviously. He’s been dying to get his hands on you. The boys not blind, he sees how you’re not afraid to get all close and personal. How you’d use your thighs to strangle your opponent into tapping out or sit on the shoulders of his friend to keep him pinned down. And he definitely hasn’t fantasized about the dirty shit you say to throw your partner off. I mean it’s not his fault your so damn hot.
The rules were simple. No quirks, no leaving the circle, and to win you need a proper three-second pin.
Even though close range was your specialty Kirishima dominates you in size and strength. To say this was gonna be a difficult fight was an understatement. The fight consisted of you trying your best to get out of his grasp, but of course it's even harder when you're getting so turned on by how rough he's being with you. You know it's wrong, especially because your temperamental boyfriend is only feet away. But you can't help it when he has you like this. Your arms are held behind your back, as his other hand grabs at your waist to keep you from turning, with your face smushed into the floor. You are already so wet, with his crotch nestled so perfectly on your ass. You arched your back to get just a little more friction on your aching heat and try your best to not think of what your boyfriend would do if he knew how desperate you were for his best friend.
Little do you know Bakugo is harder than he's ever been watching you too fight so hard to win. A snarl creeps onto his face as his ruby eyes burn into the sight before him. He wants so badly to be mad and rip the two of you apart, but he can’t ignore the growing ache in his pants.
The creep wants to cum right then and there. Fuck the consequences, fuck the rest of the class, he wants to fuck himself watching you two fuck fight like wild animals.
“Let go of me asshole” you said through gritted teeth as you struggle for a way out. The redhead feels you thrashing around, pushing right up on his now hard dick. “Just give up then” he groans as he leans down to rub himself on you get you off your feet. “Like hell, I will” You struggle for a second, before quickly dropping to your knees and sending ur head back to headbutt the now off-balance man. You move quickly to straddle his shoulders, grabbing him by the hair to keep his head down. But you aren’t strong enough to keep him down. He quickly grabs the backs of your knees folding you in half. The red perv used his body weight to keep you there, knees to your ears.
He started counting in a teasing tone “Onee… oh come on love, you're not done are you?” You can do nothing but pant as you feel his erection planted firmly on your back. “Twoo…” he leans in, breath ghosting on your thigh. “You don’t think I felt you grinding on me? Such a needy girl for me baby.” His voice drips with lust in a deep raspy tone. You whimper letting out the softest “please” before Kirishima quickly jolts off. Bakugou now standing above you, Kirishimas shoulder in his tense hand.
Before you can even get the words out he speaks first. “In my room right after class or you're dead” releasing his grip on Kirishima, letting him fall to the floor. “Both of you” he demanded before storming off to the locker room.
——
Thank you so much for reading🙏🙏Please forgive any mistakes this is my first fic and it’s not fr proof read.💀
248 notes · View notes
ruiniel · 2 months
Text
What You Choose
Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba
Pairing: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader
Count: 2K
Rating: T (M later)
On AO3
Summary: I recently watched/read KNY and have emotions. Likely done before, but wanted to get this out of my system so wrote it down. Rengoku survives the fight with Akaza, but some battles are not so straightforward.
Tags & Warnings: Rengoku lives AU, multichapter, blood, injury, pining, angst, second person POV, demon slayer!reader, tsuguko!reader, alternating POV, Oblivious Rengoku Kyojuro, for a while at least, Death, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut
All characters depicted are 18+
Tumblr media
I.
Everything fades. His body is going numb, his vision blurs as he stares down at his reflection in the dark pool of his own blood, unable to lift his head. The cries of grief surrounding him become dim and scatter like dying leaves from his consciousness.  
I've done my duty, I've given my all.
The last he remembers is a small, clawed hand and a sudden, blooming flame bursting through his shattered torso, scalding him from within in ways his own fire never could. 
I see... So this is what it feels like… to burn. 
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The balmy weather outside has no effect on you, seated at the side of the infirmary bed, your head in your hands. 
“Perhaps you should go and rest. There’s been no change, and we’ll be sure to inform you of any developments.” 
Aoi’s words are void of their usual sternness. You’ve heard them before, and yet—
“I’m fine, I really am.” You gaze back at the prone figure lying motionless beneath crisp white sheets. His gold and crimson hair is messy, and you’ve never seen him so pale, his features so sunken. The bandage covering his left eye is stained red in places, the usually smiling lips dry and bloodless.
Aoi sighs but says nothing else, and soon her departing steps echo against the walls.
I can’t. I can’t leave his side. You wish your thought could reach him, down to whatever place he’s struggling in now. You ball your hands into fists over your knees, a poor attempt at holding your composure. Please, come back. Please.
Weeks have passed since the mission on the train, since your group has returned with wounded bodies and spirits, though none in such a critical state as your mentor. Rengoku Kyojuro has not awakened since, and in contrast, since the nightmares the demon has placed upon you in that baleful encounter, you’ve not been able to sleep more than two to three hours every night. Every time, waking up in a sweat, the memory of what happened always the last image you remember. 
“How is he today?”
You’re drawn from your thought by the gentle voice of the person you feel like you owe a life of debt to, and turn to gaze into the tired, worried eyes of Tanjiro Kamado. He stands by the bed now, glancing down at the Hashira. The slow rise and fall of his chest is the only sign that he is still alive. 
You shake your head as Tanjiro takes a seat. “How is rehabilitation training going?” 
Tanjiro smiles, still staring at the bed and its unresponsive occupant. “Almost done, I feel my strength returning to what it used to be and more. I admire how well you’ve upheld yourself, though,” he murmurs. 
It’s true, for some reason, you’ve been the least scathed of them all, needing much less medical care than the rest. No, you know the reason why. “It’s because of him,” your words escape you. “If… if he hadn’t trained me as he did, if he hadn’t driven me so far beyond my limits, I don’t know if I would have survived for as long as I have in my role.”
“Oh, yes, I’ve heard. They say Lord Rengoku’s methods are… harsh to say the least.”
A smile tugs at your lips as a known pain pricks your heart. “But… but I’ve been remiss in thanking you, young Kamado—or rather, your sister. If she hadn’t…”  Your throat tightens; you don’t want to break down, not here, not before Tanjiro and not before him, no matter he can’t hear it. 
“Please, please don’t worry, it was a stroke of luck and quick thinking on her part, I only brought the box closer—”
“... she healed him! I saw the flames engulfing him, I saw the wound close. I don’t know how she did it but… Nezuko is someone... very special.”
Tanjiro lowers his head in humble acknowledgement. “I will tell her.” Then, as though remembering something, he reaches into his pocket and hands you a small bag. “Here, I’ve not seen you join meals very often and… well, please take them.”
You don’t have the strength to refuse, and take the bag from his hand, meeting his kind smile. “Candies…”  You thank him before placing them on the bedstand, and after a few more moments of sitting in comfortable silence, Tanjiro takes his leave. You watch him depart, endeared by his manner and honesty. He has a good soul, a strong will—perhaps the strongest you’ve known, apart from…
You stare back at your mentor, memories of the past flooding behind your eyes.
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Five months prior
“Good! Again!”
You’re panting, your total concentration breathing nearly failing as you evade another deadly arc of the Third Form: Blazing Universe. 
The sun has westered and a bluish twilight sets over the lands, but your mentor still has you parrying his unwavering techniques, before making you attack using combinations of them in turn. 
“Lord—lord Rengoku—”
His blazing speed cuts your words short as your blades clash, and you stare into bright, golden-rimmed irises. He’s smiling, as usual, with a devilish spark in his eyes. There is a sudden flutter in your stomach, overriding the fatigue in your burning muscles. “Come now, don’t tell me you’re beat! You’ve come so far after only three years!” he says as you fall back, lunging for another attack the following second.
The sudden weakness you feel when you’re close to him has you confused, because it was not there before. It all began in the past year: whenever he stares at you in a certain way, whenever he touches you during training or meets your eyes, something gnaws achingly at your chest. It’s as though you need something from him, but have no idea what it is. 
“I knew it from the moment I took you on as a successor,” he says, merciless in his offensive. “If you—” Parry. Lunge. “—carry on like this—” Attack. Jump. “—you’ll reach a Hashira level of skill in no time at all!” 
You don’t have the chance to reply, though his words feel like honey coating your senses. At first, he’d been sparse and strict, keeping to instructions and nothing else. But you struggled, worked harder than you had for anything in all your life, and it seems he acknowledges this fully now. 
“Now—Ninth Form: Rengoku!” 
That means you must attack, and he must deflect. But—Ninth Form?! “I—I can’t, I’m… I’m too exhausted for the Ninth!”
He bursts forward with Unknowing Fire, forcing you to duck and curl your body, rolling away into the dust, rising on one knee. 
The Flame Hashira turns, pointing his weapon at you. “Is that what you plan on telling the demons?”
“Well, no, but—”
“At no point during a battle will you have the luxury of biding your time. If this were an actual encounter, you’d be dead.” He no longer smiles, his face turned cold, eyes glinting like molten steel.
You feel the rush of shame like fangs biting into you, fueling a horrible need to prove him wrong, to rise up to the challenge in his voice. With a hiss and a groan you grip the handle of your katana tightly, breathing and striving to light that spark in your heart. 
With a cry you speed forward, clashing with him in a desperate lunge. 
“Ha!” The smile returns as you grit your teeth. “Better!”
His face is so close to yours again, so close you feel the rush of his breath on your cheek. 
Your knees feel weak again, and you close your eyes, pushing forward in an attempt to skew his balance. 
What the hell is happening to you? 
“Faster, the fire is still weak! It must rage!” the Hashira says, grinning like a madman now, and where once you enjoyed the path of learning and reaching your full potential, now his attitude brings forth an ache that confuses you and leaves you anxious.
Even so. Your blades sing against each other as you lunge back in a high jump, landing in a lowered stance with one palm braced against the earth. Your uniform is wet on your back, and you’re closer to your breaking point than you've ever been.
But the thought of disappointing him, now that feels unbearable. So you do what you always do: you push yourself more, more, harnessing all your strength into one melting core, bathing your heart in it and firing up your veins. 
You attack.
He laughs outright. “Not bad, but—” Your swords clash, fiercer than before. “I know you can do better, and you can be faster.”
“I’m doing all I can!” you yell, at the end of your tether now. It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last. But he takes no offense, he never does, and that's one of the things you appreciate about him. “But you—you make it impossible! You always want more, even if you know I’m not ready for it!”
It must be the fire rushing through you that has you speaking this way, daring to say such words despite knowing full well what you were in for, when you accepted to become his successor. 
“Wait until you’re ready, and you will never improve!” the Flame Hashira throws back.
A growl leaves your throat as you fall back then speed towards him again, trying the Second then the Third form in succession sloppily but you’re past caring. 
Your arms feel as though they will tear and your bones might splinter as you crash against his unwavering stance, and you meet his scarlet-gold gaze as he speaks softly, his voice imbued with warmth: “You can surpass the impossible. I believe in you.” 
Your eyes widen, that damned ache ringing through your body like a weakening poison and—
For one split second, your stance weakens, and you’re thrown back, losing your balance and falling heavily onto the ground. 
Rengoku stares down at you, tilting his head to the side with a strange look on his face as he sheathes his katana. 
Your vision sways, your lungs might burst. You barely clutch at the helping hand extended to you, aiding you to your feet. He grasps your shoulders. “What happened there just now? Your focus melted like wax.”
“I…” You can’t look him in the eye. His hands on you diffuse heat, permeating through your clothing. It feels good. It scares you. “I don’t… know.”
“Tomorrow, again,” he says, releasing you. “Please do better. Remember we’re doing this for you, but foremost for the people.”
“Understood,” you murmur, biting back tears as you watch him walk away.
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Midnight has arrived when you end your reverie, thinking about that emotion that took root in your body and spirit, growing stronger as time passed. And you never dared tell him, never dared facing it nor can you explain why. You take a deep breath, leaned with your arms folded on the edge of the bed, your forehead resting on them. You never told him, and now… 
And now with each day I’m losing hope.
Your shoulders are shaking, and your eyes sting. There is no one else here but you and him, the long chamber of empty beds the only witness to your breakdown. 
You’re so absorbed by despair, you don’t perceive the faint movement, or the hand gently placed on your head.
“... Why are you crying?”
You choke on a silent sob, blinking in shock at the low, throaty voice, broken with disuse. Slowly, you raise your head.
He's staring at you, a bleak smile on his lips, and you're utterly, incomprehensibly frozen.
“You… you’re awake?” It feels like the dumbest of questions: your body knows the truth before your mind catches up. 
“That… depends. Are you really here?” he asks in turn. 
You nod, biting on your lower lip and wiping your eyes with your sleeve. “Yes, yes I am.”
The smile wavers for a moment as he grimaces in pain. “Oh, I see. Then… it seems… you’re not rid of me yet.”
All the gods in all the world couldn’t keep the emotions flooding you at bay, and you shake your head as warm tears flow down your face. 
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PART II
161 notes · View notes
heartthrobin · 10 months
Text
here kitty kitty
miguel o’ hara x gn!reader
wc: 1.2k
warnings: sunshine reader, grumpy miguel, also lovesick miguel, tooth-rotting fluff, kittens :)
an: went to go see ATSV again today and was thinking about my man so i needed to get this out. remember to reblog and comment to support your favourite writers <3
summary: you want a kitten. Miguel doesn’t want to share.
the air on earth 991 was cold.
an icy white blanket draped over the tops of the roofs in Manhattan, broken only by the red streaks whizzing between buildings - the serene snowy landscape interrupted by echoing grunts of fist colliding with metal.
even over your suit, the cold bit into your arms and up between the tendrils of your hair as you free fell down the side of a bank.
“Pav, on your left!” Jessica’s voice echoed down your earpiece.
you spat out a web at the building adjacent, body twisting and turning between the flailing green arms of the Dr Ock that had appeared on this earth where he most definitely did not belong.
a crack rung down the alleyway where Miguel’s foot connected with the anomaly’s jaw. a groan followed quickly after it and metal arms grappled at low hanging ledges, crumbling them beneath monstrous pressure.
“hey Pav,” you called your best friend over the microphone, sing-songing his name. “bet you can’t pin down more tentacles than me?”
“ha,” his voice bounced quickly back. “you are so on!”
you kicked off the edge of the red-brick side of the building, swan diving between flying metal.
thick white webs tangled over the nearest tentacle, your ankle wobbled dangerously beneath you when you landed against slippery ice-bitten tar.
“yn—“ a voice called through your earpiece again. “—stop being reckless. focus on his abdomen, it’s exposed.”
you giggled merrily, stomach swooping when your released a web and arched into a backflip far over Dr Ock’s head. “take a chill pill, Miggy.”
he hated when you called him that at work. preferred when it was shared in the privacy of his bed, when you’d lean lazily over his broad chest and pick at flecks of hair over his forehead.
“you’ll crease that pretty forehead, baby.” you crooned and then grunted, tugging down on the web that you’d managed to tangle around a metal arm.
Pavitr flew past in your peripheral vision. he sent a splatter of web straight at the anomaly’s face: there was a giant roar and the kick of Jessica’s motorcycle.
“para.” Miguel scolded, but you could hear the blush in his voice.
your mouth opened - in the corner of your eye you watched Jessica turn her head away - unleashing a supersonic scream that rippled down over the figure of Otto Octavius. trembling hands came over his ears, a useless attempt at defense, and four tentacles writhed painfully against the grey coloured sky.
Miguel and Pavitr came down in unison towards his exposed cranium.
it all seemed to end within seconds. Dr Ock concealed in the chamber of the portable prison and you panting over the sidewalk.
snow fell gently over the scene, the air unshaken by the violence down in the street. crumbled bits of rock littered car roofs and bodega doormats.
Jessica was leaning against the seat of her now parked motorcycle, Pav was strutting towards your figure and Miguel was edging down the side of the nearest building.
“i took him down so, technically, i won. you owe me a soda.”
Pavitr’s palm closed over your shoulder, warming the spot under his grip. “woah, woah woah. technically, you wouldn’t have done anything if i hadn’t screamed—“
the end of your sentence dissolved, abandoned. on the inner side of the sidewalk, close against the wall of the shut laundromat: you noticed a tiny black figure against the pure white snow.
“what—Pav look …”
you crunched through the knee high snow towards it, kneeling to scoop up the shivering creature.
two giant yellow eyes blinked down from where you held it up against the dying afternoon light.
“it’s a kitten.” your heart clenched tightly in your chest.
Pavitr reached a hand over, scratching a spot on the creature’s head with a single finger. the cat was barely bigger than a barbie doll. he meowed softly.
you tucked him against your chest, wrapping your arms over his small figure. “are you cold, sweetheart? you wanna come home with us?”
a tiny black tail swished under your arm. Pavitr laughed, “yeah. like Miguel would let that happen.”
you huffed. “that softie? he’s easy to break.”
“let’s get moving. back to HQ.” as if summoned by the mention of his name, Miguel was moving towards the team.
Jessica didn’t need to be asked again and disappeared through a blurry yellow, orange and red portal before Miguel had even fully reached the sidewalk.
the portal floated in place, buzzing and hissing with it’s brightness.
you turned to your boyfriend, black kitten tucked against you. his gaze was focused over his watch, tapping at the little yellow keyboard.
“Miguel.” you whined lowly. his eyes flickered down to you, drifting curiously over to the creature in your arms.
“mhm?” he hummed lowly, cautiously.
“isn’t he cute?” you pressed.
Miguel’s arms fell to his side. his face remained stoney. “yes. very cute.” his words were as interested as his expression. scarcely.
you stepped closer to him, invading his space in a way you knew nobody else ever could. your arms nudged his lower chest.
“he looks kinda like you, baby. all dark hair and big eyes.” as if he knew he was being mentioned, the cat stuck his little head out from the crevice of your arm to look up at the giant looming spider.
“what do you want?” he sighed softly, like he wasn’t absolutely dissolving under your sweet syrupy gaze.
“can’t we take him home?”
“you know we can’t do that.” his hands found his hips.
“he’s cold.” you shuffled forward, pressing up against his figure: jutting out your chin to rest on his warm chest. “he’s shivering, look.”
“that’s too bad for him.”
“are you really so heartless, Miguel?”
Miguel shrugged. lashes fluttering where his eyes were raking up and down your figure.
“yes.” he settled on.
it made you chuckle. your laughter bubbled against his suit, rumbling the kitten in your grasp. “no you’re not. you wouldn’t let me annoy you like this if you were.”
“maybe.” one hand came off his hip, running it’s palm over your sweaty forehead and pushing stray hairs back in place. he leaned down and pressed a warm kiss there. “but that doesn’t mean you’re keeping the cat.”
“aw, you guys are so adorable.” you’d just about forgotten that Pavitr was there. “it’s making me sick.”
Miguel flashed shining white fangs at him, a growl echoing from the depths of his throat.
“yeah, yeah.” Pavitr groaned, sidestepping his boss before disappearing into the portal. “i’ll see you two back at HQ.”
Miguel ushered you away. you set the kitten close to the door of a bakery where warm air was curling out from inside.
he was waiting for you by the portal, hand outstretched.
you took it, bumping into his side with the purest intention of annoying him.
“you gonna get me a cat, Miggy?”
he huffed. “what, so i can fight for your attention in my own apartment? no ways.”
you fell into step beside him through the portal. the headquarters appeared fuzzily into view.
“we’ll see.”
-
it took less than a week of pestering before Miguel arrived home late after work with a tiny black kitten in a box.
you’d kissed him drunk and promised that he’d forever remain your favourite clawed and fanged creature in the apartment.
he didn’t seem to mind too much after that.
to be fair, his lips were too swollen and your tongue was too far down his throat for him to protest anyways.
-
pls comment and reblog! <3
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corrodedcoffins-blog · 6 months
Text
The First Meeting
main masterlist
spencer reid x famous!reader Universe
word count: 4.1 k
warnings: stalking, murder, character asking to die (if I missed something please let me know)
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Today was supposed to be an easy day for the BAU. It was a paperwork day, no case, no one dying on their watch.
These were some of Spencer's favourite days, don’t get him wrong he loves being in the field and profiling killers, and when they arrest an unsub, that’s the best feeling.
But having days every now and again where they don’t have to travel and Spencer can read and reflect on their previous case, he greatly enjoys it. And he can’t say he’s the only one, but he can say he’s the only one that uses paperwork days to do paperwork.
Penelope walks in the glass doors humming a tune, foreign to Spencer.
“You got that James Dean day dream, hmm hm mhmmm, I got that red lip classic” 
“What’s got you so happy, babygirl?” Derek says, from across Spencer.
“Um, because The Met Gala is tonight! Biggest night in Fashion! And no case means I can watch it.”
“Oh, I must have forgot to put it on my calendar.” Derek, sarcastically remarks while getting up and out of his chair on his way to refill his coffee cup. All the while JJ comes rushing the bullpen, giving the rest of her co-workers a sympathetic face.
“Just when I thought, we would have an easy day.” Emily mumbles getting out her desk chair and walking away with JJ.
“Wally Melman, a music producer in New York, was killed two weeks ago, and Natali Ryan , a singer and songwriter, was killed 4 days ago also in New York.” JJ says while the screen behind her shows pictures of the crime scene.
“The police said they found pictures with the victim's face with ‘You’re Next’ written in red marker across their face. Suspected to have gotten in the mail.”
“And why have they called us now?” Derek says, clearing knowing there was more JJ was going to say but wanting her to get to it quicker. 
“Yesturday, another singer/songwriter, by the name of Y/n L/n-” 
“Oh. My God!” Penny interrupts JJ, having come in to tell the team an update she had gotten from the NYPD. “uh- sorry, I’m sorry.. Um, the NYPD wants a couple of us to go straight to the crime scene once we land, and that the next vic- uh Y/n L/n I suppose- is at the station waiting.” Penny says, turning and leaving after finishing her sentence. 
“Okay everyone, wheels up in 30. JJ can fill us in on the jet.”
When the team arrived in New York, Hotch sent Rossi and Emily to the recent crime scene, and JJ to talk to the media, while himself, Spencer, and Derek went to the station.
When the three got to the station they were shown the note Y/n had gotten from the unsub, different to the others, hers having ‘You Owe Me’ written across her face instead. The team walked into the room they were told Y/n would be in.
Spencer knew she would be pretty, everyone in Hollywood was gorgeous that’s how it worked, but this girl was easily the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon, even with her bleached hair that he could assume was a split second decision.
She sat on a chair next to one of the officers' desks, as if she was like everyone else and not a world-wide popstar. Y/n and her manager Joe look up, hearing footsteps walk into the room. She stood up to shake Hotch’s hand. 
“Hi, I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you and thank you so much.” “Of course” 
She goes to shake Derek hand, saying a greeting similar to the one she gave Hotch, then she comes face to face with Spencer, or possibly- not definitely the most beautiful man she has ever seen, sticking out her hand she says, “Hi, nice to meet you..”
“Dr. Spencer Reid- or just Spencer, you don’t have to call me doctor.” “Nice to meet you Spencer.” Y/n stays looking at Spencer maybe a second longer than she should have. It’s just so hard to look away from a man that beautiful. When Y/n does finally look away, she takes a seat and they begin their questioning. 
“How well do you know Natalie Ryan?”
“Uh, we talked when we were at the same events and were always friendly, but we weren’t friends.”
“How about Wally Melman?”
“What?” 
“Wally Melman, he was a producer who was killed a couple months ago.” Spencer jumps in, making Y/n turn to address him, while she asks her next statement .
“The paper said that it was a robbery.” “The paper was wrong.” Derek responded quickly.
“Did you know him?” Hotch asks, wanting to get back to the questions he has for Y/n.
“I wanted to work with him on my last album, but he started working with..” Y/n cut herself off.
“Who?” Spencer asks concernedly, seeing the scared look on Y/n's face.
“Natalie Ryan, and they beat Y/n for song of the year” Joe says while Y/n is setting her face to rest in her hands, trying to comprehend what was happening.
“Do you ever have the feeling that someone is following you, or watching you?” Derek asks.
“Only every second I spend outside my house. I have fans, and paparazzi following me everywhere. It’s part of the job.” 
“Do you ever get repetitive phone calls, hang ups, or gifts sent anonymously?” Spencer asks.
“I receive flowers, Lilies, my favourite. The seventh of each month they get sent to each of my homes, they just show up on the doorstep. Never a note, nothing.” 
After a few more of their questions it just becomes too much, knowing that these people are being killed because of her or ‘for’ her and Y/n gets up and leaves the room. Not being able to actually leave given the cameras outside, she doesn’t get too far. And Spencer is right behind her.
“Y/n wait!”
“Can you explain what the hell is going on?”
“Well, it’s still rather speculative, but it appears there’s a delusional assassin who’s killing people to help further your career. It probably started as a stalker. An erotomaniac stalker. There’s a psychopathology of the evolution of these types of stalkers and the fact that he’s contacting you indicates that he believes you owe him something. This model frequently concludes itself with one of two possibilities, either the stalker will kill himself or he’ll kill the object of his affection.”
If Spencer wasn’t talking about the possibility of Y/n’s untimely death, she would have had more time to find Spencer’s rambling and seemingly never ending knowledge hot.
Y/n had gotten home from her time at the station, hoping to be able to relax as she has the Met tomorrow night. But when she had gotten to her front door the yellow notepad paper taped onto it caught her eye.
After reading the note she called the station immediately. The BAU had arrived looking over the note, Y/n was in the room but not listening, she onlys snaps back into listening to the conversations when she hears Spencer. 
“In English?” one of the officers asks.
“That is English actually.” Y/n smiles at that, while Spencer continues, getting cut off by Derek not too far into his explanation. Y/n finally speaks up, after the team starts talking about how she should continue, as if she isn’t there.
“I’m standing right here guys..”
“If we did remove you from the street, you couldn’t stay here, we would have to take you to an undisclosed location.”
“I have a fitting here in 30 mins, and the Met tonight, then I’m all yours. Look, I don't want to be afraid of this lunatic.”
"We can clear all but essential personnel, and up your security.”
“Derek and Spencer will stay here with you.”
“Okay.”
The team getting Y/n ready for the Met have set up, Y/n just finished getting hair and makeup done in just her underwear and a robe. Spencer walks up to Y/n while she’s opening a greenhouse ginger shot to drink.
“I’m sorry if I was insensitive earlier.” Spencer says, referring to when he followed her outside of the questioning room and told her there was a possibility this stalker/assassin guy will kill her, just a tad insensitive.
But nonetheless Y/n responds with, “It’s fine, you were just doing your job, right?” “Yeah.” Y/n takes her ginger shot with a look of remorse on her face. She reaches for the soda in Spencer’s hand, to wash it down. 
“You don’t mind sharing with me do you?”  Spencer quickly shakes his head mumbling a quick ‘no’ while Y/n’s team calls her to get into the dress, Y/n takes off the robe she was wearing, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen, then throwing the robe over a nearby chair. Now standing in just her underwear she smiles at Spencer before walking over to the team helping her get into the dress.
Leaving Spencer to watch her as she subtly sways her hips slightly more than usual when she walks. Spencer takes a sip of the soda Y/n had handed back after taking a sip, Derek coming over to tease Spencer about the scene he just watched.
“You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” “Shut up.” Spencer says as he walks away. “Go get ‘em, lover.”
Y/n didn’t get to stay at the Met nearly as long as she wished. With double the security and Spencer there with her, she knew she wouldn’t have the night she was hoping for, but maybe something close.
But as she danced with Tom Hiddleston, Spencer got the call to take her to the safe house. Spencer didn’t really want to interrupt Y/n dancing on who he assumes is  another famous person, but he had to, for her safety. 
“Um- Y- Y/n we have to go.” Spencer says while struggling to gain her attention.
“Really?” “Yeah..” “Okay” she sighs, turning to Tom, mumbling an apology and some fake excuse.
They got to Y/n's home. Spencer rambling about safety measures Y/n should take. “You should also probably change all your phone numbers.” “I’m unlisted.” “Anytime you call an 800 number or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. If someone gets your cell phone number they can go online and research all your records.”
Y/n looks at Spencer expecting him to continue, but when he doesn’t she assumes he’s done, and gets up to walk into her kitchen, saying as she gets up, “You’re very cute when you ramble.” Causing Spencer to freeze but when she turns the corner out of his sight he rushes to keep up with her.
“You should also probably carry a piece of paper and a pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious licence plates that often reappear.” Spence trails of looking closely at a collage hung up on Y/n’s wall 
“It’s a photographic collage. I like how obscure it is.”
“You should also get a dog. Like a guard dog of some sort.” Spencer says, staring intently at the collage but not acknowledging what Y/n said about it. 
“I don’t think so, I'm a cat person. Dogs are not for me… Earl grey good?”
“Wha- what?”
“Tea, do you want some tea?”
“Uh yes, yes sure.”
“Okay” Y/n says smiling at his nervousness.
Y/n walks into the living room, in her swimsuit with a robe overtop, coming to stand next to Spencer while he stares intently at the picture collage on Y/n’s wall. 
“Are you feeling anything?” “There is something definitely appealing about it.” “That’s a start” Y/n says while chuckling.
Turning on her heels towards the back door to the pool. This catches Spencer’s actions wondering what she's doing, he asks, “What are you doing?” “Going for a swim.” Y/n responds nonchalantly. “What? No, Y/N!” Spencer yells following her, but before he can reach her she dives into the pool.
Swimming up to the surface and wiping her face with her hands. She looks so gorgeous, she looks like a movie star, which is not far off. But Spencer really shouldn’t be thinking about how beautiful she is when he’s job is to keep her safe, and her being out here is not safe.
“Y/n, you cannot do this.” “Just a few minutes?” She ‘asks’ while giving Spencer puppy dog eyes. “Go get a suite in the house.” “What? No, I’m not going to grab a suit. Are you kidding me? No.” Spencer says in that high pitched tone he does, she’s only heard it once before, but she can’t help but find it so cute.
“Join me.” “No, I’m going to join you.” “Why not?” “You’re being pursued by a psychotic killer who shoots people in the head!” “I’m not going to stop living my life because of him.” Y/n turns to float in the water. “Y/n, I’m begging you. Will you please get out of the pool?”
“Come on, Spence, you should live a little.” “Live a little? I’ve not known you for 24 hours, I feel like I’ve already aged 10 years.” “Ugh, I can’t be that bad.” “Yes, you are that bad.” Y/n turns off of her back and starts to swim to the edge of the pool Spencer is standing at. 
“Fine, but can you help me out at least?” She says putting on an innocent face as if she really did want help out of the pool. When Spencer leans down to grab her hand to help her up, Y/n pulls him into the pool causing a big splash following after Spencer falls in. 
Which then causes a laugh to come from Y/n as Spencer rises to the water's surface. 
“Yes, very funny. Laugh it up, Y/n. Hilarious. My gun’s wet. That’s just great” Spencer swims to the edge to get his gun out of the water, Y/n swimming behind him, still chuckling. 
“My clothes.” “I told you to grab a suit.” 
While Spencer looks down at his wet chest, Y/n’s hand comes to rest on his peck, causing Spencer to look up at Y/n. When he looks at her, she is already looking in his eyes, her eyes asking the question ‘do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?’ the answer being ‘yes’ as Spencer starts to lean in. Not knowing what he’s doing, leaning in to kiss Y/n L/n global superstar? Who does he think he is, thinking she would want to kiss him? But contrary to Spencer's beliefs, Y/N leans in too, pulling his body closer to hers faster by his tie. As their lips collide, it feels as if the world slows down. For the first time in a long time Y/n feels normal, regular, ordinary, in the best possible way. She feels in the way Spencer's lips are moving against hers that he doesn’t want her for her fame, or looks, but for her. Just her. But then Spencer pulls away. It had only been a couple seconds, how could a kiss that short hold that much emotion? Spencer’s words stop her from thinking too much. 
“This is completely inappropriate.” “Spence..” Y/n looks into Spencer's eyes only looking away when she closes them and pulls him into another kiss, by his tie. This kiss, still sweet and emotion filled, yet rougher, as if they had gotten that much more comfortable now versus 15 seconds ago. Their lips move together roughly, Y/n tongue brushing Spencer’s lips looking for access, which causes Spencer to move his lips back from Y/n’s again. “No, there’s this thing called transference.” Spencer says, all the while Y/n is trying to recover from the best kiss of her life, and Spencer has no idea. “Do you not like me?” “What?” Spencer says quickly like him not liking her, and is just the most insane idea in the world, and truthfully that’s not far off. “Was that kiss not good?” “No- no it was very good.” “Because I like you.” “I like you too. It’s just I’m a federal agent. You know. And I’m supposed to protect you.” “Then you should keep me close.” Y/n mumbles moving her lips to Spencers again. Spencer pulls back to start talking again, as Y/N’s kisses move to his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin every so often, the first nibble causing Spencer to let out a surprised noise that quickly turns into a moan. “I’m just, hmm.. I’m a little worried, you know? We’re in a pool.” “Are we?” “And it’s uh.. We’re pretty much exposed.” Y/n moves to give Spencer's lips a quick peck, before responding to his concerns. “We have cops. We have cops posted out front.” Y/n cuts herself off to kiss Spencer again, “There are coyotes out back.” Y/n pauses looking at Spencer’s lips, while licking her own, then shooting her eyes up to Spencer’s “And then it’s just you and me.” Y/n moves her lips to be hovering over Spencer’s their noses rubbing against each other, it feels much more intimate than just kissing him, breathing in the after shave and cologne mixed with chlorine soaked into his skin is a smell Y/n would never get sick of, no matter how much she hated the smell of chlorine. She moves her lips back to the spot she found on his neck that makes him the most reactive. “Stop- I have to tell you something.” “What?” “I didn’t want to tell you this before, because I was a little bit worried… I didn’t know how to say it, but I can’t not tell you.” “Spence, just tell me. What is it?” “Your manager, Joe… Hotch went to check on him, but he got there too late.” Y/n looks into Spencer’s eyes any ounce of a look that would tell her he wasn’t serious. Because Joe couldn’t be dead. Not because of her, Joe was like family, no matter how weird he was. Joe was always there. Y/n turns away not being able to look at Spencer, “How could you-” She turns back to him, looking Spencer in the eyes as she aks, “How could you not tell me?” “I was afraid you’d be upset.” “You knew? How could you know and not tell me?” “Y/n, I’m so sorry” Y/n moves towards the edge of the pool to pull herself out, Spencer trying to help her. “Don’t- Don’ touch me! Please, don’t touch me!” Y/n gets out walking back into the house with a towel around herself, leaving Spencer in the pool.
Spencer walks into Y/n’s living room, seeing her sitting on her couch crying, he wants to comfort her. Just don't know how. “Y/n?...Are you still… Are you okay?” “Joe was like family.” Hearing Y/n cry hurts Spencer more than he thought possible from a girl he met not even 24 hours ago. “It’s just so hard to trust people in this industry, you don’t know who to believe.Everybody wants something from you. And I felt- I thought you were different.” “I know I should have told you.” “I told him not to.” Rossi cuts in having heard most of the conversation from behind Spencer. “He was only following my orders.” Rossi pats Spencer's shoulder while leaving the room. “The last time I could really trust people was when I moved to Nashville.” Y/n says, all the while Spencer is decoding the picture collage on Y/n’s wall. “Nashville, you said you lived you Houston street? And you were on KZ fm in high school?..” “Yeah..?” When Y/n sees the way Spencer is intensely staring at the collage she also gets up, to stand next to him. “I need to take this thing about.” Spencer says while not looking away. “What?” “I’ll put it back. I think I see images of you. Guys!”
Y/n stands to the side with Derek while Spencer and Emily are putting the pieces together. “Y/n, it looks like someone has been stalking you for years.”
“Yeah, this tells your whole life story. Awards, Billboard charts, Albums.” 
“Everything since moving to Nashville.”
“Who gave you this collage?” Derek asked, leaning over the island counter. “Um- he did” Y/N says pointing at a picture on the collage. “Who is he?” “Uh- Parker Dunley, I don’t really know him, he just owns a gallery I go to sometimes.” 
Spencer gets off the phone quickly turning to Y/N. “Y/N, do you someone by the name of Veronica Hartley?” “Roni? Yeah, of course I know her. I’ve known her for years. She’s one of my assistants.” Their conversation gets cut off by Y/n’s phone ringing. “What is it?” Spencer asks, seeing the way her eyes widened when she read the caller ID.
“That’s her calling now.” 
“Is she calling from her cell phone?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Y/n, we think Roni’s the stalker.” 
“No- No way.” 
“Answer the phone. Act completely natural, the longer you keep her on the line the more likely we’ll be able to trace the call.. Trust me.” Spencer walks away to call the team, while Y/n answers Roni’s call.
“Hello?…Roni?...” Spencer turns to Y/N and gives her a signal to keep talking.
“Rons?... You’re tired?......I saw you today?.... I don’t know what you’re talking about.. I remember.. Roni, that was just one weekend…”
“Y/n” Spencer whisper yells, after getting off the phone with Penny, finding out Roni’s calling inside the house.
“How did she get inside?”
“She has keys.”
Spencer starts searching the house Y/n walking behind him. When they get up to a guest bedroom, Y/n feels the barrel of a gun being pressed to her skull, Spencer quickly turns around. 
“Put down the gun.” Roni demands. “Roni..” Spencer says while lowering his gun. “Don’t call me ‘Roni” you don’t know me! Come on, Y/n, let’s go. We have to go, baby. Come on.” Y/n looks in Spencer’s eyes begging him to do something. “Roni, don’t hurt her. You don’t need to hurt her.” “You don’t know anything. I would never hurt her. I created her" "No you didn’t.” “Yes, I did you stupid, ungrateful, little bitch.. I can’t believe I ever loved you.” “Roni, she.. She loves me now.” Roni moves her gun from pointing it at Y/n’s head to pointing it at Spencer. “She told me so. When we were in the pool. She kissed me. Now she loves me okay?” “No.” “Tell her we kissed in the pool.” “No!’ Roni yells this time switching from pointing her gun from Spencer to Y/n. Y/n looks at Spencer hopefully to tell her the next move, when he nods his head at her she says, “Yes, we kissed.” Roni then pushes Y/n, and Spencer tackles Roni to the ground, grabbing her gun, and pointing it at her. “Kill me! Please. Kill me! I’ll be so much happier!” But Spencer shakes his head, lowering the gun as he says, “No, we’re going to get you some help.” 
Y/n is standing in the station talking to her publicist, while news vans are lined up outside.
“I don’t want any media.” “Come on, Y/n” “No. No media.” “Okay, no media. Let me deal with these guys then.”
After Y/n’s publicist leaves, Spencer walks up to Y/n. “I wish we didn’t meet under these circumstances. More normal maybe.” “Y/n, believe me, no matter how we met, I’m glad we did.” Y/n feels her whole body, warm at that, she turns her head, knowing Spencer can see the blush on her face. They’re interrupted when Derek yells for Spencer. “Hey, Reid. Come on, we got to move.” “Well, um- here, take this.” Y/n passes Spencer a receipt she had written her new number on. “Would you- if it’s okay with you, give me a call.” “Yeah, I would love to.” Rossi comes walking over. “I hate to intrude, kid, but we’re waiting.” “Yeah- yeah a second.” “So- call me, I’ll be waiting.” Y/n turns to walk away, but Spencer puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Y/n turns towards Spencer, he puts his hand on her check, Y/n leaning into his palm, turning her head slightly to press a small kiss into his palm, before walking away. 
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nordicmuse · 6 months
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Down by the River - Astarion x Tav Romance/Sm!t
After Astarion is shamed for what he is, he and Tav find themselves confronting the dynamic of their relationship, and if it can even be that.
Fading embers crackled as the group sat around the dying fire. It was late, and conversation had dulled to the occasional mumble about stiff muscles or the notice of a previously looked over wound. Tav stifled a yawn as she lazily spun a dagger between her fingers, having now cleaned it of goblin blood and polishing it until it shone her worse-for-wear face in the firelight.
Shadowheart rolled her head on her shoulders and sighed as an unpleasant pop sounded. Tav winced. To her right, Gale was nursing a sore knee, courtesy of a bad tumble, and sat with it out sideways, wrapped for support. They’d taken a hell of a beating today, but they were alive - more than what they could say for some of the druids and tieflings. Guilt still weighed heavily there it seemed.
Shadowheart stood on stiff legs and sighed, breaking the silence. “Well, I don’t know about the lot of you all, but today’s kicked my ass. I’m turning in.”
Tav opened her mouth to speak, but the rustling of leaves silenced her, making her palm her dagger. She relaxed as a mess of white hair pushed through the bushes and Astarion stepped into camp. His shirt was torn and bloodied from the day’s events, both his and slain foes alike, but where earlier they had browned as they dried, fresh bright splotches scattered amongst them. They were minimal, but undeniably there. He’d been feeding.
“Welcome back. Not that we noticed you were gone,” Shadowheart teased.
Gale rolled his eyes. “Must you go and do that while the rest of us are awake? We don’t exactly care to see-”
“Gale!” Tav whisper-shouted. She flashed apologetic eyes towards the vampire spawn.
Astarion rolled his eyes. “No, please, let him go on. You’re so very charming. I accept, but with a request of my own. You can’t eat in front of me either. Have to play fair, after all, and it’s hardly kind to rub it in that what I used to enjoy can’t sustain me anymore.”
“You should know to just ignore him by now,” Shadowheart chided him.
“Or better yet,” Astarion continued, “You eat whatever you want at any time, but if I see a speck of gravy on your shirt or a stray crumb, I’ll remind you just how inconsiderate you are.” His smirk did nothing to hide the pair of stained, elongated teeth at either corner of his mouth.
“You are vile,” Gale berated, raising awkwardly to stand on his bad knee.
“Hmf. Suppose that you are entitled to your opinions.”
“It’s not a huge favor to ask that you keep those monstrous tendencies to yourself. Though you clearly had no problem making it Tav’s prob-”
“That is enough!” Tav shouted, bolting to her feet. She pointed an admonishing finger at Gale. “You’re going to lecture him about what he eats when I had to watch you consume a pair of boots just yesterday? For fuck’s sake, find something better to gripe about!” she hissed.
“And you!” She turned to Astarion. “Learn when to walk away!”
A pregnant pause fell over the group as she stared them both down.
“Tav is right,” Shadowheart said. “We need to stop bickering. We’re all complicated. No use in pointing out what makes it different.”
Astarion glanced down at Tav, then brusquely averted his gaze. “Suppose you’re right. Now, if there’s nothing else to be said, I think I’ll be changing into fresh clothes and turning in.” As he stepped away, Gale scoffed to himself. Tav watched as Astarion hesitated that half-step, sighed, and continued to his tent.
Shadowheart and Gale excused themselves as well, but Tav stayed by the fire, sitting on her bedroll. Thoughts consumed her. Why were people so vile to him? He hadn’t hurt any of them. She grimaced. Well, not exactly. But she had let him. Of course she was aware that he had snuck up on her that first night. But she had offered himself to her freely, once the shock had passed. And, try as she might, she couldn’t convince herself that he would have fed from her if she had never stirred or simply refused. He tried to deny it at every turn, but that glimmer was there. Humanity.
And it made it all the damn more conflicting when she had offered herself to him again. And again. And again.
There was no denying it. She couldn’t hide the bruising or puncture marks on her neck, and she was admittedly lethargic the day following a feeding, but seeing him so rejuvenated made it somehow worth it. It didn’t make any damned sense. Why was she sacrificing herself for someone people saw as a monster? Probably because she didn’t see him that way at all. Not anymore.
And then something strange happened - Astarion had reeled her into a conversation about that fateful night, talked about how it seemed to have awoken an appetite (though he swore he had no intention of feeding off of Gale of Shadowheart), and being his musing, hypothetical self, he had asked her who she would feed off of if she were like him. And the answer came a bit too quickly. You. He’d laughed it off with thanks for the flattery, but she realized she had admitted something deeper than that.
Tav looked up from the all but extinguished fire, barely an ashen glow. Lanterns were snuffed out around the campsite, but the full moon illuminated the woods in a pale glow. She stood, muscles aching and face still stinging from the slash it had taken across the bridge of her nose and down her cheek today. She told herself she was just taking the long way around to her tent. It wasn’t her fault that it passed his. Besides… she wanted to check on him.
Her hand fell to the tent flap, hesitating as she was unsure of how best to get his attention when knocking wasn’t an option and she didn’t want their other companions to hear her call out to him. She pulled the tent flap back.
“Looking for me?” a saccharine voice whispered. She turned to Astarion’s tall frame leaning against a nearby tree, and dropped the flap.
She hung her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry-”
“Hush,” he said, a finger to his lips. He crooked his finger, beckoning. “Let them sleep. If you want to talk, I suggest we wander off some.”
She nodded, following him down a winding path to the riverbank, where the steady flow of water sang, drowning out their conversation.
“What were you doing out? I thought you were going to bed, too.”
“I could accuse you of the same. But if you mean to ask if I was feeding, then no, so you needn’t worry.” Defensive malice dripped from his words. 
Her heart stung. Was he accusing her of being appalled? “You know I don’t care about that - not in any bad sense. So then what were you doing?”
He leaned back against a large boulder, arms crossed over his chest. “Thinking. I might be able to be in daylight now thanks to our little passengers, but I’ve been a dark dweller for hundreds of years. It’s oddly comforting once you’re used to it. A monster can hardly change its true nature,” he bit out.
“You’re not a monster.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“You don’t get to decide that! I let you feed off of me. Why would I let you do that unless I gave a damn about your wellbeing? When I know you can survive off of animals, yet bare my neck and let you take from me?”
He averted his eyes. “I never meant to insult you.” He stepped away from the boulder, staring into the black water. “But even I have to admit that you’re a puzzle I can’t solve.”
“It’s not a puzzle, Astarion. I just… I just want you to be okay,” she admitted, surprised by her boldness.
“I’ve survived how many more lifetimes than you, darling girl? I’ve managed,” he quipped.
You feel it, too. You have to…, her mind wondered.
Tav stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Astarion’s arm. “You might actually believe you’re a monster, or maybe that’s what you tell yourself to prepare for the inevitable storm of assholes that can’t see past their own prejudices. But I’m telling you what I see, and that has to be worth something.”
He turned, red eyes locking onto hers. “And what is that?”
Had her chest been heaving this hard a minute ago? Her breath stuttered. “I see you.”
His eyes fell to her lips, she shook with anticipation. Was he wondering what it would be like to close that gap just as much as she was? Her hand fell to his arm again, trailing down to his fingers as she locked her hand into his. Was he shaking? Yes, he was undoubtedly glancing between her eyes and lips, torn in the middle of a decision. One she wanted so badly to make for the both of them - but he needed to be the one to decide. To be allowed to choose for himself.
After what felt like many moments of empty promise, she pulled back, her hand leaving his. As she turned away, his eyes widened, like the loss had panicked him.  He grabbed her hand and stared at her, uncertainty in his red eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong.” And she meant it, by every definition.
He pulled her body against his, lips crashing onto hers with fervor. His hands cradled her neck as he backed her against the nearest tree, all semblance of his self-control lost. Good. She didn’t want it. His tongue searched for hers, a different kind of ravenous, and he groaned pleasurably as she wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers into his hair. His kisses trailed down her neck, hesitating at the marks he had left on her. He needed to be distracted from where his mind was returning to. 
She used her leg to pull him flush into her body, an unmistakable hardness pressing against her. Both gasped at the contact. Her hands flew to his fresh shirt, opening the first few buttons, but he put his hand over hers. Breathless, he asked, “Leave it on. Please.” Shame clouded his eyes, brows furrowing. “I have… scars.”
“We all do,” Tav said, confusion riddling her voice. “Hell, I have an open cut running across my face right now. That will probably scar, too.”
Though his desire was palpable in the air, he pulled back another excruciating inch. “These ones are… different, to put it lightly.”
“From the transformation...” Her confused look softened, but turned to horror in her eyes. But not at him. At whoever could have done that to him.
Astarion didn’t say it, but he didn’t deny it. He backed up a step, though he looked physically pained to create the distance. “You don’t actually want this, Tav. You deserve better.”
“I want all of you.”
He grimaced. Fucking grimaced. “There’s not a lot of me left.”
She advanced, hand touching his cheek. “Then let me take whatever you will give.”
His eyes clouded with something - relief, resolve? But he nodded fervently and lurched in to kiss her like she was air and he was suffocating. She ran her hands over the planes of his chest exposed by the few buttons she had opened, wishing she could run them along his back, but respected his wishes. She would only take what she was given. His hands fumbled for her belt, unbuckling it as she pushed them down her thighs, exposing herself to the chill night. Her pants and boots were thrown haphazardly to the side, and they both heard the unmistakable tumbling and splash of something heavy hitting the water nearby.
They hesitated long enough to laugh as he lifted her into his arms, bracing her against the boulder. Tav cried out, biting off a moan as a long finger slid through her slick heat. Astarion groaned, producing the soaked finger in front of him. And sniffed. He was fucking smelling her.
“Oh, darling,” he purred. “I’ve tasted your blood. But this is going to be divine.”
Words couldn’t form as he sank to his knees, barely giving her a moment to realize his intentions before his warm tongue slid against her. She gasped, fingers tangling in his hair. She couldn’t help the involuntary tug when he sucked her clit into his mouth, working over the sensitive bud.
“Delicious,” he sighed against her.
Her brain fogged, and certainly not from the damned tadpole. But was it possible that everything she was feeling, he felt, too? It would explain the sense of mesmerized pride she felt.
“As-Astarion!” she begged, bucking her hips against his mouth.
He placed a steadying hand over her hip bone and broke away, causing her to cry out in frustration. “Quiet, now, or you’ll let everyone in on our little game here.”
Suave as he was, she knew. He didn’t want her to be embarrassed if she was caught with him. And it burned her, because nobody else gave a damn who fucked who the night before. Unless it was him, apparently.
“Let them hear,” she whispered. “I want them to know.”
“You say that-”
“Then believe me.”
She sank to her knees, shoving him backwards so she could straddle him. She unlaced his leather pants, growing frustrated with them and allowing him to free himself. He groaned at the relief from the confines, and need radiated in her core like alchemist’s fire. He was going to be the death of her, but not in the way he worried about.
Her hand encompassed him, and he jolted, lips parting. “Darling, I don’t mean to rush you, but I’m afraid you’re going to spoil your own fun if you keep that up.”
A smirk played at Tav’s lips. “Been a while?”
“What can I say? I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being kidnapped and turned into a nursery.” But the sharp, joking tone of his voice dropped. “But, yes. I don’t often take people to bed. Despite Gale’s prodding, I do still have impulse control, and I don’t seem to enjoy meaningless little trysts.”
She hesitated. “Are you saying this means something?”
“Please, don’t make me answer that tonight. But I think you already know that answer, even if I can’t bring myself to say it.”
“I understand.”
He took her hand, holding it between them. “Thank you.”
He coaxed her off of him and kneeled, closing his eyes as he unfastened the last buttons of his shirt.
“Astar-”
“I know what I said. And I have no plans of letting you see that. Not tonight, maybe not ever… but I’m not about to bed you on the cold ground,” he explained, pushing the white shirt off his shoulders and laying it on the ground. He beckoned her closer, drawing her into another fervent kiss and laying her onto the thin fabric. He kneeled over her, supporting himself on his forearms. They both sighed as his cock nudged her entrance. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Thank Gods.”
He pushed into her, sinking in inch by inch until his hips were flush with hers. Tav gasped, hooking her arms around him. She felt the marks a moment too late, and her eyes flew open, boring into his. But he was just watching her, studying her like he was waiting for regret to ebb into her eyes. It never came.
Her body ached from more than the ass beating she had taken today. It ached for him, wanted him impossibly closer. Her hips bucked as she tried to draw him in, causing his breath to stutter as his gaze grew hazy, setting a steady rhythm rocking into her.
“Astarion, fuck-” she gasped, pulling him flush to her chest. “I need you. Please.”
“Darling, you have me,” he rasped, punctuating the thought with a tantalizing grind of his hips that rubbed her clit as he moved. His movements grew feral as he kissed her fervently, head dipping down to her neck. She groaned at the distinct feel of his teeth grazing her neck. And though she knew he only did it to heighten her senses…
“I want- want you to- fuck… I want you to feed on me,” she begged.
Astarion’s hips stuttered as if the thought alone was going to drive him over the edge.
“Tav, now isn’t the time. I’ve had enough to satiate me.”
“But not enough to fill you. And you said it yourself - it can be extremely pleasurable in the right circumstances. And I want to give it.”
“Are you sure?” he breathed, eyes wide with doubt even as his hips rolled slowly against hers.
Her hands guided him to the healing bruise on her neck, and a moment passed where she questioned if he would accept her offer. And then a sharp sting radiated pain thorough her neck and shoulder. Pain and wooziness and… yes, that. She quivered, surrendering to his touch, to everything that was him. She would die for this, would beg for it without shame. She was his, whether his heart understood that or not. Even if it never did.
Her stomach tightened, release a cliff edge she just needed the slightest push towards… Maybe their minds were more interconnected than she thought. “Come for me,” Astarion groaned, reaching down to rub her clit and punctuating the thought with sharp, dizzying thrusts.  And the world shattered.
“Astarion!” Tav screamed, orgasm ripping through her like earth-shattering magic.
He panted against her, pushed her legs up to drive into her impossibly deeper, sweat beading on his forehead. She gasped, sensitive from her climax, and fell deliriously into a second one as he groaned, burying himself to the hilt and stilling, cock twitching inside of her as he finally broke apart.
He stilled, lowering her legs and bracing himself, eyes closed as he fought for breath. He slid out of her slowly, regretfully, and fell to the ground beside her. He pulled her into him, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, damp with sweat.
Laying on his stomach, he tucked an arm under his head and turned tired but sated eyes on her. No, more than sated. Adoring.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered, disbelief heavy in his eyes.
“So are you. Wonderful and handsome and smarmy and arrogant sometimes… but amazing. I meant it. I see you, Astarion.”
His throat bobbed, then his gaze fell to the dirty, frumpy shirt they were lying on. As if realizing his position suddenly, he swore, jolting upright and turning his scarred back away.
“Damn it. I’m sorry. I truly didn’t mean for you to see that. You just…,” he sighed, “make it too easy to let my guard down.”
Tav pulled herself into a sitting position. “I don’t mind it, Astarion.” She cupped his cheek, directing his eyes to hers. “And, for whatever it’s worth… you’re beautiful. Unique. Something I want to spend a thousand nights mapping out.”
He smiled. “Then you’d be the first. And some horrible, selfish part of me wants you to be the last,” he admitted softly.
Tav leaned forward, wiping a droplet of her own blood from the corner of his mouth.
“I think I would join you in that eternity. We’ll find a way to make this work, if that’s what you want, too. I promise.”
“I… I believe you,” he breathed, pulling her into his arms.
“We should get back to camp. I’m sure tomorrow can’t wait to kick our asses again, and we both need rest.”
They dressed in silence, minus one boot that might have accidentally somehow ended up in the river. He apologized, but she could only laugh. He surprised her when he outstretched a hand. She took it as they strode silently back into camp.
With his tent just past hers, Astarion hesitated outside of her tent, lingering. Their hands stayed locked as he pressed his forehead to hers appreciatively. “Goodnight, you strange and wonderful thing,” he mused, smiling down at her.
It was a reach, but she couldn’t just let him walk away. It was some agonizing fear that if he left now, he would convince himself that this was all just for fun, that this was a distraction for both of them. “Stay,” she asked, searching his eyes.
“If I stay, the others-”
“I don’t care. Stay.”
Slowly, he nodded. “Alright.”
She fell asleep in the folds of his arms, not minding the dirty shirt he slept in. Hopefully he would ease about his back scars over time with her, reveal more of the history, but she was just content to be held by him tonight, and hopefully many nights after. And Astarion slept peacefully beside her for the first time in many long nights.
She woke to his gentle gaze roaming over her, taking in her face, her hair, her breathing. He adjusted as she stirred, almost apologetic.
“Good morning,” Tav murmured, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“Good morning. I apologize for staring, but… I wasn’t convinced it was real when I woke up this morning. I’m still not.”
Sleepily, she moved forward and pressed her lips softly to his.
He sighed, relief melting over him. “Thank Gods.”
Between his hands running through her hair and his adoring words, she drifted back into the daze between sleep and waking. Just resting her eyes a bit longer…
Except when she opened them again, Astarion was gone. The distinct voices of Gale and Shadowheart filtered through the tent walls. Camp was awake. Had he snuck out unnoticed, still embarrassed to be discovered? Her heart sank at the thought.
She left her tent, strolling into the center of camp where Gale was cooking breakfast over the fire and sitting on a cut log.
“Good morning,” Tav said, nodding towards Shadowheart who sat polishing pieces of her armor.
The cleric nodded. “Good morning.”
Gale nodded curtly. “Morning.”
She knew she was showing her hand too much, but worry ebbed into her veins. “Has anyone seen-”
“Your boot. Yes. Found it by the bank behind your tent, actually,” came his steady voice. Astarion waltz into camp, throwing the soggy leather boot down by the fire to dry. “It’s, eh- a bit damp. If it doesn’t dry well, we can visit a merchant in town, no doubt. Or check at the grove.”
Her relieved smile met his content one. “Good morning, darling. Sleep well?”
“You mean you actually got sleep last night?” Gale retorted, shooting Astarion an accusatory glance.
If at all possible, the elf paled, but a snarky grin masked it well. “What gave it away, Waterdeep? Her beautiful sounds, or the shirt I’m wearing? Had to wear the dirty one I bedded her on top of last night so as not to wear that bloody one that upsets you so.”
Gale stiffened, not expecting the crass admittance.
“But… yes,” Astarion said. “Tav and I are… trying this. And I don’t give a single damn what you think. All that matters,” he laced his fingers into hers, “is what she thinks. What I think.”
Shadowheart smiled. “If this is what you want,” she glanced at Tav, “ I’m happy for you.”
Tav nodded, lacing her fingers tighter into his. “It is.”
Gale nodded. “Seems like I’m on the unpopular opinion side of this debate. Which also means that I might have been wrong about you,” he said, locking eyes with Astarion. Astarion nodded, and the conversation ended. A quiet agreement of mutual respect.
Hours later, Tav ripped at the buttons of Astarions shirt, shoving it partly off his shoulders so she could roam her hands freely over his chest. Her tunic followed swiftly as he laid her onto his bedroll in his tent.
“Last night,” she gasped between kisses, “I told you- that I- wanted to explore you for a thousand nights. This is only two.”
“You’re foolish if you think I’m giving you up after the thousandth,” he rasped.
She laughed, falling into their passionate embrace.
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celtic-crossbow · 7 months
Text
Whumptober 2023
No. 6 Made to Watch Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria Era Warnings: Attempted SA, blood, injury, violence
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“Y/N!” Daryl pushed and kicked at the gate separating him from you. The hinges were giving but not nearly fast enough. The men from the warehouse you were scavenging were merciless in their actions, punches and kicks landing on any part of your body they could meet. The archer was seeing red, screaming in frustration when your assailants stepped away from you, looking quite satisfied with the damage they had caused. 
You reached for the handgun they had forced Daryl to toss over—along with the crossbow and knives— but a boot came down on your hand, forcing a hoarse shout from your throat. Why weren’t they just shooting you both? 
“Daryl.” Your voice was weak and strained, the single whisper sending you into a coughing fit. You curled in on yourself with a groan while the three men whispered among themselves. 
“And he can watch.” A pointed chin was jerked toward the archer. The biggest of the three strutted down toward your feet, facing Daryl and undoing his belt. The hunter’s blood ran cold. 
“Don’ fuckin’ touch ‘er!”
“Oh, I’ll do much more than touch.” A wicked grin exposed rotten teeth before he spit in Daryl’s direction. “And you have a front row seat, friend.”
“Our way of saying ‘thank you’ for bringing us this fine piece.”
Daryl growled and backed up before lunging at the gate. It pushed forward but didn’t give. “Ya let ‘er go. We’ll be on our way an’ never come back ‘round.”
“Is that right?” The third man asked, spitting off to the side. Daryl nodded, remaining still in case any act of trying to break through would cause them to retaliate. His eyes flicked down to you, watching everything around you from your spot on the cold floor. You were still curled up, both arms wrapped around your middle. The three goons looked at one another, seemingly mulling it over. 
Then they began to laugh. 
“Are you crazy, man? You know how hard it is to find good pussy now?” The big man pointed at you. “And I can guarantee that’s some good pussy. She yours?”
“She ain’t property, shithead.” Daryl hissed. His knuckles were turning white from the death grip he held on the chain link. When the man made to turn away, the archer began to climb, going stock still when he heard the loud crack of a gun and ricochet of a bullet hitting the concrete. Wide blue eyes zoned in on the gun now pointed at your head. 
“Get on down, fella.” Daryl did as he was told, hands up the moment his boots hit the ground. “Now, the way I see it is you got three choices. One, you can try that shit again, and we’ll put a bullet in her head and then one in yours. Two, you can stand there and let us have our fun. We may even give her back afterward. Can’t promise she’ll be of any use to you, though.” Daryl was shaking, fists clenched at his sides. “Or three. You can leave. No harm, no foul. But we’ll keep her.”
“Fuck you.” You spat from the ground. The man above you gave you a look that broke into the most malicious expression of intent you’d ever seen. 
“Oh, you will be, sweetheart. Me and my boys, here.” You held your rage in your eyes, never giving an inch before he looked back to Daryl. “What’s it gonna be, man?”
The archer said nothing, but his eyes said everything. Someone was dying there today. 
“Let him play his little game.” The big man scoffed. He made his way to you in three strides, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull you up from the floor. “We’ll play ours. If he tries anything, shoot him. Marvin, hold onto her hands.” 
You struggled in the largest man’s grip. Harry, you had learned from the nonsensical conversation they were having while binding your wrists. The one with the gun on Daryl was David. 
“If you want to keep all your teeth, I suggest you don’t try to bite.” Harry warned, not giving you much time to process before his mouth was on yours. He reeked of stale beer and tobacco and tasted worse. Your first instinct was to clamp down on his foul tongue, an instinct that you had to fight. You refused to reciprocate, simply allowing him to kiss you while tears leaked from the corner of your eyes. Daryl would save you. This would be over soon. 
“Ha! He left!” David chortled, just before you felt a tight grip on your ass. Harry pulled his mouth away quickly, and you fought the urge to gag. 
“Wait your turn!” Harry spat, pulling you closer so he could reach over your shoulder and shove the other back. When David continued the shoving match, you were roughly thrown toward Marvin and then pushed to the floor for him to attempt to break up the argument. 
Your entire body ached but that pain was nothing compared to the agony in your chest as your eyes remained frozen on the empty spot where Daryl had been standing. ‘He left me. He…he left me.’ With a sob, you forced yourself to your hands and knees, crawling toward the concealing darkness of the warehouse’s inner walls. 
“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” A large hand twisted into your hair and wrenched back your head, forcing you up on your knees to relieve the pressure. 
“Please. Please, just let me go!” You begged. Your hands held tightly to Harry’s wrists while he dragged you back toward the other two men. 
“Oh, honey, there is no way we are—” He fell silent. An engine roared in the distance, the sound becoming louder at an alarming rate. “What the hell?” His grip disappeared, giving you one opportunity. The concrete stung your palms and knees but this time, you made it to a dark area of empty crates and shielded yourself behind one just as the rusted cement truck barreled through the gate. Sparks flew from the exterior when the onslaught of bullets hit, the windshield shattering. 
David didn’t move in time and was crushed beneath the tires. Harry and Marvin continued to fire even after the thing had crashed into the wall, partially breaking through to the outside. Your breathing picked up when Marvin grabbed the door handle and pulled back to find…a walker tied to the steering wheel and a brick on the accelerator. 
“Put that thing down!” Harry hissed at the same time his friend fired into the corpse’s skull. 
While he reached in to switch off the engine, movement caught your eye. Your chin quivered, the whimper that left you impossible to suppress. 
Daryl was picking up his crossbow and knife, flipping the latter in his hand to quickly throw it. Marvin dropped like a dead weight. Harry watched his friend fall from the door of the truck before he spun and looked around wildly. The crossbow was already aimed and Daryl was stalking forward, the weapon trembling. 
“Where is she?!” The bowman roared. 
“I-I-I don’t know! I swear, I lost track of her!” 
A bolt pierced his shoulder. 
“Wrong answer! Where is she?!” Crossbow forgotten, Daryl was pointing your handgun at the man (when had he pick that up?!), nearly on top of him now.
“I lost her!”
A bullet to the leg. You flinched when the gun fired and Harry screamed, the large man who had loomed over you now reduced to writhing on the cold floor. 
Daryl now cast a terrifying shadow over him. “Did ya kill ‘er?”
“No! No, we didn’t touch her!”
“Oh, but ya did.” You hardly recognized your partner’s voice, spitting venom with every syllable. “M’gonna ask one more time.” The gun pressed into Harry’s forehead. “Where. Is. She?”
“Daryl.” 
His head snapped up, eyes searching frantically before landing on you, just beside the crates and still on your hands and knees. Harry had a single moment to appear relieved as Daryl began walking away, but the gun was lifted and a single shot was fired into the man’s head without the archer so much as looking back. 
You reached one hand out for him, releasing a sob the moment his fingers wrapped around it. Daryl kneeled in front of you and pulled you against him, relief evident on his face. 
“Thought I lost ya.” He murmured into your hair. 
“I thought you left me.” You admitted quietly, losing the battle against the tears stinging your eyes. He pulled you back, willing you to look at him. When you managed to, you found those electric blue orbs filled to the brim with unshed tears and so many emotions that you felt suffocated by the intensity of his gaze. 
“Never.” He brought a hand to your face, careful of the bruises and cuts. “M’never leavin’ ya behind. Y’hear me?” You nodded softly and then again with more vigor, letting yourself be pulled back into his arms. 
“I wanna go home, Daryl.” You whispered, your hands fisting into his vest. “Please, take me home.” Adrenaline began ebbing away and you found yourself growing more tired by the second. You barely noticed when he swept you off the floor and began carrying you out. 
“Take ya anywhere ya need, Sunshine.”
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straykids-97 · 7 months
Note
Yunho's natal chart indicates he'd be into CNC and it just fits so well.
Just being able to have full control over you and treat you like his property...
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Listen.
Listen.
LISTEN.
LISTEN!
You can’t do this to me Ruby 😭. Your natal charts only confirm my suspicions of how they (could potentially) act.
NEVER TRUST A GOLDEN RETRIEVER TYPE‼️
They act alllll sweet in public, hugging you and smiling and shit. Then they get you home and 180° your ass and then you turn around and they giving you the glare.
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If you haven’t read @whatudowhennooneseesyou natal chart yet for Yunho, then for context plz STOP READING THIS AND GO THERE FOR REFERENCE!!
Here, I’ll help you out: NSFW YUNHO NATAL CHART
I am a firm believer AND supporter of HARD Dom Yunho. 🧎🏻‍♀️
Control
Dancing on the edge of obedience and disobedience is something of a fine art. Especially when it comes to you and Yunho.
As much as you love the consequences, you hate the way he glared at you when you did the exact opposite of what he asked of you. It almost made your skin crawl.
However, you were far more needy today and you were willing to literally do anything for even and iota of Yunho’s attention. Even if it was something you had never done before.
Yunho is sat at his desk, headphones over his ears, playing a game with the boys. You stand next to him, a familiar leather piece of jewelry that you only wore on occasion. At first, you weren’t sure if he even noticed you. But after dying and having a few moments to spare, he turns to you. The look in his eyes said it all; he was annoyed. He had been dealing with your bratty ass all morning, and he honestly didn’t want to spend the afternoon doing it either.
“What?” He gives you a quick once over, before his eyes do a double take to what’s in your hands. You watch as Yunho’s eyes slowly rake back up to your face, “Oh?” You bite your lip, unsure of what to say. “Are you sure?” He leans back in his chair, muting his mic before going on. “You understand what it means when you have that on, right?” You feebly nod, jumping slightly when he snaps at you, “Words.” His were sharp and concise, like a knife.
“Yes.” You feel his large hand wrap around your wrist, yanking you forward into his body. You catch yourself before you fall, and then he wraps his free hand around your throat, “Yes, what?”
“Yes, Daddy.” A sly grin spreads over his face as he slowly takes the soft pink collar from your hands. “Hold your hair.” You stand there, pulling your hair into your hands and allow him to pull the collar around your throat. You gulp, feeling it tighten in place as he snaps it in the front of your neck.
You take a deep breath as his hands wrap around your throat, squeezing. “Now leave.” He snaps. An icy shiver for anticipation runs down your spine and you promptly leave his room.
Wearing the collar meant that he could do whatever he wanted to you, when he wanted to. He didn’t need permission, he already had it. As long as the collar was around your neck, he could come to you in the middle of the night and do whatever his deprived brain could think of.
You were washing dishes from dinner when he finally caught you, your shenanigans finally catching up to you. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and yanked you backward, causing you to stumble. “Ah- Yunho!” You gasp, holding his wrist as he pinned you to the counter.
“Shut up!” He snapped, yanking your pants down to your thighs, proding your entrance with his hardened cock. “Good girls get to choose,” he hissed in your ear as he rolled his hips, his cock gliding across your folds, “bad girls take what they’re given and shut up.”
You whimper and nod, letting him do whatever he wanted. He drew back, thrusting his hips into yours as he began to roughly fuck you into the countertop. Your hips were going to be bruised from the force he was exerting behind you. “God- Fuck!” You cry as an orgasm rips through your body so violently that you almost think that you passed out.
Yunho yanks you into his body, arms wrapping around your midsection, a hand going to your throat and the other to your stomach to hold you as close as he could as he picked up the pace. No longer focused on if he was going hard anymore. He was chasing his own high. “Fuck.” He drew out the word like it was a delicacy to be savored, and after a few moments, his hips stuttered and he ceased moving.
You feel the collar fall off your neck and Yunho instantly goes into literal dad mode. “I wasn’t too rough was I? Are you ok?” He preens, turning you around in his arms to see the fucked out look on your face. You giggle sleepily, nodding feebly. He chuckles back, “Come on sleepy head.” He presses a soft kiss on your forehead and pulls you to your bedroom.
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lacontroller1991 · 1 year
Text
Boxes of Dye and Boxes of Tea (Obi-Wan Kenobi x F!Reader)
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Main Master List || Star Wars Master List
Warnings: Obi-Wan being jealous, Obi-Wan being insecure (but not for long), one sexual comment (18+ please), slight age gap (reader is of legal age)
Word Count: 1.2k
Author's Note: I switch between POVs a lot in this, each POV switch is noted by a series of dashes. Anywho, enjoy!
==========
One of the defining rules of the Jedi Code is to be humble. Humble about your life, your wardrobe, your attitude and your appearance. It is also one of the defining rules of the Jedi Code to not form romantic attachments to anyone, let alone someone in the order and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi? He broke both. It’s not like he could control who he loves, after all, underneath the worn armor, robes, and tunics, he is human. And with being human comes human emotions like lust, love, jealousy, insecurities. 
Despite being trained in the ways of suppressing his emotions so as to not let them cloud his judgment, nothing could have trained him for the day that he sees you; his secret, younger, lover with a male about half his age. Normally, it doesn’t bother Obi-Wan who you talk to because he’s not normally a jealous guy, but after one snide comment from Anakin about the gray in his hair, it has Obi-Wan questioning everything, and seeing you talking with someone half his age? Well, Obi-Wan can’t help but to feel jealous and insecure.
Turning on his heel rapidly, Obi-Wan narrowly dodges your line of sight and rushes down the numerous halls towards his chambers as doubt clouds his mind. Would you leave him for that guy? Is he too old for you? Do you need someone more youthful to keep up with you? The questions storm in his mind as he looks over his appearance. He’s still in great shape, but he does note that he looks more exhausted than normal and his hair is starting to show his years of… wisdom. Sighing in annoyance, Obi-Wan frowns at his appearance. Just how can you find him attractive? Picking up a book, he tries to focus on the words but to no avail.
With a pep in your step, you all but skip towards Obi-Wan’s quarters, a present in your hand. After meeting up with your friend who grows tea leaves, you finally collected a large enough tea collection that will hopefully last Obi-Wan’s next upcoming mission.
Knocking on the door, you quickly hide the present under your robe and put a smile on your face as the door slides open, revealing a somber Obi-Wan with wet hair, causing your smile to turn into a frown of concern. “Obi? What’s wrong?”
—---------
Hearing the knock of his door, Obi-Wan cringes slightly knowing that it’s you on the other side. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see you, it’s more of the fact that he doesn’t want to be seen by you, but still, he heads toward the door and opens it, revealing you standing there with a smile on your face that quickly turns into a frown. “Obi? What’s wrong?” Sighing, he backs away from the door as you hesitantly walk into his room, closing the door behind you, not really sure how to handle the man in front of you. “Did the Council say something? Are you going on a mission sooner than we thought?”
“No, little one. It’s nothing. I’ve just been a bit lost in my head today, that’s all.” Seeming to not buy his excuse, he watches as you sit yourself down on his bed, arms still clasped together in your robe. 
“You can’t fool me, Obi. What’s really going on?” Normally, your forthrightness is admirable, but now, he’s seriously disliking it.
—-------
“I’ve just been feeling a little…. insecure, I guess.” You quirk up an eyebrow as you look around his room, trying to find something, anything that will give you a clue and then you spot it just lightly poking out of the trashcan in his refresher. It’s hardly noticeable, but you’re a female, you know what a box of hair dye looks like. Looking back over your lover, you notice that only two spots are freshly dyed, given with how unblended they are. The spots right above his ears. The spots where gray streaks begin. It suddenly clicks in your mind. 
Without revealing the present, you remove your cloak from your body and move to stand in front of him. “Why are you dying your hair?”
—-------
Obi-Wan lets out a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, but you remain still, trying to comprehend. Letting out a sigh, Obi-Wan’s hands reach up for your hips and drag you into him while your hands move to his scalp, lightly running careful fingertips through his damp locks as he loses himself in the feeling. “Anakin pointed out that my hair is getting more gray and that I’m looking older and I guess I just wanted to remain youthful for you.” He’s embarrassed to admit it in fear that you’ll laugh at him, but instead, he feels a feather soft kiss against the crown of his damp head.
“Oh Obi-Wan, my handsome, handsome man, please don’t change your looks for me. I don’t care what you look like. I love you for you. I love your humor, your wisdom, your sarcasm, your penchant for tea, the way you call me ‘darling’ or ‘my love’,  and the way you hold me in your arms at night. I love you as a lover and I admire you as a Jedi. Besides, obviously you’re going to age slightly. You’re fighting in a war and not to mention, I’m sure training Anakin definitely wasn’t stress free, so I really wouldn’t worry about a couple of pieces of hair.” Obi-Wan smiles softly at your words as you continue to roam your hands throughout his hair, lighting scratching his scalp.
“You’re right darling. I guess it came over me because I saw you with that one guy in the hall, who happens to be your age.”
“Who, Sid? He was only giving me something that I asked for,” Obi-Wan watches as you move your robe to the side and reveal a wrapped box. Turning around, you hand the box to Obi-Wan as you take a seat next to him. “Go ahead and open it.”
“Darling, you shouldn’t have.” Obi-Wan has told you numerous times to not get him any sort of gifts, but you, ever being thoughtful, never listens. Tearing the paper off, he looks down at the box before removing the lid and spotting a variety of tea bags, and a lot of them. “Tea?”
“Yeah, I spent some time collecting a variety and Sid had the last ones I was looking for. I figured that I could make you something before your next mission and hopefully it’ll last.”
“This is so kind of you.” He sets the box to the side and brings you in for a hug, feeling foolish about overreacting to something that he didn’t know.
“Anything for you, my love. And you wanna know something?” He pulls away and makes eye contact with you, a mischievous grin gracing your lips.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to say something inappropriate?”
“Because you know me so well,” you lean forward, your hands sliding up his thighs ever so slightly. “I really, really love your hair the way it is. I especially love tugging onto it while we make sweet sweet love.” And if Obi-Wan wasn’t flustered before, he definitely is now.
=fin=
General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @tavners
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shares-a-vest · 1 month
Text
@flufftober Spring Edition Day 7: Giving someone a present
wc: 886 | Rated: T for Canon-Typical swearing, some suggestive language | cw: None
Tags: Pre-Birthday, Eddie Munson is a Menace, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Cuddling, Spoiling Presents, Wayne Munson Takes a Pottery Class (it's only a throwaway line, but it's a headcanon I have rotting my brain rn)
Note: I just want to shout out the lovely comment @withacapitalp left on my ficlet from yesterday. It definitely influenced today's fic, as Steve reflects on the life he has in this AU. Thank youuu so much Liam for recognising an underlying theme/nuance in this universe.
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‘The Best Present of All’
“What’s got you all giddy?” Steve asks, watching Eddie practically strut across their bedroom as he heads for his side of the bed.
He looks ridiculous – like a headbanging, scruffy chicken. Eddie pauses by the side of the bed and rips off his loose, cut-off Black Sabbath shirt. He hurls it halfway across the room, the discarded almost-terrycloth fluttering to the floor as he jumps on the bed and lounges across Steve’s legs.
“It’s your birthday tomorrow, precious,” he coos, rolling awkwardly on his back and grimacing.
He brushes it off as if Steve doesn’t know the telltale signs of his partner twinging his back – never one to exactly take it easy after almost dying in the Spring of 1986. Eddie puffs out a breath to blow hair from his face and giggles.
“I bought you the best present,” he continues, looking at the ceiling.
“That so?” Steve teases, knowing all too well that whatever said material item is, it will be nothing compared to the mischief Eddie surely has cooked up.
And Steve is going to love every minute of it. He loves every birthday he gets to have with Eddie by his side – and that’s something that can’t be bought.
Eddie turns his head and grins.
“I’m going to gift-give so hard,” he quips, scrunching his nose and clenching his jaw.
Steve supposes it is meant to come off, well... seductive, or something – but Eddie simply looks like an utter lovesick dork with those glee-filled eyes peeking out from under his unruly bangs.
“Did you help Joanie with something, at least?” Steve chuckles.
“Of course,” Eddie says, tenting his fingers together, “Prepare for a macaroni-encrusted card and the wobbliest, most unusable coffee mug in human existence.”
“Wow,” he laughs and swipes at his partner with his pillow. Eddie splutters away, spitting like a cranky kitten as Steve chides, “You cannot keep a secret.”
“I blame Wayne for the mug idea.”
“Stop making fun.”
He tugs on Eddie’s bare arm – if he has the man shirtless in bed, he at least wants to cuddle (and stop his legs from being crushed). Eddie goes limp, forcing Steve to all but pull his dead weight upright and into his arms, mussing and twisting their oft-abused bedding into a crumple – the blue patterned lines now a wavy swish.
“But the old man is taking a goddamn pottery class like he’s Demi fucking Moore,” Eddie cackles into his chest.
Steve shushes him and presses a kiss to the top of his head just to be safe. He holds Eddie close, breathing in the smell of fruity shampoo. Feeling the warmth of his skin against his own – the touch of flesh under his fingers.
He shifts on the spot and bites his lip.
“Eds?”
“Mmmhmm?” Eddie hums and Steve can feel his mischievous smirk.
“Since you’re spoiling presents…” he wonders aloud, removing his hand from his partner’s shoulder so he can attempt to flick back the blankets, “What if I got one of my presents now?”
Eddie untangles himself and bolts upright, scrambling with the bedding instead.
“Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.”
They make quick work of slipping under the covers, righting their bedding as much as possible – even if it all somehow ends up on a forty-five-degree angle in their haste. But once they get settled, all cozy and warm and impossibly close as they roll into each other’s embrace on instinct, Steve feels his heart skip a beat.
“Eddie…” he whispers, letting his partner’s name linger on his tongue.
“Yeah?” Eddie whispers back, his big brown eyes glistening from the reflection of the light on the nightstand.
Steve shuffles closer, closing the already tiny gap between them and loops his arms around Eddie’s middle. He simply holds his partner for a moment, looking into those beautiful eyes – watching as Eddie breathes in and out and blinks. He leans in and presses a kiss to his lips, clinging to Eddie tight as he begins to kiss back. It deepens almost instantly and Steve hums, stifling a gasp as tears begin to prickle up.
Over the years, he has turned into a total sap, the waterworks turning on so easily sometimes that it worries him.
But he just feels so much – so much love – with his family. With their silly cats, first in Chicago in their tiny apartment, then in their slightly bigger but nonetheless cramped apartment and now in their home. A four-bedroom house with plenty of room to live and build. A house with a yard, a garden and a garage big enough for Eddie to jam with Freak on weekends.
The best gift life could have given him.
He used to be scared that he’d be stuck in Hawkins forever, working for his father and trying to please his mother all the while failing and remaining lonely.
But all that changed with Eddie. Even if it first started during that awful Spring Break back when he thought they might not even survive long enough to see where things could go.
“I love you,” he whispers when they break apart and come up for air, “Love you and Joanie so much.”
“I love you too, Stevie,” Eddie says, wiping a stray tear from his cheek, “Happy birthday.”
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