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heyimkana · 8 months

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24 Hours with You (Satoru Ver.) - Ep. 1

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: The first episode of a mini-series where you’ll live through the hours you spend together with your husband, Gojo Satoru. Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Genre: Domestic AU, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Humor Word Count: 8K Warnings: whipped, clingy husband!Satoru, sassy!Y/N, shoujo manga inspired backstory, endless sex jokes, and overall cavity-inducing fluff with a little bit of smut at the end (no actual sex scenes...yet)

Episode 1: Morning

06.02 AM

Your very much-needed sleep abruptly comes to an end the moment your husband’s alarm—not yours—begins to ring, his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to his side. You try to ignore it. You really do. After all, he just let you go to sleep three hours ago.

Granted, yesterday was Valentine’s Day and there was no way someone as insatiable as Gojo Satoru was going to end it with just one or two rounds of normal sex, especially not after he went out of his way, spending hundreds of bucks to buy you a set of lingerie that he’d been dying to see. He made sure to dress you up (you’re his favorite doll after all), his grin plastered ever so cheekily on his face. He held his phone steady in one hand, recording the way you not-so-gracefully stepped outside the bathroom in your new lingerie, dying out of shame because—“What the hell did you buy me?!” Which he casually replied with, “A bunny suit. Now turn around and let me see your tail.” To be honest, that wasn’t even the worst part.

(The worst part was when he said, “Now is my little bunny hungry for some carrots? ‘Cause I got a real nice and big carrot for you right over he—” He didn’t get to finish his line. You punched him.)

The alarm continues to ring, playing a song that you grow to hate more and more each day. “Ugh, turn it off.”

Satoru doesn’t even stir in his sleep, which comes as no surprise. He’s still lying flat on his stomach, facing you with his cheek drowning in the comfort of his pillow. He looks peaceful. Innocent. Even when his parted lips are still somewhat smeared with the color of your lipstick. And he’s drooling—in an adorable way, of course.

“Satoru.” You nudge his shoulder. “Sa. To. Ru.”

No reaction. It’s like talking to a dead cow. You groan, your upper body pressing against his backside as you reach out to snatch his phone from the nightstand. With bleary eyes, you turn off his alarm before returning it to the table. You fall back to the side of your bed, flinching as your body still feels sore from last night.

A smile forms on your face. Finally, it’s quiet again.

You still have two more hours before you have to leave for work. I can still sleep for one hou—

The alarm starts again, playing the same damn song.

Of course. How could you forget? Satoru’s the type who sets his alarm every ten minutes just because he’ll totally ignore the first fifteen times. Are you really this tired to not remember this? Yeah, probably.

You pull your blanket over your head. Maybe you can just pay no attention to it like your husband.

Just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.

Yeah, you can’t.

You toss away your blanket, frustrated. “Satoru, turn it off!”

Finally, the devil wakes up. He moans, his voice husky and heavy with sleep, sounding so effortlessly sexy but you’re just too irritated to acknowledge it that way. “What’s up with the loud noise..?” Sinking back into his pillow and tugging his bedcover up until it reaches his ear, he mumbles, “Honey, I’m still sleepy… Let’s fuck some other time…”

“Oh, we’ll fuck never if you don’t wake up and turn that damn thing off.”

“It’s your alarm.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes.”

“Toru, it’s literally Hatsune Miku playing.”

He giggles, still with his eyes closed. “I love Hatsune Miku.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” You repeat your motions, basically throwing yourself over him so you can reach his nightstand. Satoru lets out a little oof under your weight, groaning. “Babe, what—” You turn a deaf ear to him, making sure to sink your elbow into his back because he deserves it. Once you get his phone in your hand, you switch it off—the phone, not the alarm. “There. Done.” You slap back his device to the table. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You’re about to jump back to your side when a pair of strong arms tangle themselves around your waist, pulling you down until you land face-first on his bare chest. “I don’t think so, pumpkin,” he simpers, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck. Suddenly, he’s as bright as daylight. “I can’t believe you’re being so aggressive this morning. Did we not do it enough last night?” He puckers his lips, baby-talking you when he says, “Is my little baby bunny still hungry for her carrot?”

“Satoru, I’ll say this as nicely as I can. Release me now or there will be blood.”

“How is that nice?” He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. He’s hitting thirty and he still thinks he’s adorable when he does that (he is, actually, but let’s not tell him that).

Now, boyfriend Satoru would have insisted on holding you close, but husband Satoru? Oh, husband Satoru has gone through some pain. He knows better not to test you. He releases you with a sigh, his eyes drooping like a sad puppy as he watches you crawl back to your spot. “You’re so mean.”

“You love me that way.”

The corners of his lips twitch up again. “That I do.”

Satoru turns around to his side, gazing at you with the bottom half of his face concealed by the blanket he shared with you. He doesn’t really tell this often, but he loves seeing you in the morning like this. That silky nightgown. Those kiss marks on your neck and shoulders. The way your hair is so messy from all the tugging and pulling he did last night. You’re his masterpiece.

“What?” You ask, unable to sleep with how he glues his eyes on you.

“Nothing,” he smiles to himself. “You’re so pretty.”

At this hour? “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s true!”

“Well, thank you for the praise, my dear husband, but complimenting me isn’t going to make me give you a blow job at six in the morning, so can you stop staring and let me sleep? I have work in two hours. One hour and a half now ‘cause you keep on yapping at me.”

To anyone else, you would sound vicious, but like you said so yourself, this is why he loves you. To Satoru, you look the prettiest when you’re annoyed, especially when you’re annoyed because of him. It makes him feel special in such a weird way. Having spent all his life being objectified by women—and men—for his looks, and treated with endless flattery because he came from a prestigious family, you, with your feisty attitude, appeared in his world like a breath of fresh air.

(Or maybe he’s just a masochist.)

With lips curving in joy, he pokes your cheek. “Babe, babe.”

“Go to sleep, damn it.”

“I will after you answer my question.”

“Just one?”

“Just one. Promise.”

“Fine. What?”

“Do you remember when we first met?”

You open your lids, staring flatly at the ceiling above you. This dumbass is really trying to play his nostalgia card at six in the morning. You take a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He has stars in his eyes. Great. You know he’s expecting a long answer but it’s too fucking early for this. “Yes.”

“You do?” He props himself up on his elbows, his voice a pitch higher. He’s basically sparkling, giddy with excitement. “What was it like for you? What did you think about me? Did you like me from the very first start? Did the world freeze when your eyes met mine? Hehe, I bet you had a massive crush on me~ I see you’re not saying anything so is it true? You totally did, didn’t you? Oh my God, baby, that’s so cute!”

You just lie there on the bed, half-dead, half-deaf, zero energy and he keeps prattling in your ear. “You’re really not gonna let me go back to sleep, huh?”

“Nope,” Satoru replies, making sure to smack his lips in case he wasn’t irritating enough. “Hey, hey, answer me, answer me.”

Somebody kill me, please. “Okay, fine, you wanna know the truth? I used to hate your guts.”

“Eeeeeeeeh?”

“Don’t eeeeeeh me.” You pinch his cheek, ruining his pretty pout. “We couldn’t stand each other during high school, remember?”

“I never hated you, though?” He’s sliding his arms under his pillow, hugging it close as he peers at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve always found you cute,” he confesses, followed by a girly squeal. Satoru buries his face in the pillow, his legs flapping against the bed. “Aaaaah~ Saying it out loud like that is so embarrassing~”

“I’m gonna punch you.”

“No, seriously. You’ve never heard me saying I hated you, have you? And you know me. I hold my grudges. If I hated you, I would’ve made your life a living hell. But I didn’t, right?” He takes your hand, his thumb gliding across your knuckles before he replaces it with his lips. “I made you the happiest woman in the world instead.”

“With your money.”

“With my love,” he corrects you, flicking your nose. “Do me a favor and try to remember the first time we met. Didn’t I show you enough how much I liked you?”

The first time we met?

Okay, a little flashback.The first time you met him, it felt like you were living the life of a shoujo manga protagonist. Remember all those corny stories you read back in middle school? When character A—a female lead who was so clumsy, it was a wonder she survived the whole trip to school—met character B—the handsome male lead who seemed aloof and mysterious but turned out to be nothing but a warmhearted kid with a traumatizing backstory—in front of the school’s gate where they exchanged long stares filled with yearning and affection even though they just met? It always happened in the spring, for some reason, at the beginning of a new term. There were cherry blossom petals fluttering in the background, the words thump thump and syalala~ scattered all over the page among her inner monologue that went something like, “What a handsome boy… He looks like Prince Charming… And he has such long eyelashes too… Oh no, what is this feeling? Calm down, my heart! At this rate, he’s going to hear it!” Remember those corny lines? Yeah, well, your story went down just about the same.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt!”

“You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW I’M WEARING POLKA-DOT PANTIES?!”

Okay, maybe your story didn’t go exactly the same. But it’s true that you first met him in the spring, at the beginning of the school’s term. There were no cherry blossom trees swaying in the background because God hated you and He wasn’t that fond of adding pretty things into your life. Gojo Satoru was pretty, sure, but only until he started yapping. And knowing Satoru, he’s always yapping.

You had promised yourself earlier that day that you’d do better. Be better. No more running late to school, no more procrastinating on your homework, and maybe even try to socialize more with people (you shuddered at the thought). You didn’t wake up late that morning, and you went to school just on time but there was a car accident on your way there, forcing you to take a detour, so—

“I hate my life,” you grumbled to yourself, staring tiredly at your high school’s gate in your fresh uniform that was no longer as crisp and tidy as it was from all the running you did. The huge wrought iron gate was closed and locked. The students were already sitting in rows inside the hall, sleeping through your principal’s morning greeting. You had your bag slinging on one shoulder, your short, pleated skirt swaying as it was kissed by the wind. Your hair was sticking uncomfortably to your skin, glued by your sweat. So much for wanting to keep perfect attendance, you thought. This is the worst.

Little did you know that God in heaven was like, “Worst? Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.”

Because there he was, a devil sent from the deepest pit of hell. Your ‘Prince Charming’, walking out of a fancy black car and kicking the door closed without even thanking the poor driver. Gorgeous silver hair. Electric blue eyes. Piercing in his right ear and a bubblegum lollipop in his mouth.

Gojo Satoru.

He was a second-year student just like you but that was all you had in common. He was popular, so popular, and you didn’t have to think long to figure out why. He was a prodigy, excelling in both sports and academics, never failing to rank first in every exam, and it was so exasperating because he never seemed to pay attention to any of his classes. He was just born smart. And rich. Always carrying the new iPhone, never wearing the same outfit when he traveled outside. His Instagram was filled with photos of him taking trips to Greece and outer space (not true). His socks were made of rare breed silkworm’s saliva and his shirts were ironed by a dozen crying maidens (also not true). Apparently, his father was this big CEO who worked really closely with the government so you often heard his family name mentioned on TV. And, to top it all, he was handsome. Like unbelievably handsome. Even you had to admit that. Ridiculously tall, naughty smirk, pretty voice. He was the boy that Taylor Swift would make a whole album about.

Lucky bitch.

“I know,” Satoru said, noticing the way you were staring at him as he walked closer to your spot. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, gazing down at you (because, again, he was as tall as a tree) with one corner of his lips raised higher than the other. “I’m handsome.”

You weren’t exactly staring at him because he was handsome—okay, yeah, maybe you did. A little. “You’re late too?”

You had never interacted with him before and you were 99.9% sure he didn’t know your name, so maybe you should’ve started by introducing yourself to him. Or telling him not to be so cocky ‘cause who the hell started a conversation like that?

“Yep.” He plopped his lollipop back into his mouth, coloring his tongue blue. “But unlike you, I chose to be late. Needed my beauty sleep, you see, but you get that.” He stretched out both hands in the air, cracking his neck. A little strip of perfect fair skin was shown above his belt but you looked away, clearing your throat.

“So,” he yawned. “Are you going to climb first or should I?”

“What?”

“The gate, genius.”

“You want me to climb up the gate?”

“How else are you planning to go inside?”

“Well, true, but…” You looked around. Your usual school guard was nowhere in sight. Yes, the gate was quite high and you could hurt yourself making your way down but he could lend you a hand, right? It would be easy. You could stealthily slip yourself into the student’s hall after that. No one would notice. There would be no problem.

Well, aside from one thing.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt.”

Satoru arched an eyebrow before he chuckled. “You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

You blanched. “How do you know I’m wearing polka-dot panties?!”

“Oh, I got it right?” He rolled his lollipop to the side of his mouth for the sake of putting his annoying smile on display. “I must be a psychic or something. On top of my good-looking face? God really does have His favorite, huh?”

“Probably 'cause He feels sorry for giving you such a shitty personality.”

His jaw dropped. He knew he had a shitty personality but he thought girls loved that about him. “Well, aren’t you feisty,” he muttered, and you were worried for a split second that you might have upset him—not that you cared about his feelings specifically, you just didn’t want to jeopardize your connection with him (He was rich, okay? It would be great for your future career if you were friends with someone like him). But then, Satoru stuck his hands inside the pockets of his pants, leaning close with his lips pulled back in a cheeky grin. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Wanna go on a date?”

Oh, that did it. Those little chances of you having a crush on him? Gone. “Gross.”

“Ouch, okay, that actually hurts,” he pouted, rubbing the center of his chest where you just shoved him. After taking a moment to examine your face—you really did look like you wanted to kill him—Satoru gave up with a sigh, shrugging. “Well, whatever. I’m going in.” He pivoted on his heels, making his way toward the gate. “I’ll see you never, Polky.”

“Wait!”

He clicked on his tongue, turning around to say, “Yell louder, will ya? Our school’s guard is practically deaf but I’m sure people in China would love to hear what you have to say.”

“You’re annoyingly talkative.”

“Part of my charm,” he replied. “I feel bad for you for not seeing it, honestly. Now, what is it? First period’s about to start.”

You thought about it, your eyes flying back toward the double-door gate that was attached to the compound wall. It looked sturdy enough to maintain both of your weights. If you made the jump, you’d still have the chance of being the perfect student for the rest of the semester. But did you really want to ask for his help? He was definitely not going to let it go if that was the case. Oh, you knew he was going to be so annoying about it.

“Any day now, cupcake.”

Yeah, I’m not doing it. You weren’t the type who was so against swallowing your pride if the circumstances demanded you to, but if it involved him? You’d rather die. “You know what, it’s fine. I’ll just go home.”

“What?” He knitted his eyebrows, watching you spin around on your heels. You were truly a piece of work, huh? So stubborn to admit that you needed his help. Throwing back his head and groaning dramatically, he exclaimed, “Ugh, fine. Just give me your bag.”

“What—Hey!”

With nimble hands, Satoru managed to snatch it away before you could let the thought sink through. He carried it with one hand, not stopping under your command. You chased after him, and you were so close to getting it back before he flung your bag to the other side of the gate—and so carelessly, mind you.

You watched it land on the ground in horror. “Are you crazy?! I got my iPad in there!”

“Whoops,” he grinned, clearly didn’t feel sorry in the slightest. “Okay, your turn, Princess. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”

Ugh, why is this happening to me? Left with no choice, you made your way to him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He bent his body forward, exaggerating a bow. “I meant, it is now your turn, oh her Royal Highness of the Democratic Republic of Polkaland—”

You pushed him down by the shoulders. “Shut up and get down on your knees.”

“Oooh, so demanding~” he cooed, but his flirty tone vanished instantly the moment he felt your foot stepping on his shoulder. “Whoa, wait—dude, your shoes!”

Okay, that was your bad. Should’ve taken them off before you did that. Now his black blazer was painted with soil. “Sorry,” you winced. “I’ll help you clean later.”

“Yeah, yeah. You weigh like a ton, by the way.” Oh, you know what? He deserved it. Actually, he deserved more dirt. “Are you rubbing your soles on me?” He gasped.

“You wanted clean shoes, right?”

“Not by using me!”

You ignore him, curling your fingers around the iron bars. “I’m going up. Promise me you won’t look.”

Satoru sighed. “Like I said, I’m not interested in seeing your—aw, aw, aw, aw!” Tears emerged in his eyes. Not only were you stepping on him, you were also using his head to maintain your balance, gripping his strands a little too tightly when you felt that you were seconds away from slipping. “Fuck—Stop pulling on my hair!”

“I’m trying not to fall!” You regained your balance. Feeling a bit sorry, you placed both hands on the bars, gripping them firmly as you stood on his shoulders. You stretched out one arm, fingers clawing against the iron as you tried to reach the top. You got it. Now, all you needed to do was pull yourself up.

On the count of three. One… Two… Three… Pull!

Eh?

“What now?” Gojo asked, his patience wearing thin. His shoulders were throbbing in pain. You weren’t actually that heavy for him. It was the way you were stepping on him, treating him like mud that’s the issue.

You felt your cheeks growing hot, your voice reduced to whispers when you answered, “I can’t do it.”

“What?”

“I can’t pull myself up, okay?!” You yelled in shame. You had calculated everything except for the part where you barely had any muscles in your arms to carry your own weight. “I’m too weak!”

“And you couldn’t have thought about that before you used me as your doormat?!”

“See, this is why I told you I was going home!”

“But your bag is over there—”

“WHOSE FAULT DO YOU THINK THAT IS?!”

Oh, both of you were giving each other headaches for sure. “Okay, let’s try another plan,” Satoru said. “I’ll go first and I’ll pull you up.”

“Can you? You’re built like a twig and you said I weighed a ton.”

“It was a joke, Polky, lighten up. And excuse me, I have muscles, all right? You just can’t tell underneath all these clothes I’m wearing.”

“It was a joke, Twiggy, lighten up.”

“Oh, you little—”

“Enough, we don’t have much time.” You climbed down his shoulders, exhaling in relief once you were back on the ground. “Want me to give you a push?”

“As much as I would loveto use you as my doormat, I got this.” He brushed the dirt off his shoulder and tossed his lollipop to the nearest bin. “You just stand there and look pretty,” he winked. “And try not to fall in love with me too fast.”

Before you could land a kick to his shin, Satoru made his leap, making it look so easy that it almost convinced you to give it another go. He sat down on the top rail—thank God, this gate didn’t have any finials—with his legs settled on both sides to maintain his balance. He took a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure you were alone before he tossed his own bag to the ground. “Okay, I think we’re safe.”

Satoru returned his attention to you, and for a moment, you exchanged stares. “What?” You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. He just grinned, flashing his teeth and you knew he was up to something again. “No,” you mumbled out as realization dawned on you. “You’re going to leave me here?!”

“Abandoning my princess? Of course not.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Say that you’ll go on a date with me and I’ll pull you up.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Am not.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Well, this is your chance to get to know me,” he smirked. “Come on, just one date. I’ll take you somewhere fancy.”

“Not interested.”

His smile slowly began to fade the more you rejected him. “You’re seriously saying no?”

“Want to hear it in German? Nee.”

“That’s Dutch.”

“Whatever.”

Satoru took a moment to himself, both confused and baffled (and a bit amused, actually). But surely, no one would reject the Gojo Satoru, right? Yet, there you were, glaring at him as you said so. “Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek. You weren’t sure whether he found you vexing or even more… interesting. He accepted his defeat with a heavy exhale, just for now. “Fine. Call me Your Majesty then. If you do it cutely, maybe I’ll pull you up.”

“Oh my God, why are you suchan ass, Satoru?”

“Oh, the princess knows my name!” He claimed in delight, already forgetting the shame from your rejection. “It’s about time you tell me yours.”

“Yes, it’s Miss Fuck Off from Class B. Now, give me your hand and pull me up!”

“Say the magic word then.”

Oh, this isn’t worth it. This is so not worth it. “Fine,” you said, and to his surprise, you whirled around and walked away.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” His smirk faltered. “What about your bag, Sweetheart?”

You didn’t bother to look back. “I don’t care. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

“That’s stupid!”

“I’d feel stupider if I had to kiss your ass.”

“Would you prefer to kiss my lips instead?”

“Goodbye!”

You stomped away. For a couple of seconds, there was silence, and you thought, oh, I actually managed to shut him up. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back. You might not have your bag with you. Or your wallet. Or your phone. And if you were really planning to go home like this then you’d have to walk for five blocks, but! At least you got to leave him speechless. That was quite an achievement, wasn’t it?

“If you come with me I’ll pay for your iPad!”

You’re back at the gate. “Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand, your majesty?”

Satoru laughed. A genuine laugh actually came out from the devil’s mouth. It almost felt strange. Somewhere deep down, you imagined that he’d have a creepy laugh, or maybe even maniacal. But no. His laugh was so, so adorable. So boyish. So…heartwarming. It was the kind of laughter that would make you smile even when you were clueless of what he was laughing about.

“You’re funny, I like you,” he said, sending tingles to your cheeks which turned you completely into the typical shoujo manga protagonist.

Eew, what the fuck, did my heart just skip a beat? Gross.

Congratulations. You just had your first shoujo manga-worthy inner monologue.

Satoru extended his hand. “You better hold tight, Princess.”

“If you let go, I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Another smile, and there it was again. Your heart doing things inside your chest. You tried to find some excuse, blaming all of this on his looks.

Satoru pulled you up, holding you securely yet so gently by the waist once you reached the top rail. He held you close, noticing how you were shaking a little bit when you felt the fence rattle underneath your weight. This is strong enough to hold us both, right? You couldn’t help but worry. When you were finally sure you were fine, you began to notice the pleasant, intoxicating smell lingering on the little space between you. His scent… It was wonderful—sumptuous and warm, and you figured, that described him perfectly as a person. A mix of cedar woods and cypress, with a bit of sweetness to it. It almost reminded you of—

“The Last Day of Summer.”

You blinked twice. “Huh?”

“My perfume,” he smirked. “The Last Day of Summer by Gucci. You like it?”

“What—no,” you scoffed. “I didn’t even notice it. You smell like sweat.”

“Is that so?” He was definitely not buying your bluff, but he played along, just for a moment. Satoru leaned in, his right hand moving from the dip of your waist to your wrist, his fingers covering yours. You could feel the tips of his strands tickling your cheek, your body freezing up the moment his breath grazed your neck. You found yourself holding your own, your eyes closing shut when he took a sniff at you.

Wait. Sniff?

Satoru pulled away, scrunching up his nose. “I think that’s you, Polky. Did you miss your shower this morning or what?”

“I will push you.”

“Aaw, but then who’ll help you get back down?” He tugged you toward him, his face hovering just a few inches above yours. He tapped his finger against your nose, matching the words he said, “Not. So. Smart. Are you, baby?”

“You—”

“HEY! YOU TWO!”

The thundering voice of a man caused you both to flinch. Your gym teacher—Yaga Masamichi—was there, probably glaring from behind his sunglasses and fuming in his sweaty track pants. “What are you doing?! It’s your first day and you’re sneaking out already?!”

“Interesting point,” Satoru answered, unbothered. “We’re actually planning to sneak in.”

“Teacher’s office. Now.” He didn’t have the patience—or maybe the time?—to stay and lecture you both. He walked away, grousing under his breath.

You let out a heavy sigh. It was only ten in the morning and you already felt so tired. Unlike you, Satoru was still brimming with energy. If anything, he seemed even cheerier than before. “Well, it sucks that we got caught but we had fun, right?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Okay, Miss Grumpy.” He so casually ruffled your hair as if you had been friends for years. “I’ll go first.” He hopped off the fence, landing back on earth almost as gracefully as a cat. You wished you could follow his lead but from that height? You weren’t so confident. “It’s all right, Princess,” he said, noticing your worry. “I’ll be here to catch you.”

That was actually one of your concerns. Not because he didn’t seem like he’d be capable of doing so, but more of what would come after he caught you.

You’d be… in his arms, right? And then what?

Fuck, it’s just Satoru. You didn’t even care about him until now. Just jump.

So, you did. Without thinking too much about it, you removed your hands from the railing, but you didn’t jump toward him as you were too stubborn—and embarrassed—to do so. The chance of killing yourself over this was close to zero, right? You’d be fine.

You could feel your feet touching the ground. You were okay. Or at least, you thought you were. Your shoes, unfortunately, weren’t made to do such a reckless stunt. Your soles were too slippery, and like stepping on ice, you lost your footing, your eyes burned by the blazing sunlight as you felt gravity pull you down.

Until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist.

“For God’s sake,” Satoru said, and you felt his words reverberating from his chest since you had your face pressed against it. He sighed, removing one hand from your hips to cup the back of your head. “You should’ve jumped towards me, you idiot.” You could feel his long fingers slipping between your locks, forgetting to breathe air into your lungs when he pulled away, gazing at you solemnly. “Look, it’s cute to be stubborn and not want to ask for my help, but what would you do if you got hurt?”

It’s corny to say this (actually, everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes was corny. You weren’t sure why your life—and yourself—had turned into this state. You were doing okay before he showed up in your life.) but you were lost in his gaze. The sky above you was brilliant blue, so breathtaking as it was painted by God Himself, and yet… When you compared that to his eyes...

They’re so pretty… He has such long eyelashes too…

(You have got to stop reading shoujo manga. Seriously. Maybe head over to shounen. Blood, death, and eternal suffering—that would stop you from thinking about his lashes.)

Satoru was close. So, so close, that a butterfly awakened in your chest.And was it just your imagination or was he leaning even closer to you?

“Huh…” he mumbled out. Locking your eyes together, he gazed deep into yours, not romantically—though you were too consumed by his stare to tell the difference. It was more like… He was in awe.

You fidgeted. “W-what?”

“Your eye color changes a little under the sun,” he smiled, sweet and youthful. “Pretty.”

Mush. There was only mush in your head. And Satoru. “You—You’re too close! Get off me!”

He giggled, easily catching your hand before you could shove him away. “You’re blushing? So cute~”

“Why are you two still here?!” Yaga, the same teacher from before, returned with a volleyball in hand. Apparently, he left earlier to get his equipment. “Didn’t I tell you to go already?!”

“We’re going!” Satoru released you, clicking his tongue in annoyance—maybe a habit? “I swear to God, that man needs to get laid.”

“I heard that, Satoru!”

“I wanted you to hear that, Sensei!”

“Are you crazy?!” You slapped his chest. “That’s a teacher you’re talking to!”

“Relax, my grandpa owns this school. He can’t touch me.”

Why am I not surprised? Biting back your sigh, you took a step back, only to realize, great, I bruised my ankle.

He noticed, even when you were trying your best to hide it. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, doing as best as you could to walk without limping. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you never.”

He matched your steps. “Did you sprain your ankle?”

“Just a bruise.”

“We should visit the infirmary first, just in case.”

“We?”

“I can’t possibly let you go alone.” He sounded like you were asking a dumb question. “Half of this was my fault anyway.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you threw my bag—”

“Because I’m so handsome that you felt too shy to just jump into my arms,” he spoke over you. His lips curving. “Wouldn’t have injured yourself if you just did what I said. But don’t worry. I’m sure there will be another chance.”

I hope not, you shuddered.

“Seems like you’re in pain, Sweetheart.”

“I’m fine.”

“Want me to carry you?” He beamed at you. “Piggyback ride? I can do it bridal style too, if you want. It will be so cute, we can head toward the sunset together after school.”

“I’d rather die. And stop following me. I’m heading to the restroom.”

“Running away from me? Coward.”

“You want me to pee on you? ‘Cause I’ll do it.”

“Kinky, but maybe some other time.”

Thankfully though, he listened to you this time, returning back the privacy you’d been craving since the moment he opened his mouth. He watched you walk away, his lips slowly curving back up as a new sense of excitement and joy filled his chest. “Hey, Princess!” He shouted, making sure that you’d hear his next words even with the distance between you. “I’ll see you on Sunday!”

“For what?!”

“Our date!”

“Oh, fuck off!”

And that was it. That was how you met your husband. To sum up, he had no sense of delicacy, he talked too much, had no respect for your personal space, and the way he snickered every time he saw you? Ugh. Yes, he was pretty. Yes, he made your heart race. But you’re not that shallow of a woman to be with someone just because of their looks so nothing ever happened. Not right away, at least.

These childish banters and unfortunate meetings kept occurring during your years in high school. And as if that wasn’t enough, God reunited you once again in college. You thought you were cursed. He thought it was destiny. You still remember how you used to hold yourself back from ripping out his hair whenever he walked up to you, grinning from ear to ear while singing—not calling—out your name. But then you had this one class with him during your final year and your professor put you two on the same project together. You started getting to know him better, and you found out that Satoru had more sides to him, more complex than just a little brat who craved your attention. You got closer. You stopped rejecting his calls. You missed his cheeky grins when he wasn’t around. And when he kissed you when you were crying because your dog just died? It wasn’t that bad. It was comforting. It was warm. And sweet. It was wonderful.

(Yes, out of all the times he could’ve picked, he kissed you after you buried the precious family member who’d wiggled his tail for you for seven years)

And before you know it, he asked you to be his forever and you said yes. Immediately. Undoubtedly. Wholeheartedly.

“Earth to wifey~” Your husband Satoru pops his head back into your vision. The ceiling that you’ve been staring at for the last few minutes turns blurry behind him. You blink, placing your focus back on him. “You suddenly turned quiet. Is it really that hard to answer my question? Babe, if you tell me you forgot about our first meeting, I’m actually going to shed some real manly tears.”

You heaved out a sigh. “Actually, it’s the opposite. I remember it all too well.”

“Aaaw, baby~” He reaches over to kiss you, only to have you slap a palm over his face.

“Now that I think about it,” you say. “You were so annoying when we first met. And disrespectful.”

He blinks, sweating. “B-babe?”

“Not to mention narcissistic, selfish, impolite—”

“Wait, hold up—What’s going on?!”

“You called me Polky. You called me fat—”

“Wait, this is not the reaction I wanted—You’re supposed to fall deeper in love with me!”

“You threw my bag without permission. You never paid back for what you did to my iPad. You kissed me on my dog’s funeral—oh wow, you were a little piece of—”

“Okay, forget the past, forget the past! Remember that you love me!”

“I think you should go back to your side of the bed.”

“Babeeeeeeee, I’m sorryyyyyyyyy!” He whines, tackling you in a hug, and rubbing his face on your stomach. “You can have my credit card for today. Buy anything you want, okay? No limit.”

“Okay, deal.”

You shake his hand, and the deal is done. Mission accomplished.

“Why do I feel like I just got tricked?” Satoru pouts.

You gently pat his cheek, smiling. “Remember that you love me, honey.”

You can’t help but think that if cupids were real, your cupid must have worked overtime cause damn, what tough work it was to make you fall in love with his insufferable ass.

“Ah! You just thought I’m insufferable, didn’t you?” Satoru asks, squinting his eyes.

You plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I think about you that way every day, my love.”

“You are so in love with me,” he giggles, snuggling closer to you. “Baby, baby, I’m cold.” He circles his arms around your waist again, landing a cute kiss on your shoulder. You can tell he’s smiling like a child, hugging you like a child, and as much as you want to go back to sleep, you can never find the strength to push him away when he’s like this.

“Fine, we can cuddle. But keep your mouth shut. I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay~”

“I’m serious.”

He pretends to zip up his mouth.

“Okay, good. Stay like that.”

Satoru nods. He holds onto his promise. He keeps his mouth shut.

Can’t say the same about his other body parts though.

Because your husband is now grinding his hips against your behind, not too much, not too hard, just enough to make you notice that yup, he’s hard. His hands slip underneath your nightgown, skimming over your thighs before they press flat against your stomach. He’s so warm—he’s always warm—and every touch he paints on your skin is both comforting and provoking.

“Satoru,” you warn him.

He makes humming noises in response, basically telling you, “I’m keeping my mouth shut, just like you asked.” He’s bratty that way.

You sigh. You decide to let him be. It will take more energy to push him away anyway. Besides, even if he’s insatiable when it comes to sex, Satoru will never force you to do anything you don’t want to. You just have to ignore him.

Which is not an easy feat, unfortunately, because before long, his hands find their way to your breasts, cupping each one fully with his palms. He makes another noise, which you easily translate to “Good morning, girls~” (You know this because he said that almost every other morning). Giddy, Satoru finds himself giggling again, squeezing them from behind but in a way that is so not sexy. It’s like a kid trying out his new squeeze toy in Toys-R-Us.

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” He starts playing with your nipples this time. Again, in a totally not sexy way. He’s tweaking, pinching, poking your buds inside with his point fingers, and watching them pop back out again. He’s tittering near your ear and you should really find him annoying but you can’t help but giggle too. He’s so dumb for even finding this entertaining.

“You are unbelievable,” you say, turning your head around just enough to kiss him. You hope for dear God, you don’t smell like your usual morning breath, but seeing how he doesn’t smell like one and still tastes like the whipped cream he had eaten (off your body) three hours ago, you figure you’ll be okay.

You don’t plan to take this further than a playful kiss but when you feel your husband groan against your mouth, pleased by the way you close your lips around his so perfectly, you know you’re losing your battle, and you don’t care. Who cares if you only had three hours of sleep and eight hours of stressful work ahead of you? Satoru tastes so sweet on your tongue. He always does. And you’re addicted to him.

With a little push, you have him lying back on the bed. He has one hand resting on your nape, holding your head firmly as he kisses you deeper. “Satoru,” you sigh against his mouth, his tongue rubbing against yours before he moves down to pepper kisses down your neck. He stays mute, but only because you told him to before (though if you knew it would lead to this, you wouldn’t have said so). Your husband may have the habit of spouting out stupid jokes one after another in his wake, but he always says the right thing during sex. The things you want to hear. The things you love to hear.

You can feel him smiling against your ear, your body shivering at the sensation of his breath caressing your skin. You can’t help but expect him to whisper something, something that you know will make you curl your toes in excitement. Last night he had you begging to turn every filthy word he spoke into action. Today, he just takes your earlobe between his lips, his breathing steady but heavy. The sound of his lips parting… The little mmm when he sucks on the sensitive spot… You're losing your mind.

His touch no longer feels light on your skin, drawing out hushed moans from your lips when he kneads your breasts, his thumb gliding against your nipple from over your gown. A soft chuckle brushes your ear. He knows how much you want to hear his voice. It doesn’t feel right to you, feels like something’s missing. But he won’t do that. Not until you start pleading.

But two can play at this game.

You sit down on his lap, the strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder just enough to tease. The sight of the purple bruises he left on your cleavage the night before entices him. You’re so pretty. So pretty when you’re marked and bruised.

With both hands on his chest, you nibble on your lower lip, rubbing your against his hardness. “I need you inside me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, losing his battle. He starts whining when he sees you giggling. “Baby, that’s not fair. You never said that to me before.”

“Really?” You roll your hips, rubbing him at the right spot, the right pace. The way you move is obscene. The thin fabrics separating your body from his only add more excitement to your already burning skin. “And does Daddy like it?”

His face nearly explodes. “Oh my God, stop. You’re torturing me.” He sits up only to grab you by the waist before he throws you back to bed with one arm.

You find yourself laughing when he blows against your stomach, treating you like a child. “Stop, that tickles!”

“I asked you to call me Daddy in the last three years we’ve been married and you always kicked me in the face, and now you’re saying it just like that?”

“What, did you want it to be special? Should I go make you a bath filled with roses, put Hatsune Miku on speakers—”

“Oh, that’s it, come here!”

You’re laughing until you can’t breathe, your leg pulled and your arm pinned behind your back. He tickles your sides, his smile playful and bright, filled with mirth. This joy you both have, you’ve never shared it with anyone else. And maybe he feels that too. Because when he flips you around, pressing your bodies together, Satoru’s gaze turns soft. He leans close, gathering your face in his hand. There’s no laughter, no giggle, no mischief in his eyes, only honesty. His voice sounds deep yet gentle when he speaks, “I love you.”

No matter how often he’s said it in the past, how much he’s said it yesterday, it always feels like it’s the first time you hear the words. And it’s rare for you to say it back to him, but he doesn’t mind. He understands that you often struggle to portray your feelings with words, too shy to say it under his overwhelming gaze, and if you ask him, it’s one of the reasons why he cherishes you so dearly. Because he knows whenever those words do come out of your mouth, you truly mean them.

Like now.

Cupping the back of his hand, you press your cheek further against his palm. “I love you more,” you whisper. “Every part of you.” And there’s so much more you wish you could say, but will your words ever be enough to describe them all? It wasn’t obvious to his eyes before as you were good at masking your emotions with sarcastic remarks and mean retorts, but reminiscing those old days you shared with him… It really made you realize just how much you’re in love with the man you’ve shared the last seven years with. You’ve grown so attached that even the thought of spending some days alone without him scares you to your bones. And with the way he’s gazing at you right now, ocean eyes filled with the same amount of passion and affection as they were on the day he confessed his feelings to you for the first time, it’s only right for you to be overwhelmed by your emotions.

Sometimes it scares me because I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.

Even the simplest thought of losing you, of not having you wake up beside me in the morning, is enough to haunt me for days.

Stay with me. Don’t ever leave me.

I love you.

Satoru.

“I just… I love you so much…” And you hate that it’s all you could say.

But it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Because Satoru is blushing, his eyes turning round, his lips parted but no words can be found. He just looks at you, astonished by the vulnerability you display on your face. The honesty. The purity of each gesture. How beautiful you are…

“Satoru?”

He pulls you into his embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Hugging you so tightly, he barely gives you a chance to breathe and yet, you only wish for him to hold you tighter. You can’t tell just how much your words paint vibrant colors to his world—and bold red to his cheeks. “Are you planning to give me a heart attack?” He murmurs near your ear, a hint of shiver in his voice. “What the hell was that?”

You can’t help but chuckle. Embarrassed Satoru is the best kind of Satoru. “Sorry.”

“You kidding me? Say it again.” He returns the space between you, but only for an inch or two because that’s all he can bear. He strokes your face, his heart beating hard enough that you can almost feel it on your skin. “I think this is the cutest you’ve ever been.”

“I’m maxed out for today, though,” you say, wincing. “You’re gonna have to wait another ten years before I say that again.”

“I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes,” he smiles, gliding his thumb across your cheekbone before he kisses you. “My sweet, sweet wife. I’m so happy I kissed you that day. Sorry your dog died, though.”

You chortle. “Honestly, you couldn’t have picked some other time?”

“You looked super cute when you cried, okay? Sue me.”

“You’re so ridiculous.” But you press his lips against his anyway, both of you smiling into the kiss.

“Babe.”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have your tits back in my mouth?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Can I… also bring my carrot back to my bunny’s mouth?”

“Aaaaand we’re done.” With a little shove to his chest, you send him back to the bed.

“Wha—” He sputters, mouth opening and closing like fish out of water. “Babe—”

“I’m gonna go make some coffee.”

“No, wait!” He shuffles quickly to his knees, holding onto your wrist. “Honey, I was kidding!”

“Moment’s gone, Toru.”

“But I’m still haaaard,” he cries, and whines, pleading at you with his pretty eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll behave so come back to me? Please?”

You already have one foot off the bed, tossing him a look over your shoulder. “You have hands.” Tying up your hair in a messy bun, you step down, smirking. “Use them.”

“Babeeeeee~”

You lean in to kiss him on the nose, patting his cheek when you say, “Take your time.”

As you walk away, you hear him mumble sadly behind you, “But your carrot…”

Yeah, your husband is insufferable.

And that’s why you love him.

***

Next Chapter

Shoutout to @justasketch and @princess-okkotsu for being my first readers and for not throwing up from the excessive amount of cringe in this fic. Love you, babes ❤️

#gojo fluff #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru smut #satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fics #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #fics.24HourswithYou

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heartfullofleeches · 6 months

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Titus [Space Emperor Yan] and former Assassin Cat-Hybrid Darling. (Just a blurbo for now but I love these two now so I'd love to come back to this)

When the pair met, Darling thought Titus was no different from the rest of their targets. A self proclaimed god untouchable by those below him. Little did they know that their employers were basically setting them up on a suicide mention as the tyrant is a damn near immortal deity. As they perch atop his bed - knife planted in his chest, Darling counts their cards as a large hand locks around their wrist; pulling the blade out as one night remove a splinter. There was nowhere for them to run. The element of surprise had been swept from under their feet. They struggle and claw at the man, but there is no give to his iron grasp. As their brain draws to any conclusion a trapped animal may have, the knife in their hands is tossed across the room before they can take the final plunge.

The Emperor should have his little intruder punished. Waking a kind from his beauty rest is a serious offense. A crime in which the accused receives no trial and punished to the highest degree. Their eyelids removed so they never experience another second of slumber before their execution. There is also the more "amusing" route of electrocution or burning everytime they attempt to shut their eyes. Darling surely would have been subjected to this fate if they weren't so... So...

Precious~

Did this adorable little feline really think they could kill a god so easily? They insult him, but fortunately for them, they're cute enough for him to let it slide. The poor thing could use a bath though... And those scars.... When was the last time they had a proper meal? Oh, and those rags!

Titus scoops up the feisty kitty and thrusts them into the hands of his guards while he sorts through his closet for something to throw on until he can get them measured. Darling attempts to flee any chance they are alone, but with Titus promising to have the heads of everyone in the palace if they escaped - they never got far. Once they had some food in them and fully realized Titus wasn't bluffing when he called his home their new place of resident - Darling came up with a plan to lure Titus into false security and learn his witness to take him down when he least expected it. The only flaw in their plan was they underestimate their own commitment to the role as day by day their acceptance of the tyrant's obsession became less of an act.

They no longer had to work for their meals. Everything they could ever deserve was thrust placed right in their hands if they snuggled up to their new master or swished their tail just right in Union with those big adorable eyes. Their word stood above all in his counsel. They were waited on hand and foot by everyone under Titus' rulevIt was paradise. Their former comrades and the person they once were would be disgusted by what they've become, but if the former ever came to drag them back to their old ways they were swiftly cut down without so much as a passing glance from the royal that once stood beside them.

Titus is ever so glad he managed to bag that angry stray and turn them into the sweetest lil dear anyone has ever seen. He nearly loses his composure everytime he catches them lazying around in his robes - cloth barely clinging to their smaller figure. He knows they only do it to make sure he never says no to him, but there's hardly anything he would deny them beside their freedom. Whatever their heart longs for is a small prize to pay for their company. The Emperor is absolutely whipped for his little bedmate and would do anything to keep them collared at his side.

Assassin: You used to be something.... You could have lived a life similar to this without sacrificing your freedom if you had just taken his head. You are but a shell of the person I once knew. I despise you.

Cat Hybrid Reader: Hm... What you say might be true, but there's still something this life grants me that makes it all worth it

[Reader tears their shirt and knees on the floor closer to the cell as they shout]

Cat Hybrid Reader: Titus! Help!

Titus, storming down the dungeon stairwell: Oh, my precious angel. [Picks up Reader and checks them over for injuries] Don't worry, my love. I will have these awful, awful person executed at once. I'll have a necklace made from their ashes, but for now - will a massage and treats make do for leaving you all alone?

Cat Hybrid Reader, wiping fake tears from their eyes: yes....

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #male yandere #Titus my oc #tw yandere #yandere alien #yandere exophilia

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rafesfavgirl · 18 days

Text

two graves, one gun — r. cameron

sad rafe fic bc i just got my period and i'm feeling extra emotional :')

series: every few lifetimes

❝ so long, london stitches undone two graves, one gun you'll find someone ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after another night of getting coked out and passing out on barry's couch, rafe realizes you deserve better than him and decides to let you go.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: drug addiction, break-up, might make you cry, ANGSTY asl

the sole of your heel taps anxiously against your living room's hardwood floor, as you stared at the time on your phone's lock screen, which lit up with a photo that wheezie took of you and rafe sitting at one of the tables at midsummers last year, looking at each other as if you were the only people there.

8:30 p.m.

your heart aches at the realization that he had forgotten your date again, but the nerves that settle in your stomach win over, as you think about where he probably is.

pushing your weight off the sofa, you grab your car keys from the hooks on the wall, and dial rafe on your way out the door.

straight to voicemail. fuck.

you skip down the steps in front of your house and unlock your car in the driveway to get in, immediately starting the engine to get on your way.

you dial rafe again as you pull into the road—to no avail.

"damn it, rafe," you mutter, eyes switching between the road and your phone as you type him a message.

you: where are you???

when the message doesn't even go through, you let out a frustrated groan. either his phone's dead or it's switched off. you step on the gas to speed up, zigzagging between cars to get there faster.

you pull to an abrupt stop in front of a beat-down house on the south side, and switch the car off before hopping out.

"mrs. country club, what brings you to this side of the island?" barry stands from the porch when he sees you walking towards him, fuming.

"oh spare me the fake hospitality, barry," you tell him. "where is he?"

"where's who?" he shrugs—but you knew he knew what you were talking about.

"don't play dumb with me," you spat, attempting to walk past him. "i know he's here."

he steps to the side to block you from going any further. "maybe so, but it ain't a pretty sight."

"ugh," you manage to walk past him and proceed into the house, with him on your tail. "rafe!"

barry catches up to you and blocks your way again. "hey, i told you-"

"barry, you're really testing my patience here, alright?" you say, refusing to back down. you weren't scared of him—okay, maybe a little, but you weren't about to let him see that. "rafe!"

you push past barry again, and make your way further inside, immediately rushing to rafe, who was passed out face-down on barry's couch.

"oh my god, rafe!" you crouch down beside him, not missing the un-sniffed lines of coke on the wooden table in front of him, and pick up his head in your hands. "baby, baby," you gently pat his face with your hand. "can you hear me?"

"told you it wasn't a pretty sight," barry leans against a wooden post and watches you, making you roll your eyes.

"rafe," you try to wake him up again. "babe."

thankfully, his eyes flutter open, relief washing over you as you let out a sigh. "oh thank god."

"y/n?" his voice is barely above a whisper when his eyes lock with yours. "shit!"

you move aside when he suddenly sits up, searching the couch cushions for his phone. "what time is it?"

"rafe-"

"no, fuck!" he shouts when he realizes his phone is dead, and looks up at barry. "i told you to wake me up if i knocked out!"

"i'm not your keeper, cameron," barry shrugs. "just take your shit and go, a'ight?"

"baby…" rafe turns to you kneeling on the ground beside him, his voice much softer now. "i swear i set an alarm— i was just— i didn't think my phone would die and-"

"hey," you place your hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly to make him look at you. "don't worry about it. let's just get out of here, okay?"

he nods, and you stand up, dusting yourself off as you do.

"i'll meet you in the car, doll," he tells you. "i just gotta take care of something."

—

the car ride back to your house is almost completely silent, until rafe breaks it.

"you look beautiful, by the way," he says, eyes shifting to you.

you glance at him, a small smile on your lips. "thank you."

"god, i'm such an idiot!" he groans, clearly frustrated with himself over the situation. "how many missed dates is that this month?"

"rafe, i told you not to worry about it," you tell him. "it's okay, i get-"

"y/n," his voice is stern now, his eyes burning holes into your skin. "how many?"

you sigh, turning the wheel towards the curb to park the car in front of your house. "four," you answer, switching the ignition off. "that was the fourth one this month."

rafe scoffs and shakes his head, eyes averting away from you. he just couldn't look at you anymore, because he knew that even if you didn't show it, you were disappointed. not only at him, but maybe even yourself for putting up with him.

"hey," you place a hand on his knee, and he glances down at the gesture, before finally looking at you. "it's okay."

"how is it okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing. "all i do is disappoint you."

"baby, that's not true," you try to reassure him, but he doesn't buy it.

"it is true," he tells you. "and you don't deserve it."

not knowing what to say, you just glance down at your hand on his knee. "rafe…"

"no," he cuts you off, and places his hand above yours to slowly push it off of him. "i can't keep doing this to you."

letting out a sigh, you adjust yourself in your seat so you're looking at him. "okay, rafe, before you saying anything else— i love you, alright? there's nothing you can do that-"

"and that's exactly the problem, a'ight?" he snaps. "you're never gonna walk away from me yourself! even when i bought this shit from barry after i told you to wait in the car." he reaches into his pocket and tosses the small bag of blow in between the two of you. your eyes shift from it to him, the uneasiness in your stomach only getting worse.

"i have a problem y/n," he tells you. "and it's not the kind you can just 'fix' with love."

"then we'll get you help. we'll do any-" you try to reach out to him, but he resists.

"no," he says, motioning a hand between you two. "this has to end."

the words you dreaded hearing comes out of his mouth in one fell swoop, your heart shattering into a million pieces.

"what?"

"i'm never gonna be the guy you need me to be," he shakes his head at you, and if it weren't so dark outside, you swear you'd see his eyes watering. "and since you can't let go, i have to do it for you."

tears brim along your lower lashes as you speak, "no. that is not your choice to make."

"god, y/n, can you stop making this harder than it already is?" he pleads.

"can you stop acting like it's so easy?" you retort.

"you think this is easy?" he asks, taken aback by your accusation. "it kills me to do this."

"then don't," you say, voice cracking as you reach out for his hands. "we can work through your addiction together, rafe. we'll-"

"that's not your responsibility," he shakes his head at you. "if i'm gonna get better, i need to do it on my own."

you sob, "i— i don't want this to be the end.”

rafe glances down at your hands, before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

you lean into his touch, and a single tear rolls down your cheek—one that he wipes away with his thumb.

"i love you so much," he says, eyes closing as his head tilted down against yours. "i'm sorry."

his lips place a soft kiss on your forehead, and just like that, he's gone.

part 2.

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pandoraslxna · 5 months

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❄️ Kinkmas - 03. Lingerie/Stockings ❄️

Jake Sully x female omatikaya reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: teasing, age difference, face sitting, scent kink

Jake can’t seem to take his eyes off of you and really, who can blame him if you look like this?

His gaze traces it‘s way up from your delicate ankles, over your calves and up to your soft thighs. His eyes are automatically drawn to the bare strip of smooth skin between the lace-topped stockings and the fringe of those red panties. Your tail nervously curls behind your back, swaying from side to side as he drags his gaze up further, over the garter belt on your hips, and up your stomach and chest, to the deep flustered blush spreading over your cheeks.

"I‘ve got good taste, don’t you think?" Jake smirks proudly, stepping closer and running his hands along your sides and god damn. He had imagined what you would look like dressed like this dozens -hundreds- of times, but seeing it become reality is something his imagination could never live up to.

"For an old man? Yeah, sure…", you mumble, self-consciously fiddling with the lace of your stocking.

"C’mon. You look fucking fantastic, kid", he grins teasingly. "Delicious enough to eat, actually."

You gulp slightly as his hands tug you close by the straps of your garterbelt, mouth hovering by your ear as he whispers, “What about you, hm? What did you think of my gift?”

He nips at your ear and neck, almost causing your knees to buckle and you bite your bottom lip to stay focused.

"This is stupid", you grumble, blushing harder as your eyes avoid his lust filled gaze. "I look stupid… in those demon clothes."

Pants and a shirt, that would’ve been one thing, but you hadn’t been prepared for the matching set of human undergarments, lingerie and stockings Jake had called them, as he basically begged you to wear them for him.

Jake laughs at your response, catching you up against him by wrapping one strong arm around your waist. This is all too much, you think, embarrassment burning in your cheeks as you try to pull away, but he only holds you closer.

"Don’t", he then says seriously. "I’m not laughing at you, I promise. Love that you’re doing this for me." His hands roam down again, gently kneading your ass in both of his big palms and you can’t help but whimper a little.

"You look so hot, baby. Such a pretty little thing, all dressed for me", Jake says breathlessly. "You have no idea what you’re doing to me."

You hum softly, softer than you’d meant, and his eyes snap up to yours. For a moment, his expression shifts from lust to something more tender, and he cups your face in his hands, tilting your face up for a kiss.

The smile on his face then turns dirty again as he lets a low groan slip, "C‘mon pretty, get your hands on me, help me undress. You deserve a little treat for being such a good girl", he says, eyeing your reaction. You nod, all too eager to feel him properly.

Quickly, you unfasten his loincloth, allowing it to fall, and him to step out of it.

Perching on the edge of his bed, Jake spreads his legs invitingly, stroking his hands from knee to inner thigh, giving a slow tug to his throbbing cock as watches you. "C‘mere, kid."

You pad forward on bare feet, and when Jake leans forward, he places a teasing kiss to your stomach. A shuddering breath leaves your lips as he suddenly begins to trace his tongue around your navel and down to the hem of your lace panties, and it sends a flash of want through you.

Simultaneously, his hands are sliding up the back of your legs to your ass, hands squeezing your cheeks firmly as he hooks one of your legs up to stand on his thigh, while he buries his nose against your mound. His warm breath seeps through the fabric of your panties and you moan as it ghosts over your clit.

"Fuck, you smell so good", the words come out rushed and you’re almost scared he’s gonna suffocate himself like this. Not that he seemed to mind. "Want you like is", he groans against you, "feels so good against your cute little pussy doesn’t it? You gonna come in those panties for me, baby girl?”

"Y-Yes", you gasp sharply, and it’s all you can manage when Jake starts to grinds his face against your clothes cunt. He groans as his nose rubs against your clit, his tongue gliding over the fabric adds further to the stimulation and you slowly start to ride his face like this. Your hips buck against his mouth and his hands do little to hold you still.

It doesn’t take long until your hands are tugging harshly on his dreads, guiding him to kiss and lick and rub against the spot you needed him most, until it’s all too much– too hot, too good, and it’s been too long since the last time you did this. You can’t help the tremble of your thighs as you soak through the fabric of your panties, coming with a whiny plea of his name, while Jake hungrily groans against into your pussy.

By the way his still lustful gaze meets yours as he licks his lips and pulls your slip aside, guiding you to sit on his cock, you know that this won’t be the last time he‘ll make you wear those strange human clothes. But the delicious stretch of his throbbing cock as he slowly impales you on it, actually makes you look forward to this, even though you would never admit that out loud.

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #Jake sully #atwow #avatar the way of water #Avatar #Avatar 2 #jake sully x female reader smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully avatar #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #jake sully x omaticaya!reader #jake sully x na'vi reader #dilf jake sully

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rhadamanthes · 2 months

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The chosen one. demon!Toji x reader

word count : 3,5k

warnings: reader is kinda dumb, oral f receiving, face sitting, choking (very light), mention of spanking, horns tails and inhuman attributes, breeding, biting, obsessive behavior, clueless reader kinda, scent kink, soft toji, fluff,

You close the door behind you, happy to be finally home. You quickly take off your shoes making your way to the bedroom you stop in your tracks seeing a man looking out the window. At first you freeze and take the nearest weapon type of object you could find. But then you remember that you made a complaint about the window not properly closing in your bedroom so that must be the handyman that came to fix it! Odd that he's already inside before you but whatever if it means that you wouldn't feel the cold air seeping through at night you don't care.

"Hello! Are you here to fix the window? Did you find the problem?" you say in a cheerful way.

"Get out" the man answers in a stone cold voice not even facing you.

You freeze at his tone but don't take it personally. Some people hate presence around them when they work and you understand that

" Sure i'll leave you to it but can you just tell me if you find the-" "Get out of my house" he repeats louder not even letting you finish your sentence.

He's facing you now and the color of his eyes strike you, a deep green that reminds you of emeralds. Analyzing the rest of his face you notice the scar on his lips and his slightly tanned skin. He sure is handsome but his rudeness puts you off. And then his words hit you "his house" what did he mean by that you moved in a couple of weeks ago to get closer from your workplace. Looking around you recognized your personal items, so you didn't enter the wrong door. What the hell is happening?

"Huh i think you're mistaken I live here" you laugh nervously. One of his hands goes to your neck applying light pressure on it. You close your eyes shut, scared of what's coming next. But nothing happens and his hand is so warm it almost makes you want to moan. When you open your eyes again you gasp in surprise, the man before you have changed in a blink of an eye. Horns are now adorning his scalp and a grey veil has fallen upon his eyes but you still clearly distinguish the rich color of his orbs. This doesn't even feel real , is it a prank ? Standing on your tippy toes you touch his horns with your index finger to make your mind up. It feels like wood under your skin they're as black as his hair but glossy "Oh my god real horns". He dashes backward at your touch if you weren't so close you would have missed it. He is so fast. He looks surprised from your act, his eyes are wide.

"Sorry did that hurt, I was just curious I'm sorry" you blurt in embarrassment.

"Just get out." He growls.

You see something moving agitatedly behind his back, focusing you realize it's a tail as jet black and glossy as his horns.You don't have the time to make another observation that he is pushing you to the door. You dig your feet in the ground balancing your body weight back to stop him as best as you can. He growls still pushing you. Damn he's strong as hell. in a last attempt to reason him, You turn around looking him in the eyes.

"How can this be your house? I've been here two weeks and it's the first time I'm seeing you!" you say trying to sound menacing.

If you believe your eyes this guy is most likely a demon or another cursed celestial being that you are not aware of and he is clearly overpowering you so you better start to put your game on.

"You think i'd show myself with all these stupid movers going back and forth?" he tones angrily "No one has ever stayed this long" he says diverting his gaze from yours.

"Wait so the water damage was you?" he nods "and the power outage?" another nod "the window?" you ask defeated slumping your shoulders. He almost looks guilty nodding once more.

"Why did you stay through all of this?" he asks genuinely curious.

You let out a long sigh " This is working for me. It's close to work and the neighbourhood is nice. It's the best apartment I've ever lived in by far so a few technical difficulties doesn't seem like a lot compared to what I had before." You take his hands in yours shivering at the warmth again "Look I'm sure we can make this work, I'll arrange a bed for you and I'll leave you to your occupations whatever they are" you say hopeful, not being sure what demons do in their free time.

"And what makes you think that I want this ? I've been living here for more than 20 years" he scoff

This makes you wonder how old he is, his kind sure not age the same as human "Wow that's a lot of sabotage" you say, still not fully grasping what's happening. A smirk crosses his lips at your words.

"Fine I give you one week if I'm not satisfied by then you'll be out."

You squeal in excitement hugging his large body. The heat that emane from it is surreal but once again horns and tail so you don't mind. He is quick to push you away hissing in a cat manner before disappearing down the corridor.

✿ ۪⋆

You passed your trial week with flying colors ! Living with a demon was not as terrible as you thought it would be. He's calm and mostly roams around the house at night. You tried to see what he's doing when he's up but he always senses your presence and stops when he knows you're around. It took him 8 days to reveal his name : Toji. A beautiful name and yet he always seems surprised when you call it. Through the course of your roomating you learned that his demon attributes are most of the time present, You asked him once if it hurts when he hides them and he just gave you one of his dead stares that constitute an answer on their own. The difference is his eyes, they're not always in "dark mode" as you like to call it, the veil only appears when he has strong emotions. You find it cute but will never tell him he'll kick you out for sure or worse. Having him around made your day significantly less gloomy, sure he is not talkative and doesn't contribute a lot to the chores of the house but knowing that he'll be here when you cross the door makes you feel lighter. It's like having a pet. You chuckle at that thought locking the door behind you. Time has passed now and it's been almost three month since you first moved in. You could say that he warmed up to you, a routine installed itself. As soon as he hears the door click he comes to greet you in his own way. He takes the coat from your shoulder and sniffs it in various spots. The first time he did this you didn't know how to react just staring dumbfounded. Then he told you that he could smell another demon on your clothes and ever since you've been trying to figure out who could be one at your workplace. Today is no exception.

"Have you found it yet?" he asks, hanging your coat, you shake your head negatively. He then proceeds to dip his nose in your clothed collarbone. He goes down to your chest under your arms and down to your rump.

"Toji!" you squeal pushing his head out of your body "Stop doing this, seriously" you say trying to sound strict but you're all frustrated from his proximity.

"Your period is coming" he says with a sly smirk, his tail swishing slowly behind him.

Heat rises to your cheeks and you rush past him to hide in your room.Sitting on your bed and saying to yourself that you need to sit down with Toji, set boundaries and be firm with him. He actually listens to you, sometimes you go on and on about your days. He sits attentively making witful comments. The only problem is that he distaste being told what to do. You let your back hit the mattress, a sigh escaping your lips, maybe you need a bath first to relax before confronting him.

Robe in hand you enter the bathroom, you gasp upon seeing Toji in all his devilish glory lounging in the warm water. His head is laying back, his large body hidden in the water while his tail rests on the side of the tub. His eyes are closed but you distinguish a smirk playing on his features. The anger bubbles up in your chest, you stomp your feet on the floor.

"Toji! I told you to warn me when you use the bathroom!" you yell losing any ounce of patience you had left. His tail taps against the tub showing his annoyance, he always does this he even spanks you with it when he's mad at you for something you did or said.

"You're very unpleasant today, did something happen at work?" he says, yawning.

"I had a long day and I just want to relax so get out."

"Uh uh I just got in you better join if you want to get cleaned up" he states rolling his head your way to look at you.

In defeat you put your hands over your eyes, when did he become sassy ? The colocation was great this far, you're too tired to argue and you'll never earn his respect if you bend to every of his whims. Making a quick work of your clothes you throw it in his face to blind him while you get into the tub. The warm water engulfes your naked body, you're able to relax, still holding your knees close to your chest, hiding your breasts. You close your eyes unwinding at the soft sound of the water hitting the sides of the tube.A swirl of waves tickle your body, you open your eyes. Toji's back is now facing in your direct eyesight, you never noticed how many scars litter his body, you kind of feel bad, even if he's a demon he never hurted you, and even appears friendly from time to time. Did people of his kind do this ? or was he mistreated amongst humans ? Is it the reason he isolates himself ? Before you can ask your questions he shakes his head left to right like a wet dog. You understand his silent request, applying shampoo on his scalp mindful of the horns on top. The more you rub circles motion the more you hear a faint vibrating noise coming from him, is he purring ? You accentuate the pressure and it gets louder. You stop your movement, shocked at your discovery, that's so cute! His tail wraps around your wrist urging you to continue. You oblige, going for a few more minutes before you let your head rest on his back, tired of holding your hand in the air, he is so much taller than you ! Sticking your ear to his skin , from this close the sound you heard earlier is more like a fire crackling. That would explain the body temperature.

Washed and dried you tend to your skincare routine while toji lingers in the bathroom. His towel hangs low on his hips, you can't help but wonder if his devil attributes apply down there. Heat rises to your cheeks. You try to focus on which product goes to your face next but you only think about seeing him naked now. you close your eyes, biting your lips. A familiar churn grows in your belly you haven't got laid in so long you're about to act up. When you open your eyes again, Toji is right behind you, the veil has fallen upon his eyes, you turn to face him concerned as to why it appears now.

"Are you o-" "I can smell it" he cut you off. You gaze at your hand "The cream ? yeah it's a botanica-'' He cut you off again but this time it's because his head is crooked in your neck he takes a big sniff out of it like he's scared you would disappear. He tries to go down again "Toji! i already told you to-" "You're excited, i can fucking smell it" he reply looking in your eyes.

You're mortified just standing in front of him exposed, at your depravity. Of course he would smell your arousal, he smells other people on your clothes, so your own scent won't go unnoticed. He's bent over you, eyes wide, tail buzzing behind him like he's ready to pounce on you. And he does, locking firm arms around your back you're engulfed in his chest as he breathes in your scent from your temple down to your shoulder groaning in the process. Suddenly he lifts you on his shoulder rushing through the door. He crosses the corridor fast and drags you to his bedroom. He dumps you on his bed and you look around, he never allowed you in his space before. It looks like a nest, it's dark, the bed is in the middle of the room. Clothes are laying on the ground and they're forming a spiral around the mattress. You recognize some of yours that you haven't seen in a long time. You furrow your brows not sure about what's happening here.

"Toji what's all of that" you say in a meek voice. He closes the door and rushes to join you on the bed "It doesn't matter hm it's just you and me" he says caressing your sides.

You nod your head hypnotise by his behavior, his voice so deep and calm he's touching you with care he almost looks high, is it his state when he's horny ? He must really want you, but you want him to so you don't care. Placing your hands on his cheeks you initiate a kiss. You go slow at first testing the waters, and he follows. His lips are softer than you expected, you move against them in a soft waltz before you let your tongue enter his wet cavity. You lap at his muscle but freeze when you notice that there are two you break the kiss parting his lips with your thumb. He sticks it out revealing a forked tongue. You gasp incredulously, touching the tips with your index. There's so many things that you still don't know about him, but for now you need to find out how it feel against your clit

You untie your robe in a hurry, a devilish smile spreads on his face as he admires your naked body, he lodges his head between your tits licking at the skin, his hands busy themselves kneading your breast. Your head falls back at the sensation his skin is so hot against your own, a content moan escapes your lips. Straightening his back he lay on the mattress ushering you you straddle his face, you waste no time encasing his face with your thighs slowly putting more and more weight on him. When your pussy lands on his face you moan in relief, he nuzzles against it, licking at your fold never touching your sweet spot. Starting to feel impatient you grab on his horns pulling lightly. He groans, letting the tips of his tongue tickle your clitoris, you exhale loudly, his muscle feels rough against your sensitive part, his tongue doesn't glide on your folds, it sticks like scratch tape in your most sensitive area, the repeated motion builds tension in your belly. If you weren't so desperate you'd be ashamed to be ready to cum this fast but you need it so bad, you start grinding on his face holding on his horns. You close your eyes feeling your orgasm on the edge of a release.

"Toji don't stop" you breathe erratically

He lays his tongue flat against your clit as you keep humping it until your orgasm crashes over you. You're shaking uncontrollably and you feel like the air has been taken out of your lungs. you slowly regain your breath while toji bites at your inner thighs. You pet his hair and he pins you against the mattress extending his tongue to lick your cheek. He can do that too ? you grunt in both amusement and disgust. Positioning himself on top of you, he free his cock from the towel and your jaw drops. Not only is he big but the sides of his penis are rigged with bumps. You swallow hard not knowing if he is going to fit inside of you. Toji laughs at your reaction.

"Want me to go down again?" he coos, patting your thighs with his tail.

You shake your head standing on your elbows. Is it weird if you want it to hurt a bit? You want to feel the stretch and every rig. You've already cum once and you're so excited it should be okay.

"Then relax i don't want to mate with a wood board"

Hurt at his words you're about to snap back at him but he captures your lips with his. Laying your back on the cover he licks and kisses your temple, his hands kneading your shoulders you feel like a trapped mouse.

"Relax, hm not going to hurt you on purpose" he murmurs against your skin.

Tired of his banters you lock your arms behind his neck and bite on his shoulder as hard as you can. He moans loudly letting his weight rest on your body, you feel his cock against your tummy as he starts to rut against it, your teeth sink deeper on his hard skin. You push on his shoulders looking at him in the eyes.

"I want it please" you beg shamelessly.

"I know it, you smell like a depraved minx" he smiles. You cringe at the nickname looking away

He sits back on his feet, positioning your legs on his shoulders. He caresses them a few times nibbling on the skin of your ankle. He takes his length in his hand slowly entering your hole, your mouth opens at the sheer size. You extend your hand begging for support. Toji intertwinds his fingers with yours and you relax when he's all inside of you. The tears in your eyes are ready to fall at any given moment. He pins your other and next to your head crooking his nose in your neck folding you in half as your legs rest on his shoulders. The demon starts slow movements grunting in the comfort of your walls, the wetness allows him to glide easily. Your mouth is open letting out pained noises that turn into moans when he hits your soft spot. the rigs of his dick kiss perfectly your gummy walls. you let lewd moans escaping your mouth not caring about the neighbor when you feel so good.

"Better than your toys ?" he rasp looking at you through veiled eyes.

The humiliation settles in and you turn your head to avoid his gaze. You indeed have a drawer full of toys but he wasn't supposed to know. his tails prod at your chin to redirect you his way. You look at him through teary eyes.

"I- I've never been fucked like that before" you stammer

He grunt in response going impossibly faster, weakening your spot with every thrust. The familiar sensation builds in your lower part again and you cry desperate to earn it again. You kiss and nip on his cheek as a silent plea, his tail snake between your bodies to massage your clit. Your back arches off the bed at the double stimulation. You chant his name over and over until your vision blurs and your legs spasms around his head. Toji hiss as your walls clench around him through your climax. You lay limp on the bed squeezing your demon's hands encouraging him to finish. When he does you gasp once more, at the amount of cum he is tainting your insides with. You're both catching your breath and he lays next to you.

"So you wanted to talk ? Or you just needed to be stuffed to stop being moody"? he purrs.

You don't have the strength to answer, you hit his chest lightly. He catches your hand grazing his teeth softly against it. You fall in a deep slumber with a satisfied smile on your lips. On his side Toji can't keep his eyes off you. All of those times he heard you pleasuring yourself he wanted to burst in and take you there and then; But he couldn't it was too early instead he would dig through your hamper and collect your dirty clothes. Now that he has you, covered in his scent filled with his seed, he has all intentions to make you the centerpiece of his nest.

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tarjapearce · 4 months

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Iridiscent (Pt. 4)

Pirate AU! Miguel O'Hara x Mermaid! Reader

WARNING: Angst, mentions of violence, graphic depictions of violence, mild gore, political implications, character origins, character backgrounds, introduction of character, Greek mythology mentions.

Summary: The aftermath of a mermaid encounter brings an unexpected ally.

A/N: Pirate Miggy is back ❤️

Mermaids, sea witches, sirens, sea monsters. The latter was the most accurate name for what your mere existence rendered. And now, men eater.

Existing since way before humans understood the concept of civilizations, silent watchers of eons of evolution, yet unfortunate by the simple fact of being.

The permanence of the kin itself was a result of a fateful domino effect the God of the dead had unleashed by being invaded and bewitched by a mortal feeling. Love.

His whim had turned into obsession and this somehow morphed into love. A feeling so strong that made him kidnap the Spring goddess for himself, tired of the miserable companion solitude was in the underworld. And that was the moment everything changed.

The nymphs in charge of their queen's safety were turned into winged beings, as a punishment from none other than Demeter. Her wrath over them, ruthless and merciless as they were forced to look everywhere for their vanishing queen to no avail.

Some of the nymphs had escaped the aftermath to a recluse island, abandoning all purpose of finding Persephone, to follow the whims of their hearts in lieu. Singing and music.

But even so, Demeter's fury had no match, vengeful and blinded by anger she looked for the rebel ones to kill them, but these hid in the sea. Eventually, the feathers hardened, turning into scales. These etched and covered their legs. Securing them in a colorful long tail.

Bird's talons turned into beautiful and deadly hands, that once a prey was caught there was nothing it could do but to accept it's fate. Death.

Damned be Hades and his stupid obsession. Damned be Demeter and her blinding rage, and damned be the men that polluted the earth above with their existing and constant evolving.

Men. The real wretched creatures. The executioners of everything they decided unworthy of living. Stupid beings that played God in a self imposed role in life's hierarchy.

Creatures that had hunted and killed your kin for ages, forcing to separate and face new dangers at every turn in the endless ocean. Humans, a little too praising title considering their acts and actions were everything but, had forced you to hide in the deepest waters and forbidden lands not many were brave enough to venture in.

A couple of centuries were more than enough for you to have a glimpse of their nature. Destructive, dangerous and merciless. They sullied and tarnished everything unfortunate enough to go under their hands.

They killed everything unknown or deemed too frightening for their existence and had no mercy while at it. The bloodier the better. A disgusting yet necessary example of behavior you had to follow in order to survive.

Humans had shaped your temper. Heart rejoicing at every sunken ship the sea swallowed. Even their flesh had lost the sizzle to be enjoyable enough, making your feeding habits more inclined towards other creatures within the sea.

You didn't eat men because you hated them. You ate them because their hatred had poisoned enough the seas, leaving you without resources, pushing you to consume them. And your refusal had made your body weak, it had been years since your body felt properly satisfied.

You collapsed.

How many days had passed, certainly was unknown. Time under the sea was measured by how long it took for a reef to go completely white, how often the ships let their nets in a single spot. Sometimes you remained on land, sea too dangerous to venture alone.

But none of that mattered anymore. Inanition wasn't exclusive of humans, the last thing in your mind was to curse Hades and the men.

But death escaped and picked you and others alike within a net. Pushing some survival instinct back in you as the net wriggled and broke. Injecting the right amount of life to hand you a buffet in a wooden platter. Gathering your bearings after the little commotion in your head, was quickly overlooked when the attention focused on the scene unfolding.

A ship full of men, that stared in wonder and fear. One of them stood out from the rest. It reminded you of Hercules. His physique unique, just as his eyes. A fine specimen and surely a delicious one. Their language was unknown, but it became clear the moment you kissed the fool before your apparent naive form. Absorbing his knowledge and a little more in that simple gesture. Which was little.

But enough to understand what the men said and whispered around you.

Foul and salty smelling, with a faint tinge of wine. He tasted sour and ashy, but edible enough to sate your rampant huger. You wanted to go for the herculean man in shackles, his scent rich in leather, voice like a soft and firm caress in the back of one's head. His cinnamon toned skin made your mouth water.

You were about to move for him, but Elliot, the idiot infront and your hunger kept you in place. You knew your initial prey would fight and would waste the little reserve of strength you had left. He was no fool.

As moronic as the man on your way was, he'd save his purpose. The prey was subdued, flesh and bones devoured; bland and tasteless, but well welcomed within your body. Revitalizing energies and restocking the strength you had been lacking for a time.

Expected as it was, they attacked, all by the command of the shackled man, that had dared to injure you with a bullet. But you were too frenzied and hungry to care. Your meal hung in your maws, as you fought to get it off the ship.

Your Hercules watched in horror from afar, and never in your life had you felt more realized and satisfied to provoke such disturbing reaction in a man.

You could almost taste the fear behind his raged and shaky breathing, his shock in every powerful beat his heart did, the denial in his eyes as they widened the more your teeth sank into the corpse. It fueled you. And also ignited with new strength the already flickering purpose of your existence.

Destroy as many of them as possible.

You went under the ship, away from their archaical defense to eat and consume your food. Humans weren't definitely on the top, for a moment the hunter became the prey and didn't survive to brag about his new kill.

Skin and flesh was torn, consumed with such hunger it had you full and completely sated like never before, within matter of minutes. Elliot Jackdaw no longer existed, but served as a reminder that your kin prevailed and endured.

But also, had unleashed a new domino effect you weren't aware of.

The man in shackles, your forsaken greek god, was thrown at the sea. Your territory. You saw him move, fight against the current; trying to free himself from the heavy cuffs that weighed him down and reach back to the ship. And then nothing.

He became still and it made you frown. Where that bravado had gone? The smirk that was about to emerge in your lips faded as soon as a red cloud oozed and swallowed his head.

His scent was too rich and alluring, stagnant almost. Sickly sweet for your senses and he wasn't moving.

If you recalled, he was called a captain. What was a captain doing out of his ship drowning in the sea? Your lip twitched in scowl.

The lack of loyalty among his kindred was another reason to hate them. He wasn't the first nor the last you had saved in these conditions. Mostly women or little children that were expelled without much reasons other than being a burden.

As much as you cursed your heart for not turning its back to these sort of injustices, and your need to have a tiny taste of him, you hauled him up shore. Light as a feather in water, but heavy as lead on land. The heavy iron around his wrist didn't help, so you destroyed it, inflicting little cuts around his flesh in the process.

Ancient eyes scrutinized his form. Sharp cheekbones that could only match a sword. Strong features that screamed fighter in every direction you looked. A jagged and nasty cut on a side of his head, some strands obscuring his face, you removed them and some bloodied debris from his wound, inspecting it.

Not a too deep cut, the contusion of his head against the moving ship had been rough. A single cut in the upper right cheekbone, clothes clung to him like a second skin. His pockets however were too tempting to be left alone.

Sand and water on them, along a shiny pearl that had you staring and sniffing at the trinket for a close inspection, that didn't pay attention to the locket nesting deeper inside. The pearl was true, so you took it as it quickly etched to your skin, under the ribcage as a decor motif of the raggy top you used to cover your chest.

He'd surely serve as one of Aphrodite's lovers. His forearms laced in tiny and fading scars, that also loitered his solid and somewhat hairy chest. A man through and through. A natural enemy of yours, yet you had saved him.

Probably, he would hunt you too, like the scarce quantity of men you had pulled out of danger. The pearl was a token for saving his life.

You could kill him, filling your tabs with another number, but it wouldn't be honorable. Even if you were a different species, you refused to let some of their habits to rub on you. You opposed greatly to be like them, and so with a look that would suppose to be a final one back at him, you dipped back into the sea.

----

He was on land. Alive, heart beating along every single erratic breath. The sea waves washed over his hips, not cold neither lukewarm. Just the ideal temperature for the humid weather

I'm alive.

His mind couldn't comprehend what had happened. One moment he was in the sea, to then hurl himself back up and puke all the salty water his body had unwillingly ingested.

Miguel was dizzy, but alive. Beaten up, but still breathing. Pissed and ever ready to get his treasure back. But he had to recover some energies first.

Sighing and rising slowly, he turned around to kneel in the moist sand. Tiny grains of it etched to his moist skin, they were rough, altering his sensorial touch for a second. Feet finally got the strength to stand up, careful to not let the nauseas get to his head entirely. Skin burned, but he could bear the discomfort, what Miguel truly needed was a big gulp of water.

He remembered the sun being high on the sky, blazing with all it's glory and witnessing his crew marooning him for good. And now it was night. Somehow thankful that he didn't have to deal with the weather's inclemencies. Step by wobbly step he approached to the thickets and palms rooted in the soil, dressing up modestly the land he walked on.

As another wave of nauseas hit while his head pounded, Miguel stopped to rest in a nearby palm. Calloused hand cupping and covering his mouth to prevent the bile and vomit to spill out once more. Dehydrated as he was, Miguel also understood the dangers of drinking too much salty water.

If dehydration didn't kill him, puking too much without having any other resources on reach would. But none of his survival could be done with the unbridled headache that hammered in his head. A side of it was caked in dry blood, like some strands of his already matted and full of sand hair.

With careful steps he ventured in deeper into the jungle, looking for a spot to spent the night away from land's troubles. The island wasn't familiar for him, he didn't even know if it was big enough to harbor sustainable life, or if ships would pass nearby. With a gasp and a frantic move, he palmed his pockets.

Mierda, no! No

Panic rose upon not feeling the pearl, the sudden motion made his steps stutter as he puked, unable to hold it in anymore. But once he was done and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, he searched into them.

Por favor

The pearl was gone, that was for sure, but relief washed over him upon feeling the fine golden chain of the locket. Hand clasped on it while he brought it to his chest and sighed.

He nearly gave up.

Heart pounding in his ears along his head, and only when he opened the locket, the tears flowed. Calloused fingers full of sandy grains probed the valuable mineral, feeling the dents of the shell shape he knew by heart at this point. Eyes drowning and his voice muffled into a silent and wrathful sob as he inhaled the trinket.

Perdóname, Gabi. (Forgive me)

A faint tickle of fresh home bread, coconut oil that he used to fry the fish, and the eucalyptus ointment that was always next to him brought back the bittersweet memories that flooded his mind about the last years he had with Gabriella. She adored when he cooked, and always smelled his fingers after using the oil.

It reminds me of you, Papa.

She loved freshly baked bread. But hated the smell of the eucalyptus ointment the doctor left her.

The only memento he now had of his beloved and long gone daughter. The only thing that mattered the most for him.

How dared them betraying him when he had been everything but fair and good?

How dared them into taking his ship and some important things he had hid inside? But most importantly, how dared life to show him that mermaids were real when the reason he believed in them in the first place was no longer with him?

Who was he supposed to tell that he saw a mermaid?

A karma for turning into a pirate, maybe. All his mind was able to remember was the way the creature looked at him, a clear assessment of her power. Fear invaded every fiber of his being, making him too stunned to actually think or act until he saw the creature devouring Elliot.

Another reason for him to respect the sea. Now that he had a glimpse of what laid underneath, Miguel wondered what other things crawled in it's depths. But he would think about it all tomorrow.

His eyes drooped in exhaustion. Thinking consumed the last bit of his energy reserves. Despite the thirst clawing at his throat with a vice grip, the headache and weariness were greater. Even though a thicket wasn't the right choice to spend the night, he hadn't the time nor the energies to be picky. He just collapsed once more and hoped whoever above to live another day.

----

The sunlight was slippery enough to leak through the dense foliage and reach patches of the humid and moss textured land, as well parts of his weathered face. With a wince he rolled to his side, avoiding the aurifeous and warm touch from the ever blazing sun. Head clear from it's pain, and thoughts in order, like it should be.

With a sigh he rose and stretched, popping joints back in their place. Discomfort remaining in his head and wrists, that upon further examination he deducted the cuts in them were fresh, and undoubtedly someone had saved him from a certain death. Who, he didn't know but was grateful for the mysterious savior to let his revenge start.

With a rested yet hungry body, and a fresh head to think, he rolled his shoulders back and took a look around. Surveying his environment to decide which way to go. No weapons, no resources but packed with skills that were honed precisely for these sort of situations.

He still remembered the first time Mundaca had left him in an island with a single knife to fend for himself, since Miguel refused to accompany him in a slave hunting trip. At first he thought that Mundaca had left him for good or out of spite, but Fermín had only taught him a valuable surviving lesson. This time however, he didn't have that knife and would rely only on his hands, brain and brawns.

Naturally, Miguel headed for the north, palm trees left behind, instead acai palms, rubber trees and soursops begun gathering in the place. The scent of wet soil and rotting wood was pungent in the air, oddly, he liked it. Macaws and other birds cackled and cawed as he pushed deeper along some distant rustling.

The overgrown roots twisted and tangled here and there, weaving a walkable path free of them to his right, His eyes darted to the tail of a cobra slithering away from him, minding it's business.

The copious squaking of the birds was a good white noise along the crunching of his wet boots. His throat was beyond arid, that even spit couldn't form in it if he wished; stomach rumbled violently, begging him for some food. Breathings paused but deep.

Hours stretched for what seemed forever, he didn't know if he was walking in circles, the island was definitely not small. He had found some fruit trees along the way, but the things were so our of reach, that attempting to climb for them was a risk. He'd knew the wait would worth it.

Ears however perked at the gunshot given in the distance. Eyes widened, both in surprise and excitement at the thought that civilization was within. Cause that meant, food and water. And also weapons. And what a better way to confirm it than a booming gunshot that spooked away the nearby fawn.

With careful steps, he followed the echo, making the least of noise possible. As much as it thrilled to have a bite, he also understood the implications of such things. Armored men, guarded bodegas, overpowered foremen and probably slaves.

Time flew by, but his spirits lifted upon spotting the first red uniforms in a distance. Two of them. He approached closer to take a better look.

The soldiers had a rifle each, a belt full of ammo and firing at what were now dead slaves as shooting dummies. To his right, Miguel saw a few tents and supplies. Food and water tossed in a nearby bench, a fire was alight, serving as a cooking source for the pot placed above. His eyes however fell upon a machete. Probably belonging to one of the dead men tied up in the wooden posts.

After all, working tools had to be in perfect conditions, leaving no room for slacking off.

Miguel forayed slowly, moving within the foliage until he reached for the machete, with paced breathings he awaited for another shot to rumble to pull the weapon within his reach. The metallic drag was drowned. He couldn't eat until the men were disposed off.

Now that he was armored, a distraction was needed. The branches used for the iron's pot makeshift support were weak, the stew inside boiled. Miguel pushed the tip of the machete on the pot's edge, a little clink connected as the pot was pushed forward, but it barely tumbled it. He awaited for another gunshot to echo to push the pot entirely on the ground.

The lard immediately sent sparks on the floor as smoke surrounded the area. The noisy thud of the pot alarmed one of the guards that didn't waste time into blaming his companion for the shitty structure and how they'd have to go fishing again to get food done.

A little too late the guard noticed the fiery red eyes that glowered at him. Before he could even say something the sharp blade of the machete sliced through this throat in a firm thrust, all the guard could do was a gurgle, perturbed, before plummeting on the floor, staining the blade with a warm crimson as Miguel pulled it out of the body. Flesh sizzling at the contact of the hot coals and wood.

He took a rock that filled in his palm and aimed it for the head of the remaining guard, the other soldier yelped as he fell on the ground, the rock hitting his head with a lurid crack. Miguel lurched for him to end his misery by impaling the weapon in his back. Right in the middle. It was quick, deathly and effective.

Miguel panted but waited in case another guard was around, but none approached, just the wing flapping of a macaw somewhere. With the machete in hand he approached to the tent and wasted no time in gobbling down the water in a container, quenching his thirst, not really caring for the droplets that rolled down his neck.

His hands then wiped his face as he scrubbed the caked blood and sand away, then scarfed down the leftovers left in a plate and devoured anything within reach that was cooked or preserved, Adia probably would scold him for eating like an animal, despite being starving.

Once he was satisfied and his strength back, he looked for other weapons he could use. As much as the machete proved a worthy aid, it was long and it made noise. The opposite of what he needed.

The Red Eyed Demon searched into the soldier's pockets, a couple of coins, bullets and gold teeth that seemed freshly pulled out of the bodies in the back. He took the bullets and left the rest, he also found a short ranged pistol, a combat knife and a rope.

Also, to his luck, some fresh clothes. As much as he was set into his vengeance he wouldn't waste the chance into being comfortable while at it. His boots were soiled full of sand and saline water, he changed them, like his pants. The shirt was the only thing he kept since none of the men actually wore his size.

Ridiculous as it was, one of the soldiers had abnormally larger feet. But were perfect for him. Pants still a bit too short but he'd had them any other day instead of walking around feeling uncomfortable and itchy by the salt etched to his skin and clothes.

He ventured deeper only to find a familiar scene before him. A state. Hacienda Valverde read in the overly embellished metal structure that held the sign.

----

So far, Miguel had done a good job in keeping himself hid, the least of attention he attracted, the more successful his escape plan would be. So far he had counted around fifteen soldiers in the property. Five of them scattered through the plantations, making sure the workforce didn't dally in their duties.

He ventured over the trees, avoiding unnecessary trouble, to then land nearly quietly in a mountain of hay. His breathings stopped at every time an unsuspected guard passed by him. Heart pounded in his ears when his steps brought him closer and closer to danger

The rest of the guards were scattered through the property, watching over the stables, the main storage room, inside the hacienda and of course, watching over the supply.

He had snuck in the warehouse, to his surprise the cells were empty, he went through each of them to see if anything worthy had been left behind, but the sound of the lock being picked made him hide behind a couple of haystacks.

"Stop, Stop!" A groan came from a wriggling man, "I told you the truth! Let me go!"

Miguel couldn't see who was the prisoner, peeking out would be too risky, but the lack of accent, gave him a hint. An American.

The man grunted as he kicked, managed to land a punch or two to the guards that only twisted his shackled hands backwards. This made the man whine and curse, blind hot pain shot in his ribcage as another soldier hit him with the base of his rifle.

"Shut your fucking gob!" With a rough shove, the fighting man was thrown into the cell, the enclosure's door stilled with a loud creak as the main door was slammed shut.

The only noises the pirate could hear was the pained grunts that only increased when the prisoner tried to pick himself up from the floor, and the shaky huffing that turned into whiny whimpers when he managed to recover some air.

The day was set to surprise him, cause in his life he had seen a white man being thrown in a slave cell. Until now.

The man was tall, lean muscle in his body, a five o'clock stubble in his narrow cheeks and blue eyes. Hair hapzardly peeking ontop of his head.

"Fuck..." He groaned but recoiled in his cell even further upon seeing the shade of red glinting at him behind the haystacks. Pain screamed in every breathing he did, but that didn't stop him from trying to get himself free.

"H-Hey"

The man's eyes widened as soon as Miguel came into full view. He had to crane his head upwards to meet his eyes and gulped as soon as he realized the color in the behemoth of a man. Breaths shallow but less erratic than before now that he knew he had company.

"Please. Help me out of here, pal"

He was definitely American.

"And why would I do that?"

Miguel’s bushy brow quirked while taking another look through the warehouse, searching for alternative escape routes.

"Cause my wife just gave birth and I wanna meet my little girl."

A red stare seized the blue one. His unwavering, but the man's rivalled against it. Miguel broke contact as his hands fisted briefly. The prisoner's chest heaved whole he rubbed the area he was hit on.

Lucky bastard

"I was supposed to arrive last week but I was taken from the ship."

"Why?"

Miguel looked through the haystacks and other corners he didn't have the chance to search thoroughly.

"That's what I'd like to know!" The man sat against the lateral bars and winced defeated, watching at the moving man.

"I was a merchant, on a trip to improve a little familiar business I have, but Nueva York isn't precisely friendly with the working class." He paused to take some air the hit had taken away, "So I came back. And that's where the english trapped me." His forehead rested ontop of his scrapped and bloodied knuckles. The spark that gave him a beating and his imprisonment.

"The English are press ganging civilians at sea."

Miguel's lip twitched in a scowl upon hearing the news. Of course they would, Americans and English were too deep in political wars that could barely stand eachother. But in the sea, the English were the masters and none was there to stop them. More like he wasn't there to sink as many of them as possible.

Yet.

"How old is your daughter?"

The pirate asked above his shoulder and this made the gaoler to look up.

"Three weeks old. According to my wife's last letter."

Miguel's shoulder slumped, and he turned to look at the man. A little hesitation passed over his eyes, but it vanished as soon as he saw an old acquaintance of him. Hope. Red eyes rolled annoyed, as if regretting the sudden decision he was about to make.

"Do you know how to use a weapon?"

The question surely threw the man off, but still managed to reply

"Y-Yeah. Not fond of them, but yeah."

"Fight?"

"Not a complete useless if that's what you're hinting at."

Miguel chuckled and approached closer to the cell, examining the lock while the detainee put on his pair of boots.

"Gimme a wire and I'll get myself out of here."

Miguel instead took a nearby shovel to destroy the lock in a couple of hits. The metal piece clanking on the floor as it fell.

"O-Or you could do that. Yeah."

The man stood on his feet and stretched before offering his hand to him, Miguel just stared at him for a moment before taking his hand in a firm shake. Peter hid a wince at the sheer display of strength and that he had grabbed his injured hand.

"Peter B. Parker. Merchant and lock master."

"Miguel O'Hara. Pirate."

Peter could only blink stupidly at him.

"Let's go."

But followed him without much thought.

-----

Taglist:

@nerdykat @munixumai @raiirai @sarapaprikas-blog @deputy-videogamer @rizahawkeye1380 @littlenyx @marit332 @iz-iplier @mad-hatter-rici @viriexo @obi-mom-kenobi @allysunny @lishdfish @not-ur-average-fangirl @freehentai @darksidecorner @winteringfalls @ellasarich @eustashh @nyxismoon @murnsondock @pluviophilis @oooof-ifellforyou @plusultrayokai @teacoffeeflavored @ctizu1 @dickfartcheesy @s0lm1n @vonev @iwumrndbm @azuredragonstrike @Iyykeyyy @arrozyfrijoles23 @frompeach @ghostlyworld @liamdasimp @straw-berry-ghoul

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara #astv miguel #gabi o'hara #peter b parker #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader #x reader #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara fanfiction #pirate au #mermaid au

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brainworms-all-night-long · 4 months

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You know around the end of season 2 I just let my head run with situations about Sonic, despite knowing Nine is his enemy now, still not letting him come to any harm at the hands of anyone from the shatterverse, and I thought I was stretching it too far, that there was noooo way the show would do something like that.

But lo and behold exactly that happened and I've been losing it since whenever thinking abt it!!

Just, the last episode in particular.

Back where it all began Sonic and Nine, fighting in the workshop, Sonic on the defensive, Nine on the offensive. But this time he was way less composed, attacks wild and running on pure instinct and blind rage. He's fed up with Sonic to the point he doesn't even bother with acknowledging the other noticed the palm trees, he doesn't realize that sonic finaly undertsnds. It's simply too late for that, Nine doesn't care anymore, he just wants him to fucking shut up, to stop spouting lies, to stop trying to trick him into compliance. Because that's all Sonic's been doing up until this point really(from Nine's pov anyway), trick and betray him, beat him, and then feign softness just to repeat the cycle again, sowly chipping at his sanity. And there's only so much of that a literal child can take. (Yea I just get fucking run over by a truck when this realization hits. That's a god damn KID going mad with the powers of gods)

Then their fight gets rudely interuppted by a wall exploding and in comes everyone ever, lead by Shadow resident vibchecker of twin tailed foxes the hedgehog.

They want to hurt him, oh boy its written all over their faces, and Nine definitely finds that scene painfully familiar.

Hes has been caught off guard, cornered and outnumbered, exhausted from the constant usage of the prism and also from the emotional strain Sonic kept putting him through.

Than he's made aware of how much damage he's actually caused during his rampage and all fight immiditely leaves him, because there's nothing left to fight for. He destroyed it all, he lost.

Nine's alone, defensless, with no way to escape and at the mercy of people who hate him. Something he lived through way too many times, not even that many years ago.

Except unlike all those times in the past, Sonic was there to defend and protect him. He brought Nine back down to earth and gave him one last chance, even after no one else would.

Despite everything Nine did, despite how angry and desperate Sonic got, he always held out hope for Nine, always stepped in when someone pushed the fight on the fox way too much(looking at you Renegade). Because he was the only other person that knew and cared about what Nine went through, because he finnaly understood the core motivation behind Nine's actions, and because he wanted to set things right between them once and for all.

Looking like Tails or not, cosmic truth or not, that's a child that needed to be shown love above all else, that much Sonic knew and held by.

#sonic prime #Every scene where Nine and Sonic talk is just sooo much to pick apart there!!#Ahaha I'm finally composed enough to analyze the scenes!!!#And late also #Everyone's already analyzed everything most likely x)#i rewatched the last episode way too many times #just #this scrubs my brain in such a right way #anywaY NORMAL ABOUT THEM #miles nine prower #nine the fox #sonic the hedgehog #prime sonic #sonic and nine #sonic prime spoilers #sonic prime season 3

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astarionconsort · 5 months

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Ascendant Astarion was driven by fear, but can you really blame him?

Okay so I just read the newest interview that mentioned Astarion reasoning behind his ascension was driven by fear and I thought it made sense?

Tho I don't believe that fear was the only force behind the reason of his decision to ascend, there's a longing to be alive again to enjoy everything that the world has to offer, the need for certainty and also to protect his loved ones (when he has a love interest)

But let's talk about this fear part, there are people (even the companions) who expected that 'he should have known better' or 'shouldnt even think about ascension' and sees this fear in the recent interview as something that is so horrid but here's the thing.

"You are right to be afraid." I mean DUH obviously it makes sense. Astarion lives in a very dangerous world where countless undead risen from their graves thanks to necromancer toying with life and death, there are bandits everywhere, monsters, evil gods who never failed to make life even more miserable than ever and even the supposedly good aligned god can be so awful at times, etc etc.

The party that he traveled with and himself were infected with worms that would eat their brain and transformed them into a living husk, the absolute cult and the dead three were on their tail, angry devils, Cazador wanted him back and not to mention the Githyanki and their lich queen wanted them dead as well for what happened with the prism

Even during act 3 where they were supposedly close to victory. The victory was not set in stone yet, nothing is certain and something could have gone wrong. They could have died or even worse!

Not to mention he's a man who was tormented for 200 hundred years. He was stripped of everything that he had and even his own reflection, reduced to catched rats to sustain himself.

Can you really blame him for wanting to seek a way out from Cazador's torment, the hunger for blood and the indignity that he suffered for so long?

Also it would be harder to convince him to not ascend if Tav or Durge romanced him. Because now he's not just afraid for his own safety and his future but also his lover. The only person whom he ever love and genuinely love him back in 200 years (also not ending up as a victim for Cazador)

Most people would have killed him when they found that he's a vampire and infected with an Illithid parasite. Most people would have abandoned him

Tav/Durge was the only light in his life after years of living in darkness and torment, you can't really blame him for wanting to keep this light from being snuffed out by untimely death

And if that means sacrificed 7000 souls that he already damned anyway (undead like vampire wouldn't be accepted by good aligned gods in the after life, not sure about evil gods but most deities most won't accept them) so be it

I don't see this fear behind his decision as something that is objectively awful? I mean it is a natural respond anyone would have if they were in his shoes

Then you might ask "If Astarion loves Tav or Durge that much why he insisted on turning them into a vampire? And break up if they refused?"

Because he was overwhelmed by his beating heart/ his renewed sense, the high from his power and he's also insecure. At that point in act 3 he expected Tav and Durge to stand by his side no matter what

Because they were the only person who didn't kill the parasite infested vampire spawn at the beach, who loves him anyway despite the face he was a man with nothing to his name, who were willing to sacrifice 7000 souls and killed the Gur for him!

Ascended Astarion didn't want THAT special person to be taken by early death or a fate worse than death

He needed the reassurance that his love would be safe and no gods nor fate will take them away

If they refused to be an immortal vampire then they were as good as sealed their fate to death. Astarion didn't want to face that heartbreak

The thing that I don't agree with the interview is that the interpretation that ascension sent him to a horrible place? It was kinda vague? Like worse place when? During or after the ascension? Because this cannot apply after the ascension since I have taken so many screenshot and recording of ascendant astarion and I didn't see him feeling miserable about his fate. He was happy that the hunger gone and he could see his reflection again

Post final battle? The epilogue? After the epilogue party? This cannot be applied to all people, all route, all Tav/Durge and Astarion in general because there's variations. I mean you might see ascended Astarion as a bit lonely because he doesn't end up with anyone but in my Tav's universe he has a consort who stay by his side and their relationship is still going strong because my Tav is aligned with him

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 analysis #bg3 meta #bg3 discourse #ascendant astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav #ascended astarion

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boredflautist · 1 month

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quotes that keep me alive

"all the people are fake, they're made out of metal. But I like you, and that is not fake" -young royals

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world." -song of achilles

"No one ever says goodbye unless they want to see you again." -turtles all the way down

"I want to be with you. If we have to keep it a secret then... So be it, if thats the only way... But no more secrets between us. I love you" -young royals

"Why does the word 'love' from you hurt me so damn much?" -Only Friends

"I've always thought Ray was my 25th hour, my extra hour. But the truth is, everyone has the same 24 hours in a day. And within Ray's 24 hours, I'm not part of it. I'm not that special." -Only Friends

"If I'm gone, I won't be anyone's burden anymore, right?" -Only Friends

"You were wearing corduroy, acting like a poster boy" -poster boy by Lyn Lapid

"I would recognize you in total darkness, were you mute and I deaf. I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely, in different bodies, different times. And I would love you in all of this, until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion" -song of achilles

"Tell me every terrible thing that you ever did, and let me love you anyway" -edgar allan poe

"The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you... I can't breathe. I'm haunted by the kiss that you should never have given me. My heart is beating, hoping that that kiss will not become a scar. You are in my very soul, tormenting me... What can I do? I will do anything that you ask." -anakin skywalker

"If changin' my clothes would make you like me more, if changing my hair would make you care, then I'd grab the kitchen scissors and cut myself to slivers" -jigsaw by conan gray

"'Sorry' doesn't make up for everything you did to me." -heartstopper

"You were my brother Anakin. I loved you." -revenge of the sith

"The truth is what I make it. I could set the world on fire, and call it rain." -red queen

" But isn't it also that on some fundamental level we find it difficult to understand that other people are human beings in the same way that we are? We idolize them as gods or dismiss them as animals." -paper towns

"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'I love you'" -somethin' stupid by frank sinatra

"Tell me it isn't true. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me I'm blind. Tell me you love me. " -shatter me

"I do want to be your friend. I want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with. The one you take into your arms and into your bed and into the private world you keep trapped in your head. I want to be that kind of friend." -shatter me

"The truth is a painful reminder of why I prefer to live among the lies" -shatter me

"'Don't ask me questions you already know the answers to. Twice I've laid myself bare for you and all it's gotten me was a bullet wound and a broken heart. Don't torture me,' He says, meeting my eyes again. 'It's a cruel thing to do, even to someone like me.'" -shatter me

"Everything's a game, Avery Grambs. The only thing we get to decide in this life is if we play to win." -inheritance games

"The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive." -the last olympian "You think I didn't fight the same fight? I halfway convinced myself that as long as Avery was just a riddle or a puzzle, as long as I was just playing, I'd be fine. Well, joke's on me, because somewhere along the way, I stopped playing." -the Hawthorne legacy

"When you're ready, if you're ever ready, if it's going to be me - just flip that disk. Heads, I kiss you." His voice broke slightly. "Tails, you kiss me. And either way, it means something." -the Hawthorne legacy

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here" -william shakespeare

"But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all" -10 things I hate about you

"It's just like the novels, side characters end up alone" -footnote by conan gray

"You made us past tense," I said, my voice cracking, "not me." -betting on you

"Because when they write the history of my life, I want it to include you" -red white and royal blue

"My life is the crown, and yours is just politics, and I will not trade one prison for another" -red white and royal blue

"Or maybe it was when I realized the bruises on your neck were fingerprints and wanted to kill them all over again just so I could do it slowly. Maybe it was the first time I recklessly kissed you or when I realized I'm fucked because I can't stop thinking about doing more than just kissing you. Does it even matter when, as long as it changed between us?" -fourth wing

"Oh darling all of the cities lights, never shined as bright as your eyes" -car's outside by james arthur

"I would rather lose this entire war than live without you, and if that means I have to prove myself over and over again, then I'll do it. You gave me your heart and I'm keeping it." -iron flame

"Because pain in the body quiets the pain in your head. It feels good - like a kill switch for your brain" -kill switch

"Then take your punishment like the pathetic creature that you are" -cruel prince

"Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting, and I can't stop." -cruel prince

"If you're the sickness, I suppose you can't also be the cure." -the wicked king

"I hate you. I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else." -the wicked king

"Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can." -the wicked king

"She is my wife," Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. "The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile." -the queen of nothing

"By you, I am forever undone." -the queen of nothing

"Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you just. Just come home." -the queen of nothing

"I wasted all those yesterdays and am completely out of tomorrows" -they both die at the end

"For what it's worth, I doubt I will ever like anyone else in the world as much as I like you." -book lovers

"I'd never thought about my favorite color before. It never seemed important. Not until I looked into a pair of ocean-blue eyes and realized that perhaps drowning was a beautiful thing" -powerless

if you've made it to the end good god please get some sleep

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lostinforestbound · 24 days

Text

It's finally here! I'm sorry it took me so long, with work and art projects I got completely swamped. But now it's here! I'm aware I'm posting this incredibly late so no one will see this until morning probably hahaha! Requested tag: @snoozeeebee

Rolan/M!Tiefling Tav

Third Time's the Charm - Ch.1

Rolan intends on doing great things when he finally gets to Baldur's Gate, but an utter idiot named Tav is distracting him. Unfortunately, against his better judgement, he's starting to fall for him.

Word Count: 5.9k (AO3)

Relevant Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rolan's POV, Makeout, No smut (yet) but it gets frisky, Slowburn

(If there's any tags I missed, please let me know!) NSFW, MDNI

They've been at this grove, stewing and waiting for too long. That Archdruid (Halsin was his name, he believes) might have been welcoming, but the other druids have not. Now he up and disappeared after he decided to follow a group of weak, loud, wannabe adventurers who were only out for themselves. When they cowered back inside the grove with less than half their group, he knew that this place was doomed. What's worse than all of that mess is that Lia is stubborn about leaving, and now they're in an argument again. They've been having them a lot in recent months, ever since the fall and rise of Elturel.

"-and all you care about is your stupid apprenticeship!" Lia shouts at him, his mind finally tuning back into the conversation- no, not a conversation, a damn shouting match.

Her words make him bristle and grind his teeth. How dare she? How dare she ever think this was all only for the apprenticeship? It's an insult to injury, knowing no matter what he does, trying to take care of them results in him being called selfish. What is selfish about wanting a better life for the three of them? They only have each other, their mother long gone. She's gone, and now he carries the sole responsibility of taking care of them.

She's gone.

"Take that back. Right now." He hisses, getting in her face as they glare each other down.

Cal immediately inserts himself in between the two of them, palms out in front of them both. "Can we all just take a moment? Please?"

Rolan idly notices the sweat gathering on Cal's temple as he pushes Lia back slightly by her shoulder, creating more space between all of them. He does the same to Rolan, but stays put in the middle to form a weak barrier- wait, who is that tiefling that approached? No, it doesn't matter.

"Hells, we can't just leave. They're kin!" Lia begs, almost pleading with him.

"I will not gamble our lives- our futures, on people who are as good as dead," He says somewhat calmly, though his tail still flicks behind him in irritation. "We must leave for Baldur's Gate at once."

Lia looks ready to bare her teeth at him, angry with him. She's always angry with him. "What's the point of blades and spells if we don't bloody use them?! We should stay! These people aren't fighters, we can help!"

"Or yell louder, that's fine too," Cal says with a familiar bitterness in his tone; gods, he hates that tone on Cal. He's been hearing it more often, these days.

"Have you forgotten Elturel?" A voice breaks through, and he finally acknowledges the presence beside them.

It's another tiefling, a much larger one at that. He's not part of the refugees, as he hasn't even seen him around until now. Did he just arrive here?

This one isn't that much taller than he is, only by a few inches; but hells, his mass absolutely dwarfs his own. A fighter most likely, or even worse, a barbarian. It doesn't matter which one he may be, he looks like an idiot that isn't worth his precious time.

"We should stand by our people. You know no one else will." He says lowly, giving a knowing look of both annoyance and sadness.

He loathes that look. He’s never wanted to blast someone more than in this moment. How dare he look at him as if he was some child throwing a tantrum?

"This isn't Elturel, and I'm not responsible for every damn tiefling in the world!" He exclaims, almost furious.

Lia pokes him harshly in the chest with her pointer finger, and he has to suppress a wince. "Just be responsible for yourself, then! We have to stay; it's the right thing to do."

He hates that fucking tiefling even more now. Not only has he butted into his family affairs, but now he turned his sister- Lia, even more against him. For once, why can't things go his way? Why do they not listen to him?

When did they stop listening to him?

"Zurgan. Fine! We'll stay. If we survive, it'll make for a good story, I suppose." He airs, rubbing a finger to his temple as he feels a headache form there.

For the first time in a long time, Lia gives him a genuine smile, putting a hand on his arm and squeezing. "Thank you, Rolan.” She says sincerely.

Cal now takes the calm moment to usher the two further into the grove, seeming to want to get away from the entranceway as soon as possible; for once, Rolan lets him. He doesn't pay any mind to the strange looks they get by going further into the grove with the other refugees, and he certainly doesn't pay any mind to the oaf of a tiefling that they left standing there by himself.

He decides he hates that man, and he pisses him off to no end.

"How long until Rolan shows off his Thunderwave?" Cal asks as they settle down near an old human woman's tent, who seems to be organizing some herbs in her storage crate. Something is off about her, but Rolan can’t put his finger on it. Either way, it doesn’t matter.

Lia snickers at that moment, crossing her arms over her chest. "Depends, how many people are dumb enough to ask?"

"Hah! True."

Rolan rolls his eyes, trying to dust off the dirt on his robes. He hates the smell of this damned grove, it stinks. Is he truly supposed to arrive to Lorroakan with his clothes smelling like this? He'll have to burn them, no question.

"Don't be grumpy, Rolan. We'll get to the city soon." Cal chirps, bumping his shoulder with his own.

"I am not grumpy."

"The scowl on your face would frighten a troll."

Despite the foul move he's in, he smiles at his little brother. "Heh. You're an idiot."

-----

It's been days, and that tiefling is still here.

He's heard about his many exploits; saving one of the children the druids held hostage, saving another orphan child from a group of relentless harpies, getting their money back from that tiefling brat with the eyepatch, and slaughtering Kagha. Emphasis on slaughtering.

When he came out of that grove where the ritual had stopped, he saw the amount of blood that was covering the large man. None of it was his own, he realized. The man barely had a scratch on him and seemed proud when exiting.

He caught himself staring at him many times, watching how the muscles stretched across his skin, seeing all the little imperfections. Scars, beauty spots, all the like. He internally curses himself and looks away when he feels his face growing hot.

Paying back attention to his siblings, he notices how Cal stares at the blacksmith across the way, rubbing his hands absentmindedly as he thinks of something.

"You shouldn't waste precious time on distractions. We need to head to Baldur's gate after this goblin fiasco is over." He remarks, getting up and brushing off dirt.

"Rolan." Lia warns, but he ignores her and walks away with a roll of his eyes. They need supplies, so he will go get them if they are too lazy to do so.

And, of course, the oaf is already buying them off of one of the druids. Damn it all!

"Need something?" He asks, inspecting him as if Rolan was much shorter than him.

He scoffs, even more irritated than he was originally, "I was in need of potions, but it seems you got them all already."

"What did you need?"

"It doesn't matter, you beat me to it!” He instinctively snaps, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. “Bloody health potions are so short of stock these days-"

Wordlessly, the man puts three large health potions into his arms, which, for once, renders Rolan speechless. He doesn’t even remember the original tangent he was about to go one. Something about price inflation, probably.

Staring down at the red potions in his arms, he snaps back into reality when he speaks again. "You three need it more than I do. I, at least, have a healer."

He sneers at him, gripping the potions tight. "So what, you look down on us?”

"Not at all."

"We are not charity cases,”He almost growls, baring his teeth. “What is your game here?"

"…Can I tell you a secret?"

Why is this his life? How did everything turn out this way? Why is he even entertaining this fool??

After a bit of contemplating his life choices, he finally responds. "What?"

The tiefling suddenly leans in to put his mouth near his ear, and gods he's so close. Tav was his name, wasn't it? He heard it in passing by one of his group mates. Balsam, rogue's morsel, and acorn truffle are what he smells on him, a strong scent that is surprisingly pleasant- gods, what is he thinking?! Feeling his face starting to heat up, he tries to take a step back, but Tav stills him with a hand on the back of his neck. It makes his breath catch in his throat.

Finally, Tav whispers to him, "I'm just being nice."

Tav pulls away, leaving Rolan completely dumbfounded as he continues. "I'm not trying to look down on you or be a pest, I just think you need the potions more than I do. Cause gods forbid these fucking druids try and help out people who need it." He spits with a roll of his eyes, staring directly at the Druid that was still besides them through this entire ordeal. He looks uncomfortable.

"Well, that is shockingly intelligent of you." He huffs, hoping the jab aggravated him. "Although, aren't you fighting a swarm of Goblins out there?"

"I am, but bold of you to assume they hit hard enough to hurt me." Before he could come up with another insult for his remark, Tav interjected. "Anyways, I have to return to my camp as it is getting late. Good luck to you and your siblings. Cal and Lia, right?"

He didn't have the chance to respond before the idiot sauntered off, back outside the grove. Great, now he's indebted to the bastard. Slowly, he stalks back into the grove, tying the potions to his belt as he does so.

-----

Some panic swept across the grove when people realized the goblin army planned to raid it for all it was worth. He's heard so many horror stories of slaughtered tieflings, their enemies sawing off their horns to keep as trophies or as foghorns.

If they think they could do the same to his family, they are sorely mistaken.

As others run and hide in Zevlor's war room, others stay to help fight, including himself. But, once again, the three of them can't stop arguing about their positions; he can tell Cal is getting pissed off, but so is he.

"I'm telling you to stay back. My Thunderwave will make short of any goblin that dares to come close. If you two are in the way, I'll knock you both over!"

"And I'm telling you to just get behind us! Spellcasters can't take a punch or a blade!" Lia shouts.

"Can we not argue over this? Please? How about we all line up together?"

"No." They both state and Cal immediately shuts up.

"Wow, you three must love each other very much." A familiar voice says sarcastically.

He grits his teeth and turns towards Tav. "Oh, piss off you oafish-"

"Wait! Wait, maybe Tav can help us out. Figure out positioning and whatnot?" Cal suggests quickly.

"Great idea Cal! Let's ask the professional harpy slayer."

Tav looks at them all, seeming to take in the equipment and weapons that they have on hand. In all honesty, Rolan didn't even think Tav could think.

Suddenly, Tav grabs Cal and moves him to the front, and in the next moment, he gently moves Lia to the back, leaving Rolan in the middle. "There. That's a good positioning."

"See? Easy!" Cal says cheerfully. "Now can we just-"

"Why can’t I be in the front with Cal?”

“Lia come on-“

“I want to be able to help out!”

Tav yawns briefly before explaining, "You will be helping, a lot. Both of you and Rolan are range users. You will hit goblins better by staying in the back where you'll be more effective. Cal here is in melee, with both a pike and a shield. He can protect you both and be your frontliner, while at the same time, you two cover his blind spot. Although, alternatively, you two could be next to each other, but stay behind him."

Rolan blinks slowly, processing the logic behind it. Damn it all, it's incredibly smart. Maybe Tav isn’t an idiot.

"There, good enough explanation?" He asks.

"It's great! Thank you, sincerely." Lia says, patting Tav's shoulder.

"…You're welcome." He pauses before putting a hand into his bag. "We'll kill those bastards out there, no doubt. But I would feel better if you all have this just in case."

Taking out a bright scroll, he holds it out to the three of them to take. Rolan instantly recognized it, especially with the unique binding on it.

A Resurrection Scroll.

Lia is the first to react and take it. "We won't need this, but thank you! Doesn't hurt to have a backup plan if things go wrong."

"I'll make sure it goes smoothly." He reassures, cracking his knuckles.

"What do you have planned, anyway?" Cal wonders aloud.

"I stole a bunch of smoke powder barrels in their camp and set them up along the perimeter. Anyways, they could be here any moment. Stay vigilant. If all goes super well, you won't even have to fight."

-----

They feel the explosions before they hear it. A deep rumbling in the ground that shakes them, awake and alert. There are so many of them that go off after the first one, like a domino effect. How many barrels could Tav have possibly gotten his hands on??

Unfortunately, those explosions didn’t stop a giant spider and some goblins from coming in.

Goblins were easy. He made quick work of them with his thunderwave, blasting them back into the stone wall. Though with his distraction of mentally stroking his own ego, he didn’t see the giant spider coming up until Cal quickly got to his side, blocking its oncoming fangs with his shield, the force of the bite splintering the wood.

His eyes widen, and he blasts a magic missile at the spider right as Lia shoots an arrow into one of its eyes. It screeches in pain, but it’s stubborn in its conviction. It lunges, and Cal cries out when it tears into his arm, trying to rip off his flesh.

Rolan shoots off another thunderwave in his anger and panic, killing the spider in an instant. He watches some of the legs get cut clean off, the body flying and crashing into some crates, destroying them, and its sickly green innards spilling onto the dirt floor. A disgusting sight, indeed.

“Cal!” Lia yells quickly, snapping Rolan back into reality and he quickly rushes over.

Cal is teary-eyed but tries to wave it off, even as Lia tries to get a better look. “I-I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Come here.” Rolan says maybe a little too harshly, making his brother sit down on a wayward crate and grabbing his elbow to hold it still.

“Rolan please-“

“You look close to crying! Just-“ He stops himself and takes a deep breath, eyes meeting his. “Let me help. Please.”

Cal sighs shakily but nods, letting his arm be lifted for him and Lia to see.

It’s a deep injury, but nothing deathly serious. It looks painful. The spider managed to inject some kind of poison, but Cal resisted whatever effect it could have taken.

Rolan takes out one of the health potions he’s received from Tav and carefully pours it over the injury, and it slowly seals the wound. No scar is left behind, surprisingly enough.

“Does it hurt?” Lia gently presses.

“Not anymore. Thanks, Rolan.”

He wants to yell at him so badly, the argument already bubbling up his throat. Why wasn’t he more careful? Why did he jump towards his side so quickly? He had it handled! He’s supposed to protect him, not the other way around.

Instead, he settles on, “You’re welcome.”

Knowing it’s safer, Cal leans against him quietly, and Rolan carefully holds him with Lia. It wasn’t even a close call, but it’s clear Cal needed some comfort.

No more enemies come through. There were no casualties, either.

Zevlor ends up making a speech at the gate when they check out the damage, and he’s sure others are inspired, but he’s barely paying attention to it. He doesn’t care, in all honestly. He wants to leave this fucking grove and never look back; it is by far the worst place they’ve ever stayed in, second to Avernus. Though, he might be being dramatic.

He found himself looking around for Tav, but he didn’t see him anywhere. Why was he looking for him, anyway?

When he finally spots him, he shouldn’t be shocked by the amount of gore he’s covered in, but he is. He’s completely drenched in blood, whether from the goblins or the Drow leading them. Some of it was his own since he spots injuries littering his frame.

He shakes his head and straightens up, shifting his attention to his siblings and ignoring the warmth growing in his cheeks. “Now that this fiasco is over, we will head to Baldur’s Gate.”

“Are you serious Rolan?! Come on, there’s going to be a party!” Lia complains, bumping her hip with his. “We have to go.”

“We don’t have time for parties! Lorroakan is waiting for me, I cannot be late.”

“What’s one party, Rolan? It’s just for a night. We need to rest anyways.” Cal says, looking around the other excited tieflings. When was the last time they saw a crowd of them so happy? He certainly doesn't remember, and it makes his original conviction crack a little.

“I will not-“

Cal takes hold of one of his arms, tugging him. “Please, Rolan? Just for tonight.”

“There’ll be free wine, provided by the heroes.” Lia sing-songs, leaning against him and almost making him stumble.

“…Free wine?” He questions, genuinely thinking about it.

“And free food,” Cal confirms.

Gods, he hates the pathetic puppy-dog eyes that they use. He can’t stand to look at their faces, and he hates it even more that he's falling for it, just as he always has.

He sighs heavily in defeat, head hanging a little low. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Cal cheers, giving him a tight hug.

To his surprise, Lia joins in, the both of them crushing him. “Thank you, Rolan!”

He rolls his eyes but lets a smile break through, even when he can hardly breathe. “All this over a party?”

“It’ll be fun! You’ll see!”

He smirks knowingly, finally separating from the two. “All right all right, I trust that this will be an exceptional occasion. I look forward to seeing you say you love me while drunk, Lia.”

"As if, brother."

It doesn’t take long for Tav to offer up his area with his party members, so they gather with the Tieflings and head to the camp. It doesn’t look like much, but it’s secluded at least.

That bard, Alfira, starts decorating the place in an instant; lantern lights go up, colorful ribbons decorate the trees, and boxes get moved to the side. Others help out, including Lia, but Rolan and Cal sit back and relax for the time being.

When the party finally starts, they pass wine between the three of them.

“Can you give us a magic show, Master Rolan?” She teases.

Rolan rolls his eyes playfully. “Already?”

“Oh! Can you make an owl bear?? Or a dragon!” Cal suggests, scooting forward more on the log.

He stretches out his arms in front of him, cracking his knuckles while doing so. "Patience! Have you no respect for showmanship?"

"Having performance issues Rolan?" Cal whisper-shouts playfully, and Rolan idly notices Tav approaching.

He turns his nose up high momentarily before holding his hands out. "Hush, you. And behold!"

It's a brief performance, but amazing nonetheless if he says so himself. He makes it look like stars that spark, fly, and explode into various lights. He has always been irritated he could never make it last long, but that is what his training will be for.

He looks over at Tav as soon as he claps, seeing the way his eyes glide over the lights. His face doesn’t change in the slightest, so he can’t tell if his clapping is meant to be some sort of taunt or if he’s genuine.

Either way, he does a dramatic bow. "Adoring applause? You're too kind."

"Remember when he couldn't cast that?" Lia teases.

"They grow up so fast," Cal states.

"Never have I met such troglodytes. Now, pass the wine." Rolan demands, but a content smile is plastered on his face.

It seems Lia was about to offer Tav some of it, but when she and Rolan turn towards him, he’s already gone.

“Looks like he already got bored of you.” Lia sings to him.

“Oh hush up.” He huffs, snatching the wine bottle and taking a long drink.

He will never admit how much that comment stung. He doesn’t know why he was so bothered by it in the first place. There are many possibilities he goes over as he feels the alcohol give him a pleasant buzz; was it her wording, or was it the fact that Tav disappeared without a word? Did he get bored?

Whatever, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care what that man thinks of him. He swears he doesn’t.

Later in the night, he drank- no, chugged wine while Cal and Lia chatted with the other tieflings partying. As much as he loved to perform for them both, even someone as great as he gets tired after using a bunch of magic in rapid succession.

The wine wasn’t good; nothing compares to Arabellan Dry, but what else was there to drink? He refuses to partake in ale or beer, he never found the appeal of it. Honestly, it’s disgusting, and he doesn’t understand why Lia likes it so much. Cal seems to be looking for someone in particular but isn't finding them. He looks disappointed.

As he wonders about Cal and debates checking in on him, he doesn’t notice the brute approaching him until his giant form sits next to him with his own alcohol, the bark of the fallen tree groaning from the extra weight. He covers up how it startled him quickly, tilting his head up towards the brute with a bored expression.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing. I’m here to drink.” He says nonchalantly, sipping on the wine bottle. “Impressive display of magic earlier.”

His nose scrunches up, yellow eyes settling on his flaming ones with a glare. “Was that sarcasm?”

“No. Are you self-taught?”

Of all the things he expected tonight, it wasn’t this. Tav, a person who hits things and asks questions later, is curious about him? He wonders if he has an ulterior motive.

He pushes the thought to the back burner of his brain for now but approaches the conversation cautiously. “I am! And a man with many talents, may I add. I’m going straight to Baldur’s Gate to learn from the best: The Great Lorroakan.”

He sees the imposing Tiefling roll his eyes, putting his bottle down to stare out at the water surrounding the camp. Tav looks a little different, in the moonlight. Seeing him up close is a different experience entirely, and now he can see every little detail about him, including how he was shirtless-

Wait, did he just roll his eyes?

“What?” He demands, posture straightening as he grows defensive.

“Nothing. Just heard he’s a cad is all.” He mutters, deciding to pick the bottle back up and taking a long swig.

“Common gossip and rumors! He’s the greatest wizard in all of Baldur’s Gate. I’ve never imagined he would answer my letters.” He states with a happy sigh, idly swirling the liquid in his bottle. “I will become his apprentice as soon as I arrive. I cannot be late, yet Cal and Lia insist that this party is a wonderful idea. An adoring crowd, fine wine - I daresay this place is almost civilized.”

“Do you regret staying?”

“Of course I do. But Cal and Lia…” He trails off for only a moment but snaps back to it. “They deserve to have some fun for a little while. We’ll leave at dawn, either way.”

The Tiefling stares at him for a moment, seeming to be searching his face. For what, Rolan had no idea. Some kind of lie, perhaps?

“All right then. Good luck to you.” Tav eventually settles on.

“…That’s it??” He exasperates.

“If you’re looking for someone to argue with, find someone else.”

“You-“

“You talk too much.”

He settles a death glare on Tav's form. “Prick.”

Tav slowly looks at him with his own glare, determined to play his game. “Entitled fuck.”

“Dumb oaf.”

“Prickly bastard.”

They both stare each other down, faces too close but neither of them breaks their stare. He feels Tav's hot breath ghosting over his lips, and the tension could be cut with a knife.

“You’re insufferable.” Tav huffs, suddenly gripping Rolan’s jaw and kissing him firmly.

He moans in surprise at the force but isn’t against it. In fact, his face gets incredibly red before he remembers he can kiss back.

It’s not like this is his first kiss. He’s given and received kisses before, he’s not some kind of reserved prude. But this is the first one that’s so heavy. Hot. He’s completely out of practice and can do nothing but grip Tav's thicker forearm.

Something about being desirable to Tav makes him throb in his pants, though it also may be the way Tav's tongue is tracing his bottom lip, seeking entry.

Tav's free hand trails to his rear and squeezes, making him inhale sharply; a perfect opportunity for Tav to slide his tongue in to taste him. He knows he's losing his composure and by extension, himself, but what's the harm in indulging in this? It's pathetic, but he's never felt so desired up until this moment, even if this ends up being a fling.

Why did the thought of this being a fling make him feel hollow?

He pulls away to give himself space and to breathe, but Tav doesn't pause, kissing along his jaw and ear. "My tent is west of here if you're interested. No one will hear us."

He shudders at the feeling of sharp teeth grazing the edge of his ear, teasing and provoking. Swallowing, he nods, and Tav pulls him away from the party towards a more secluded part of the area. He hopes that Lia and Cal didn't see him, but they most likely did. He’ll never hear the end of it when he returns.

Almost clumsily, Rolan finds himself in Tav’s tent quickly after, their kissing getting more heated between them. It was a strange feeling, exchanging breaths with someone else, but it felt good. Better than he thought.

They settle down on the floor of the tent, him sitting in Tav’s lap as they continue their make-out. Their tongues dance almost…lovingly. No, he can’t be reading into it right. They barely know each other; he's overthinking again.

He feels his large hands attempting to find the hem of his robes, and he seems to find it quickly as if from experience. Fingers start to dance across the bare skin of his back, running up the ridges of his spine. He sighs out shakily, goosebumps prickling out as his tail anxiously flicks about. Nerves hit him like a loose carriage, fast and suddenly, settling into the pit of his stomach. He felt cold, heart racing a mile a minute.

Why? This was good. Everything was good. This was supposed to feel good.

Why isn’t it?

He’ll give it time. It’s normal to be nervous about this kind of thing, right? Most definitely his lack of experience is a contributor, and doesn’t he deserve this after all his hardship? What’s the harm in pleasure for at least a night.

He feels his back hit the bedroll, warm calloused hands trailing over to the front of his body instead. Their kisses were feverish, desperate, and pent-up. All Rolan could do was grip the bedding below him as nails teased the textured skin of his sternum, a hand rolling a nipple between two fingers.

Tav’s lips go to his neck, finger tips trailing teasingly down his stomach before he begins to palm at his crotch through his smalls-

He can’t do it.

A cold sweat beads on the back of Rolan’s neck, panic and bile rising in his throat as it closes. He can’t do it, and he quickly grabs Tav’s arm with a death grip with wide eyes. “W-Wait, stop!”

Tav immediately gets his hands off of him, giving him space to move. His head reels from the sudden adrenaline, but also because Tav’s stoic demeanor is no longer present, and the man genuinely looks concerned. Fearful, even. “Did I hurt you?”

“No! No.” He reassures quickly, but his vulnerable mind is scattered and unfocused as he sits up.

There’s so many reasons why he couldn’t do this, but he can’t pin one down. Surely, Tav deserves an explanation, so he rushes to think of one.

It’s too soon, he hasn’t done this before, and this isn’t the place for it, he’s not a degenerate, his siblings are nearby, Tav is too imposing, it might hurt, it’s too vulnerable, he’s never been with a man, he’s never been with anyone, this is the wrong place to do it, he’s a coward, he’s scared-

“I can’t.” He grimaces, with no actual reason good enough to say out loud. Part of him is worried about what Tav would say; would he be upset with him? On one hand, if he does, Rolan knows that Tav was never worth his time. But on the other, he found Tav not as insufferable as he thought, and he may have just ruined the strange bond they made by stopping everything. Gods, he is pathetic, isn’t he?

Tav sighs slowly in relief, sitting back. “That’s okay.”

It’s not good enough, not for Rolan. As a wizard, he demands answers for a multitude of reasons when things happen. It’s only fair that he gives an explanation, is it not? Finally, he pins down a reason he could give: he doesn’t want to do it after having so much wine. There, that should do it.

Before he could start his tangent, he felt a hand cover his mouth.

“I don’t need a reason. It’s okay.”

He’s about to argue, completely insulted, but it gets muffled by the hand on his mouth.

“You don’t ever have to explain to me why you want to stop.” He says, finally moving his hand away. “I’m sorry if you felt like you couldn’t say no to me earlier.”

“I did want it.” He assured quickly, because he did. He truly did. Why did he panic?

“But you changed your mind.” He began, not unkindly.

“I did.”

“That’s fine.” He says with a small shrug. “If you want, we can keep kissing. Nothing further than that.”

He laughs in disbelief, running a hand down his sweaty face. “And why would we do that?”

“Doesn’t hurt to have company for a night. Besides-“ He gently takes hold of his chin, tilting his face up. “You seemed to enjoy what we were doing. Why not indulge? Just for one night.”

He smirks up at him, leaning forward with false confidence. “Am I that irresistible?”

“You have a pretty face.” He noted, swiping his thumb across his kiss-bruised lip before kissing him again.

The kiss is lazy and less heated, but it makes his heart pound all the same. Being held so tenderly is new, and he’s growing attached.

He cannot have attachments. What is he thinking?

After kissing for a little longer, he lets himself be held in the bedroll as they lay down, indulging in the quiet night with Tav. They didn’t need to discuss what happened or question it. It’s exchanging favors. For Rolan, it’s just wanting the comfort of another body near him, letting him pretend that he’ll have something like this in the future. One day, he’ll be good enough for someone. He’s not sure what this does for Tav exactly, but he seems content to hold him.

“You can ask for more if you’d like.”

“I’d rather not embarrass myself more than I already have.” He barks before glancing at him in apology, eyes softer.

“Would it help if I said I will keep my mouth shut about this?” Tav suggested, pushing some hair away from his face.

He shifts to glance at his face, seeing if he is genuine. He can never read his face that well, but when he makes his judgment, he sighs and takes one of Tav’s hands, lacing his fingers through his.

“This is pathetic, I know.”

“I don’t think it’s pathetic.” He mumbles, squeezing his hand. “This is nice for me, too.”

Rolan feels himself relax more, body almost relieved that this hasn’t been rejected.

“What will you do, when you finally get your apprenticeship figured out?” Tav asks in the quiet.

“I’ll learn everything I can about all schools of magic. Then I can put on a real show for Cal and Lia.”

“They seem to love your shows already, why change them?”

“It’ll be different.” He pledged, “Bigger, better, and more sustainable. I’ll make them last so much longer, I’ll bring it more colors, and the illusion will look realistic. You will see.”

“I’m sure they’ll be great.” He yawns, nuzzling into the back of his neck.

“I will show you when you reach to Baldur’s Gate, my friend.”

There’s no response, only a quiet snore greets him. At first, he’s annoyed, but it’s hard to be angry when he is just as exhausted from today. For now, he falls asleep in his arms, hoping that for once no nightmares haunt him.

The Tiefling beside him is still fast asleep when he wakes at dawn, though he’s impressed by how the man can sleep through the screeching birds outside.

Quickly, he fixes his robes and hair, trying to not look like a mess. Cal and Lia are surely going to tease him, knowing he never returned to their tent. He debates on whether to wake the idiot up to say goodbye, but that seems foolish. He needs to sleep, and they need to head to Baldur’s gate immediately.

So he opens the tent, sparing one more look back before leaving.

He cannot create attachments. Not now, not ever. Not until he’s done with his apprenticeship.

#forest-writes #holy rolan empire #rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 #rolan x tav #cal #lia #rolan fanfic #rolan brainrot

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beargyufairy · 4 months

Text

Just My Thoughts Pt. 7

Natsu’s Growth

I’ve been disappointed a few times at how Hiro Mashima writes his characters and plot. But never have I ever been as disappointed as I was when I read this panel in the 100 YQ.

For reference, Natsu made a joke about disinfecting Lucy’s burns. It was not even a funny joke. I don’t think anyone laughed. Lucy was burned after trying to calm Natsu who consumed Ignia’s flames to battle against the water dragon god. While he did succeed in the fight, he lost control of himself and was stumped by the flames.

This is such a disappointing situation when it comes to Natsu and his development as a character. Everything he experienced in the original manga/anime is put to shame. It’s like his growth as a person disappeared into thin air. I mean come on!! Is Mashima being serious right now?! Because am I supposed to believe this is the same Natsu who wouldn’t let Gray use Ice Shell on more than one occasion?! Natsu knows the consequences of Ice Shell and refuses to let that happen to Gray no matter how dire the circumstances are. Even though Gray and Natsu would never admit it, their relationship is unique and filled with love. They may be rivals and opposite (considering the ice/fire, demon/devil slayer attributes) but their friendship has grown so much since the start of Fairy Tail. Doesn’t this show how considerate Natsu is?! How important the lives of his friends is to him?

If that isnt enough here’s another example. When Erza was sacrificing herself in the Tower of Heaven arc, Natsu refused to let her go and eventually saved her. Erza is important to him and Fairy Tail. He wants her to live on. Doesn’t this show how much Natsu cares about everyone?! Is he making a joke about Erza?! No he isn’t.

Okay fine those examples aren’t about Lucy right, so why does it matter?! Because Natsu would never joke about burning his friends, accident or not. And if it’s about Lucy, then most definitely not. Lucy is probably the member of Fairy Tail he cares about the most (aside from Happy). When Future Lucy died, Natsu almost went completely rogue (pun intended, if you know what I mean). He even stated that something precious was taken from him. Furthermore, when Lucy was “dead” during the Alverez arc, Natsu lost it. Literally, he became END, the demon everyone fears, the strongest creation of Zeref, the black wizard. Lucy’s life was so important to him that without it, there was nothing holding him back. He even stated that he can’t be stopped after having flashbacks about her supposed death.

Natsu couldn’t care less about the world ending. He wanted to fight the people that made Lucy cry. That’s what he was focused on. And so after all this, Mashima wants me to believe that Natsu would joke about burning Lucy?! Yeah, I don’t think so. After everything Natsu went through, he would’ve at least felt guilty. Considering that it was Lucy of all people he burned, he would’ve apologized over and over again. Why?! Because she’s so important to him. He literally became a demon when he thought she died!! Isn’t that proof enough?! I also think that he would feel so grateful to her. This isn’t the first time Lucy helped Natsu control himself. She’s always there for him. But Natsu has never lost control like this before. Did Natsu ever properly thank Lucy for saving by rewriting the book of END?! He’s literally only alive because of her. She tampered with a demonic force and black magic yet Lucy is so damn under appreciated that it pains me!!

If the goal was to lighten the situation considering the intensity of the battle against the water dragon god and Ignia’s involvement, a joke that doesn’t make Lucy’s burn seem pathetic would’ve been better. A joke about anything else would’ve been better. Seriously, Lucy knew the consequences of trying to stop Natsu, especially when noting that she was scared of his flames for the very first time. She did anyway because she cares about Natsu and knows that she can help him, even if it means she will get burned. I would also like to note that Lucy never actually saw Natsu as END. She arrived after he gained some sense of control. Considering everything, if Hiro Mashima doesn’t make up to me by having her fear of Natsu’s flame and her lack of experience with END play into the story I’m gonna be so mad. Since he already disappointed me with how he’s treating Lucy’s injury/burn, I really hope he plays the rest of the story properly.

I’m very disappointed in how not only Natsu’s character is being portrayed and downgraded, but also how Lucy is yet again the butt of the joke. She does so much for her team and friends but is always ignored (I’m still upset about Aquarius’ sacrifice that’s not talked about enough).

Thank you for listening.

#female rage #fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #nalu #natsu x lucy #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr #lucy x natsu #illustration #lucy deserves better #fairy tail 100 yq #thank you for coming to my ted talk #just me and my thoughts #i hate this #rant post #nalu headcanon #home is where you are #lucy star dress

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enha-cafe · 1 year

Note

honestly sunghoon would make you meow in bed. like he could be pounding you at the fastest speed and he just simply tells you to meow.

AND IF YOU DO IT

god damn he would not let you live it down. he would go even harder…

am i detecting sunghoon pet play??? (hard hours)

sunghoon who is calling you kitten just because he thinks it’s a cute pet name for you but the second you meow game over. he didn’t think it’s really affect him he just wanted to humiliate you and have some fun but damn. there’s just something so cute about his girlfriend meowing for him. can’t stop pounding into you and leaving marks all over your body. he can’t and he won’t let you go until he’s satisfied. he’s liking this whole kitten thing a bit too much and he’s thinking about getting you some ears and a tail.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #j hard hours; 💦

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bettyfrommars · 7 months

Text

Everlong

part 1: hello, I've waited here for you

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

18+Only, smut, older!eddie, older!steve, unprotected anal sex, first time experience, oral m/m, anal play, rimming, fingering, no Vecna, deep feelings, mention of porn and of an orgy, creampie, but it's also very fluffy, Eddie has had a crush on his best friend for a long time. wc: 5.9k

It's the mid-late 90's in Hawkins, Eddie and Steve are both in their 30's, and have recently moved back after several life upsets. Eddie has his own trailer across town, and that is where he offers to let Steve stay for a week, and old feelings resurface.

author's note: There will be 2 parts to this. I fully intended to work on something Halloween themed, but then the inspiration for this happened. Just goes to show how my mind doesn't like to be told what to do.

"If everything could ever be this real forever If anything could ever be this good again The only thing I'll ever ask of you You've got to promise not to stop when I say when..."

-- Everlong, Foo Fighters

Steve’s week-long stay with Eddie was half over, and Eddie felt that reality sink his heart as he opened the door to his trailer.

“Honey, I’m home,” he announced with a spring in his step.

He lived in a trailer park across town now, it was double wide, and felt like a luxury after all of those years he spent crowding in with Wayne. He missed the old man though and went over to Forest Hills every couple of days to visit.

He never thought he’d be back in Hawkins a decade after high school, but he’d dropped everything to move to Indianapolis for a girl he was seeing, and then got his heart shattered a year later.

Coming back to his hometown felt a bit like failure, but it also felt safe. He still had good friends there, and he didn’t want to be alone anymore. Working as a welder at the local fabrication shop was not his dream job, but it paid the bills, and he was comfortable. He even got to play a show with his old band every now and then.

He put the Chinese take out on the island between the kitchen and the living room and called Steve’s name again. But then he caught sight of the piece of paper on the coffee table:

“Went for a run. BRB.”

The note made Eddie grin and feel all goofy, like somehow that small courtesy was such a huge act of love. He hadn’t been treated very well by his partners over the years, and that revelation stung him in moments like that.

Steve had also done the dishes, and the living room was spotless and organized. The ashtray on the coffee table had been dumped out and cleaned, all of the Guitar World magazines stacked neatly. When he opened the fridge to grab a beer, he found that they were all lined up in a row. Eddie kept telling him he didn’t have to do any of that, but Steve said that if he didn’t stay busy, he’d go crazy, and Eddie respected it.

Steve Harrington and Eddie had remained best friends, even through the years and the distance and the failed relationships. It just so happened that Steve was at the tail end of a very messy divorce, and needed a place to crash now that he was back from Chicago. His ex-wife had managed to take him for every penny he had, so Eddie was quick to offer his place after he joked about having to sleep in his car (it wasn’t a joke).

Eddie played the message blinking on his machine to find that it was from Robin. She’d also moved back to Hawkins recently, but she worked 50 hours a week, had two roommates, and was dating a woman from another town, so they didn’t get to see each other as much as they’d like. The three of them had a bowling date set for that coming weekend, and it gave Eddie the warm fuzzies to think about them all being back together again.

Eddie was in the shower with his dick in his hand, stroking it, when Steve burst in. “Hey man,” the intruder grabbed something from the medicine cabinet, and then braced his hands on

the sink before splashing some water on his face. “God damn, I am out of shape. That was rough.” Steve coughed a few times and then wiped his face on the nearby towel.

He couldn’t see Eddie through the dark blue curtain, but had he heard him? There was a possibility that Eddie had been talking to himself, thinking about Steve, and grunting a little as he got himself hard.

“Food smells good,” Steve added as he walked back out into the hall, but left the door wide open. “I’m starving.”

Nah, he hadn’t heard anything.

“I got those weird noodles you like,” Eddie shouted over the sound of the shower. “And sweet and sour chicken.” Steve didn’t have to tell Eddie what he wanted from the restaurant down the street; Eddie always paid attention to those things.

“Hey, leave me some hot water,” Steve was in the doorway again. “Or should I just get in there with you? Save some resources?”

“Not unless you want to soap my balls, Harrington,” and then Eddie threw his fist against the curtain. “Get out, and shut the fucking door, you creep.”

—-------

After dinner and a beer on the porch, the boys retired to their respective positions on the couch while Eddie rolled a joint. The movie Ghostbusters was on TV, but it was interrupted by a string of commercials, and Steve tucked his foot under him on the opposite end of the couch while he watched Eddie lick the paper.

“Okay if I have a drag?” Steve asked, resting his cheek on his knuckles.

Eddie snapped a look at him and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, hell yes. You think you can handle it?” The metalhead sat back, rolling the piece between his fingers, and then he wet one end and grabbed his lighter.

“I can handle whatever you can handle, Munson.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Harrington,” Eddie smirked and took a stiff inhale before passing it to his friend.

Steve’s ex-wife had insisted on a very straight-edge lifestyle, and he hadn’t had a whiff of weed in almost 3 years, so he took a cautious pull.

And then he coughed, and banged his chest, and spittle flew from his wet lips.

“Damn, alright,” Eddie hummed. “I take it back, you are a badass.”

“Shit,” Steve could feel the drug seeping into his bloodstream and his senses. “Feels good. Feels kinda…tingly.”

“Ahh if only to have your tolerance again,” Eddie mused, taking another long drag. The show came back on, and the Ghostbusters were checking out the slime and stacks of books in the library.

They watched a few minutes of the movie while Eddie continued to smoke. He offered it to Steve again, but he passed.

“Hey, do you remember that one time we watched a porno together?” Steve just blurted it out from nowhere, completely unprompted.

Still, Eddie knew exactly which porn he was talking about, and the exact night that it happened.

“I think so,” Eddie tapped his ash out. “Maybe. Were we at my old place?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, keeping his eyes on the screen. “It was the summer you graduated, and Wayne was at work and you were like ‘hey Steve, wanna watch some vampire ass fucking?”

Eddie scoffed. “Shut up, that is not what I said.”

“Well,” Steve was clearly exaggerating, chuckling to himself. “That’s what they were doing.”

The movie was called, “Bloodsucking Orgy” and it was a bisexual vampire porn. But the actors were wearing fake, plastic teeth, and the cheap makeup dripped off of their faces as they fucked, but it was some of the hottest shit Eddie had ever seen at the time.

What Steve didn’t tell him was that he had to pull over to jerk off in his car that night, not only thinking about the raw breeding on film, but the way Eddie had palmed himself over his jeans, clearly aroused. That was the first night, all those years ago, when Steve had first questioned his sexuality.

“I had that vhs with me for a long time,” Eddie held in a tight breath and then released a large plume of smoke. “It was under my bed in a box for years, but I think my ex took it.”

“Trevor?” Steve asked, thinking of the last boyfriend that Eddie had introduced to him that he didn’t like. Come to think of it, he hadn’t approved of any guy or girl Eddie had dated in a long while; In Steve’s mind, no one was good enough for his best friend.

“Nah,” Eddie lowered his chin, shyly. “I only dated him for like, a week. It was barely a handjob. I’m talking about Jake, the one with the mohawk.”

“The guy who juggled bowling pins at the fair?” Steve rolled his eyes. “I swear, you know how to pick them, Munson.”

Eddie squinted across the couch at his friend as another commercial came on. Maybe the weed was a little stronger that night but, was Steve…jealous?

Steve stole a long glance at Eddie when he got up to use the bathroom, taking in the curve of his muscles under the thin white Hanes of his t-shirt and the arc of his resting cock under his sweats.

They watched a bit more of the movie, speaking the lines to the parts they knew by heart.

“I’m going to miss this when you go,” Eddie muttered.

Steve’s apartment would be ready by Monday, and Eddie was dreading the lonely nights when Steve wasn’t there on the couch with him.

“I’ll be just down the road, man,” Steve assured, taking a sip of his beer. “I thought you’d be glad to get me out of your hair, so you could get back to your bachelor pad life.”

Eddie figured Steve was just confused, so he decided to jog his memory. “I haven’t so much as gone on a date with anyone in almost a year. This is hardly a rockin’ bachelor pad.”

For some reason, this gave Steve a sense of relief.

Ghostbusters ended and Eddie told Steve to wait right where he was, as if he’d go anywhere, since the couch was also his bed.

When Eddie sauntered back from the dark hallway, he was carrying two black, clamshell vhs covers. They were blank on the outside, with no words on the spine, and Steve knew exactly what they were, even from far away.

“Let me guess,” he raised his eyebrow. “Bloodsucking Orgy Part 2?”

Eddie chuckled. “Close! No, but they are just as bad.”

Steve adjusted himself in a way that made Eddie look over his shoulder as he put the tape in the vcr. “You okay with this? I figured…for old time’s sake?”

“Sure, yeah, why not?” Steve ran his fingers through his hair a few times and adjusted the collar of his tee because suddenly he felt very hot.

To say that Eddie was testing Steve would be wrong. Eddie had no idea that the events in Bloodsucking Orgy had been a bit of a sexual awakening for his friend.

The actions in the movie would turn Eddie on, sure, but he could control himself for a few minutes if it meant being able to get a laugh at the way Steve’s face twisted up at the ridiculousness of it all.

The credits came on to let you know that this was a “Two Dicks, One Hole Production” and the boys clapped.

There was about 3 minutes of what you’d call “plot” where a bunch of zombies stormed inside this woman’s house while she was having a tupperware party, and then they were suddenly all compelled to have sex.

“Look out, Scorsese,” Steve bubbled a laugh into the palm of his hand.

Eddie clucked his tongue. “No one appreciates good cinema these days.”

One zombie had its head between a woman’s legs on the table while one of her friends squatted down on her face and rode her tongue.

Some of the husbands came by to rescue their wives, but then they ended up getting dicked down as well. It was all purely entertaining at first, but all of a sudden, Steve felt his cock twitch. He palmed himself over his boxers, and looked over to find that Eddie was doing the same thing.

Eddie glanced over and caught Steve staring at him while he touched himself and suddenly, he wasn’t at all interested in the movie anymore.

“Why does it--” Steve started, swallowing hard. "Why does it always look like it feels so good?"

“What?” Eddie rested his head on the back of the couch. “Being attacked by a flesh-eating zombie?”

“No,” Steve nibbled at his lip. “When they put it…in their ass…like that. The dudes I mean.”

Eddie couldn’t even hear the sound from the tv anymore, his ears were ringing. “Because it does feel good, sometimes, when the right cock is in your ass.”

Steve’s breath hitched at the tone of Eddie’s voice. “You like the feel of it, don’t you?”

Eddie couldn't help himself; he cupped his balls under the blanket. “Yeah, um, I do.”

“I’ve wondered about it,” Steve admitted in a whisper, sliding a hand down slowly to palm himself over his jeans. He was getting hard and needed the friction. “I've wondered what it would feel like. I think I might like it.”

“You do?” Eddie’s voice was low.

Was this really happening? Was Steve just shooting the shit? Or was he trying to throw clues down? If so, how should he handle it? He’d masturbated to this scenario so many times in his life but had no idea how he would make his move in real time.

Steve hadn't planned this. He'd had thoughts about Eddie before, sure, but he never imagined he'd do anything about it while he was staying at his place. How embarrassing would it be if his friend rejected him? He had to play it cool so he could make it out like he was kidding if that happened.

With a surge of adrenaline, Steve scooted closer, and his friend met him in the middle of the couch.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Steve’s eyes searched the other pair of chocolate orbs, and they were so close now, Eddie’s pulse was skyrocketing. “I don’t want this to make anything weird between us.”

“I’m fine with it if you are,” Eddie mumbled. There was a voice in his head screaming at him not to miss his chance. He pinched the front of Steve’s shirt. “We could experiment, if you want? What are best friends for?”

Eddie knew there was a platonic best friend line in the sand that was about to be crossed, and it could never be uncrossed, but the way Steve was looking at him with those puppy dog eyes made him not care one single goddamn bit.

He’d do anything for Steve. Even if it meant he was just another “experimental experience” for a straight guy.

Steve leaned in for a kiss, and as much as he wanted it, Eddie pulled his head back.

“Say it,” Eddie muttered.

Steve squeezed himself through his boxers and frowned, confused. “Say what?”

Eddie moved in close again, brushing Steve’s lips with his. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Steve choked on the words at first, and then he told Eddie what he needed to hear.

Their mouths met in a frenzy of clumsy tongues and cries, and then they made their way to the bedroom, stripping clothes off as they went.

It wasn’t long before Eddie was naked next to Steve on the bed, pushing a lubed finger inside him one knuckle at a time. “Is that okay?” He kissed the corner of Steve’s mouth. His friend’s eyes were closed, but Eddie’s were wide open—he didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Yes—fuck,” Steve squirmed, but his hips were moving down, needing Eddie deeper. He gripped Eddie’s back with one hand, and the other came up to fist his own length where it throbbed.

Eddie moved his head down, his hair dragging along his companion's chest. “Let me,” he mumbled. Steve held it at the base so that the metalhead could take the swollen, leaking tip into his mouth. Now he was twirling his tongue around the head and fucking his finger inside of his best friend. He savored the taste of the salty tang, making lewd noises as he sucked and swallowed.

Eddie’s mouth was magic, and Steve was hiccupping erotic sighs. “Tell me again, why did we wait this long?” He chuckled, and Eddie smiled around the gift in his mouth, both of them caught in mutual disbelief and bliss.

“You feel that?” Eddie came up for air long enough to ask, pupils blown, rubbing deep onto Steve’s prostate with purpose.

“Yeah, I feel it,” Steve shuddered. He bent his knees up and placed his feet on the mattress so that he could arch his pelvis up to give better access. “I think...I think I need more,” he breathed.

Eddie chanced a look up at his friend: his head was back, throat exposed, and–oh shit— he loved seeing what he was doing to him. The way that he was the one giving Steve Harrington this much pleasure, to be the one to make him unravel.

The second finger went in, stretching him, and Steve’s muscle squeezed around Eddie’s digits so tight, it made his cock ache to take their place. The phalange in question was tucked against Steve’s hip, aching, and he rutted it there a few times, leaving a snail trail of juice on his partner’s skin.

“Move this leg,” Eddie advised, and Steve licked his lips, watching every move, hoping to god that he did not stop fucking him. He was switching positions now, getting in between Steve’s thighs.

Steve used the slick from Eddie’s saliva to work the tip of his cock a few times as his eyes roamed the wash of tattoos over his friend’s sinewy muscles, and the guitar pick necklace that swayed against his chest.

“Does this feel okay?” Eddie buried the second finger in and scissored them to stretch out Steve’s hole, feeling the resistance throb in his own balls.

Steve winced with a hiss, and Eddie’s hand stilled, but then Steve’s eyes snapped open. “It feels so fucking good, don’t stop.”

Eddie was quick to lower his head to take over the tending of Steve’s huge member, making his friend moan long and hard.

When he looked down at the top of Eddie’s head, and the way his arm moved in and out between his legs, listening to the soft, wet, sucking sounds, Steve started to have some real feelings. They were feelings he was afraid to think, let alone say out loud.

“I-I need you inside of me, Eddie,” Steve managed. “I need you to fuck me right now.”

Eddie rose up, staring into Steve’s eyes as he took his fingers out to put the head of his dripping cock against the slip of Steve’s hole, rubbing it up and down. “Are you sure?” Eddie mumbled. “I’m not going to last long.”

“Me neither,” Steve blinked a few times, liking the way Eddie bit his bottom lip and searched his face.

Eddie’s heart was about to explode in his chest. He imagined bits of his heart and cum sprayed everywhere when his strewn body parts were found the next morning.

After a few moments of working the tip through and moaning at the way his hole sucked him in, Eddie leaned forward and pressed into Steve, spreading him open, letting him give a silent scream into his mouth. Eddie braced his partner’s hips, trembling at the sensation as he clenched around him.

Once he sank all the way in, Eddie intertwined his fingers with Steve’s above his head and began to move.

“The way you’re gripping me—holy shit,” Eddie murmured against his mouth. “Does that feel okay?”

“It feels…so fucking good,” Steve hushed. “Don’t stop.”

Steve’s bent legs were up now, and Eddie was thrusting against him, deep and hard, unable to hold back the emotions that drove his movements. Steve’s body bent so that his stomach wrinkled as Eddie found a mouth-watering pace, his guitar pick swinging in the air.

Foreheads pressed together, Eddie said, “wrap your legs around me,” and that’s when it happened; that’s when Steve could feel the coil snap in his stomach as Eddie drove into him with purpose.

Eddie grabbed a handful of Steve’s hair and pulled tight, yanking his head to the side, making him whimper.

“Cum inside me, Eddie—” Steve cried.

Eddie gave a strangled gasp at his words, because he was close, but it didn’t take long to slide one hand between them to find Steve’s leaking tip to help him along.

“I’m gonna cum in your tight little asshole,” breathless, Eddie was pounding him now, and neither one of them cared if the wet slapping sounds could be heard next door.

It was all Eddie could do not to declare his love then; to tell Steve that it had always been him, and it would be him forever after. “I’m so in love with you,” he wanted to say, and the thought alone made his orgasm rise.

The way Eddie made him feel so full would have been enough, but then his friend’s strong, calloused hand was yanking at his cock and Steve began to convulse under him. “Oh fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum. Eddie, I’m cumming!”

First of all, did Steve just call him baby?

But then there was no time to consider it because there were warm ropes of his release shooting between them, and Steve’s muscle gripped Eddie’s length over and over, milking him.

The way Steve cried out made Eddie’s movements erratic as he emptied himself, scooting closer, and bending his friend more in half to get deeper, to keep pumping with each aching grunt.

“Shit, you feel amazing,” Eddie cursed as everything got slippery and he could feel his seed leaking out between them.

Once they both came down from their highs, Eddie pulled himself out of Steve and kissed his knee before shimmying off the bed.

“Damn,” Steve looked down at himself, at the spray of jizz that began to pool in his belly button and noticed the sensation of Eddie’s release dripping down his ass. “I’m a fucking mess.”

“Hold on, I got it,” Eddie returned from the bathroom with a washcloth, brushing hair out of his face, and Steve watched him climb onto the bed to nestle between his thighs again. His cock was still half-hard, bobbing in the air as if it were already preparing for another round.

Eddie had the wet rag ready, but then the cum glistening on Steve’s stomach gave him other ideas.

“Are you giving me all that sweet aftercare now?” Steve scoffed.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows before bending down to lap at Steve’s bellybutton with his tongue. “You’re my guest.”

The feeling of his friend’s tongue dragging along his sensitive flesh was about to make Steve erect again, and he writhed at the sensation, eventually scooting further away, up against the headboard. Eddie watched him go, not sure what he’d done wrong, and passed him the washcloth.

Steve was having a hard time looking at his best friend now. Maybe because it had been the best orgasm of his life? Maybe because the past hour had made him question everything he thought he knew about himself?

He didn’t know what to do with the towel when he was done, so he handed it to Eddie, and he tossed it to the ground with a flop.

Eddie was about to move up next to Steve to kiss him, or at least sit next to him, but instead Steve got up off the bed and bent down to put his boxers on.

“So, does this mean—” Steve stammered, keeping his back to Eddie. “Does this mean that I—that I’m a bottom?”

Eddie was about to chuckle as he stretched long on the mattress and put his head in his hand, but then he realized Steve was asking a serious question.

“Did you enjoy it?” Eddie asked, cautiously.

“Um, yeah,” Steve bent down to pick up his shirt. “Obviously I did.”

That response elicited a quiver of a smile from Eddie, putting parentheses on either side of his mouth.

Eddie exhaled a long breath and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “It means…whatever you want it to mean. I’m not one to really care for labels.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve nod, taking in the information. He went to sit at the edge of the bed, fully clothed now, and Eddie ran a hand down his chest, thinking of his next words.

“We could always try it…the other way,” he said it so nonchalantly, and it made Steve turn his head, curiosity piqued.

“The other way?”

“You know,” now it was Eddie averting his eyes. “You could fuck next time, if you want. If you want to try it, I mean. See if you like it.”

“Next time, huh?” Steve ran a hand up and down his face. “I don’t know, man, this is —kinda blowing my mind right now.”

“I get it,” Eddie could feel a familiar heartache rising in his throat. “We could just forget this ever happened, if you want.”

There was a heavy silence then, thick and weighty with the fear of the unknown.

“No, I don’t want that,” Steve whispered.

Eddie lifted his head up. “You don’t?” His voice cracked, and then he cleared his throat and sat up to brace his elbows behind him.

Steve stood and put his hands on his hips before turning to his friend again. He raked his fingers through his hair. “I want to keep doing this,” he muttered. “But I don’t know what that means.”

“Hey,” Eddie scooted himself down so that he was sitting close to where Steve was standing, legs off the bed, and looked up at him. “We’re the only ones allowed to define this…whatever is happening between us. No one else.”

And the next thing you knew, Steve surprised himself for the second time that night, by going over to stand in front of Eddie. He brushed a few strands of his outdated bangs off of his forehead and Eddie closed his eyes to bask in the attention.

But his eyes opened when he felt Steve lower his head and grab onto Eddie’s shoulders. His mouth was so close now, and their noses slotted together. “I think I need to kiss you again,” he hushed.

Eddie’s hands went to the hips of Steve’s shorts, making fists in the material; he could feel himself getting hard again already.

“You better fucking do it, then, Harrington,” Eddie mumbled.

Once their lips met, tongues were quick to follow, and then they were crashing into the kiss and Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck. He had so many questions, and so many concerns about what this would look like to the outside world, to his friends and estranged family. But, in that moment, nothing mattered more than getting as close to this person he loved as he possibly could.

He wanted to be inside of him.

Eddie dropped to his knees and took Steve’s boxers with him, making Steve curse once he was back inside Eddie’s warm mouth.

Eddie pulled back to spit on the head, connecting a string of saliva to his mouth when he looked up to stare into his companions' eyes.

“You know where I want to put that,” Steve told the man on his knees.

Eddie’s moan was full of yearning. “I want you to fill me up,” and then he licked down the shaft and spit again until it was soaked. Eddie sucked his finger and then snaked it back to push the tip into Steve’s clenching muscle while he gave kitten licks to the freshly juiced pre-cum.

Steve jumped. “Fuck, baby—you’ll make me cum like that,” he barked a laugh.

Eddie’s smile was huge—-holy shit, he was so in love—-but then he stood to full height and grabbed Steve by the throat to kiss him. “We’ve got all night.”

Steve found his partner's rock-hard length and began to roll back the foreskin with a firm grip. He had no idea what he was doing but decided to go with whatever felt right. “Bend over,” Steve told him, taking a fist full of his hair. “Get on the bed.”

Steve’s tone made Eddie clench, and his balls were preparing for duty again.

Steve stepped out of his boxers and took his shirt off, keeping his attention on Eddie’s ass, and the way it was on full display for him now.

“The lube is in the—” Eddie started, but Steve silenced him with a “shush”.

“You’re a big boy, Harrington,” Eddie continued. “I don’t want to get ripped open toni—-”

But then big hands were spreading his cheeks apart and an eager tongue was dancing around his asshole.

Eddie pushed his hips back and the tongue dove inside. “Does that feel good?” Steve asked in between licks.

“Fuck yes,” Eddie breathed.

With that new burst of encouragement, Steve slid his thumb in, making the metalhead throw his head back.

Steve considered the logistics of it all for a moment, and then: “Can you get on your side?”

He moved into position without question. Steve didn’t have the nerve to say it, but he wanted to see Eddie; he wanted to be able to look at his face when he came. When they were both ready, Eddie rubbed the lube on his friend’s generous length, and then Steve squirted a bit on that pink, puckered spot, and Eddie yelped at the cold sensation.

More low chuckles, more tender laughter.

Eddie watched over his shoulder at the way Steve was concentrating as he lined the tip up. His best friend was so fucking beautiful, and he hoped to god it wasn’t a dream. Steve straddled Eddie’s bottom leg, while his top bent to the side, twisting at his hip.

Steve stammered a few curse words when he sank in an inch, halting. “Oh shit, I had no idea how tight—holy fuck Munson.”

“Fuck, please don’t stop,” Eddie mumbled into the pillow.

Steve groaned long and hard with each thrust, pushing himself in, taking his time, and then pulling out a bit until his hips were almost flush with Eddie’s ass.

“You like it when I stretch you out, don’t you?”

Eddie’s jaw went slack, and he reached down to touch himself, rutting into the mattress.

Steve buried himself inside Eddie, spreading his cheeks apart to watch. “Tell me I’m the only one who fills you up like this.”

“You’re the only one,” Eddie was whimpering now, trembling with lust and love. “I need you to start moving right now, Harrington!”

Steve was snapping his hips then, pounding Eddie just the way he wanted. The sounds escaping both of them were egging each other on, and Steve held Eddie’s leg up to get a better angle.

“It’s never felt this good,” Steve blurted. “Look at me.”

Eddie turned his head to meet his partner’s hooded gaze, sweaty hair sticking to his cheek. What if he said, “I love you”? What then? Because it was right there on the tip of his tongue.

“I’m so close, Eddie,” Steve’s movements stuttered a bit. “I need to see you.”

It was only a few more seconds of that intense eye contact before Steve was losing every last bit of himself inside his friend, slapping their skin even harder together as warm wetness filled the space. Steve’s toes curled on the mattress, and he threw his head back, holding onto Eddie's leg so that he didn’t fall over.

Being inside Eddie, to share something like that with him, felt so right and so perfect, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

He flipped his partner over so that he was on his back, neglected cock straining against his tattooed stomach, and Steve bent over to put it into his mouth.

“Steve—!” Eddie was already about to blow his load before those soft lips were on him, but now his balls were tightening up close to his body. “I’m so close, I’m gonna—oh fuck!”

Steve nodded, humming on his friend’s swollen length as the salty spill poured over his tongue and he drank it down with eager swallows. Eddie writhed, shaking as he came.

They showered together again after that, and Steve found out about Eddie’s insatiable appetite when they jerked each other off one more time before they found sleep. They were all a tangle of limbs and legs, hot breath against the skin of each other’s throats.

The next two days brought much of the same. They had dinner together when Eddie got home from work and held hands in front of the tv. Until hand holding turned to touching and it was time for Steve to experiment being inside Eddie from a different angle. They both lost count of the number of times they came inside of each other. Well, Steve lost count. For Eddie, each one was precious and something he cherished.

On the third day, while the Saturday morning cartoons were on, Eddie’s head was in Steve’s lap while he played with his hair and rubbed his scalp. Eddie’s eyes were rolling back in his head, and he suddenly understood why cats purr. It all felt so natural, hidden away there in Eddie’s cozy trailer with the curtains drawn, like the rest of the world didn’t even exist.

But then there came the sound of footsteps bounding up to the porch, and someone tried the door handle before offering a few quick knocks.

“Hey, what’s going on in there?” The woman’s voice exclaimed. “Open up, this is the police.”

Steve’s eyes bulged and he practically pushed Eddie to the ground, trying to cover himself with the blanket. He was wearing his boxer shorts, but it made him feel very exposed.

Eddie’s hair was a mess when he sat up, and he gave Steve a curious frown. “What’s wrong with you? It’s just Robin.”

“I know,” Steve took a breath. “It just startled me, that’s all.”

Eddie threw a pillow in Steve’s face and shouted, “coming!”

“No, no, wait!” Steve lurched up and grabbed his friend's arm, pulling him back down to the couch.

Eddie gave him a few confused shakes of his head. “Are you losing it man? You knew she had the day off and might come over.”

“It’s not that,” Steve was whispering. “I want to see her I just—did you tell her…does she know…about us?”

Eddie’s face sobered. “When would I have a chance to tell her? I’ve spent every free second with you.”

“Okay good,” Steve’s shoulders sank, showing that he was clearly relieved. “Let’s keep it between us, alright? I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Anyone…ever?” Eddie was searching his companion’s eyes, hoping to find that same glimmer from the past couple days there, but it was gone. He understood that coming out could be complicated and difficult, and he didn’t think Steve would be shouting it from the hills, but surely Robin could know? They were the three amigos, the best of friends. If anyone would embrace him for exactly who he was and who he wanted to have sex with, it would be her.

Maybe he just needed more time, and that was fine, Eddie had plenty of it.

Robin knocked again, more forceful this time. “What the hell? I’m growing mold out here.”

Eddie remained still, passing his tongue over his teeth, and thought about what Steve was asking of him.

“I’m going to put some clothes on,” Steve got to his feet and jogged out of sight, to the bedroom, leaving Eddie to sit there, feeling the weight of being a secret, yet again.

“Hey!” Steve hissed from the hallway where he struggled to pull his jeans on while Eddie walked to the door. “Could you light a candle or something? It smells like sex in here.”

Yeah, sure, he’d get right on that.

Anything for you, King Steve.

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Hi! Thank you for reading! Always love hearing from you. Look out for part 2 🧡

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