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chirpsythismorning · 3 months

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Can we talk about how Jonathan might've been able to clock Mike simply because of what happened with him and Nancy in season two?

This will be a long post, so you might want to strap in or save it for later.

In Will and Mike's case, it would obviously be much different from Jonathan and Nancy's situation, given that you know, they're gay. But we still have Jonathan arguably going through a similar experience as Will, while Mike is going through a similar experience as Nancy.

In s2, we see Nancy confront Jonathan about how she waited for him before getting back with Steve, which is a revelation to him. Then they're at Murray's and she's struggling to say she loves Steve, after a handful of moments between them that felt like she might return Jonathan’s feelings. And you can clearly see it in his eyes, listening to Murray imply that they have feelings for each other, with him looking back and forth sort of in awe of what's happening, like he's starting to question if she might actually like him back.

Will doesn't have that same affordance as Jonathan to really hope, at least not anymore. Which is why these relationships in s2 and s4 end differently for these two brothers.

Based on all the signs he was seeing that Nancy felt the same, Jonathan decided to take the plunge to admit to Nancy how he felt, and at that same moment Nancy had the courage to show how she felt. In Will and Mike's case, Will wasn't ready to take the plunge to admit to Mike how he felt, at the same moment Mike didn't have the courage to show how he felt.

What's so painfully hilarious to me about all of this though, is that Jonathan arguably starts the season in the same shoes as most of the audience, where from his perspective, it's becoming obvious to him now that Will like's Mike, but that Mike does not feel the same way.

First at Rink-O-Mania, Mike appears a little uncomfortable upon hugging Will. Then as the happy couple continues on their adventure into Rink-O-Mania, he watches Will lagging behind moping. And then unfortunately he's out of commission for the rest of the evening...

But once he's sober and back to being an attentive brother the following morning, we see him watching them at breakfast, with Mike barely sparing Will a glance, all while Will is blatantly staring, almost like he's waiting for Mike to look back, only for Mike to get up and walk away.

All of these instances gotta be SCREAMING unrequited gay love to Jonathan. He's already gotten signs for years that Will is gay, these are now just the signs that are instilling his suspicions that Will has feelings for Mike. He could have easily interpreted their relationship in the early seasons as young best friends, with Will seeming to have a crush on Mike, and with them growing up and that potentially including Will's straight friend distancing himself from him because he doesn't feel the same. It's not the most unexpected thing in the world considering.

But then there's a shift.

Suddenly he's creeping up on them talking in his room. And we know he was listening in on the conversation because he brings up Owens when he sits down. As he's eavesdropping, he's probably thinking something innocent like Aww they're making up! And like, hey! Even if Mike doesn't feel the same, which is okay and entirely expected honestly, at least he still cares about Will enough to make things right after acting so out of character. Still, I'm not gonna lie, that sounded a lot like flirting to me--

Then he's knocking on Will's door like 30 minutes or less later only to find Mike and Will back on their bullshit. Mike suddenly isn't going out of his way to ignore or put Will on the back burner. In fact, he's on his bed and they're talking, again! The door is even closed this time, which is interesting. This has gotta be a good sign in Jon's eyes. Nothing to worry about! Right? Right...?

But then suddenly this shift continues, going in a direction he probably didn't expect.

I mean, this is literally an identical jancy parallel we have here with byler on the hood of the car, with Jonathan right there to witness it. Despite him maybe only now subconsciously picking up on the similarities between Will and Mike to him and Nancy here, he's at least taking note (I mean he's even got his gay map out and everything).

It isn't until the van scene happens, that I think Jonathan starts to genuinely consider his suspicions, which is that Mike might actually like Will back.

EVERY time we get a shot of Jonathan looking back at Will and Mike in the van, followed by a shot of his POV from the rearview mirror, we're faced with Mike looking at Will while Will is looking away.

As Jonathan is hearing Will confirm his suspicions about his feelings for Mike, he's simultaneously witnessing Mike not looking at Will with disgust, but something more akin to reverence. All of those moments in the van that we witnessed, including all the ways Mike looked at Will and everything that was said, Jonathan was right there.

And what's even more insane about this scene, is that it circles back to Jonathan as a character himself.

I remember when people were talking about how odd it was that we never saw Jonathan with a camera in s4. After 3 seasons in a row of making his passion for photography a big part of his identity, that part of him was apparently absent entirely this time around... But was it really?

This is the same guy that said, "Sometimes, people don't really say what they're really thinking. But you capture the right moment, it says more."

Jonathan might not have had his camera in s4, but this was without a doubt one of those moments where he captured something more.

Something that I also think get's highly overlooked about this scene, especially when it comes to Jonathan looking back at them, being followed by a shot of Mike staring at Will, is that he could see both of their reactions the whole time, from beginning to end. Will nor the audience had the affordance of knowing because Will was facing the other way at the end, while we on the other-hand were blurred from even having the chance, despite Mike literally being in the frame. But not Jonathan. He even lets us see what he sees, a few times, but not at the very end, which would have been nice after they didn't let us see Mike's reaction seconds before this.

Let's just stop right there for a second though and circle back to what I consider to be the first time Jonathan really picked up on Will's feelings for Mike, which was at the end of s3, in a sequence that is a little too relevant to the van scene if you ask me, given that they are almost direct parallels.

While these parallels are pretty spot on visually, they are also near spot on narratively when it comes to the evolution each of these characters are experiencing.

For Will in the first scene, it's sadness that he's moving away from his friends in Hawkins and also feeling like he's losing Mike, after what looks like him and El making up, which makes him scared he'll distance himself again. For Jonathan, it's sympathy for his brother who appears to have some very deep feelings for his friend, feelings he can't quite grasp yet but soon enough will.

For Will in the second scene, it's heartbreak that he has to accept that Mike will never feel the same, knowing that supporting his relationship with El (encouraging it honestly) will likely turn out just as it did last time, with him losing Mike all over again, for the last time. For Jonathan it's sympathy for his brother who has now confirmed his suspicions that the feelings he has for Mike are more than just that of a friend.

Given that this parallel reinforces the same feelings Will and Jonathan had in s3 to now, why would this not also reinforce those same feelings that Mike had in s3 to now?

In the first scene, Mike was visibly distraught, with dialogue from Hopper in the background applying a little too perfectly with what he was feeling in that moment, which was scared. He’s apparently back together with El now, despite them doing just fine as friends for the last 3 months, as well as him and Will just having finally gone back to them being on good terms again. But now, it’s like he’s right back where he started at the beginning of s3, feeling obligated to be the perfect boyfriend to El, and as a result, having no choice in his eyes but to distance himself from Will. Mike then walks into his house looking like a zombie, almost emotionless stepping into his mother's embrace.

Now, I say almost emotionless because it looks like Mike was trying to hold back showing how he truly felt in this moment. He's not crying like he did in s1 when he lost Will that first time. Time has passed and things have changed (he doesn't want things to change). And he's trying his best to keep it together. But the in-focus close-ups make it clear that he is definitely not okay.

What's so impactful about these parallels is that it presents the inner struggle both of these characters are having, both queer and experiencing doubts, but in different ways and for different reasons.

Will is the one who covers it all up with lies, hiding the tears in his eyes, because boys don't cry.

Mike is the one who has never cried to them, just to his soul (RUN AWAY! TURN AWAY! RUN AWAY! TURN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!!).

If you actually try to get a gage on Mike's in-focus emotions in that first scene vs. his out-of-focus emotions in that second scene, well they're not that far off from each other.

We go from Mike smiling vibrantly at Will, to him now slowly turning away to look back down at the painting, with whatever the hell emotion this is...

It's near impossible to catch because of how out-of-focus it is, but looking a lot closer, it honestly appears like Mike is feeling something akin to sadness that he's trying to mask. For a moment it even looks like he turns his head to wince emotionally, only to correct himself.

And call me crazy, but these shots also low-key parallel each other. Mike looking down trying to keep his emotions in check and failing miserably, only to look up and meet eyes with someone whose witnessing it.

With each shot before this of Jonathan observing Mike looking at Will, with him showing all the emotions Will never got to see and everything else in between, I wonder what Jon saw this time? Probably another thing he didn't expect.

Can you just try to imagine the silence in this van, accompanied by Will's muffled sobs, and then try to imagine Mike turning to look down at the painting, only to sneak a glance, and then go right back to looking at the painting, IN SILENCE, and then try to tell me how the assumption that Mike didn’t notice Will crying makes any sense, like realistically?

Yeah me and Jonathan are confused too.

Right now, Jonathan's probably wondering why Mike was acting a little fruity and repressed during the painting reveal. And that although he may have a penchant for being able to 'capture the right moment', Mike is sticking with his story (despite all the stalling and doubt). He is 100% straight!

And so maybe this is where Jonathan tries to accept what is being presented to him as the truth, despite the contradictions in front of him. It's likely that despite the way Mike looks at Will and acts around him, in ways he would have assumed coming from Nancy in s2 would've been evidence that she felt the same, it probably doesn't apply to Mike.

Maybe Jonathan's ready to accept that it's a lot more likely Will is experiencing unrequited love as a gay kid growing up in a small town, the most predictable experience a gay kid could go through, and in contrast Mike just feels too bad to let Will down easy.

Or who knows, maybe Mike could still be a little bit gay too...

But it doesn't matter anyways. Mike seems to be adamant about this and so there's really nothing else Jonathan can he do besides tell his brother he'll be there for him no matter what. And so he does just that.

But then Mike just has to surprise him one last time.

For those that don't know, the line Mike gives here in his monologue was in part pulled from Will's monologue in the van. Most don't know this because this line didn't make the final cut for the van scene, but in the official script the writers posted, what we find is an almost a direct parallel.

Which makes the reaction shots of Will and Jonathan directly after Mike says this all the more epic.

From Will's end he was probably hearing Mike say this and just thinking 'Damn. Well, that's what you get for using your feelings to inspire Mike to profess his love to El.'

But from Jonathan's end, I don't think his outside POV of these events overlapping was nearly as naive as his brothers understanding of the events. Because why the fuck would Mike need to use Will's feelings to inspire him to profess his love to El in the first place? Is this what Mike has been struggling with? Really? Why before every moment Mike takes action in this scene, is Will's hand literally pushing him into it? Why is Mike being so dramatic about saying I love you, stuttering and rambling about her being a superhero, not saying nearly as meaningful of things as what Will said in the van?

And then it hits him.

Mike is reminding him a little too much of another Wheeler right now...

Nancy Wheeler, who was afraid of what would happen if she accepted herself for who she really was, leading her to retreat back to the safety of Steve. Because Nancy liked Steve, but she didn't love Steve.

And now here is Mike Wheeler, who has went from being incredibly distant with Will after reuniting with El, something that is very unlike the Mike he knew in previous seasons, to something more himself again after they make up, with him looking at Will with adoration after hearing his words in the van, only to turn away and look heartbroken. Mike who is now struggling to simply tell El he loves her with Will right behind him literally yelling at him to do it.

And now it's like all those little moments are starting to add up to Jonathan.

Suddenly all those signs he picked up on from Will when he was younger are now blending in with moments Will shared with Mike. It was Mike who jumped in after him and his mom's speech to Will in the shed in s2, with tears in his eyes recalling the day that they met (without being asked, let alone pushed to). And it's Mike who is now looking like he's at war with himself as he attempts to give encouragement to El, just like he did with Will in s2, but this time he needs someone to push him to do it, and that person just so happens to be Will. After just finding out about Will's feelings and also while assuming El wants him to love her that way still, Mike is stuck.

I don't think it's takes a genius to consider Jonathan is capable of realizing how fucked they all are in this situation.

As much as Mike isn't ready for a sleuth of reasons, Will isn't ready either.

This provides a huge contrast between the bylers ², because while Jonathan and Nancy went through a similar experience to Will and Mike, them being ready to accept it and act on it didn't involve nearly as many factors and risks. Will and Mike also have the added barrier that is homophobia.

Will's internalized homophobia lies in part with assuming Mike could never feel the same based on some of the words he said in their last two fights, with parts being painfully reminiscent of the things his dad and bullies used to say about him. These are also words that contradict Mike's own words and actions from the previous seasons, things that did once give Will hope. The shame and guilt that comes with falling for your best friend, who you now know will never feel the same after being foolish enough to believe it not too long ago, and who might not even want to be your friend anymore upon finding out the truth, is understandable. He can't have hope like Jonathan can. It's just not the same.

Mike's internalized homophobia lies with assuming El wants him to love her, along with their relationship being expected and socially acceptable from everyone around him. Though unfortunately for her he feels abundantly more in love in the moments he shares with Will. Despite trying to make it work with El as hard as he could, because she's amazing and all any guy could hope for in a girlfriend, he can't ignore the fact that the feelings he has for these two people are different. The shame and guilt that comes with you, a boy, falling for your best friend, who is also a boy, and who is starting to show that he feels the same, all while you can't muster up the courage to break up with your girlfriend, nor can you muster up the courage to tell her that you love her, not when she's begging you, dying or even just simply at the end of a letter, is pretty understandable too. He can't have hope like Nancy can. It's just not the same.

Spoiler: They were not ready.

PS: I'm still not over the fact that they low-key confirmed these events elsewhere in the story...

#byler #st analysis #pocketgate #lettergate #i'm aware this is a hot (big brain) take #but i'm like 76% sure mike understood will in the van scene #also why mike is gonna finally be dealing with some personal business in s5...#just want to add that this makes the scene at Nina hit harder #also #mike trying and failing to tell el he loves her or break up with her at surfer boy and stalling because he just can't fucking do either?#mike's face when will pushes him to profess his love to el right in front of him???#honestly i dont think mike would've gone through with his monologue if he didn't think this is what el wanted in large part #i think he thought that if he did break up with her she wouldn't need him at all anymore #or more specifically if told her the truth she might hate him for it and just not want to be in his life in the aftermath of that #this is why he struggled so much with being honest #it was either lie and suffer but get to keep her in his life most likely or tell her the truth and potentially lose her and still suffer #it's just that now he has literally no choice but to conform and be with her all while knowing it's not what his heart truly wants #the heart not being true to himself jumpstarted the apocalypse #everyone act surprised #byler getting jonathan’d in s5 can be something so personal #no but imagine jon getting even more signals mike feels the same 😭#and he tries to talk to will about it but will just gets upset like pls stop why are you saying this?#or imagine him talking about it subtly with Nancy and her being like no way #only to see it for herself #maybe then Nancy would try to talk to Mike about how he’s feeling #idk I could genuinely see byler just getting byler’d individually #but it’s clear at this point Jonathan is extremely suspicious #honestly all I think it would take is him having intel about their previous fights #if he found out mike defended his behavior by insisting that they’re friends…#jonathan would just be like… oh shit.. the first lie…

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dutybcrne · 4 months

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Prior to The Confrontation, it wasn’t uncommon for Kaeya to ask Diluc to read over things for him, to correct it or because he couldn’t get certain words. It started because Kaeya needed a little help with his lessons and reading, then continued when it was clear Kaeya still struggled with certain things, especially when it came to paperwork and letters written in fancier script when they joined the knights.

#hc; kaeya #//After Diluc left; Kaeya frequently found himself trying to ask Luc for help with his paperwork #//Each and every time; being met with silence heavily soured his mood; more than the struggle of reading and writing through it already did #//He hadn’t really tried asking anybody else for help; not wanting to seem ‘incompetent’ at first #//Esp with how frustrating he found it all. Then bc it’d gone on long enough; he felt it embarrassing to bring up #//Lisa knows somewhat #//He consulted her after seeing how well she worked with Razor; asking ‘for a friend’#//She saw through it IMMEDIATELY but humored him; so he wouldn’t feel so daunted and back off from the help he needed #//She’s helped him immensely; but he still struggles with things #//I like to think eventually; he comes to ask Noelle to do smth Luc used to; and look over his docs for errors #//That much he’ll allow. Prolly actually be honest w her why; since she’s so kind to him #//Feels weird relying on someone outside of Luc for smth like that—even Addie didn’t get called on as often #//If only ever when he was at the Winery with her; bc again; he wanted to seem capable and independent to her #//But it’s smth at least #//Even if Noelle being such a sunshine and so nice to help him out like that can be disconcerting at times #//But that’s a whole other can of worms #//That I think I mentioned in a prev hc; but eh #//Tldr; he is dyslexic. Luc helped then disappeared. Kae sad. Lisa helped lots. Noelle might help more in the future #//Prolly didn’t help that Teyvat’s common language wasn’t Kae’s first language either

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koishua · 8 days

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shining solo ep 8. my reaction rn 😐😐 took it a bit hard lmao

#tp #very mixed feelings. as someone who associates herself with jeongwoo and having very similar personalities... this ep hurt a lot #idk idk #i mean i get it but i also absolutely do not get it #so many thoughts im taking this very personally what the heck #i cant really warm up to half of this part's girlies im sorry #i loved everyone on part one #as someone who also struggles with managing my social energy lvls... this was a slap in the face #bc my boy jeongwoo truly gave it his ALL the whole day and even managed to perform a couple songs for the girls #despite already having spent the whole day together #and his energy must have been SPENT already and then they pick him as MVP of the day and he has that 1:5 date with all of the girls #by himself!! which is so terrifying imagine being the one person who everyone's attention is on and you have to interact with these ppl #that you arent very comfortable with but you still try your best to give them a good time #AND THEN!! they give you NOTHING in return?? not even a recorder?? no jewel no recording nothing. just ignored like that by everyone #and i get that the girls dont know who's voting for who so they might have believed someone else was gonna give him a jewel or sth #but no one gives him anything (positive OR negative)#and yeah. he was absolutely shocked at the empty safe. i would have been too.#and why did they not give him a jewel y'all might ask??? IT WAS BC HE FELL SILENT DURING THE LAST BIT: THE DINNER #my gosh that's the part that i take offense to personally bc it's really really really difficult to always engage in convos with ppl #after spending the whole day with them already?? and your social battery is down so you quietly enjoy a simple meal??#and then all the girlies threw him away like that??#i mean yeah you're surrounded by sweet men who spend the day appealing themselves to you but come on??#i would have been so impressed by jeongwoo and thankful that he put that much effort in and would understand how difficult it is to #maintain it till the very end because not everyone has hyunsuk's boundless social energy #no offense hyunsuk i love you dearly #and also??? what's up with admitting that you lack some confidence upfront??#the girl's reasoning for giving yoshi the voice recorder was that he said he holds himself to a high standard and lacks confidence sometimes #and i get it. being confident is more attractive than someone who's always insecure and puts themselves down #(and makes the other person uncomfortable) but they were having an honest and deep convo when the thing he said in that convo was used #against him in the end? i would feel kind of betrayed too bc being able to admit that you feel insecure sometimes is a v brave thing to do!!

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britneyshakespeare · 9 months

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I don’t think he ever read any of my poems now that I think about it

#tales from diana #when we first met i told him about my poems and i gave him some free copies of this small local literary magazine they're published in #he pretended to be interested but never actually said he read them. i dont think i asked more than a couple times #but if i recall correctly he told me unprompted a few times he hadnt #perhaps thats why he thought of me as more of an artist than a poet. he had seen me draw but i dont write poems in front of ppl #and it takes one second to look at a drawing (and to not appreciate it) (as he didn't for the most part)#even though i explained often that id only been drawing for like a year and im still very much a beginner and it's a huge struggle for me #it's very very hard for me to draw i don't consider myself good at it. ive made a FEW good works but im not a good artist #im not confident but that's ok ive enjoyed my progress #there were a lot of little things id do for him that he just wouldnt acknowledge much or seem to care about #so much for trying to make an impression on ppl #i think some ppl only want to be around you so they can suck up your company and feel validated #i have to be honest. that is nothing like me at all #im fine being alone. i could never be addicted to ppl as some are.#long story short this guy never cared about me

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screampied · 3 months

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gojo hates whenever you say “bye,” to him.

“heyy. don’t say that. it’s see you later,” he corrects you, pulling you into a tight hug. his embrace was warm, you felt practically squished against him, but you never minded. he’s always loathed goodbyes, especially whenever they came from you…the love of his life, his will to live, his entire being.

it’d be the most random moments, for instance, you being on a phone call with him—you’d conclude your conversation with him before saying that word.

“no—it’s see you later, baby.”

“oh..see you later, ‘toru.”

he’s never told you why flat out why he isn’t fond of the word ‘bye’ so, you never questioned it. not once. you figured it was just another one of his personal dislikes, which was an entire list if you were being honest. the word had simply little to no meaning, yet to him it meant so much more. you find yourself sometimes pondering, wondering how a small three lettered word would hold so much meaning…

furthermore, you wouldn’t expect to find out so soon.

it’s always ‘goodbye’ or ‘bye’ and never ‘see you later’ until gojo’s laid in your arms.

clinging onto his last breaths, a hand squeezing onto yours as if he didn’t want to let go.

myriads of droplets of your own pathetic tears fell against his pale frigid skin.

your mind couldn’t fathom nor process how him. the satoru gojo, the strongest, manage to lose. not only lose his battle but lose the one and only love of his life.

“g—goodbye, baby.”

“don’t you mean see you later?” you corrected him, furrowing your eyebrows while bringing a thumb towards his cheek to lightly stroke it.

oh . . he always loved that tiny gesture, it always calmed him, soothed him, makes him think that everything would be okay.

your voice broke the more you spoke as you watched him succumb into a pure new world of peace, pure bliss.

even in final moments, he’s still got that dumb beaming grin of his. you sniffled, feeling the scorching heat reside in your heart.

you were desperate for him to stay before he struggles to bring your hand up to his lips, giving it a chaste kiss before whispering,

“i . . i know, but it’s different this time. just say it for me, one more time,” and his eyes that was once so full of life. “please.”

they looked different.

demoralized, defeated…

“. . . goodbye, satoru. i love you.”

you awaited for him to say it back, he’s always said it back, he’s even beat you to it. but like always, gojo was right.

you were too late, far too late with your timing that before you knew it . . .

he was already gone.

all thanks to your goodbye.

#★vegasbaby.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo angst #jjk angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst

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mrfoox · 8 months

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I love Fabian so fucking much how... Lucky I am 🥺

#miranda talking shit #Fabian #He's my special boy and he brings me such joy...#Apperantly i made him cry... Bc i said he'd become a good dad one day #I believe that wholeheartedly. I've told him a couple of times before too #But I asked if I had ever heard him cry before and he just went “you missed it earlier. I always cry when it comes to me being a dad”#That's why I know he'll be a good dad... Bc he wants to do it and he puts so much thinking into it....#And he said... “Miranda you're too caring and kind. That's why I could talk to you. You started to care so it became so easy to talk with #You about stuff. But with others I really struggle. I may have trust issues“#Me: 😳 omg.... The one feature I love in others and always try to express have been pointed out by someone I love???#Also I described how he basically was husband material for any girl who wants a family and he just went #“okay you're seriously boosting my ego right now” me: well good but also I'm being honest #He's kind. Thoughtful. And reflective on himself and others. He's studying for a line of work #Which have a good future and is well payed... Like yeah ofc???#I'm so happy whenever he says I am making him happy or feel confident bc... I love him so ofc I want him to feel that sort of way

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rxmye · 12 days

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" 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 "

𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 — you're his entire world, his only thought, the very illness that has corrupted his mind and body . . .

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / mentions of sleep medication / pathetic yandere / suggestive content / a character slightly aimed towards people with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: edited, Lucas first fanfic is out !! . . click here to read it !! <3

He was someone with fleeting attraction—yet a hopeless romantic, who'd spend most of his class time doodling away in his notebook instead of taking actual notes, writing these scenarios that played out in his mind—tired hazy doodles of small characters, blurry lines of writing, scribbled out text, as he struggled to stay awake—

He had never had a proper sleeping schedule, and if he did he'd never stick to it, a night owl who often faced the consequences of his own actions, sleep medication was something he was all too familiar with, the feeling of being restless without sleep, his nerves always on edge, dark circles under his eyes made him feel insecure, and alarmingly out of character.

He felt something touch his back, he froze, nerves all over the place, a pit growing in his stomach as he turned almost instinctively to face whoever touched him, pushing their hand off harshly . . . "Hey Yoichi . . what's up with you man, why so aggressive?!" Lucas asked . . and then he froze, letting out a nervous and rather embarrassed chuckle, "Ah—um . . sorry Lucas . . just feeling a little tired that's all", he replied softly, voice barely coming out.

To be quite honest, when he first saw you, Yoichi thought nothing of it, he sat at the very back and you for some reason, sat in front of him, not that he minds, you're presence covered him from the teachers eyesight, which allowed him to do whatever he wanted, he was even able to drift off to sleep during that period.

However, it wasn't until he found himself, drawing tiny versions of you in his notebook, little doodles, pink ink staining the paper as he hearted your initials together—his name then your last name . . your name then his last name . . . names of future children—that he realized he was crushing on you . . . big time.

His emotions was fleeting, it had always been, he didn't think much of it . . it was just a simple crush, everyone has one of those, and they go away with time.

Yoichi was a punctual student—and a well organized one—he'd rarely forget his books, much less the notebook with his embarrassing doodles of him and you, it would ruin his image to be quite honest . . yet for some reason he had forgotten it in class today, it could've been his ever-growing restlessness due to a lack of sleep, or maybe the caffeine that's been fucking with his head since early in the morning—he sighed—knocking himself out of his own thoughts, as he twisted the doorknob, hopefully the teacher left the class unlocked.

The door was open, to his utter relieve . . . wait . . . "y/n?", he spoke, taken aback—you were soundly asleep on your desk—you looked so at . . peace . . . calm? . . . Nothing could describe the emotions he felt as he approached you, slowly reaching over to his desk and grabbing his notebook, quickly stuffing it in his backpack—he should go . . , that would be the best course of action . . .

Yet he couldn't . . . he knelt down on the floor, leaning his head on the desk, starring at your face, looking into every curve and line, in his eyes every imperfection just made you even more perfect, the pattern of your breath was soothing to his otherwise restless mind, a soothing scent radiated off of you, and for the first time in months, he felt sleepy . . . like he could sleep without a care . . . everything felt so right. . .—nothing felt displaced or disoriented.

That was the day that started it all, it seems, Yoichi had started forming something that was akin to obsession, he couldn't sleep at all without you—a piece of you—something that reminded him of that calming scent that he felt that day, you calmed his overdriven nerves, you halted his troubles for more than a fleeting moment.

Yoichi knew what he was doing was odd, especially when he found himself picking up the wrapper you threw out, and taking inhaling it, his eyes growing half lidded—he felt like a drug addict—drunk off of you . .

Fleeting touches would tick off his ever delusional mind, a small compliment could set him on overdrive and in the back of his head he knew he was growing addicted, a pit in his stomach grew as he felt slightly disgusted with himself, with the obscene and rather degrading things he'd do, just to get something touched by you.

Lucas stared at his friend, who seemed no better than dead, "Are ya' okay?" he asked, looking him up and down, "You look like a train-wreck", he stated half out of concern and half out of clear disdain and possibly curiosity, "Is it normal?", Yoichi spoke up, taking a gulp of air as he continued, "to want someone so badly that it's hard to explain—like—a part of me feels obsessed, like I feel like carving my own heart out and showing them just to prove my love wont be enough—they could claw out my fingernails—and from where I'm standing, I'd still look at them with only love . . . but at the same time I feel disgusted with the feelings I feel—", Yoichi kept blabbering on, until his friend shushed him, taking a sip of his drink as he jokingly replied, "I mean . . if you love them that much, then their clearly the one . . ."

Yoichi blanked out, as Lucas chuckled, he has no idea how much of his teasing words Yoichi would take to heart that day nor of it's lasting consequences . . .

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

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flangore · 3 months

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❥ scarlet plumes

feat.: Valentino/f!reader

warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, drugging, rough sex, choking, punishments, manipulation, Valentino is his own warning

You were not the type to get into trouble.

Being confrontational, at least attempting to have things go your way through protests and complaints, had never seemed worth it; not when the one you were up against was Valentino, who always got what he wanted in the end, one way or another.

All too often, you had seen the way he punished disobedient whores; all too often, you had watched the way they were still limping days after, bruises blooming on skin if they had been lucky, bullet wounds trying to heal, oozing blood, if they had been less so.

There was no reason to willingly go through the struggle of disobeying when simply giving in, caving to Val's wishes and orders, was so much easier.

When Valentino told you to bend over, you did so readily, spreading your thighs apart in offering; when Valentino ordered you down onto your knees, you went obediently, lips dropping open, praying he wasn't in a bad mood, unpredictable as his sudden bursts of anger often made him.

You were not the type to get into trouble, and yet you currently found yourself on the floor, crumpled in front of Valentino's boots, cheek warm and stinging.

“Now, why don't you tell me what happened, baby?” His tone was a low coo, almost gentle enough to soothe your sobs. “You've never acted out like this before. What happened to my well-behaved girl, hm?”

In your defense, it really hadn't been your fault — you hadn't meant to do it.

Your night shift had been supposed to be a simple session for a well-known client, consisting of some lap dancing and a blow job; that was what he had paid for, at least. Your surprise when he had begun ripping your skimpy panties off you, forcing your legs apart, hands greedy, mouth drooling, high on some drug, was therefore understandable in your eyes; as was the way you, in your shock, had lashed out, claws scratching at his chest in order to push him off you. A split second later, the side of your face had ached with pain, his flat palm having met your cheek before he had stormed out of the room, screaming and spitting.

Valentino had been with you after barely any time at all.

“I didn't—”, you choked out, voice trembling, “I didn't mean to do it, sir, I swear, he just startled me, and, I mean, he didn't pay for more, he wanted to —, he wanted to—”

One hand of his cupped your cheek, golden claw gently tracing over your jaw. Even with him crouched down in front of you, he seemed ridiculously tall. “Hey—, relax, sweetheart.” At an exhale, red smoke coiled around you, assaulting your senses. Instinctively, your raised shoulders fell as tension bled from your muscles. “I get it. I understand.”

With how utterly merciless Valentino was known to be, it took a few moments for you to actually understand the meaning of his words. Even then, you barely dared to let go of the dreadful fear curled in your stomach. “You do?”

“Of course I do”, he said, eyes half-lidded behind heart-shaped glasses. His voice was soft enough to cause more tears, now of relief, to drip down your cheeks. “You know, I was really surprised when that patron came up to me, demanding to have you fired, if not killed for your disobedience. You're usually such an obedient girl — I was wondering what actually happened. Good job for being honest with me.”

Hope bloomed in your chest, your eyes widening. Streaks of mascara and eyeshadow, black and colourful, ran down your wet cheeks. “So you're not upset with me?”

“Upset with you? Of course not, amorcito. You were scared, that's alright. It happens, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your breath hitched in a stifled sob, lips, the gloss now smudged, curling up into a pitiful mockery of a smile. “Yeah. Thank you, Val.”

This could have gone much worse. Your hands were still shaking, anxiety thrumming underneath your skin, and yet Valentino didn't even seem particularly upset. Some higher being — whether that was Lucifer or God, you didn't really care — must have blessed you, somehow.

“Of course, baby.” The moment Valentino stood once more, he towered over you, his shadow swallowing you up. “Now, follow me, yeah?”

Your legs struggled to support your weight, knees feeling weak as you trailed behind him through corridors you didn't recognise. Your steps were unsure, the heels, ridiculously high, only adding to your troubles. You have half a mind to stop yourself from asking where you're going.

It's entirely unnecessary, either way.

You arrive but a moment later, the noise of a heavy door falling shut causing you to flinch; where Valentino was in front of you just a second ago, he was now behind you, a looming presence at your back.

It was a studio; not the fancy kind actual stars like Angel Dust filmed in, but a smaller one, the light bulb flickering, the sheets on the bed stained. Voxtech cameras were pointed at the mattress.

“Val—?”

“Bend over, baby.”

“You said you're not angry with me.” The words tumbled out of your mouth without your permission, a panicked high-pitched tone. “You said you're not—”

“And I'm not, as long as you hurry the fuck up and do what I tell you to.” His voice was sharp. Instinctively, you obeyed, bending over the edge of the bed, nausea churning in your stomach. “See, that guy you were a bitch to was a regular. Good money. I gotta show him you're sorry, sweetheart. You understand that, right?”

For a moment, you didn't get a word out, throat tight as tears spilled past your lashes. Eventually, you managed a shaky; “Yes, Valentino.”

“There we go. Knew you'd get why I have to do this.”

Large hands settled on your thighs, the touch making you flinch; his claws, all too sharp, teased at your skin, leaving faint scratch marks, before they prodded at your folds.

This, by now, should have been routine. It was; and yet, the idea of this being a punishment had you tensing, muscles locking up while Valentino thrust one claw into you, only to grunt, irritated.

“Ungrateful bitch”, he spat, one hand settling on your lower back, pinning you to the bed while another fumbled with his belt, metal clinking. “That's what I get for tryin' to be nice and preparing you — tightest cunt I've ever seen. Loosen the fuck up or deal with it.”

“I'm sorry.” Your voice shook, though the threat of violence, of pain, didn't help with relaxing in the slightest. Instead, you instinctively clenched around the digit, only to whimper when he yanked it back out.

“Sure doesn't seem like it.”

The fat head of his cock, pierced, the metal cold, pressed against you, then pushed inside; you were unable to stop yourself from letting out a pitiful noise, sounding more like a wounded animal than a practiced porn star.

Valentino didn't seem to mind it one bit.

Your vision blackened out for a moment when he bottomed out inside of you, the pain agonising. For a moment, you were certain he was tearing you from the inside out. His hips slapped against your plush ones, building up a steady rhythm; one set of his hands grabbed onto your hips, claws digging into your skin, using his grip for leverage to pull you back against him

“Some wetness would help us out here, y'know”, Valentino mumbled, complaining, bitching, like this was your fault. It probably was.

The only response you were able to come up with was a choked out sob, a dull ache steadily present in your abdomen, only interrupted by sharp stabbing pain whenever Valentino's tip hit an impossibly deep spot inside of you.

This couldn't have possibly gotten worse — or so you thought, tears dripping down your face, your claws ripping the sheets as you scrambled for purchase, only for it to get so much more agonising when, all of a sudden, his hand closed around your throat, squeezing.

You weren't able to breathe.

Instinctively, you clenched around him, thighs shaking. If he wasn't still holding you up, you would have collapsed.

“Fuck, you're so damn tight.” Valentino groaned, low and raspy. His tongue lapped at your neck, leaving trails of pink saliva to drip down your shoulders, your chest. “We could've had such a pleasant time together, baby, if only you hadn't been such a disobedient slut. Hate that you're making me do this.”

His pace was unforgiving, the metal of his belt buckle hitting your hip with every other thrust, surely leaving bruises. Not that it mattered — Valentino did provide you with full coverage makeup, after all.

Out of the corner of your eye, you focused on the red dots of the many cameras, blinking, recording. By now, numbness spread through you, a small blessing. You weren't certain just how long it went on; only that, eventually, Valentino came with a groan, filling you up, making you whimper.

When his grip on your throat loosened for a split second, allowing you to suck a burning breath into your lungs, it felt like Heaven.

“Use your words, baby. Talk to me.”

“Val, 'm sorry—”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, the words barely audible through sobs, “I'm sorry, Val, I'm sorry—”

Suddenly, his hand, still on your throat, yanked your head up, his lips clashing against yours; the very moment you opened your mouth, pliant with submission, with exhaustion, smoke flooded it, you choking on it.

Your mind felt muddled, mouth dry even as saliva trickled out of your lips, jaw slack.

Faintly, you were able to feel his cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs, sticky.

“Now”, Valentino said, voice a sultry purr, “Why don't you wait here, I'll send you your client and you apologise properly to him?”

Mind filled with scarlet plumes, you barely knew what you were agreeing to, nodding mindlessly. “Yes, Valentino.”

“That's what I like to hear. Good girl.”

When multiple pairs of footsteps echoed through the room, you, even in your hazy state, had the bad feeling that you were going to be having a long night.

i won't lie i didn't proofread this yet.. tomorrow... ALSO FIRST POST YIPPEEE

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catgirlwizard · 1 year

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#personal #i just need to rant somewhere about how much i love my partner!!!!!#he's so sweet and supportive and its so nice being with another autistic trans person with ptsd cause theres so much less about myself that #i have to explain. even though we're different people and have different reactions and feelings and opinions theres still that commonality #like even if i love the texture of velvet and he hates it. i know what its like to feel a texture and feel like my hand is tingling and my #anxiety spike at little sensory things like that. thats just an example but its really nice having someone who is their own person but #still understands the feelings i have and i can understand his. and he's SO incredibly patient. and he's a much more literal and straight #forward person than i'm used to which is such a nice change of pace. growing up autistic there were so many situations where people said or #did one thing but meant another and i struggled to understand them and it led to getting hurt and learning to be hyperaware and overanalyze #every interaction to find out how people were upset with me to the point the littlest thing would be a travesty. but with him its so simple #he means the things he says and doesn't obfuscate or lie to me about stuff he tries to be as open and honest with me as he can and if he #doesn't explain something it's because he doesn't know how to express it not because he's hiding it. i wish i could be more like him #and im trying really hard to learn that and unlearn the tendencies i picked up in toxic situations that make communication hard for me.#he makes me really excited for the future. and he makes me feel safe and supported in a way ive never felt in any relationships before.#its nice knowing i can just be myself around him. all versions of myself and he won't be upset with me for any of them. even if maybe he #should be upset when i get bitchy. but when i start getting annoyed over little things he doesnt pick up on it which gives me time to #analyze why im upset and correct my behavior and do better and calm down instead of getting more overwhelmed and not having any way to #express it except the passive aggressive tendencies i learned throughout my childhood. and when i apologize for that he says he didnt #pick up on things and that i can't help how i feel because its a gut reaction not something i choose. and hes right but also even if i cant #choose how i feel. i can still work on how i react to feelings. and i want to keep getting better at reacting in a more constructive way.#he really honestly values me communicating with him and telling him how i feel. which is SO SO SO incredible and im so lucky to have a #partner who genuinely cares about how im feeling and wants to work with me on it and know how to help because for so long i havent been in #situations where i can express feelings so i just bottle it all up and try to deal with it on my own because people before have used me #talking about feelings as a way to twist things around and blame me for their own problems. or invalidated how i felt. or not cared.#but when i talk to him i know everything he says is genuine so even through all my trauma and paranoia i know i can trust him hes proven #himself to he honest and genuine and legitimate enough times i can trust he's not faking it thats just really the type of person he is and #its so amazing and im incredibly lucky to have someone so patient and kind and supportive in my life <3 #and for the first time in a relationship i don't feel terrified of the future! i'm not constantly thinking about when he'll leave me or #when i'll leave him. or how things could go wrong between us and trying to prepare for that so i don't get hurt. i just think about all the #ways i want to build a real future together with him. and when we talk about future stuff like wanting a house even if we might never

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kingconia · 8 months

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TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS WITH A READER, WHO IS INSPIRED BY THE PROTAGONIST FROM THEIR STORIES

A/N: I didn't add Kalim or Jamil, because I feel their storyline is too much Aladdin & Jafar inspired already to do anything else with them.

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— That was definitely a dislike from the first sight. He predicted you to be his future reason of headache as soon as the mirror sent you to the Heartslabyul;

— Riddle sees you as an air-headed fool, who only asks too many unnecessary things, daring to question the wishes of the Red Queen, instead of serving to your dorm as a proper student would do;

— You, from the other side, struggle with understanding what makes Riddle hate you so much. You were nothing but kind towards him, always suggesting to eat some sweets together, and trying to ask him to take a break from his studies to hang out with you or others;

— When he overhears that your signature spell makes you others to tell you the truth, Riddle is... Intimidated. He is afraid that you will use is against him, and so, he starts ignoring you more often.

•

”Housewarden acts like an asshole towards you, though.”

Riddle doesn't even need to think twice to recognise a loud voice of Ace Trappola, another troublemaker in his form. He knows that he should just give him a punishment and leave for a lesson, but instead, he hides in the nearest bush, waiting to hear the rest of the conversation.

”Oh, Ace. You are being rude,” you mutter softly, sighing at your classmate. ”Perhaps, a housewarden doesn't like me, but this feeling is not necessarily mutual.”

Riddle raises his brows in surprise. Why, though? He is aware that his attitude is nothing but awful when it comes to you. He doesn't have a proper reason for that, either.

”You should, really,” Ace rolls his eyes. ”Dude has a problem with you liking white. And what else? Being nice?”

That isn't true. He is fine with you liking white—though, he admittedly got frustrated when you asked him on your first day why painting roses red, if they are prettier when they are white—and being nice. He just considers you too naive for this world.

”I think, you are... Misjudging him.”

That is right, Riddle mutters mentally. Tell him, Y/n.

”I think, the reason why housewarden is so... Let's say, annoyed by me, it is because I am everything he grew up hating and being restricted with. And it is harder, when something you should never be interested in, is nice and interesting. I think, housewarden is just confused.”

He feels his cheeks blushing furiously.

What did you say—

”And I think you are just being delusional,” Ace chuckles, patting your shoulder softly. ”Now, please, let's get out of here. I want to find Deuce.”

Riddle listens to the sound of your rushing steps, but he can't care less about it now. All he can do, is to recite your words, again and again.

Does he really think you as a nice and interesting?

Yes.

Does it make him hate you even more?

No, but he wishes it could work this way.

Until now, though, he merely returns to his studies. Maybe, you can be honest with yourself and everyone, but this kind of thing is not for him at all.

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— Leona didn't notice you at first. Honestly, never planned too, until you started to cling to him in some idiotic attempts to be... What? Friends?;

— You remind him so much of Cheka, but he actually likes his nephew deep inside. And your presence is absolutely insufferable;

— You are too childish and annoying, and all you do is sway your tail as you try to befriend him, while pretending that you actually like him. Leona knows you have ulterior motives. Stop lying to him!

— He finds it stupid how someone so moronic as you managed to pull out such an interesting signature spell. Manipulating dreams of others? How cruel.

•

”Stop doing that,” Leona hisses, digging in your wrist as you try to touch his hair. ”I am seriously going to kill you, if you keep doing this. Do you hear that?!

A few weeks ago—approximately since you figured out your magic—Leona started saw dreams. Very colourful ones, cheerful even. And each, with the same meaning: he becomes the king, and his family and people adores him.

He hates it.

And he hates you for doing that.

Because, of course, he doesn't need your fucking pity. Your condescension. Your gifts. He doesn't need to be mocked!

”Ah? Leona-sama, what is it?” You blink, confused.

”What is your problem, huh?” He hastily jumps on his legs, towering on you. ”Don't you have anything to do? Go and mind your business, brat!”

Your lostness shifts in sadness. You are not scared of him, you are never are—another proof that you don't take him seriously—but you dare to look at him like that. As a kicked puppy.

”What did I do?”

”Stop sending me these stupid dreams! I don't need your pity, do you hear me?!” He yells, still gripping your wrist tightly. ”Go and dream of your family or something, instead, would you?”

”I... I am sorry,” you mumble, and your eyes dart on the floor.

Leona closes his mouth, when realisation dawns on him. You don't have a family to dream about; you are an orphan. Yours, the previous crown family, were killed by his great predecessors.

He doesn't know why he feels bad, when you picked the fight first.

”I will never bother you again, Leona-sama. I apologise.“ You repeat, and your voice suddenly sounds numb.

That is not the sight of you he, or anyone else, was used to. Not a single emotion on your face. You just snatch your wrist from his hold, before leaving him alone as he asked to.

”You are such a jerk,” Ruggie whistles from behind, appearing almost from nowhere.

”Shut up.”

”You know that they can't send any control dreams, right?” He continues, hands on his hips.

”What?” Leona unwillingly turns head on his vice.

”Dunno, but they only can adjust if it is going to be nightmare or a good dream,” Ruggie yawns. ”They are just a first-year, so... It is your brain that decides where is where for now.”

Fuck.

Leona hisses furiously.

He is so fucked up.

Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵

— Oh, so this is love? He notices you in the crowd of other students, as you flinch from loud voices from dynamics, clearly knowing very little of this world, and he is amused. Someone is clearly more social awkward than he is;

— Azul thinks you don't like him that much, though, because you only wave at him, and when he once tried to speak, you merely nodded and smile all the time without answering him properly;

— It is until twins tell him that you don't have a voice. You were brought to this world completely mute, because of the family curse, and though you hear everything, your only way to communicate with others is writing. Or a sign language;

— But if anything gods blessed you is your magic. Everything you touch turns to gold, and that is actually the main reason why you were kept isolated over years. Azul is over heels for you now...

•

”I am glad that you took time to accept my invitation, Y/n.”

Azul locks his hands together, looking at you with unhidden excitement. He is always too nervous in your company—luckily, you can't read a room—but today is a special day.

You smile at him, instead of answering.

”The reason why I asked you to came here, it is because I have a deal for you,” he continues carefully, weighing his every word. ”Do you see that?”

He points with his finger at the middle of the table. There is very beautiful necklace with pearls and a little seashell, looking quite normal and mundane. You nod again.

”That is something that could break your curse,” he explains, enjoying the way your eyes widen in the poor shock. ”Yes, yes, you heard me right. With that, you could speak easily.”

Azul can't help but soften as you tear up instantly. There is a whole minute, when he fights an urge to give it to you for free, but... He built his reputation too long to break it so easily.

”But, of course, I will need something from you in return.”

You tilt your head in question.

”I...”

I need you to love me.

”...I need you to use your power for my business when it will be required.”

And with that, Azul quickly shoves another contract to you. You blink a few times, but there is no back thoughts in your head. Quickly, as if afraid that he will change his mind, you took the pen, and leave your signature on all places, where it was needed.

Ah... Angelwish, why are you so naive! It kills him! What if he tried to use you? You didn't even read a contract! You really should be glad that Azul loves you so much.

Before he realises that, you are already putting a necklace on yourself.

One second, two. Three.

You are staring at him.

”Well?” He asks, anxiously.

”A... Azul?”

His heart drops.

Your voice is amazing. And hearing you saying his name is even better than he expected. He blushes.

”Azul... Thank you?”

”S-sure.”

Seems, like it is his turn to be speechless...

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— He originally had nothing against you... Until other students didn't start to call you the most beautiful person in the world, following you everywhere obsessively, and suggesting you to become the next housewarden;

— Vil now officially hates you. Each time you come to him ends up with short anger impulses that he hardly hides from you, and he wishes you could just disappear;

— He is quite... Cruel with you. He wants you to change your dorm, actually, so he desperately pushes you to the edge by giving you impossible tasks to fullfil, and turning others against you;

— And he thinks your signature spell, speaking and controlling animals is another proof that you should leave Pomefiore for Savanaclaw.

•

“I don't think you are stupid, un petit entraîneur.”

Vil narrows his eyes, leaning slightly forward from his balcony. The sight of his vice speaking with you—hunter's interest in you was his another concern—annoys him instantly.

”What do you mean, Rook?” There is a big cat in your lap, clearly another of your minions.

”You know that our dear housewarden wants you out of here,” he murmurs, moving closer to you. ”A fair exchange with Savanaclaw, I would say. He doesn't like you here.”

You sigh.

”I figured it out, trust me. He made it very clear by always putting me in dangerous situations and giving me outdated products for skin, making me look like a fool in front of others.”

You don't mention how he makes you clean dark and messy rooms of other students.

”Yet, you are not willing to give up?” Rook touches the strand of your hair curiously.

”You know, I actually liked him a lot,” you admit suddenly, patting the cat behind its ear. ”Vil was the world for me. I was so amazed by him. By how collected he was, how hard he worked. I was excited to become his student... I wished to show him what he is worthy of. That others see his hard work.”

Vil's breath hitches. He remembers you mentioning that you were his fan, but he punished you for this remark; he didn't need to be so violently degraded. But... Was it a truth, then?

”...It is in the past now. I witnessed his true colours, and I will not tolerate it,” your smile twists in something more vicious, a ghostly fondness leaving your pretty face. ”He doesn't need to be scared of me being better anymore. Because I am going to be so much worse.”

He shudders as he hears that, your voice cold, and eyes gleaming dangerously. And as if Rook addresses him, he sighs suddenly, with the strange excitement in his voice:

”Oh, mon doux karma. What had you done?”

Idia Shroud. 💙

— From the minute you open your mouth in his presence , Idia knows he will hate you desperately... It is not serious, though;

— You are unbelievably loud, and too cheerful, and too proud, and you are so self-centred? Also, a fucking bimbo. Idia has no idea why everyone so into you, and what you are even doing in Ignihyde! Go away!

— You annoy him so much, and he actually hates the way you try to befriend him and make him more normie! Stop be like that! You are not welcome!

— Idia is absolutely not impressed that your signature spell is an instant tactics creation. Fuck you, by the way.

•

“You do know, that doors exist, right?” Idia hisses, not even stopping his game to spare you some attention.

”I do!” You say, climbing through the window with a loud thud.

”Then, why don't you use them, idiot?!”

Idia has no the slightest idea why anyone, let alone you of all people—he means, since you genuinely think that it is healthy to spend all your time outside of the room—would want to become his friend. But here you are. Trying to befriend him for a month already.

”Because you never open the door, Idia-sama,” you shrug easily.

”Take a hint, maybe.”

You close the window behind yourself, taking place behind his chair. Putting elbows on it, you hum thoughtfully, glancing from Idia to the screen of the computer, where the game flashes on. Another few minutes, and familiar yelps fill the room:

”Shit!”

Game over.

”Idia-sama,” you frown, ”maybe, I can help you?”

Idia snickers, rubbing his tired eyes. As if.

”Have you ever played this game, even?”

”No,” you murmur shyly, scratching the back of your neck. ”But I am good at tactics. And it is combat game, correct?”

Idia ponders for a while. That is surprising, because... You are actually absolutely correct. For once.

”Sit down, first year,” Idia exclaims, suddenly excited. ”I am going to teach you how to play this game.”

You smile widely, doing as it was told.

Finally, you cracked the code! And they said you weren't for this dorm...

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— Of course, he missed you as the new student at first, since he forgot to arrive at the orientation day. But it is not that long as he starts hearing others praising you, Lilia especially;

— You are quickly becoming the part of the school life as everyone loves you, and calling you ’the heart of the school’. And while Malleus wants to befriend you, too... He also can't help but feel envious of how easy it is for you. The socialization;

— You are quick to fall asleep everywhere, much like Silver. And since Malleus can't find courage to speak to you, he wanders around, when you are asleep at the strangest places, instead;

— When the first overblot incident happens, your signature spell kicks in. To everyone's horror, it is absolutely terrifying. Your magic is about thorns. Thorns, that wrap around Riddle's weakened body, when he touches you. He almost dies. And the same thing happens with Ace, who accidentally brushes your skin. Now... Everyone shun you away.

•

”Hello, Malleus-sama,” you mutter, eyes sleepy as you look around. ”I apologise.”

Malleus doesn't quite mind you falling asleep in the class, where his gargoyle's researches are going currently. He is the only member, anyway. But he nods.

”I had never seen you here before,” he notices in a poor attempt of the small talk.

You shrug.

”There is no other students here. And it is better for me not to show up around them.”

What a familiar thinking process... Somehow, he finds it easier: to approach you know, when you are not everyone's favourite anymore.

”I see. You can stay, then. I am not welcomed by them either, so no one is going to enter this classroom.”

You offer him a smile. It is short, strained at the edges, but still sweet. Malleus thinks he understands how you so easily charmed others in the last months; you are much like sunshine, when you are happy. It is a shame you are not, anymore.

”You know, Malleus-sama, I always wanted to become your friend,” you admit suddenly, making him open his eyes in surprise. ”And, I think, you wanted to be mine friend, too.”

You? Why would someone like you want to have him as your friend?

”And why would you think that?”

You fold arms on your chest slowly.

”You are always here, when I am sleeping,” Malleus feels blush touching the tips of his pointy ears. You elaborate. ”I am not sure people realise, but I sleep too much not only because I am lazy, but also because I feel surroundings better like this. I remember everything I hear in my sleep, and I do feel if someone is around.”

Ah. So, that is the secret of yours. And he wondered how you master in all your classes, when you sleep all the time...

”...I see,” Malleus mutters, ashamed. ”I apologise, then.”

He reminiscences of how often he whispered you some nonsense when you slept—childish complaints about how he hates you for being so easily loved by others, random poems that came to his mind as he sat down by your side, stories from his childhood—and feels like disappearing in the shame wouldn't be that bad.

”You know, Malleus-sama, you and I... We are not so different. We both do what we have to do to keep our loved ones to ourselves,” you sit down on the couch beside him slowly. ”But it leads only to one thing.”

Malleus gazes at you curiously as you suddenly curl on his lap, much like a cat. Your eyes met as he helps you to settle more comfortably.

”To destiny?” He asks aloud, tilting his head.

”To pain.”

There is a beat of silence in which your smile suddenly appears to be more bitter, less serene. Malleus doesn't know what happened with you in details, and how awfully these changes in your reputation affected on you, but he can say that it was hard.

”Now, if you don't mind, and I believe, you don't, Malleus-sama, I would like to dream a little bit.” You warn him, already closing your eyes, not really waiting for the answer.

Still, Malleus nods. Though that is not something you can see.

”Sleep, then... Beastie,” he sighs, patting your hair gently.

You snicker, before your breath slows down, alarming that you completely drifted off.

Malleus stares at you openly now.

Ah, who would've thought? He had finally made a friend.

Part two with Leona & Vil is here.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus x reader #vil schoenheit #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #malleus draconia x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

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vixstarria · 5 months

Text

Intimacy

Hello friends, have some soft Act 2 Astarion.

Astarion’s struggle with sex and intimacy. Connected with my other fics but is a standalone, per usual.

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, soft Astarion

Hurt/comfort, some fluff if you squint, love, angst, mutual pining, Act 2 spoilers, some fairly softcore smut

Approximately 1,600 words.

“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he told you. You’d replayed that conversation over and over countless times in your mind, since.

You had no idea what you were doing either. Oh, navigating an ordinary relationship was simple enough, and you’d had your fair share of those – even if they’d all ended in disappointment at best, so far. Being with someone who’d just escaped 200 years of abuse, however... That was something new.

“I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex.”

Well that was a fuck-up. He was walking sex. ...Most likely due to sheer force of habit, so necessary for survival over all those years, but still.

“I love you.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...

You were in over your head too. Completely. Hopelessly. In love with this catastrophe of a man.

What were you to do with him now?

Wait for him to take the lead in every physical interaction? It wasn’t in your nature to be so passive. He knew this. And you were sure he would love to be treated like spurned glass all of a sudden.

Continue as you were? Even though now all you could think about was whether a touch might bring up a repulsive memory? Assume that you could singlehandedly overwrite centuries of disgust and loathing, overnight? How presumptuous and overbearing that would have been.

Communicate? Ask? Listen? Sure. Absolutely. You did. Or tried, anyway. You were about as good at talking about these things as he was. And you didn’t really trust him to be completely honest at this point. Whether with you or his own self.

And so you explored. Slowly, cautiously and attentively.

The most innocent touches seemed to bring him an inordinate amount of joy. You weren’t surprised.

Passing him a vial of poison for his weapons and letting your fingers brush and caress one another’s, briefly. Wordlessly running a stray hand along his waist and planting a quick kiss under his ear while you walked past him as he stood talking with someone. Lingering with your foreheads or noses touching lightly after a kiss.

He leaped at any opportunity to massage your sore muscles or help you apply a salve, and you let him. It seemed he wanted to take care of you, and was working out all the ways how.

He still pleasured you in different ways, at times.

“You don’t have to...”

“I want to,” he said.

He just chose to keep his own pants on, now. You weren’t sure about his motivations. Could it be guilt? Or a misguided sense of self-worth? Did he still think this is all he was good for? Or, maybe you were completely overthinking it, and he was still just desperately horny, even if taking a step back. He was more present than before though, you could tell that much.

You considered his reactions to other forms of touch, careful not to make your observation obvious.

He hated being scratched. The entire area of his back covered in scars was off-limits for anything but embraces. He enjoyed playful bites, both giving and receiving. And more than anything, he loved holding you close, feeling as much of your body at once as possible, basking in its warmth.

In turn, you were more than happy to wrap yourself around him when you could.

“Why do you even like this?” he asked, apprehensive about it at first. “You don’t need to pretend for my sake. I can’t give you any warmth.”

“I can give you mine,” you said, simply. “Besides, you obviously don’t remember what it’s like to lie in a puddle of sweat with someone who runs hot. This is a nice change.” you added after a moment of contemplation.

You meant what you said, but you were dying to drag him into a hot bath, just to know what it would feel like for him to be warmed through. Maybe you’d get the chance once you got to Baldur’s Gate.

There happened to be a private room available at Last Light Inn that night. The group unanimously agreed that you and Astarion would take it, while the rest of your companions bunked in the common.

“For Shar’s sake, piss off, none of us want to see or hear you two,” were the exact words of their blessing, delivered by Shadowheart. Karlach sanctified it by throwing a (deftly dodged) half-eaten apple at Astarion’s head.

“Especially not hear!”

“I know this may come as a shock, but I’m actually not too fond of beds,” he said.

“New memories, Astarion,” you shook your head. “Beds are non-negotiable. I wasn’t too fond of rutting in the dirt either.”

“I’ll never grow tired of how poetic you are,” he smiled, unceremoniously throwing his gear on the floor. “New memories, you say?”

A while later, you were straddling Astarion’s hips as he sat shirtless on the edge of the bed.

“You know, you never did tell me what you like,” you sighed, your fingers in his hair as he kissed your neck.

“Oh, what does anyone like? It’s all the same in the end,” he said, running his hands along your thighs.

“That’s not true,” you murmured in his ear. “I can show you some things that are pretty unique to you right now,” you said and ran the tip of your tongue along the lower inner edge of his ear, making him shudder and let out a small moan.

“You little devil, when did you figure that out?” he breathed.

“When I happened to brush your ear a while back, like this,” you giggled, repeating the hand movement on his other ear, making him catch his breath slightly again, “and you just about started purring.”

He just chuckled in response.

“So what other secrets are you hiding?” you purred, kissing around his ear. “I might just need to kiss and caress every inch of your body to find out.”

"Sounds like a terrible chore,” he said, falling back onto the bed and pulling you with him. “You don’t want to do that.”

“Shut up and let me cherish you.”

You kissed down along one side his neck, slowly, taking your time, pausing to lightly lick or nibble on any spot that made him hitch his breath. He was putty in your hands by the time you reached his collarbone.

“Just don’t go any lower,” he said breathlessly.

You hummed your agreement. You couldn’t handle going any lower yourself – you were completely intoxicated with the scent of his skin and the sound of his sighs of pleasure, if you went any lower, you would keep going, and you didn’t think it was a day for that yet.

You continued up the other side of his neck instead.

You hesitated for a moment before your lips reached the bite marks left by Cazador, but Astarion made no indication that he didn’t want you to keep going, and so you continued. He let out a soft whimper as your lips brushed the scars.

“No?” you pulled back slightly, your hot breath still on his skin. He was lying with his eyes shut, head thrown back, neck completely exposed to you.

“Yes...” he whispered, hoarsely. “Very yes... Softly...”

You continued, lingering with your lips on the scars, as his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, snapping them against his own and grinding you against an unmistakable erection.

“I want you to make those marks your own... Yours and no one else’s...” he rasped.

This is probably a mistake, you thought, but you could barely help yourself as you moaned into his neck and ran your tongue over the scars, making him growl and grind you into himself harder. The friction, the knowledge that he wanted it too was driving you mad.

“I’m going to come if you don’t stop that,” you begged.

“Go ahead,” he groaned.

“Not without you.”

Something in the energy changed then, and you lifted yourself off him, sitting up. Astarion stayed on his back a moment longer, before exhaling and also raising himself into a sitting position. You were still on his lap, facing him.

“Listen,” he took your face in both hands, looking into your eyes intensely. “I want you so fucking bad, it hurts. I want to tear your clothes off and ravage you until you’re speaking in tongues. I do.” His voice was hoarse. He paused, before continuing. “But even more than that, I want to remember this, remember you, and not have any of the dirt from my past mixed into it. It’s difficult enough to keep it at bay as it is.” His eyes teared up at that. “And right now, for now, this is the only way I know how to do that.”

“I’m sorry.” Tears sprang from your eyes.

“No, you sweet idiot, you haven’t done anything wrong. I love you.” He gathered you in his arms, kissing away your tears as his own started to roll down. He sighed. “Great, now no one is coming, and everyone is crying.”

You both burst out laughing as soon as those words were out of his mouth.

You held each other a while longer, him stroking your back, before you broke the silence.

“So the bite scars are pretty erogenous then?”

“Extremely. Use that knowledge at your own risk and peril, darling.”

He lifted your chin for a kiss.

“Shall we go piss everyone off for a while, maybe steal Lae’zel’s boots, then come back here for more ‘memories’?” he asked.

“Sounds childish and dangerous. I’m in.”

You needed to clear your head too.

Maybe tomorrow would be the day one of you would get closer to knowing what it was you were doing, and tell the other. Until then, at least you were in it together.

~~~~~

The “I love you” is not canon for Act 2, but it is my headcanon, damnit.

Like what you just read? Huzzah, there’s more! - Series master list

Next in series - Communication

AO3

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #softcore smut #bg3 smut #astarion smut

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yuujispinkhair · 6 months

Text

How you get the girl

He knows how ironic this is. He is Sukuna, the guy who is known to always wear a smug smirk on his tattoed face and have a snide remark ready at all times. And yet, when you stand in front of him and confess your feelings to him, he is at a total loss for what to do.

Aka Sukuna is a lovesick mess who fucks things up on the first try because being open about his feelings is really not his strength but then makes up for it again.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff, College AU Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: Light angst with a happy ending. Sukuna struggles with opening up about his feelings. Kissing. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact.

"And that's why...I mean, what I want to say is, I love you, Sukuna."

You stand in front of him, wringing your hands nervously after saying all those sweet things about him that he never knew he was, and look up at him with a hopeful look in your pretty eyes. And Sukuna feels like he has been hit by a truck as he stares at you with wide maroon eyes and his heart hammering in his chest.

He knows how ironic this is. He is Sukuna, the star player of the basketball team, the popular asshole who gets invited to every party, the guy with the bad boy reputation, who is known to always wear a smug smirk on his tattoed face and have a snide remark ready at all times. And yet, when you stand in front of him and confess your feelings to him, he is at a total loss for what to do.

There are a lot of things going through his head. A lot of things he could confess to you. Like how much he likes spending time with you. Or that he thinks about your smile all day. Or that he likes how you laugh about his jokes and always play along when he says something teasing.

He knows he should be honest and tell you how weirdly full his chest feels when he holds you and that he likes it so much how you fit so perfectly into his arms and against his tall, muscular body. That it makes him want to protect you and care for you, just like the way you care for him so lovingly. He knows he could tell you that you are always his last thought before he falls asleep and the first one when he wakes up.

But he doesn't do any of that. He is frozen somehow. This big bad guy, who is always so loud and confident, is standing there staring at you with wide maroon eyes, nervously pushing his tongue piercing against the back of his incisors while he tries to think of what to say to you.

It's too much, too intense. He is good at flirting. He is good at kissing and fucking and sweet talk. But he isn't good at this!

Sukuna opens his mouth only to close it again, unable to put this overwhelming whirlwind of feelings into words. Or maybe it's not even that. Maybe it's not that he doesn't know what to say, but rather that everything he would say right now would feel too honest, too raw, and that is something that scares him. He has always been the rough one, the one who wears a mask of arrogance and indifference that lets him hide how he really feels.

Maybe that is why all he manages to say is,

"Thank you, princess."

He sees your face fall and hears a shaky breath escape your lips. You try to mask your disappointment, lips lifting in a forced smile as you back away from him with shiny eyes.

"You're welcome... I ... I will just go then. Bye, Sukuna."

He has never felt as helpless as when he stands there with his hands balled into fists as he watches you turn around and leave hastily.

He tries to pretend this moment never happened, tries to tell himself he did nothing wrong. It's fine. His reaction was a normal one. Things will be ok. You will come up to him tomorrow and roll your eyes and tease him about how he stood there like an idiot, and he will laugh and pull you against him and tell you that your beauty left him speechless and that, of course, he feels the same!

But that doesn't happen.

He doesn't see you anywhere in the next few days. There are no texts from you either. You're avoiding him, aren't you? Your friends send death glares his way when he passes them in the hallway.

He loses track of how often he pulls his phone out of the back pocket of his skinny jeans, just for his fingers to hover over your last message to him, unable to find the courage to type something.

The new episode of your favorite show airs tonight. He watches it. Of course, he does. He always does, even though he finds it boring and thinks the actors are super bad. But he watches it because you like it, and so he can talk to you about it. But tonight, you aren't in his bed to watch with him, and you aren't texting him about it either.

So Sukuna grabs his phone and finally texts you. He sends text message after text message all through the episode, commenting on the newest scandal and on the outfits of the main characters.

He doesn't get a reply.

On the fourth day, he sits in the living room with his brother, playing video games and losing round after round because his mind is too occupied with missing you and stressing about why he did what he did. And suddenly, he can't stop himself from throwing the controller on the floor and blurting out,

"I fucked up."

Yuuji looks at him with a questioning look,

"Do you mean in the game or something else? Are you in trouble?"

And Sukuna laughs gruffly and hides his face in his hands as he shakes his head. Luckily, his brother is persistent and doesn't leave him alone. The brat bugs him until Sukuna finally spills it out,

"She told me she loves me."

He doesn't even have to say your name. Yuuji knows. Of course, he does. He blinks at Sukuna in confusion.

"And what is the problem? That is amazing news!"

"I said thank you."

The seconds tick away, and Yuuji stares at him as if waiting for him to say more. Sukuna huffs and shakes his head before he adds,

"That's all. I thanked her... and then she left."

"What do you mean you thanked her, Kuna? What the fuck!? That isn't an acceptable way to reply to a love confession!"

"As if I don't know that! I... shit, I didn't know what to say! I was overwhelmed!"

He glares at his twin, desperation turning him into a hot, angry mess. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. He should grab his gym bag and go lift some weights and hit a punching bag until he is too exhausted to think!

But Yuuji's voice stops him.

"But.. but don't you like her? You looked so happy with her."

"Of course I do! I like her a lot."

He hates how soft his voice becomes when he says the last part. He hates how weak he feels when he feels his mask slip and knows he isn't able to hide the pain in his heart.

But luckily, this is Yuuji, his twin, the brat that has been practically attached to his hip ever since he was born three minutes after Sukuna. It's ok if he sees Sukuna like that. This is the little brother who loves Sukuna no matter what shitty situation he gets himself into. The brother who is so much better at being open about his feelings. The brother who isn't scared to tell him off when Sukuna does something stupid.

"When what are you still doing here, you idiot? Get the fuck up and go to her and talk to her! I will throw you out and lock the door! I am serious, Kuna! You only come back here after you made things ok again with your girl!"

It's ridiculous that he needs his younger brother to kick his ass and tell him what to do. It's absolutely pathetic that he jogs through the rain in the middle of the night to buy a huge bouquet of red roses and then bangs on your door with his pink hair dripping wet and his soaked-through white t-shirt sticking to his abs uncomfortably.

But maybe it's good to be pathetic sometimes because you don't slam the door into his face but look at him with a hopeful expression on your face and a soft,

"Hey, Sukuna."

He doesn't give a fuck anymore at that point. He doesn't care that he is standing in a small puddle of rainwater dripping down from his wet clothes. He doesn't care that his hand trembles when he pushes the roses into your arms. He doesn't care if the whole dorm hears him when he says,

"I am sorry! I was an idiot. You said all those sweet things to me, and in my head were so many things I wanted to tell you too, but I messed up."

He runs a large hand through his wet hair and slicks it back again, looking at you with eyes that glitter suspiciously, but he can blame it on the rain sticking to his long lashes,

"I like you too. Every minute with you was the best I ever had. I see your face in my mind all the time. Last week, I started laughing in the middle of the grocery store because I remembered something funny you said to me. I messed up my last exam because I was too distracted thinking about how your hand feels in my hair. I only feel ok when you are next to me because if you are not there, I feel like there is a crucial part of me missing. I know I suck at talking about my feelings, but that doesn't mean I don't have a hundred thousand of them when it comes to you, and all of them are fucking good and intense and drive me crazy and... I just.. fuck, I love you, princess. I love you, and I am so sorry!"

He feels out of breath, maybe from running through the rainy streets or maybe from letting out all of those words that make him feel so fucking vulnerable when being vulnerable was the one thing he always tried to avoid at all costs.

But there is this happy smile on your face. The smile he missed so damn much. And he knows it was worth it that he ran through the rain and spilled his heart out in the staircase of your dorm.

It was all worth it because you take a step towards him with happy tears in your eyes and a soft,

"Oh, Kuna."

And the next thing he knows is you are in his arms again, your warm body pressing tightly against his, not caring about his wet clothes. Your arms wrap around his neck, and your fingers play with the short hair of his undercut, making him let out a soft sigh. And you get on your tiptoes to kiss him right when he wraps his tattoed arms around your waist and pulls you even closer.

He can hear loud cheers and applause coming from somewhere in the staircase, but he really doesn't give a fuck anymore who heard his love confession. The whole world can know how he feels about you. He will shout it from the rooftop and punch everyone in the face who has a problem with it, if it means he can hold you again and kiss you and feel your smile against his lips.

I made myself cry thinking about this scene and then I HAD to write it aaaaah. I am so weak when Sukuna is a mess, it just makes me want to hug him and ruffle his hair and never let him go again. I am obsessed I think.

Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it and that you are weak for this mess of a boy too ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna x y/n

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ddarker-dreams · 5 months

Text

play wrestling — blade.

Embarrassment doesn’t find you easily.

To experience embarrassment implies a degree of self-awareness. While you possess some, it’s decreased significantly compared to your earlier years. Such is the natural progression of life. This is why you felt free to act on a little impulse, initially uncaring of how it’d reflect on you.

However, faced with two eyes as crimson as freshly spilled blood, you can’t help but do some reassessing.

“… What are you doing?” Blade asks, dryly. You feel the low rumble of his baritone voice against your palms, which you’ve splayed against his chest. His neutral countenance doesn’t give much away. According to your peer-reviewed scientific analysis, he alternates between three expressions — apathy, irritation, and wrath. There is an additional secret one for when it’s just the two of you and he doesn’t think you’re looking.

From what you can tell, you’ve landed yourself on the apathetic side of the spectrum. You can work with that. You’ll commit to the bit.

“Besting an intergalactic criminal in combat, obviously,” you scoff, faking a bravado you don’t have.

“Hm.”

“…”

Is he not going to do anything to free himself from this position?!

Blade had silently slid himself next to where you sat on the floor, playing with your phone. This unique opportunity activated a primal part of your brain that probably should’ve stayed in the vault. You wrangled him down. Now, he’s lying flat on his back, with you sitting victorious atop his lower abdomen. Long strands of his black hair fall along his side, painting a pretty picture. You suppress the urge to run your hands through his silky locks. That can come later, you have an objective to achieve.

“Are you finished?”

“Wh— well, no,” you frown. And here you thought he might indulge you. “You have to, y’know, fight back…?”

He raises an eyebrow and you want to groan.

“But I’d win.”

The declaration is made like it’s a foregone conclusion. Which, if you’re being honest, isn’t wrong. Still, he should give you some credit. You can hold your own in a fight! Maybe you’re not waving-around-a-three-thousand-pound-ancient-sword good, but you’re decent enough. He’s no fun. Kafka would’ve played around with you.

“How can you be so sure— eek!”

He grabs you by the shoulders and flips you around, reversing your position. Despite the immense speed he used, your head doesn’t hit the ground hard like it should’ve. He cushioned the impact by essentially cradling the back of your head with his hand. This is why you never believe him when he denies being a ‘secret softie.’ You know the truth.

“This is how,” he says.

You pout. “Did I at least put up a good fight?”

His silence speaks volumes.

After getting his fill of how nice you look beneath him, he climbs off you. The second you’re no longer restrained, you begin your counterattack. You lunge at him, intending to pin him down, only to feel the cool leather of his gloves against your wrists. You struggle valiantly to regain your freedom. All this does is amuse him further.

“We’re pretty evenly matched, right?” You ask, beginning to grow breathless from the energy you’re exerting.

The corners of his lips twitch upward.

“Mhm. Right.”

#he's very beautiful to me.#blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #blade brainrot #my stuff

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thesoftestpunk · 1 year

Text

I want you, Baby I need you

Summary: your friend tells you someone may like you and so stupidly, you begin to think about them a little differently

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: I feel like my brain fog made the pacing weird :/

Warnings: bullying, girls being mean :(, lots of fluff and pining!!

Main Masterlist

Pt.2

“Guess what?” One of your teammates, Christina, asks the second you place your tray down on the table, looking too smug for your liking. Before you can even ask, she’s talking over you. “The freak has a crush on you.”

“Who?” You genuinely forget who she’s referring to for a second, but her scoff seems to jog your memory. “Oh. Eddie Munson?”

“Who else?” She sneers, and everyone else around you laughs like it’s some huge joke, but you’re certain she isn’t joking. “God, how embarrassing.”

Your cheeks burn as they laugh even harder. You let out a weak chuckle, feeling the world around you shrink and become suffocating.

“Yeah,” you let out, trying to play along. “Could you imagine? Me and him?”

You blatantly refuse to call him a freak. Since moving into town two years ago, you quickly learned city life and small town life were completely different worlds. Despite falling in with the semi-popular crowd by joining the swimming team, you understood the struggle Eddie and his friends had to go through. You weren’t freak status back home, but you weren’t popular either. Not always well known, but always well liked, and your new friends teasing him about the rumor makes you worry about it spreading. For your sake and not his. You don’t want to deal with any sort of teasing from anyone.

Guilt crawls up your throat as you steal a glance toward his table, catching his eye as he curiously looks on at the boisterous scene going on around you. You give a quick smile, which probably comes off as more of a wince, and turn back around. In all honesty, he hasn’t been on your radar. You don’t know much about him other than the fact that he’s loud, labeled The Freak of Hawkins High, and has made a scene or two in class.

“Oh god,” Christina sighs out, wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes. “Pathetic.”

Humming half heartedly, you focus on shoving your shitty school food around your tray instead of eating it, a sudden pit sitting heavy in your stomach. Because Eddie having a crush on you actually felt flattering.

You choose to sit next to him in English, even give a small smile when you sit. There’s still time before the bell rings, and you find yourself glancing over at him. You open and close your mouth, uncertain of what to say until the words suddenly come tumbling out.

“How many tattoos do you have?”

For a second he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until the silence makes him look up and realize you’re staring straight at him, expectantly. He points to himself as if asking ‘me?’ eyebrows raised and his already wide doe eyes getting even wider. And you nod while fighting off a smile.

“Why d’you wanna know?” He eyes you suspiciously, certain that whatever information you’re about to get out of him is going to get back to your friends and fuel the constant fire over his head.

“I dunno,” you shrug a shoulder, but you’re honest. What the fuck were you supposed to say to Eddie Munson anyway? He was intimidating as hell because he put himself in the spotlight like it was nothing. It isn’t like you hate attention, but too much makes you nauseous. “Thinking about getting one, I guess?”

“You guess?” His head tilts, causing his hair to cascade over his shoulder. Of course he would be defensive. Christina was just making fun of him less than an hour ago.

“It’s- forget it,” you shake your head. You can’t believe you would trust your nasty, mean friends when they said he had a crush on you.

Turning back to the front of the classroom, you wait painfully for the bell to ring, and once it does, the room fills quickly with slightly out of breath students. A couple of your teammates wave at you until you finally break and they gesture wildly, asking ‘what the fuck are you doing sitting next to him?’ All you can do is give an apologetic shrug and decide you’ll lie to them later and say it was the only seat you could find. They just roll their eyes and pull out their textbooks.

“Five.” Eddie’s voice surprises you.

Turning your head, you hope no one sees when you ask. “Did they hurt?”

“No, ‘course not.” He bites back a smile, trying to act all tough.

“Liar.” Your nose scrunches and it makes him laugh at how cute it is.

You don’t mean to, truly, but now you look out for Eddie in the halls, stare at him during class, and hope for one more conversation. One that’s less embarrassing, but you do hope. Despite your friend's relentless teasing after English class the other day, you give a small wave back anytime he gives you one. You never initiate first, too shy and afraid it’ll lead to more teasing. This way you can just say you’re being polite when you wave back and they see, but more often than not, they’re too caught up in their own little worlds. Even though you’re scared they’ll tease, you keep an eye out for him and you learn more than you ever knew before. He’s polite. He lets the cheerleaders walk ahead if they bump into each other at a corner in the hall. One arm is tucked behind his back as he sweeps the other out and he bows a little. They give him weird looks respectively, but he just smiles and moves on. He might joke around with his friends, but if you listen closely, you can hear the kindness and compliments hidden underneath the meaning of his words. The group is small, but he holds the same amount of care for each and every one of them. Including his ‘little sheepies’ which you don’t fully understand, but he used a lot of words you don’t understand, and you thought you were smart. After a little investigating, you learn some of them are made up, but you seem to like the fact that he’s nerdy and into this series called Lord of the Rings.

You’re starting to like Eddie.

“Oh my God,” Christina moves in your line of sight, in front of him. You’d positioned yourself at the cafeteria table so you didn’t have to turn around to subtly watch him anymore. “Are you staring at the freaks?”

“Stop calling them that,” you roll your eyes. “You know I hate that.”

She crosses her arms defensively. “Just, you know, being honest. What’s so interesting about them anyway?”

“Nothing.” You mutter, going back to nibbling on the shitty cardboard pizza they served today.

She turns around and gets the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen from her when her eyes connect with Eddie’s.

“Holy shit. You’ve got a crush on The freak!”

“Christina!” You swat at her, but it’s too late. Everyone else at your table already heard and is staring at you incredulously. “I- I do not.”

“Puh-lease. You’ve been making googly eyes at him for weeks at this point!”

“It hasn’t been weeks,” you mutter under your breath.

“Ew!” Another one of the girls scrunches her nose and jabs a thumb in his direction. “Him?”

“Better be careful, Y/N,” another taunts. “Don’t wanna find you in the woods. I heard he, like, sacrificed a girl out there last year. No one’s heard from her since.”

“Oh my god, me too!” Christina pretends to look concerned. “You think that’s what happened to Nancy’s friend too? What was her name? Bev?”

“Didn’t he like…” the girl to your left leans in and stage whispers, but she could be heard from across the room if you listened hard enough. None of them understood the concept of speaking at a normal volume. “Bite a bat's head off?”

“That was actually Ozzy Ozbourne!” Eddie leans so far back in the chair that the two front legs don’t touch the ground, one of his legs lifted so the bottom of his dirty Reebok’s supports his weight against the table.

You’re mortified at the idea that Eddie has heard every single word, but he was at the other end of the long table today.

“Ugh,” Christina rolls her eyes again before turning to face him. “As if we know that freak either!”

“Tina,” you hiss, not wanting to start a scene over this nonsense.

“Whatever. You don’t have a crush.” She fully faces the table again and starts talking about the party at Jason’s after the game on Friday.

You go to throw an apologetic look at Eddie, but find him missing from the table, and a couple of his friends send glares your way, making you shrink in shame.

Eddie isn’t in English, or History, and you find out through the grapevine he skips the rest of the day entirely. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do, but you feel like it’s your fault. The days leading up to the party, he seems to avoid you, eyes darting away quickly and showing up late enough to class that it’s guaranteed there’s no free seats around you. Christina seems to take notice of your sour mood, but only asks once. You lie and say you’re fine, but you feel sick to your stomach. You never actively partook in the bullying, but you never stopped it either.

The day of the game finally rolls around, filled with school spirit and a pep rally, but once again Eddie is nowhere to be found. Not that he’d ever attended a pep rally in his whole high school career, but you at least expected to spot him at lunch. He’s even absent from your shared classes. After school, you hang around in the parking lot, wasting time before you all have to go home and get ready for the game. You frown as you observe his friends, chatting away aimlessly and occasionally throwing candy around. They hang around what you think is Eddie’s van, but if he skipped all day, why would he be here now?

“Hey,” Christina’s voice surprises you, quiet and genuine. “Just us girls… you have a crush on Munson?”

“I…” you trail off, surprised she isn’t faking her valley girl voice, and you feel like you can trust her once again since you met her two years ago. She wasn’t your first friend in Hawkins, but you had been close when you first joined the team. “I dunno. He’s actually kinda sweet. Maybe?”

“Seriously?” And then she guffaws, catching you off guard once more. “Ugh, grody! Guys, Y/N actually has a crush on Munson!”

“I- I didn’t say that!” You can’t believe Christina would do something like that. As you watch them all laugh and tease, you wonder when they all got so mean and why you started letting them get away with it.

“You said maybe. That’s, like, totally a yes!”

“Like it’s such a bad thing to have a crush on me?”

Everyone quiets as you slowly turn around to find Eddie standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Eddie, I…” you aren’t even sure what to say as he glares down at you.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging around you, Munson.” Christina’s voice makes you squeeze your eyes shut in frustrated embarrassment. “Even your parents couldn’t stand to stay around. Must be hard having a cultist son. Fucking embarrassing.”

The lot gets so quiet, you can hear the grinding of his teeth as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t even dignify her with a response, turning and walking away before anyone can see the red staining his cheeks.

“Tina… that was major harsh.” One of the girls breaks the silence.

“Oh, eat my shorts, Janice. Are we getting ready at my house or not?”

Everyone seems to hesitate but Christina was captain of the team. No one was going to say no. Well, no one but you.

“I’ve, um, got a thing. I’ll meet you guys at the game.” You glance over toward Eddie, watching as he harshly shoves his shoulder back to avoid one of his friends' hands.

You shouldn’t go to the game, but you do.

Janice called you from Christina’s house, sounding hopeful. You promised to be there, despite your whole body screaming at you to just stay home. Janice promises the whole thing will blow over by Monday, and something else will come along. But it won’t just blow over with Eddie. You know that. He had looked so hurt when you turned around to face him. In all the years of getting bullied, that was the first time he showed anyone what their words did to him. And it was your fault.

You had promised Janice you’d be there, but when you stand outside the gymnasium, you can’t make yourself go in. Can’t make yourself face who you thought were your friends. So, you walk down a path between the large building and the school and take out a key. The pool was somewhat separated, but you could still hear the muffled band playing when you entered the echoey room. You keep a spare swimsuit in your locker for this exact situation. The sport helped clear your mind and you needed to get rid of the image of Eddie’s broken look.

You swim even after the cheering and the band stops. You swim until you feel like your limbs are going to fall off, and even though you don’t want to, you shower off the chlorine. As you step out into the somewhat cool autumn air, a double door bursts open, and the kids that come spilling out make you stop.

His little sheepies. Which means…

Fuck.

Eddie is the last one out, smile so wide you can’t help but wonder if it hurts. They all talk over each other, but Eddie just seems to watch over in pride. You take a step back into the shadows, hoping your bright multicolored windbreaker doesn’t give you away.

“Hey!” Is that… Steve Harrington? “You guys were supposed to be done an hour ago.”

“The campaign ends when it ends, Steve!” One of them retorts back.

“Yeah, well, I don’t have all night Henderson. Let’s go!”

All three freshmen rush to Steve’s BMW and scramble inside. He and Eddie share a nod before he gets in and peels out of the lot, and you can still hear all of them shouting in excitement. The other three seniors exchange goodbyes before parting ways, but Eddie sticks behind. Neither of you move until all the cars are gone except for his van and yours. Why the fuck hasn’t he moved?

“Is it just you?” Eddie finally speaks, turning toward your piss poor excuse of a hiding spot. “Or is the rest of the team waiting somewhere?”

“I’m- I’m alone.” It scares you once you realize you’re the only two on the property. Probably the only two within a few miles at this point. “Look, I’m really sorry about them. Christina especially. I don’t know when she got so…”

“Bitchy?”

That makes you breathe out a laugh, not realizing you were holding your breath. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

It’s quiet for a moment as he shifts his weight to his other leg, observing you and the whole situation.

“Do you want to sit by the pool and talk?” It’s starting to feel pretty creepy outside, and the cold night wasn’t helping your wet hair.

“I thought it was locked after hours.”

You hold up the bronze key, but offer up an explanation anyway. “My uncle is actually the coach. He got me into swimming competitively in the first place. Technically I’m not allowed to bring friends in but…”

“Good thing I’m not really a friend.” He walks past you and you’re a bit frozen in place, not believing he accepted.

You’re nervous as you unlock the door once more and wave him inside like he would but you give an awkward curtsy. As he’s turning in a small circle to take in how the water reflects off the walls and ceiling, you slip off your shoes and roll up your jeans as far as you can go. He begins to do the same when he sees you sticking your feet in the water.

“Jesus Chri-! That’s cold!” His voice bounces off the walls, and your laughter follows.

“Well, yeah, most pools are.” You tuck your hands underneath your thighs and move your right leg around in small circles, disrupting the water. “Didn’t see you at the game.”

“That kind of stuff is bullshit. Forced conformity.” Before he goes on a rant, he looks at the sly smile on your face, as if you were going to enjoy this topic of conversation. But he knew you’d react either of two ways if he kept on. Confused, or freaked out. So he leans back on his palms and tries to act casual. “And if I’m guessing right, you weren’t there either.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” You give a halfhearted shrug. “Christina really… what she said about your parents— I just don’t see her the same anymore. I don’t know how it happened, but she just got so mean, and everyone’s too scared to say anything because she's the captain. Sorry, I’m- ranting.”

“Christina wasn’t far off.”

The admission bounces around as you look at him.

“Eddie…”

“It was forever ago.” He kicks the water, causing a small splash. “Aren’t you co-captain anyway?”

“Yeah? So?” You didn’t think he would know that, and it makes you feel all mushy inside that he knows something so simple about you.

“So don’t you have us much say as her?”

“With her tyrannical rule? No way.”

“No shame in running, but sometimes you gotta be the hero.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “I’m sure getting to Mordor would be easier than standing up to Christina.”

“You’ve read…?”

“No.” That’s a half lie. “Well, sorta. I haven’t gotten very far. I don’t know if it’s my thing, but you talk about it so much, I wanted to check out all the hype.”

Eddie looks taken aback, mouth hung open.

“Is that what dungeons and dragons is?” You ask curiously, which seems to take him back even more. “I mean everybody says it’s bad, but it’s just nerd shit, right? Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“It is nerd shit.” He straightens his back at the new topic of conversation. “All it is, is tabletop fantasy role play. Doesn’t have to be like Lord of the Rings. You could have a whole western fantasy campaign. Maybe even in space.” He’s ranting, and god does he know it, but you lean in instead of awkwardly looking away like everyone else does.

“Campaign…?”

“Well, it’s…” Eddie thinks for a moment before explaining in the most simple of terms how a campaign works. You nod along, enthralled by every detail, even when he derails and starts rambling about character class and stats. He rambles on about their current campaign to help explain better, and he uses silly voices and moves animatedly. You laugh, but not at him. He continues to tease, loving your laugh and that you aren’t making fun of him. His arms flail a bit and he gives a few teasing nudges, but in his excitement he forgets his strength.

“Wait, Eddie-!” You fall in the water, grabbing on to him in an attempt to stop, but end up pulling him down with you. The both of you come up spluttering, but you end up laughing at the mop of hair on his head.

“Shit,” he laughs nervously. “It’s deep.”

“Wait. Can you swim?”

“Well, I’m no athlete, but yeah. I can swim.”

“Well…” you swim forward, a sly smile creeping its way onto your face. “Might as well, right? We’re already in here. You’ll want your jacket off, though. It’s gonna be too much dead weight.”

“Right, I’ll uh…”

“Here, I’ll keep us afloat while you get it off.”

Before he can understand what’s happening, you wrap your arms around his waist, your face entirely too close to his. With what little space you have, you can see freckles splashing across his face, and you chew on the inside of your cheek to keep your composure. He avoids eye contact as he struggles out of the leather, the tip of his tongue making a surprise appearance, before tossing the jacket aside and it lands with a loud wet slap.

“Cool. Now good luck catching me!” You splash him a little harsher than you had intended, but you make a dash to escape.

“You’re gonna regret that!”

You’re a lot better at swimming than he is, almost too fast to be caught, but you slow down after awhile on purpose. As his hand wraps around your ankle, making you squeal, you tell yourself you did it to not wear him out and frustrate him. That you didn’t want to anger him, as he’s pulling you into him and dunking both of you under water. You struggle against his arms, but he’s strong. You can feel the unexpected muscle against your hands, but he lets you go too soon and you both come up gasping for air.

“Told ya.” water sprays a bit from his mouth as his chest heaves.

“You cheated.”

“I never cheat, sweetheart.” He wades toward you slowly, dropping down just until his mouth sinks into the water.

“Eddie Munson, don’t you dare,” you warn but your tone is too light. “You dunk me again, I’ll- I’ll make sure you smell like chlorine for a week.”

He doesn’t listen, and you swim backward until your back crashes into the tiled wall. The cold sends a shiver down your spine. Definitely not the way Eddie comes back up, water dripping from his chin and his arms blocking you in on either side of you. His eyes drop to your lips and you find yourself breathing heavily for a completely different reason, your chest brushing against his with every inhale. Neither of you make a move, just admiring every detail you can while breathing each other's air. Just when you think he might, a loud bang comes from one of the locker rooms, making you both jump and look around frantically. You find yourself gripping one of his forearms tightly in shock.

“We should- we should probably get out.” No one else had access to the pool except your uncle, but you doubted he would come by at midnight. He trusted you to not fool around, and you really hadn’t let him down until now. “I swear the locker rooms are haunted.”

Still, you don’t move until he does, and swim to the nearest ladder to get out. The only sound is the water from your clothes dripping on the floor, and suddenly you feel exhausted. Your clothes feel heavy as they cling to your skin. Without discussing it, you both start peeling your clothes off, slightly turned away to give each other privacy. As you’re wringing out your shirt, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder at Eddie, and catch the way his shoulder blades move while he does the same. His eyes catch yours and you smile sheepishly before turning back around. You’re both down to your underwear, unsure of how to proceed.

“We should shower. Alone I mean. You can go to the boys’. There’s towels.” You speed walk away, too self conscious to hang around too long.

“Wait!” He follows you quickly, careful not to slip. “You’re just gonna drop the fact that the locker rooms are haunted and then leave me alone to fend for myself?”

Your footsteps slow, and you let out a small huff because you know you know you’ll feel guilty until the end of time if you do that to him.

“There’s going to be rules, Munson.”

“Oh, of course.” He agrees quietly.

“We go in at the same time and undress fully in our own shower. You’re not to come out until I have, and even then, you’re not to look anywhere but your own shower. When I say it’s okay, you can leave, got it?”

“I think you forgot the part about the towels.”

“Do not make me regret this.”

You’ve never been so self conscious showering until now. Even with a zero percent chance of Eddie seeing you naked, you worry, but you also think about the fact that he’s in the same exact state you’re in right now. That somehow makes the whole thing feel way too intimate, and you can’t believe the first time you got to hang out with your -possible- crush, you both end up naked. If that basic, no detailed rumor got out, you’d surely die of embarrassment. Turning around, you place your face underneath the stream of water, trying so hard to not think about the small glimpse of his torso that you got. The dark patch of hair sneaking underneath his boxers that clung to his thighs from the water.

“So, are you from Hawkins?” His voice brings you out of your wandering thoughts. You quickly turn the knob from hot to cold in hopes that it keeps you calm.

“My parents are.” Looking down, you watch the water swirl around at your feet. “My grandmother got sick and my uncle couldn’t take care of her by himself. So, we packed up and moved back here, but I can tell my parents are happy to be back home. It’s less demanding than the city.”

“The uncle being coach thing makes a lot more sense now.”

“Not a lot of people know actually.” You turn the water off completely, and wrap your arms around your torso self consciously. “I’m getting out now.”

It isn’t the easiest topic of conversation, but when she had first gotten sick two years ago, your mother went to stay with her for the three months she had been told she would live. When it was clear she was going to hang on longer than expected, they decided it would just be better to move permanently and the old lady was still sticking around. Despite being so sick, you liked hanging out with her most afternoons. Even if she forgot who you were.

You carefully walk out of the shower, towel wrapped around yourself tightly, and as you pass by the stall that Eddie is in, you catch a glimpse in the crack between the curtain and wall. All you manage to catch is the back of his head, arms extended upward to wash out whatever shampoo you’d let him borrow. He begins to turn and you look away with your cheeks burning. You attempt to dry your hair underneath one of the hand dryers, and it isn't long when Eddie comes out, damp boxers back on and using the towel you gave him to rub his hair dry. He pauses seeing you kneeled down, holding the towel to your chest so that nothing gets exposed and he realizes he forgot to wait for your okay, but you don’t seem to mind as you give a soft smile.

“I’ll grab our clothes.” He says when the dryer finally turns off and leaves you to get somewhat decent.

He’s suddenly so quiet as he hands over your clothes, no witty comment or joke as the two of you get dressed. All there is between you are stolen glances and nervous smiles. Once fully clothed again, you walk beside him, feeling a little stiff. Not from how your cold clothes stick to you, but from nerves. The soft lights from the pool make his face glow, and your stomach drops in the best way possible. He gets the door for you, and waits with his hands stuffed in his jacket as you lock up. The grass crunches underneath your footsteps, dry from the temperature and lack of rain. Neither of you speak, until you hit the parking lot, cars too far from each other to continue walking together.

“Were they right?” You ask before he gets a chance to escape, arms anxiously crossed over your chest. “My friends. ‘Cause if they were… I think I have one too.”

“Have what?”

Shit. You were too vague.

“A crush, dummy.”

Realization dawns on his face as he absorbs your confession. He can’t believe it, and the worst smallest part of him thinks you’ve done this whole thing as a joke, and someone is going to pop out with a camera to capture how big of an idiot he’s been. All that happens is you chew on your bottom lip, anxiously waiting for an answer, and he's leaving your heart out in the open for too long.

“Yes, yeah, they were right.” He watches how you smile and takes a mental image to last forever. “I’m not really quiet about anything.”

“I just never expected…” you shake your head and look at your feet. “You. You’ve just so suddenly become this big thing in my life.”

Eddie barely has to take a step to be close enough to take your face in his hands and lift your head up to pull you into a searing kiss. It’s so unexpected that you laugh in surprise against his lips, but he smiles at the sound. When you’ve settled down, you move your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, eager to feel his heartbeat slow to match the rhythm of your own. He kisses you so sweetly, you really do think he’s a gentleman. A quick slip of his tongue doesn’t change your mind either.

“If you don’t stop me,” he gets out between kisses. “We’ll be here all night sweetheart.”

“I like that idea,” you tease as his lips move along your jawline, and down your neck. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you focus on every feeling.

Eddie pulls back, showing some self restraint and you almost whine at the loss of contact.

“You’re gonna get a cold if you stay out here.”

“So will you!”

“I’m going to walk you to your car, and you’re going to go home and get all snuggled in bed, okay?” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb, the ghost of a smile ever present.

“Fine.”

Eddie takes your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and walks the short distance to your car. You make no move to enter, back pressed against the driver side door, and grab him by his jacket. He braces himself with one arm, looking down at you, his other hand stroking your cheek with the back of his pointer finger. The featherlight touch makes you shiver, and you find yourself getting lost in his almost pitch black eyes. Those eyes that are so beautiful and full of lashes, that a cow would be jealous. You pull him in for another kiss, arms wrapping underneath his jacket and around his small waist. He groans into your mouth, not wanting to leave if you were going to kiss him slowly like that.

“I’m personally thanking Christina on Monday.” He gives your knuckles a quick kiss before taking a few steps backwards, not wanting to look away, and turning for his own vehicle.

Christina’s head almost explodes when he does exactly that and plants a kiss on your lips in the cafeteria, but you just act innocent when you take his outstretched hand and move to sit with him at his table. It felt good, and it felt even better when you give her the finger when she wouldn’t stop staring.

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #my writing.

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