#That joke can never be unsaid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chastiefoul · 4 months

Text

when he says "please."

ft. genshin characters

characters: neuvilette, wriothesley, diluc, xiao genre: fluff and a smidge of angst in diluc's. just a little one i promise!! a/n: will be making more from this prompt any character request perhaps??

neuvilette

he pulled you close, eager to be pressed against you after having to be away from you for hours because of work. you smiled at the proximity, the longing was in fact mutual. he eyed your lips so attentively; such delight after a hard day of labor, surely you’d grant him that? he leaned it and stopped an inch before your lips met his, his breath tickled your right cheek. “may i?” he whispered, if there’s a time where he’d stop asking permission to steal a kiss, it was not that day. and that fact made your stomach go all crazy. you indulged in his eagerness for a minute, teasing your lover who had the patience as wide as the sea. “...please?” he mumbled, sounding a little desperate. you put your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, pressing a sweet kiss on his lips. “i’m all yours, neuvilette.”

wriothesley

“should i remind you that this is still work hour and i needed to be out of this fortress like an hour ago?” you scolded him, yet it did nothing to the tightness of his grip around your waist as you went to get up from his lap. “baby you honestly had too much faith in me if you think i could resist letting you go when you came in all pretty like this to visit me,” he continued to rest his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes with no worry in the world. “wriothesley.” you sighed, your tone reprimanding. “five more minutes for the special meal from the coupon cafeteria?” he tried. “are you bribing me...?” you asked, fighting a smile that’s dangerously close to invading your lips. “is it working? i could throw something else in there, like three of sigewinne’s rare stickers maybe?” he asked playfully, planting kisses all over your cheek and you couldn’t hold the grin. “cute that you believe she gave the rare stickers to you.” you smiled mischievously, wriothesley’s face immediately understood the unsaid words. “no,” he said at the betrayal. “mhm, she gave me the full limited collection too so your bribe means nothing now,” you said, raising an eyebrow in challenge. he just chuckled, “figures.” you tried once more to get off his lap thinking that you caught him off guard but of course he didn’t budge. “wrio,” you whine. “five more minute. please baby, you can give me that at least, right? i’ll be good i promise.” he pleaded, and you rarely see him do that. you sighed, knowing you’re defeated way before he begged for you to stay. “five minutes it is.”

you end up staying there the whole day.

diluc

the life of an adventurer kept you busy, going to all sort of places and meet all kinds of creatures and that bounds to give you wounds and injury both physically and mentally. and of course diluc was the one to be concerned over you more than yourself. he never offered any complaints about the path you chose, as he gave you his full support instead. although a little part of his heart sometimes slipped away after seeing you home with another cut added to the barely healed skin from the wound before.

on a somewhat quiet night as he knelt in front of you as he tend to the injury on your knee he spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “can you try to be more careful?” he pressed the cotton on the wound with alcohol, earning a little hiss from your mouth. “i am being careful, you should see what happens to the other guy.” you smiled, offering a joke but when you didn’t see even an ounce of amusement on your lover’s face you know this time it’s serious. his hand stopped moving, he took a deep breath. “please, love. i can’t.. i don’t know if i can handle more of you falling into my arms out of exhaustion, and you’re barely conscious.” his voice incredibly weak, his eyes glassy as he gazed the floor. your heart felt like it’s being ripped into a new one as you saw him. you pulled him into his chest. “i’m sorry. diluc i’m sorry. i promise i’ll be more careful. no more taking commission until i’m fully healed. i’m sorry, love.” he just nodded, basking in your touch. as long as you come back to him alive and well, it’s all good.

xiao

“here comes a thought,” you said out of nowhere. xiao just hummed, letting you to proceed with the said thought as he’s sure it didn’t even matter what’s his response was. “you’re too demanding, at times,” you boldly claimed, as the sentence left him speechless. demanding? “how so?” he asked quietly, clearly bothered by what you said. “i was kidding. demanding isn’t the right word, it’s just, sometimes i wanna hear you say please, you know?” you reassured his doubt. xiao just stared at you blankly, face clearly telling you that he’s in fact does not know. “alright, that’s not a hard request.” he complied almost immediately. “okay, then say it?” you asked.

“now? but i am not currently asking for anything,” xiao said rationally, and that’s not what you’re looking for. “okay, pretend you’re asking for a kiss,” you said, smiling playfully, “what?!” the yaksha quickly became flustered. you took his hand, and he let you. “i’ll even give you one for real-“

“y/n, please.” he covered his face with his free hand, bashful beyond belief that he begged for you to stop talking because he’s not currently functioning properly. for someone who lived through two thousand years, he’s just not quite immune to your teasing and never will be, it seemed. you smiled happily, “that’s not so hard, was it?” xiao who just looked at you who’s all smiley just couldn’t help but mirror your expression with a little smile of his own.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #xiao x reader #neuvilette x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #diluc x you #diluc x reader #xiao fluff #xiao x you

3K notes · View notes

murdrdocs · 1 year

Text

saber tooth | f. odair

description. just two days out from the Games, your mentor and best friend, finnick odair, comes to your room late at night in a mutual fit of insomnia to fulfill your (potentially) dying wish

includes. SMUT 16+, fem!reader, oral f!receiving, fingering, loss of virginity sans p in v, canon-complicit angst, mentions of finnick’s trafficking, best friends to lovers, reader’s a tribute, finnick’s her mentor, extremely brief misunderstandings, soft dom finnick, pleasure dom finnick, brief mention of drug use (one line), finnick and annie were never together but he mentored her, he rlly cares abt r :((, giggly sex (sometimes), throw away line abt lack of body hair but i rlly like body hair

a/n: whaddup whaddup! this started as a blurb but it um ,,, clearly expanded. there’s no p in v simply bc im so tired rn however i would like to continue this in the future if my mind would allow it :) also the title has nothing to do with the fic i was just listening to easily by chuck inglish

word count: 4k+

part 2

A week of anticipation, festivities, and celebration for the Capitol, was a week of anxiety, tears muffled into pillows, and wishing to be somewhere else for you.

The week leading up to the 72nd Hunger Games.

The Reaping, Opening Ceremony, and the three days of training that followed were mostly a blur. Your body picked up on the techniques you would need to survive, and with the help of Finnick, you’d managed to commit them to memory. You remembered the way you’d been trained to sit and talk and the jokes you should slip into conversation with Caesar tomorrow night.

All of their training was working, and Finnick had told you that you had a high chance of making it out of that area. A high chance. Nothing was guaranteed at this point in your life. Which is why you needed to do a few final things.

The door to your bedroom slides open. You lift your head from the pillow and squint. There’s a little light coming from the hallway, and it backlit the figure. But even without it, you would know who was coming to see you. The only person who’d been coming to see you since the arrival at the Tribute Center.

“Hey, Finn,” you mumble, resting your head back against the pillow that’s always cool.

Finnick takes a few steps into your room, stopping to flick a switch that only turns on the lamps beside your bed, and the two ambient ones in the corners.

“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is raspy, as if he’s tired, but not to the point of already greeting sleep. It’s a little later than it should be, you were recommended to have gone to sleep two hours ago but you couldn’t. There was too much going on in your head, too many unsaid words and undone actions. You couldn’t sleep with your consciousness this awake.

Finnick voices the matter. “You can’t sleep, can you?”

You shake your head, deciding to sit up a little, your bare lower half still secure underneath the thick comforter. Your room was always cold, and the silk sheets mirrored the temperature. Physically, you were the most comfortable you’d ever been, wearing the softest cotton undergarments, and a silk button up nightshirt, your toes warm beneath fuzzy socks. But the weight on your mind was the complete opposite.

With the way Finnick looks at your face, he can tell just how exhausted you are.

“Want something to help with that?” He asks as he sits at the edge of the bed, close but entirely too far from you. “A drink? Pills? The Capitol has it all, you know.” The way he says it is the opposite of marveling, the words laced with annoyance and frustration. His tone prompts a small smile from you.

“‘M okay. I trust my body to do what it’s supposed to.” Finnick’s head is turned down, but you see the way the corner of his lip curls up.

He lifts his head to fully smile at you, one of sympathy and pity and sadness. His hand reaches out and his palm rests over the outline of your shin. Far too many layers are between the bare skin on both of you, but you don’t say so. You just give Finnick an equally sad smile, expressing your dismay for your situation, and you begin to pick at your nails in your lap.

“What’re you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Finnick shakes his head. “No such luck for me either.” He shrugs as if he’s used to it and you remember that he’s been in this position too. Just a few years ago, a young boy, your best friend, was sitting in this bed, with similar thoughts weighing on his mind. And now his best friend was in that position.

You push the sheets back, exposing the beginnings of the skin on your thigh, and you pat the space beside you. “C’mon,” you encourage, not ceasing your patting until Finnick scoffs and slides his slippers off, crawling up to slip under the covers with you.

The bed is larger than you’d ever seen, something your escort called a ‘bed fit for a king’, but Finnick chooses to sit right beside you, the heat of his body warming yours.

“We could watch something. What plays on the television in the Capitol?” Finnick’s sitting so close to you that you can feel him shrug. Whenever you reach over to the bedside table, pulling the drawer open to grab the remote, you come back to sit even closer to him, where your arms are pressed flush against each other.

“Mostly shows about the lives of celebrities here.”

You gasp, turning to face him. “Is that rumor about you appearing on some reality show true?” Finnick’s ears redden and that’s enough confirmation that you need. Your head throws back with a hearty laugh, and you click on the TV with hopes of finding an episode.

Finnick sits quietly beside you as you click through the channels, reading the titles and watching maybe a second or two of content before you decide to try the next thing. When you’ve gone through most channels, you land on the one that will play the Games.

He says your name, as a warning perhaps, but you click it anyway, seeing that they’re talking about you.

“Now the odds of this one making it out are pretty high. She’s pretty, smart, and trained by the Finnick Odair,” a clip of you and Finnick appears, one that must’ve been taken backstage during the Opening Ceremony. He’s standing close to you, crouched down just enough to meet your eye level. You’re obviously nervous, and he’s obviously attempting to soothe those nerves, cracking jokes with a hand held to your heart, both of yours over it. “The Capitol’s Prince.” The announcer pronounces those words clearly, enunciated, making sure every late night viewer understands Finnick’s alternate title.

Clips of Finnick throughout the years show and you grow silent, watching how he commands a room better than you ever could.

“If she were to make it out, I’m sure she could become the Capitol’s Princess, right?” The announcer smiles just as the remote is snatched from your hands and the TV is clicked off, ridding the bedroom of the colorful hues and leaving you and Finnick with the yellow light from your lamps.

“Why did you–?” Finnick’s interrupting. He’s thrown the remote to the side of him and he’s turned to face you.

“I want you to make it out of the Games, I really do.” You nod, watching the way his chest rises and falls with breaths that fill the hesitant silence. “But, I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you.”

“What do you mean? You don’t want me to be loved and adored by the Capitol?” You say it a tad bit sarcastically, but your tone dulls down when you notice how serious his face is.

He shakes his head. “No, I really don't.” You scoff, beginning to get upset over the idea that a night that was turning peaceful, began to turn on its head. “Because everything comes with a price here,” he says your name, making sure you’re listening. “The ‘love’ the Capitol has for me is ingenuine, they love me like I’m an object. Not a person with thoughts and feelings.”

“Finnick, I don’t think I understand.” But you do, you really do.

He tells you as much, that same sad smile from earlier on his lips.

Before you can speak, he does. “Look, I came in here to ask you what you want.”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“Before the Tributes I mentor get sent off, I like to fulfill their wish. In case they don’t…”

“In case they don’t make it back.” He nods. “So a dying wish?” Another nod.

“So, what d’you want?”

You know what you want. You’ve wanted it since you were a teenager, watching Finnick, the most loved victor, leave for the Capitol and come back weeks later. Since you watched him train Annie Cresta and everyone, including yourself, believed there to have been something between them. Since he walked into your room just 20 minutes ago.

“What I want, I don’t think I can ask you for.” You speak low, your voice a whisper. Your head rests on the headboard behind you, turned to face Finnicks.

He shakes his head gently. “I have connections. I can guarantee almost anything.”

“No, Finn.” You don’t think you can ask him for this. Especially with what he’s essentially just told you. It would be selfish, it would be insincere, it would ruin the friendship you have between you two.

“I can’t.”

His head’s already facing yours, and he brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin.

“Yes, you can.”

“No, Finn, I can’t.” Your eyes sting, as does your nose, and you know there’s no use in pretending the tears aren’t there. He’s seen them, he’s acknowledged them by swiping his thumb under your eye, catching the first drop.

“I would do anything for you. Just say the word.”

You search his eyes, his face, the tip of his ears, his Adam’s Apple. You’re looking for his tell. But it’s not there. It’s just Finnick. Your Finnick. And he wants the best for you.

You’re the most vulnerable you’ve ever been at this moment; sitting in a bed in the Tribute Center, just two days out from the Hunger Games, a period of uncertainty that is life or death; your best friend, and unrequited crush, as your mentor, having to hold your pieces together at least until the end of this.

There’s no point in hiding anything. You know you need to lay it all out. So you do.

“Even take my virginity?”

The air is still. Stiff. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t breathe. His thumb halts. He doesn’t blink.

You sit there, watching him, holding in the sob that threatens to wrack across your body.

“Forget it. I’m sor–”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment where you don’t act. A moment where disbelief trickles down your body like the tears from your eyes do on your face.

“Finn…”

“I would do anything for you. I have wanted you since we were young, but I thought…”

“Doesn’t matter what you thought then. Not anymore. We go from here now.”

And there is the nagging possibility that all of this could be because of your potential fate. Maybe he’s humoring you, or letting you in on that final step of human intimacy before your life ends. You prefer not to think about it. Especially whenever Finnick’s moving closer to you and you can feel his breath on your lips.

Your lips are almost touching, the tanned skin of his face is right in front of you, the same goes for the pink of his lips. He’s almost there, then he says, “Are you sure?”

“‘M sure.” And Finnick is kissing you. Finnick Odair is finally kissing you.

He kisses you softly, sweetly, with precision and a gentle nature. As if he’s afraid that he’ll do something wrong and hurt you.

You kiss him back in a similar fashion, just with added timidness that Finnick doesn’t possess.

Your hands raise slowly, in choppy motions that are both due to your uncertainty, and the distraction of finally having the man of your dreams kiss you like you’re made of porcelain. But you manage to get your hands to Finnicks torso, palms pressed flat against his thin shirt so that you can feel the abs along his torso.

You’ve felt them before, in time of play fighting, or whenever he would have you replicate his breathing or form. But touching along his torso in this circumstance is different. Now, your touch ignites a fire within you. It makes Finnick grip the back of your neck and pull you closer with one hand, the other sliding the covers away and hooking his hand at the back of your thigh, pulling your left leg over your right.

Your hands slide down to the hem of his shirt, slowly starting to slide it up until he gets the hint and pulls away just enough for you to slide the shirt between you two, up and over his head. Then he’s back on you.

When you sigh blissfully into his mouth, he starts to kiss you like he’s desperate to have you close. Like he wants to engulf your entire being until you’re intertwined.

The best you can do is physically move closer to him, letting the hand on the back of your thigh guide you to straddling his lap.

It’s then that Finnick pulls away from you. Your hands trail up to cup his cheeks, moving back to play with the golden blonde locks that seemed to never be out of place.

He stares up at you, sea-green eyes pulling you even further into a state of enchantment. Whenever he tilts his head, eyes stuck on you, and kisses into your palm, you melt. His hand lifts to gently circle around your wrist, nimble fingers rubbing little circles into the skin.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Finnick speaks. “I need you to remember that even if I’m doing the work, you set the pace. You tell me what you like and don’t like. You tell me when to go and when to stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

And then you’re back at it. His hands circle around to your lower back, pushing into the curvature to bring your chest closer to him. He uses the position to his advantage, dipping his head to kiss at the exposed bits of your skin; your neck, collarbone, the starts of your cleavage. He quickly becomes frustrated with the lack of skin, and you bite back a smile as you gently nudge his head back and begin to undo the buttons.

He watches you in a trance-like state with a look that seems akin to awe. You can’t help but tease him just a bit, shifting in your position atop his crotch and slowing your work on the buttons.

Finnick groans and his hands leave your lower back to push your own hands away, deciding to undo your buttons himself, grumbling something under his breath about you being a tease.

When you giggle above him, Finnick has you pushed onto your back in what seems like the blink of an eye. Really, it did happen quick, but your eyes were already closed from giggling so hard, so reopening them to Finnick above you, your shirt opened and your barely confined tits in Finnick’s eyeline, is disorienting.

“Jesus, look at you,” Finnick mumbles. And he is. His eyes are hungirly skirting over your figure, taking it all in. From your eyes, to the bra that you wear, all the way to the cotton panties that hug your hips.

His gaze stops at your lower half for a while, watching your stomach rise and fall with your breaths and the way there’s definitely a little wet patch on your panties.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He mumbles under his breath. The question is rhetorical, and meant only for him. But, in a fit of nerves, you answer anyway, needing to do something other than lay there.

“I don’t know, Finn, there’s a lot that you can do. You can go down on me, give me your fingers, your cock.”

His eyes lift to yours, shock evident within them. “Did you just say the word ‘cock’?” He laughs between the words, that perfectly pearly white smile greeting you.

“Yeah,” you say, laughing through the syllables too.

Finnick shakes his head with that smile still present.

He swears under his breath but then his fingers are playing with the hem of your panties and you’re back under, focused on what he could possibly plan to do next. He hums, eyes on you, eyebrows raised.

It takes you a second to realize what his intentions were, but you do soon enough. “Keep going. Please.”

The tips of his fingers reach below the band of your panties. He begins to pull them down, just until your hip bones and the start of your mound becomes visible. At first, you disgraced the Capitols groomers' work of ridding your entire body of hair, but you can’t help but feel a little grateful that they did. You knew that Finnick wouldn’t care either way.

You lift your hips, letting Finnick pull your panties over the curve of your ass. When they sit at the halfway point of your thighs, he lowers his head and presses his lips to the area right above the waistband. And he continues to do so, sliding your underwear down and kissing through the journey.

The last kiss he gives you is on the arch of your foot, right before he guides the garment over the remaining part of your body, throwing them off to the side of the bed.

Finnick sits back on his heels then, just looking at you, looking at your legs which are just almost crossed at the knee, your ankles together and one knee raised slightly above the other. You’re shielding the most vulnerable part of you, hiding it almost. But when his green eyes meet your center, briefly meeting your eyes, you slowly part your legs, allowing him to see you in all of your glory.

Finnick sucks in a sharp breath of air, his chest rising with it. He doesn’t let it out until your legs are completely opened and bent at the knee, inviting him in. You sit halfway up on your elbows, watching him, waiting for him.

It’s not long until he makes a move, just a few tense moments and then Finnick’s kicked into action.

His calloused hands on your knees, sliding around to the back of your thighs as he lays on his stomach, directly facing your cunt.

When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. “I wanna taste you, sweetheart. Just for a bit. Is that alright?”

His eyes are visible over your mound, but they’re not focused on you just this once. They’re focused on your cunt, scanning it, taking it all in almost as if he’s committing this moment to his very strong memory.

You’re a little starstruck, reckoning with the notion that Finnick wants to give you head. Therefore, you sit there in stunned silence, attempting to find the words to deliver your over enthusiastic agreement. But Finnick takes your silence negatively.

“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, honey. Just wanna make you feel good. That’s what I’m here for.” And there are those eyes again. They’re pleading, but also making you feel comfortable, reminding you that you’re in charge.

You smile gently, nodding. “Yes.”

And the first lick has your head spinning. His tongue is warm, and wet, and he licks a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit. It’s slow, and methodical. He licks your juices up, but they’re coming back tenfold by the time he’s pressed a kiss to your clit.

A surprised moan pushes up your throat. The feeling has your hips pushing into his face on their own accord, your elbows slipping out from under you and your head throwing back onto the mattress.

Finnick disconnects from you for just a second to let out a pleased groan, but the absence is too much for you already. You’re wiggling your hips, searching for him.

Finnick laughs and the sound has heat rising through you. “‘M still here. Not leaving this pussy anytime soon.”

He lives up to his promise immediately. His mouth’s back on you, licking and sucking on your most sensitive parts.

It’s now that you remember how experienced Finnick is. How knowledgeable he is about the general spots of someone’s body. And he’s able to apply that knowledge to your body, with the help of your zealous responses.

You’re moaning, your back arching, your hands gripping the sheets. Your knees bend more, your legs spread more, it’s all more and more and more. You want more from Finnick. You need more.

You’re communicating that fact when you finally have enough courage to fist a hand into Finnick’s hair, and it’s like he’s rewarding you when he slyly begins to probe a finger at your tight entrance.

You’re clenched, far from relaxed, but with a deep breath, you’re loose enough for him to slide in to the first knuckle, then the second, then all the way, his single digit comfortable within your walls.

Finnick fucks you with his finger, aiding the penetration with his pretty pink lips around your pink nub. He sucks, the pressure making your head spin, your consciousness in the clouds to the point where you don’t notice another of Finnick’s deft fingers teasing your entrance.

“Another?” he asks, voice barely able to be heard due to his proximity to your cunt.

“Uh-huh,” is all the affirmation you can give.

It’s a little tight and uncomfortable at first, but once his digits are evened out and curling in you, and his tongue is lapping up your juices like it’s water, you’re riding so high in a blissed out state that discomfort is the last thing on your mind.

Your approaching orgasm becomes known to you quicker than you can anticipate. It’s like all of a sudden there’s tension in your lower abdomen, begging for your attention, begging to be released.

“Finnick, Finn,” he hums, not stopping any of his ministrations. “‘M so close. Almost there.”

You hadn’t thought it to be possible but Finnick gives you more. His fingers fuck you faster and harder, his cheeks hollow as he alternates between sucking along your nerves and stroking his tongue is the areas that you’re most sensitive.

It feels so fucking good, a pleasure you’d never experienced in your life. You couldn’t imagine being in this position with anyone other than your best friend, someone you trusted with your entire being. It’s as if he knows your body better than you do, because sooner than you would’ve liked, your back is arching and your legs are lifting off the bed and your nails are digging into Finnick’s scalp, all signs that your orgasm is right there and you cum with a loud cry that melts into breathy moans.

Finnick pulls his fingers out of your cunt but his mouth stays on you, placing gentle kisses and kitten licks along the slicked area. When your legs have lowered and your breath has evened out, he pulls his head away from you, a wince leaving his lips.

“Darling,” he starts, receiving an affirmative hum in response. “You’re pulling my hair out.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Your hand lets go of his hair, your body burning with embarrassment. But Finnick’s bright laugh and content smile soothes you.

“‘S okay,” he mumbles as he leans up and presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. Your lips mold to his like they were created for each other, and the kiss is slow, methodical, loving.

You whine when he pulls away, but his hands have already hooked under your thighs and he’s pulling you with him as he starts to sit back.

You end up in the position you started in, sitting on Finnick’s lap, your hands on his shoulders.

Under you, you can feel his bulge confined in his pants. You shift a little over it, your throat beating with your heart rate due to the anticipation.

Finnick’s eyes close softly and his head throws back. Your hand rises to push back the bangs of his hair which lay on his forehead, in favor of resting your skin against his.

“Sweetheart,” he groans. “We …. We can’t.”

Your heart drops.

“Huh?”

“I wanna feel you, sweetheart, I swear.” His eyes open to stare at yours and you notice the sincerity in them. It doesn’t do much to lift your spirits, though. “But we can’t. Not yet.”

Your eyebrows furrow, waiting for further explanation. It comes from him quickly.

“I need you in your right mind in the Games. You need to be focused, and only thinking about survival. Nothing else.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

He chuckles. “Maybe. But we have to play it safe.” A beat. “You trust me, right?”

And you do. Wholeheartedly.

#finnicksworld!#celeste writes thg #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #the hunger games smut #finnick odair x you #finnick odair #the hunger games

3K notes · View notes

rainbowhao · 2 months

Text

i can't take my eyes off of you ♡ beomgyu

genre: fluff/pining ⭒ word count: 1.4k

inspired by the song "cherry bomb" by julianna joy! please listen to it because it matches the vibe so well. and i guess this could be considered an early birthday fic :)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

you’re so patient. beomgyu’s a menace and you’re so patient that it has him falling for you even more than he thought possible—putting up with his antics every day of the week and always allowing him to voice all the dumb and borderline insane ideas he has to you.

like now. gyu’s been ranting to you for the past hour all while inside the safety of your carefully-crafted pillow fort. snacks, plushies, fairy lights, even a speaker for music—it has everything you could need on a night like this. it’s far too easy for your best friend to slip in beside you and let out everything on his mind. even what's better left unsaid.

“you go out with soobin yet?” he can’t help but frown at the name as it leaves his lips. he lies on his back, arms behind his head and decked out in his comfiest pajamas. he’d heard all about the unexpected run-in with your former high school crush and had been unable to think about anything else all week.

“mhmm,” is all you say. this has beomgyu turning toward you immediately. he can’t stand when you act vague. how are you so calm and unbothered while he's dying inside?

“you did?” he leans in a little as if you’d then be prompted to respond. “well? how did it go?”

you want to smile at how eager he looks, waiting for you to give him any little bit of information on what went down.

“it was nice. we just met for lunch and caught up.” you shrug, gaze returning to the blanket currently acting as the ceiling to your fort.

beomgyu huffs. “i knew it. he likes you.” he shuffles around before crossing his arms across his chest. “so what? are you going to date now or something?” he asks cooly, as if it wasn’t the worst possible thing he could imagine.

“gyu, seriously.” you chuckle. “i haven’t seen him in years. it was friendly—nothing more.” your best friend had a gift—the gift of jumping to conclusions. you know he’s silently pouting right now. he'd always been like this—grumpy whenever you mentioned hanging out with anyone other than him.

beomgyu wasn’t a possessive guy. at least when it came to everything else in his life. but you were different. was it so bad he wanted you to himself? he knew you better than anyone, could treat you right in ways you’d never imagine. so what if soobin was taller, better looking, the textbook definition of mr. right?

he didn’t get you like beomgyu did.

“you look pretty right now,” gyu tells you quietly. he doesn’t care if you’ll scold him for it—it’s true. beneath the glowing lights, your soul exposed to him in such an intimate way that only this space could bring, you’re stunning.

“what?” you’re flushing. “you’re delirious. go to sleep.” you shove a pillow his way but he just blocks it. he’s giving you those puppy-like eyes, hair hanging in his face; it’s gotten longer than it ever has. “you planning on getting a haircut?” you can’t help but reach out and run your fingers through the strands. maybe it's you who’s delirious.

his eyes flutter closed at your gentle touches. “should i?” his lips barely even move.

“I like it a lot,” you tell him honestly. “suits you.”

“oh?” his mouth curls into a smirk “then i’ll definitely keep it long.”

you enjoy moments like these, when beomgyu’s mellow and tender-hearted. you didn’t mind the craziness, sure, but it was rare to see him in such a raw and exposed state. no games, no antics, just gyu—the boy you had inevitably fallen for.

you find yourself getting lost in his eyes when they open once more. he’s looking at you so softly you can’t seem to turn away. the twinkling lights cast a soft glow on his face, making his lips look even more pink than usual. you can feel your heartbeat quickening with each passing moment.

“am i that beautiful?” beomgyu jokes. he dramatically blinks to show off his long eyelashes. your throat’s gone dry.

“you are beautiful, gyu,” you murmur. you don’t even realize you’ve begun stroking the side of his cheek until his hand grabs yours, forcing your fingers to come to an immediate halt.

“so you admit it.” beomgyu cups the back of your hand. “you adore me, don’t you?” he giggles to himself. “i’ll remember this moment forever now—the day you finally confessed my beauty out loud.”

“ridiculous.” you scoff and yank back your hand. “you always know how to ruin things.”

“what things?” beomgyu prompts. and when you try to turn onto your back, he just peers over you, arms coming on either side of your torso. beomgyu doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. he doesn’t want to; he likes being near you. “are you mad now?” he hums, face becoming increasingly closer to your own.

“no,” you say blankly.

“are you embarrassed?” he teases. “you are, aren’t you? my cute baby’s all flustered.” beomgyu finds the situation all too amusing.

“i—i am not! and who says something like that?” you’re flaming hot beneath him, suddenly feeling very trapped.

“don’t go out with soobin,” he says suddenly. “he likes you. i know he does.” his exhale’s shaky, forearms nearly wobbling as he holds himself up. “how could he not?” he whispers the last part.

“why are you so obsessed with this?” you study him. even though he hadn’t said anything in the previous days, you knew he’d been stressing about it. beomgyu was like an open book to you. but sometimes there were things about him you didn’t understand. why was he so upset over the idea of you dating someone?

“i don’t want you to be anyone else’s but mine.” beomgyu confesses. his nose finds its way to the crook of your neck, nudging at the warm skin before he dares let his lips press against you. he kisses you so briefly, so lightly that you almost think you’d imagined it. but then he’s leaving more in a trail down your neck, whispering tiny little pleas in between. “please…let me show you.”

“show me what?” the tiny space is so incredibly warm now. “gyu, w—what are you doing?” you’d never known him to be so forward. his sudden confidence had your head spinning.

he pulls back a little to look at you. “i want you to know how much you mean to me.” beomgyu couldn’t help himself; the hazy lighting and late-night fatigue had him thinking unspeakable things about his best friend and truthfully, he’d never wanted something so badly as he wanted you in this very moment. “can i baby?”

there he goes with that name again.

“okay,” you whisper. “how?”

“first,” he says lowly, “i’m going to kiss you.” with enough of his weight on you, he’s able to bring one hand up to your face. “right here.” the tip of his finger traces your bottom lip. “and then i’m going to tell you just how crazy you make me. or maybe you already know that.” he smiles. “as for soobin...tell him to get in line."

#beomgyu #tomorrow x together #txt #choi beomgyu #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt beomgyu #txt fluff #beomgyu x reader #txt fanfic #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #txt fics #beomgyu fics #kpop imagines #txt drabbles #beomgyu fic

751 notes · View notes

mondaymelon · 1 year

Text

— 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝗲𝗻: 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ♥

: sumeru edition!! : (haitham + kaveh + cyno + tighnari x gn!reader) ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

AL HAITHAM is a man of few words.

because of that, you aren't able to read his expression most times - and many things go unsaid. there are a lot of things he wants to tell you. if you'd let him, of course. he just doesn't know how to ask - or how to bring it up, so haitham just stays silent.

it's only on quiet nights like these where his true feelings toward you begin to escape from his serious facade.

he whispered your name. "are you awake?"

when you didn't respond, the corners of his lips curved upward, just the slightest amount.

and then there's a warm hand on your head, stroking your hair reassuringly. his steady breathing is methodic as he leans forward and gently kisses your forehead, before whispering:

"rest well, my love." ♥

it's no overstatement to say that KAVEH is quick to anger.

but he tries not to stay mad whenever the two of you butt heads. after all, if the contender is his favorite person in the world, he really can’t, can he? then he’d just be acting like a terrible boyfriend!! :(

so every time he gets upset with you, or vise versa, he's got to find a way to make up with you! in the end, it's only fair!

kaveh insists on treating you to meals, even when you know he has no mora to spare. it's his way of showing how much he cares for you!! besides, if he has to room with al haitham, so be it. it's better than not being able to see your joyous face when you get to eat delicious food!! it makes kaveh unwillingly smile no matter the occasion.

but even the renowned architectural genius has his shortcomings. it's... well, he's not great at apologizing - or admitting he's wrong. he can't help the way his ears and cheeks flush as he starts to stutter... he's not supposed to make any mistakes!!

"i-i'm s...sorry...!!" he can't even meet your eyes, but all you can think is:

"adorable." ♥

CYNO wants to do everything he can to see you smile.

which is selfish of him, he'll admit that. but he witnessed you cry once, and that was enough for him to swear to never let that happen again - at least not while he was in the picture.

hmm... just how should he make you happy?? tighnari insisted his jokes really weren't funny... but maybe if he told them to you?

and he does just that.

it doesn't go two minutes without a wisecrack from him - but for some reason, you just can't seem to stop laughing. maybe it's his actual humor, or maybe it's about cyno himself, but there's just something about him that makes you smile without fail.

and when cyno is able to see that expression on your face, his heart flutters. he can't stop the way his heart is beginning to pick up pace and the way the atmosphere just feels warm. all he notices is how you look so immaculately beautiful right now - like someone from another world - so perfect, and all his.

so it was okay to be selfish this once, right? ♥

TIGHNARI tends to rant to you. a lot. he's got quite the mouthful to say about his coworkers and acquaintances.

however, that's not exactly a surprise. his temper and character is well known amongst the forest rangers and even the civilians through his sassy manner of speaking and how harshly he reprimands those who ignore the rules of the forest.

so when he comes home from work to the shared home and settles onto the couch next to you, taking in a deep, aggravated breath, you already know what's about to come.

but, somewhat surprisingly, he happens to a good listener as well. (and not just because of those fluffy ears of his!!)

maybe it's a bad day at work, or maybe you just woke up on the wrong side of bed - tighnari will listen to it all, letting you lean on his shoulder while you ramble away. he waits until you're done speaking before offering a couple sentences of gentle advice, then opens his figure, inviting you in for a hug.

and how could you refuse?

you mumble into his embrace, face warm. "thanks, nari."

"it was the least i could do." ♥

(a/n) fjaldjg fluff. god i love kaveh so much hes just??? ???? ahem. tell me any characters you'd like to see + any prompt if you want !! thank you for reading ♥

he's so babygirl

941 notes · View notes

violetsteve · 1 year

Text

If you prefer, this is also posted on AO3

After the almost end of the world, Steve decides he’s going to put the moves on Eddie Munson.

Robin may or may not laugh in his face when he announces it.

The thing is, despite Robin almost laughing him out of the building, the thing is Steve is still figuring out his sexuality. He knows he likes girls, he’s always liked girls, but then Robin pointed out that maybe he couldn’t figure out what he wanted because he wasn’t looking in the right place and Steve realized she was right . Sure, Robin had meant more of a ‘ stop going after girls who are traditionally pretty and from well off families and try going out with girls whose company you actually enjoy’ and not a ‘ hey, dudes are kinda hot, too, right? It was real weird how transfixed you seemed to be on Eddie Munsons lips while we were actively fighting demon monsters,’ but Steve has always been good at reading in between the lines. Or, more like inserting what he wants in the gaps of what people leave unsaid.

So, no, Robin did not tell Steve to open his eyes and realize that straight guys don’t exactly think about how another guys lips will look slick with spit, how they’ll feel under the pressure of his thumb, what the sweet satisfaction of them partying so readily under his will feel like, but she did tell him to broaden his horizons and honestly, they were basically the same thing.

Which is why Steve feels like she should be more supportive of his plans to woo Eddie Munson onto his couch—and maybe, if he’s feeling ambitious, eventually into his bed.

“Robin, come on . I’m serious!” Steve will never admit, even under Russian torture again, that he whines it. He’s coming to Robin as a sounding board, not so she can make fun of him. If he wants someone to make fun of his lack of prowess, he would go talk to Dustin.

Or, yeah on second thought no. He’s not actually sure his ego could take that much of a hit at the moment.

“Sorry, sorry,” she gasps, gripping the—newly rebuilt and polished—family video counter in front of her. “I just—Steve, that’s-that’s so ambitious . You literally just came out to me less than a week ago and you’re already talking about getting with a boy. And Eddie Munson at that.”

Steve scowls at her, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that he knows looks bitchy, but he can’t help it because—

“Don’t say his name like that. He literally almost died to save us all. He’s not fucking dirty .”

Robin immediately sobers, a guilty, but irritated look on her face. “That’s not how I meant it, Steve, and you know it. Don’t get bitchy at me just because you’re feeling sensitive about your feelings for a boy.”

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Steve isn’t really angry at her for laughing—Robin makes fun of him at least 7 times a day, Steve would be more concerned if she didn’t make at least one joke about this—and he isn’t even mad at her for putting a weird emphasis on Eddie’s name. No, he’s all twisted up about his feelings and he’s never been good at expressing them, let alone talking about them. He’s feeling self conscious and his skin is prickling with embarrassment and the easiest thing to do is lash out about it.

“That’s not—“ Steve cuts himself off, looking away from Robin as his shoulders slump. “You’re right,” he mumbles. “Sorry. I just. I wanna fucking kiss him so bad , Rob, and that freaks me out a little.” Steve untucks one of his arms to scrub a hand over his face, leaving the other one tucked around his waist to protect his vulnerable bits.

“Hey,” Robin murmurs, closing the distance between them so she can settle her hands on his shoulders. “I get it. Do you think I acted like a sane person the first time I realized I wanna kiss girls? I think I cried for a week. Kerry the stuffed Koala had to go to therapy because of all of my crying. It was a serious time in the Buckley house.”

Steve smiles behind his hand. He loves her so much. She’s really his best friend. He’s so thankful for her.

“You still cry about kissing girls,” Steve says, rather than admitting any of that. She already knows she’s smart, Steve doesn’t need to add any more to her ego. It just gives her more brain to bully him with.

He drops the hand covering his face to look at her. “Only now it’s more of a,” Steve puts on a high pitched, whiny voice, “‘why do I have to go to work when I could be spending all day making out with my girlfriend.’” He brings both of his hands up to clasp in front of his chest, batting his eyelashes at her in a fake-coy way.

Robin shoves at him, catches him off guard and he goes stumbling backwards into the counter, laughing the whole way.

“Shut up , you absolute dickhead, ” she all but screeches, reaching out to give his chest another shove for good measure. “You literally have no room to talk considering you started this shift by announcing your intentions to, quite literally, crawl into Eddie’s lap and kiss him stupid . That’s almost verbatim what you said, Steve.”

Steve’s still chuckling as he rights his position a little, leaning back against the counter more comfortably. “Yeah, I did say that.” He sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth before he continues with, “I really, really wanna sit on his lap and kiss him until he can’t focus, Rob.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but it’s more fond than annoyed. Steve can tell—he’s been on the receiving end of about 90 percent of Robin’s eye rolls, he’s getting good at distinguishing the emotions behind each one.

“I still can’t believe you have a crush on Eddie Munson of all people. He’s so weird ,” She laughs, but Steve can tell that that, too, is fond. Robin and Eddie have a weird friendship. They geek out over obscure instruments and the nuance of tacky movies together. Steve doesn’t get it, but he enjoys watching how expressive both of them can be. He once watched Eddie climb onto a table while arguing with Robin about one of their movies. Robin followed him up shortly after, though, so Steve isn’t sure why she thinks the weird is limited to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, and he’s man enough to admit that it sounds dreamy . God, he’s pathetic over Eddie. It scares the shit out of him. “You know, the other day he gave me a rock. It wasn’t even, like, a cool rock. It was literally just a rock. When I asked him why he just shrugged and was like ‘I dunno, it made me think of you.’”

Robin’s grin grows. “Oh my God. What did you do with the rock?”

Steve shoots her a disgruntled look. “What do you think I did with the rock? I put in my pocket and then brought it home and set it on my nightstand. Eddie gave it to me, I wasn’t just going to throw it on the ground again. That’s rude.”

Robin absolutely cackles at this, there’s no other way to describe it. She’s awash in glee as she claps her hands together a few times. “ Jesus , Steve. You’ve got it so bad for this man.”

“God,” Steve mutters, running a hand over his face again. “That’s not even the worst part, Rob. He like. He grabs his utensils with his whole fist when he eats. It’s so weird, and it’s so messy . It makes fuck all sense. He doesn't even grab a pencil that way. Just his fucking eating utensils .

“And he walks so chaotic. He just randomly breaks into a sprint. Just starts fucking running out of nowhere. And he bounces. As if the random running wasn’t enough, he just fucking starts jumping. Sometimes he jumps at me, and it’s all I can do to actually catch him before he eats dirt. Or- or he’ll just. Spin. Just twirl in the middle of the sidewalk while still carrying on a conversation.” Steve slumps, his back getting slightly scraped against the counter as he sinks to his butt.

“The man has zero regard for personal space and he always makes way too intense of eye contact. Sometimes he’ll use one of his character voices in the middle of an otherwise totally normal conversation, and he’s always climbing on things. He’s loud and he’s weird and I wanna wrap my fingers around the collar of his shirt, shove him against a wall and then shove my tongue down his throat , jesus christ. ” Steve buries his face in his knees, his mind playing an endless loop of Eddie smiling with those stupid lips that are always cherry red and raw from his constant gnawing. Steve wants to bite them for him.

“Oh, my God, Steve.” Robing sinks down to sit across from him. “This is pathetic . I, like, knew you had a crush on Eddie but this is like. Dangerous territory. Like, the next step might be the L word level territory.”

Steve makes a small squeaking noise, his face still buried in his knees. Robin’s words hint at something that Steve is so not ready to admit to himself yet. She’s hitting way too close to something Steve has been avoiding actively and vehemently since he realized the attraction he feels for boys is decidedly not of the straight variety.

For a moment, neither of them say anything. Then, like the angel she so clearly is, Robin says, “So, wanna tell me about operation ‘crawl into Eddie’s lap and makeout with him?’”

Steve laughs, the tightness in his chest slowly easing. He lifts his head, and then spills his guts.

***

The plan starts simply. First, he needs to get Eddie alone . No annoying tagalongs to potentially interrupt.

It’s easier said than done. For two days straight, Steve asks Eddie to hang out and, somehow, one of the kids manages to weasel into their plans.

It’s driving Steve nuts.

He casually asks Eddie to watch a movie, give him a proper education like him and Robin are always going on about, and Dustin overhears and invites himself.

He asks Eddie to go for a walk, makes an excuse about it being gorgeous outside while he plots ways for the walk to end right outside his house, isn’t that neat, but Lucas and Max overhear and suddenly it’s a group affair.

He asks Eddie to get milkshakes, plans to lure him back to his house with the promise of complete control of Steve’s record player, but El overhears and asks if she can tag along and Steve just can’t look into her big, earnest eyes and tell her no. He’s not a monster.

So they get milkshakes with El, and it’s fun . Of course it’s fun, but Steve is getting desperate . It’s been a little over a week since he hatched his mad plan with Robin and he’s about to start climbing the walls with anticipation.

It doesn’t help that Eddie has a mother fucking oral fixation. At every opportunity he’s either putting stuff in his mouth or chewing on something. It’s fucking rude, is what it is. It’s like he doesn’t even realize Steve is suffering.

It all finally comes to a head a full week and four days after his conversation with Robin on the floor of Family Video. He’s stopping by Eddie’s house to grab something Dustin left behind because Dustin asked and he’s nice . It’s maybe also because it’s a great excuse to see Eddie, but Dustin sure as shit doesn’t need to know that that’s the sole reason Steve said he will.

Eddie is slightly bent over, riffling through his Dungeons and Dorks stuff, and Steve is trying so hard to pretend like he’s not entirely focusing on his ass and the line of exposed skin above his belt. If Eddie turns around right now, he’s busted for sure.

Eddie’s just mentioned some kind of dragon when he lets out a triumphant noise, his story coming to an abrupt halt as he spins on his heel to face Steve.

“Aha!” He exclaims, thrusting a notebook in Steve's direction.

Steve automatically reaches out to take it, his fingers brushing over the backs of Eddie’s in the switch over. Eddie bites his bottom lip at the contact, avoiding Steve’s gaze, and suddenly all Steve is thinking about is his mouth.

Steve debates with himself for a moment. This isn’t really how he planned to seduce his way into Eddie Munson’s lap, but he’s adaptable. If the years of almost apocalypses have taught Steve anything, it’s that sometimes you have to make do with what you have.

And what Steve has is an empty trailer save the two of them, and a couch less than ten feet away. He’s got the object of his affections standing in front of him, and Steve decides to adapt.

He wets his own lips, stepping towards Eddie. His hand is still holding Eddie’s hostage over the notebook.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve murmurs, ducking his head so he can look up through his lashes.

Steve watches Eddie’s breath catch, watches him stutter over his next sentence.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out, his eyes flicking between Steve’s eyes and his mouth at a rapid speed. “Of c-course. I mean, it happens. Kids forget things. I’m sure Dustin just wanted to, like, go over the last session's notes for anything he missed.”

“Of course,” Steve agrees, taking another step into Eddie’s space. He’s aware that he’s primarily staring at Eddie’s lips, which is probably rude, but he can’t help it. They’re wet and shiny and Steve has been thinking about them an obsessive amount for the last week and a half.

“We’re, um, I-I mean they’re going against a red dragon,” Eddie continues. Steve’s aware of this. It’s what Eddie had been telling him when he’d found the notebook. “They’re very powerful, almost impossible to defeat.”

“Are they?” Steve’s only half following the conversation, but that’s not saying much. He has a hard time keeping up with the DnD talk on a regular day.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie says, and then he’s off. He starts spitting words so fast Steve wouldn’t be able to keep up even if he were paying complete attention.

“Eddie,” Steve says, but Eddie is still talking, still mumbling along about the red dragon.

“Eddie,” Steve tries again, but it’s like he’s shouting in an empty room. He knows Eddie knows he’s talking to him, can tell by how wide Eddie’s eyes are, how he’s not even trying to not slur his rapidfire words together. If Eddie was talking about dragons for the hell of it, he’d be gesticulating and probably climbing on things. As it were, he’s got his gaze fixed on Steve, eyes comically wide as his words rush together—barely getting one out before the next slew rush into it in a truly amusing word traffic jam.

Eddie’s nervous , and fuck if that doesn’t thrill Steve to his core. Steve takes the final step towards him to completely close the distance and—

Eddie takes a step back, his words stuttering along with Steve’s heart in his chest. He wasn’t expecting that, wasn’t expecting Eddie to back away from him so quickly. Steve has half a second to be hurt, to mentally kick himself because get a fucking clue , Harrington, before he catches Eddie’s eyes darting down to his lips, his tongue unconsciously swiping along his lower lip before his gaze skitters back up to Steve’s.

And, oh, yeah , Steve has him exactly where he wants him. Eddie isn’t stepping back because he doesn’t want Steve. No, he’s stepping back because he’s prey . Steve is stalking towards him with a single minded focus and Eddie is skittering backwards like a scared rabbit—bouncing back step by step as Steve approaches until his back collides with the wall. That, finally, seems to knock all their air out of Eddie. The dragon conversation dies on his lips as Steve finally—fucking finally —closes the remaining distance between them. He reaches out, cupping Eddie's cheek in one hand, his jaw in the other, all while pressing up against Eddie from hip to chest.

“ Eddie, ” Steve murmurs, his eyes hooding. This time, Steve feels Eddie’s breath catch, feels the way a tremor works its way through Eddie’s body. He’s staring up at Steve with wide, wild eyes. He looks like a deer caught in a trap—ready to break his leg trying to get away if he needs to.

Steve isn’t sure why that makes him feel a little wild, but it does.

He stretches his thumb out to swipe across Eddie's bottom lip—already bitten and red from Eddie’s nervous chewing. God , it drives Steve crazy . He has a half-hysterical thought about offering his own up for Eddie to chew on when he’s nervous. Eddie makes him crazy .

Steve licks at his own lips as he watches the way his thumb catches and drags and the swollen skin of Eddie’s bottom lip. Eddie’s trembling in earnest now, and Steve feels his pulse thundering in his ears. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad his fucking toes are curling with the anticipation.

He flicks his gaze up, away from Eddie’s lips up to his eyes and he has to fight back a groan. Eddie looks fucking wrecked and Steve hasn’t even kissed him yet. His eyes are wide and wild, his pupils blown and there’s a scarlet flush in his cheeks. He’s fucking panting against Steve’s face and he can’t take it any more. He really, really can’t. He has to kiss him—screw anticipation, screw driving Eddie past the brink. He needs and he needs now.

“ Eddie, ” Steve practically gasps . “Eddie, please.” Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his body unconsciously rocks forward, seeking even more of Eddie out. “Wanna kiss you so bad, please say I can, please—”

And before Steve can get another plea out, Eddie’s slamming his head forward with enough force to knock their teeth together in an uncomfortable clack ; enough force that their noses knock together in a painful way.

But Steve doesn't care . He doesn’t care because Eddie’s lips are on his and he feels like there’s liquid fire coursing through his veins. He feels lit up from the inside out as Eddie finally, finally touches him back. He fists a hand in the back of Steve’s shirt, the other winding through Steve’s hair and fuck it’s finally happening. After night upon night of imagining what kissing Eddie Munson would be like, Steve’s finally doing it.

And goddamn is he doing it. Eddie’s lips are slick against his, hot and encouraging . They slide together in a way that has Steve’s mind going blissfully blank, his only thoughts being hotwetyesmore.

He kisses him messy, lips moving together in a too fast pace that neither of them can keep track of; bruising force in the way their lips slide, spit sliping from their parted lips in a slow trickle that has Steve’s fingers curling against Eddie’s jaw.

He uses that hand to tilt Eddie’s head up slightly, angling it enough that Steve can get his bottom lip between his own and suck slightly. The first slid of Eddie’s lip between Steve’s own has him seeing fucking stars .

A punched out groan breaks free from Eddie’s throat and he rocks forward into Steve, seeking more . The hand in the middle of his back pulls and Steve is helpless to do anything but push Eddie more firmly into the wall. He knows it has to hurt, has to be restricting Eddie’s breathing with how tightly they’re pressed together, but he can’t take enough focus away from Eddie’s mouth to care . Plus, if Eddie minds that much he wouldn’t be pulling Steve closer .

Eddie breathes a wet gasp into Steve’s mouth when he takes his teeth to the lip still tucked between his own, and Steve can’t help but let out a gasp of his own. Eddie tastes fucking phenomenal. He can taste the lingering tobacco on his tongue, the salty tang of the popcorn he must have had earlier, and just the overwhelming taste of Eddie. Hot, sweet, fucking sublime. Steve‘s never been a particularly religious man, but he feels like he’s drinking heaven straight from Eddie’s mouth. With every gasp, every moan, every brush of Eddie’s tongue, he feels one step closer to absolution. It’s addicting .

God , he wants more. He wants Eddie’s hands all over him, on bare skin. He wants those deft musicians fingers to snake into his hair, tug a bit. He wants Eddie over him and under him and—

He stills suddenly, a thought occurring to him. The line that had triggered this whole thing—his announcement to Robin back in Family Video—and suddenly there’s a burning need in Steve’s gut. God, he needs to sit in Eddie’s lap right now. Needs to feel his strong thighs under him, needs Eddie’s hands on his ass and his tongue in his mouth.

“ Fuck, ” Steve bites out when he pulls back. Tearing his mouth away from Eddie’s is so much harder than it has any right to be.

Eddie’s staring at Steve with glassy eyes, his lips shiny and red and oh fuck even his chin is glistening with their spit. Steve wants to devour him.

“Go sit on the couch,” Steve says, and is pleasantly surprised that his voice only sounds a little rough, a little shaky.

“What?” Eddie croaks out, staring at Steve for a beat. Then, miracle of miracles, he does it. He stares at Steve the whole time, the glassy look getting a little clearer, and Steve thinks that simply will not do.

The minute Eddie is seated, Steve’s crawling his way into his lap. He wedges his knees into the crease at the back of the couch, shuffling as far forward as he can so their chests are pressing together, their clothed crotches aligning. Then, without giving Eddie a chance to adjust, he drops down, pressing the full weight of his ass into Eddie’s thighs and, by proximity, his dick.

“ Jesus Christ ,” Eddie swears, his hands shooting out to grab at Steve’s ass on instinct. Steve almost giggles . It’s exactly what he wants.

“You can just call me Steve,” he mutters, and before Eddie can reply, he’s sweeping in and claiming Eddie’s lips again. Eddie huffs against his mouth, but let’s Steve have the last word. Steve’s glad because he has plans .

Plans that start with Steve winding those thick curls around his fingers as he slides his lips against Eddie’s. Eddie pushes his head back into Steve’s hands like a cat, and it makes Steve smile into their kiss, which makes Eddie smile into the kiss. It’s like a domino effect—once Steve feels Eddie’s smile against his, he starts giggling like a schoolgirl. He can’t help it, this feels unreal in the best possible way.

Then Eddie’s off, giggling back into Steve’s mouth. They’re both just sitting there giggling at each other, eyes squinted and happy . God, Steve feels euphoric in this moment, perched in Eddie’s lap like it’s his throne, with Eddie’s hands on his ass.

Eddie pulls back after a moment, when their smiles are too wide to actually kiss. He brings a hand up to gently brush a strand of hair away from Steve’s eyes, tucking the long lock behind his ear before putting his hand back on Steve’s ass.

“You’re unbelievable, Steve Harrington,” Eddie whispers, eyes so full of affection that Steve feels his insides turn to mush. He squirms in Eddie’s laps, ducking his head to mouth at Eddie’s neck because if he stares into his eyes any longer he’s going to do something stupid . Stupid like admit that he’s pretty fucking sure he’s in love with Eddie, has been since he gave him that dumb rock for no decernable reason other than he wanted to, because he was thinking of Steve.

Steve tongues at the tendon in Eddie’s neck that’s stretched taunt, rubs his nose along his jaw and up to the hollow under his ear. Eddie laughs, tilting his head sideways to give Steve easier access.

“Oh, now you’re gonna be shy? After you practically pounced on me earli—”

Eddie’s words cut off in a choked groan as Steve bites, hard , at the tendon he was just showing attention to.

“ Steve, ” Eddie gasps, but Steve doesn’t let him do any other talking. No, he’s not going to let Eddie derail him again. So, he dives back for Eddie’s mouth, licking into it, not slowing down and not giving Eddie a chance to catch up. He smooths his tongue alongside Eddie’s, lets Eddie push back against it with his own for a millisecond, before he’s switching tactics—licking behind the top row of Eddie’s teeth, sliding his tongue over Eddie’s bottom lip.

Eddie squeezes his ass at the sudden onslaught, and Steve can’t help the small jerk his body gives at that. He grinds down, a gasp trapped in the humid air between them as sharp waves of pleasure shoot up his spine. He’s trapped in between Eddie’s lips and his hands and he feels like he’s high with it.

He’s enjoying himself so much.

He slides his tongue along Eddie’s again, enjoys the way it's slightly rough and gloriously slick against his own. Enjoys the way it makes his pulse thrum a little faster, his fingers grip a little tighter where they’re fisted in Eddie’s hair—the way it makes Eddie squeeze a little tighter, which makes Steve grind down a little harder.

Steve feels the evidence of Eddie’s interest, has been feeling it, and knows Eddie has to be aware of Steve’s own. And Steve’s fantasized about Eddie’s lips for so long that he’s tried to keep it to just that—tried to focus on the heady drag of lips on lips—but it’s hard to ignore the way Steve’s own hips are twisting down, seeking as much of Eddie as possible. Hard to ignore the way Eddie has his own feet planted on the floor, meeting Steve’s hips with firm thrusts of his own.

They’re sharing humid air and sharp gasps, their lips swollen and honestly sore . Steve’s lips ache in the best way he’s ever felt, and Steve doesn’t want to stop. Wants to sit right here on Eddie’s strong thighs, wants to feel Eddie’s teeth nipping at the too sensitive skin of his mouth, wants to kiss Eddie for the rest of his life .

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Steve has never just kissed someone like this. He’s never kissed just to feel, kissed just for the pleasure of it with no expectations for what’s to follow. He feels intoxicated. He’s utterly, wholly blissed out on Eddie Munson’s mouth and he never wants it to end.

They kiss for so long that Steve has honestly started to lose feeling in his lips. It’s weird feeling them so sore, so numb. But they are, so he slowly, so slowly pulls back. Leaning down for a few lingering pecks as he puts a little distance between their mouths.

Eddie’s mouth is bright red, spit slick and so tempting. Steve watches with fascination as a single string of spit connects their lips, stretching until he’s put enough distance between them that it breaks.

Steve bites his lip on a moan, thinks that’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

He meets Eddie’s gaze. His eyes are wild, pupils blown out. His hair is an absolute disaster from the way Steve’s been running his fingers through it, and his cheeks are flushed so prettily. Steve can’t resist sneaking one more kiss in, lingering around afterwards to rub their noses together.

“Hi,” Steve finally murmurs and fuck, is that his voice? Jesus, he sounds wrecked.

“Hi,” Eddie says back, his smile verging on loopy. “Did you know that some corvids can understand physics?”

Steve stares at him for a beat, a little stunned and a lot confused by the abrupt topic switch. Eddie stares back, a look on his face that Steve can only take for regret, his already pink face is turning positively crimson.

It’s dead quiet for a moment, then Steve bursts into laughter. His chest absolutely swells with affection, with, fuck it, love. God damn , he can’t deny it any longer. The love he feels for this boy sitting under him is overwhelming at the best of times, and it feels like it’s just bursting out of him at this moment. He’s coming apart at the seams with his feelings for Eddie, and he’s done trying to pretend that they’re anything but that.

“Oh my God, ” Eddie mutters, bringing his hands up to hide his face. It’s so endearing. Steve is endeared. “Sorry, fuck. I don’t know why I just said that.”

“Jesus Christ, dude.” Steve’s still grinning down at Eddie, moving his hands to clasp around Eddie’s wrists, trying to pry his hands away. He never wants to not be looking at Eddie. He’s so fucking weird and Steve likes him so much. “I like you so fucking much .”

Eddie lets Steve pull his hands away, and he…there’s no other word for it, Eddie just absolutely lights up. It’s like Steve’s staring directly at the sun. Eddie is beaming up at him, his smile so wide that his eyes are basically closed. He has laugh lines, and Steve is already obsessed with them, already thinking of ways to make Eddie smile this wide, this radiant all the time.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve confirms. “Just ask Robin. I’ve been whining about it for weeks .”

Eddie laughs again, his grin not dimming in the slightest, and Steve just has to taste it—has to get his mouth around Eddie’s happiness. So, he swoops back in, feels Eddie’s laughter transfer to him via their connected mouths, feels a piece of himself that’s long been looking for a home finally slot into place.

#LOOK #i just think eddie is the type of person to say the most interesting facts at the worst possible time #and i think steve is kinda into that #idiot 4 idiot yknow?#anyway no idea where this came from #this fic struck me like a fever and would not leave until i purged it #so enjoy!#steddie #steddie fic rec #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson fic #steddie fan fiction #my writing

2K notes · View notes

azirapherale · 6 months

Text

Of things unsaid

AZIRAPHALE Ah, yes, I thought perhaps they might send you. [beat] Well.. [beat] I’m ready to go. CROWLEY Go where? AZIRAPHALE To Hell. CROWLEY I’m not taking you to Hell, angel. Notice Crowley doesn't confirm or deny being sent to take Aziraphale to Hell. Just that he - who was ordered to slaughter the blameless goats of blameless Job's and did. not. do. it. - is not doing this either.

AZIRAPHALE Why not? CROWLEY Well, I don’t think you’d like it.

"Why not?" is answered with a deflection that is more or less an "I don't want to," and very much not a denial that he was sent to do it. And if not liking Hell is a reason for an angel to not be taken there, no angels should ever have gone. It is by definition and design a miserable penal colony for wayward angels, such that none of them like it.

AZIRAPHALE But you have to. I’m like you now: A demon. CROWLEY (laughing) Sorry. You think you’re a demon? With your curly little�� and your neat white…

Making fun of Aziraphale for suggesting that he's a demon is another deflection. Crowley does not deny Aziraphale's claim/worry/supposition that he is a demon. It's implied by the joke that he isn't, but only because the joke relies on the incorrect premise that demons cannot have cute curly hair or neat white clothes, like it's an immutable law of celestial physics or an unbreakable sumptuary law. Hmm...

I'm not even going to bother showing you images of Crowley's curly hair because we both know there's more pictures of his curly hair on your phone than there is of your own family.

AZIRAPHALE I’m a fallen angel! I lied. To thwart the will of God. CROWLEY Well, yeah, you did but… I’m not gonna tell anybody. Are you? AZIRAPHALE (Shakes head no) CROWLEY No. Then nothing has to change, does it? Again Crowley does not deny Aziraphale's assertion that he is a Fallen Angel, whereas, tellingly, he does confirm that Aziraphale lied to thwart the will of God. Then they enter into their first ever arrangement, which is quite possibly thwarting the will of God even more.

AZIRAPHALE (long pause) But what am I? CROWLEY You’re just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.

That sounds like a shift away from the Heaven faction to me. One very fascinating thing about Good Omens, the magic of holy water and hellfire notwithstanding, there doesn't seem to be much difference between angels and demons beyond aesthetics and political faction. Even being "good" or "evil" is an aesthetic. None of the demons seem to actually know what "evil" is and are flummoxed when humans come up with far worse than occurs to them. Most of the angels do horrible things but call them "good," a rose by any other name and all that.

AZIRAPHALE That sounds um… CROWELY Lonely? AZIRAPHALE (Nods) CROWLEY Yeah. AZIRAPHALE But you said it wasn’t! CROWLEY I’m a demon. I lied.

Nice touch, that, lamp-shading lying by bringing it up in a conversation that one can easily suspect may be constructed out of a pile of lies (even if they are lies of omission)

In light of all that, I would like you to think about the poetry of this scene in which Aziraphale, never having had his Grace boiled out of him in Hell, excises it himself or some goodly portion of it anyway, and casts it down with his own hand, for his own reasons, with his own free will.

#good omens 2 #meta #textual analysis #aziraphale #angelic halo #subtext #I feel that the later scene echos the former #grrr tumblr won't let me format this like a script

278 notes · View notes

blues824 · 4 months

Note

✨️Hello✨️

I believe you know what I'm requesting :)) anyways

Happy new year!!

Hell yes I do. A marriage proposal from Sebek.

Gender-neutral reader

Sebek Zigvolt

What was the point of elaborate plans if you could ruin them so easily because of an impulse? An inescapable urge? An act that was done despite having such an elaborate plan.

He had an entire plan to ask you to be his for eternity. To ask you to grow old alongside him. To ask you to be the person he returns home to when he places down the mantle of guard and soldier to take up the mantle of ‘husband’.

Yes, he was going to propose.

A picnic in the woods, fairy-lights strung up to make the scene feel a bit more romantic. This was all with both Lilia, Silver, and even Waka-sama’s help. He would have wined and dined you, reciting a poem he had carefully crafted, before pulling out the ring at the end, getting on his knee, and asking if you would marry him.

Why did you have to be the way that you are?

It was so hard yet so easy to just coexist with you. He could be his true self around you. You’ve even picked up his favorite book so that conversation would never cease between the two of you. However, it made him nervous that he could mess it all up at any given point.

This was his first time in a relationship, and it was serious. I mean, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, if you would have him. He wanted to make sure that the moment was perfect, tailored to both you and him.

However, it was on the way there where he popped the question. He was leading you by your hand when you made a joke. It was a simple joke about how you’ve blindly trusted everyone since you came to Twisted Wonderland, and he opened his mouth before he could think about it.

“If you marry me, then you won’t be trusting blindly anymore. Not if I can help it,” He didn’t register what he said until you stopped in your tracks.

“Is that an official proposal, Sebek Zigvolt?” You asked quietly. That’s when it hit him like a punch to the face.

“W-Would you want it to be?” Since when did he start stuttering? He was really messing this up. However, as you looked into his eyes with nothing but pure love and adoration, he found himself losing the embarrassment.

“...Yes, I would,” You said, going to wrap your arms around him, but he pushed you away a little. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, kneeling down on the ground and looking up to you as he opened the box up to reveal a ring.

Tears welled up in your eyes, a few slipping down, a smile gracing your lips. You could tell that Sebek was nervous with how he had tears in his eyes as well.

“Y/N, I originally intended to serenade you with a poem that I had created for you, as well as lead you to a picnic date that I had assistance in assembling. However, it seems as though you know how to break me down and make me toss away any plans. Which is why I am asking you now. Will you marry me?”

A brief moment of silence took over… even the birds went quiet. Sebek’s heart was pounding against his ribcage, waiting for your answer. Then, you nodded your head, reaching your hand out to him as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

“I’m sorry I ruined your plans, darling,” You giggled through sobs, finally being able to wrap your arms around his neck as he stood up. His hands went to your waist.

“For you, I would gladly forsake every plan and itinerary just to be with you, for your presence is the most enchanting destination I could ever hope to reach,” The emotions were too much for you, so you just pulled him into a kiss, hoping to convey all those unsaid emotions. He seemed to get the message, leaning forward as he kissed you back to put you in a small dip.

Both of you were excited to see what fate had in store for you next.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #sebek #twst sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst sebek #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek zigvolt x reader #twst sebek x reader

219 notes · View notes

hqbaby · 4 months

Text

breakup vacation — iwaizumi x reader

⋆｡°⋆✩ acting like our hearts won’t be breaking you and your boyfriend decide to spend the night together. one last time.

word count. 2.4k content. [18+] angst, explicit sexual content (oral sex f!receiving, fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration, soft sad sex), cigarette use

“Here’s to us,” you say, taking your glass of champagne and raising it in toast.

Iwaizumi cracks a gentle smile and follows suit, raising his glass and clinking it against yours. “To us,” he says, “and the beginning of the end.”

You chuckle and take a sip of your drink. “The beginning of the end.”

The two of you sit in the middle of the restaurant, chatting away quietly and blending in with the rest of the couples in the room, like nothing is wrong.

You’re both dressed up, you in a dainty white dress and him in a crisp suit. On the outside, you look like you’re celebrating an anniversary (maybe even heading towards a proposal, if you’re lucky). On the outside, you look like the perfect couple, the kind that will last years, the kind that will weather all possible storms. On the outside, you look like everything between the two of you will work out, like everything will be just fine.

On the outside, it doesn’t look like the two of you are breaking up.

No one would believe you if you told them. You don’t even know if you’d believe yourself.

Over dinner, the two of you skip the loaded conversations. You pretend that Iwaizumi’s plane isn’t coming to take him in the morning, whisk him away to some place you’ve never even been. You pretend that your apartment—the one that you shared for four long years—isn’t sitting in the middle of the city, empty and waiting for the next perfect couple to fill its walls with love and warmth. You pretend that you aren’t visiting your parents next weekend, aren’t going to have to tell them that the boy they refer to as their “son-in-law” might be someone they never see again.

You dance around your problems. You hint at them occasionally, the things better left unsaid. You tease one another, joke around, but you never go deeper, never ask the bigger questions. You’ve done enough of that for the last three months.

When you’re through with dinner, the two of you head back to your hotel room and Iwaizumi has his lips on yours before the door is even closed.

“Haji,” you murmur against him, pressing yourself into his touch as his hands roam your body, the body he knows so well.

His fingers glide over the surface of your skin, ghost over the fabric of your dress. “I want this to be perfect,” he tells you when he pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours. His hand goes to the zipper of your dress. “Can I?”

You can’t help but laugh. After all this time, he’s the same boy you met in college all those years ago, the one who was always so careful around you, always thought you were too good for him, always tried to be what you deserved.

“Of course,” you tell him, giving him a quick peck before trailing your lips down his neck. You suck at the junction right before his collarbone as he drags your zipper down. You can hear his breathing grow heavy in anticipation.

Iwaizumi slides the straps of your dress down and places featherlight kisses across your shoulders. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You run a hand through his hair and guide him to look at you. “You’re not too bad yourself,” you say, smiling. You stare into his eyes for a moment, getting lost in the green of them, ignoring the terrible thought in the back of your head that tells you that you’re never going to look at his eyes this way ever again.

He kisses you again before you can let your thoughts swallow you whole.

His hands work to slide your dress off you, leaving you in nothing but lingerie. You remember when you picked out this particular set, when you dragged your entirely embarrassed boyfriend into a lingerie store at the mall and insisted he choose what he liked.

“I think you look great in anything,” he told you, keeping his eyes down as two women passed by, comparing the bras that they had selected. “I don’t really have much of an opinion on this.”

You held out the set you were looking at. “What about this one?”

He dared to look, gulping when his eyes landed on the black fabric, all intricately embroidered with tiny roses. The image of you wearing it flashed through his head and he stared back at the ground.

“I think we should go home.”

A laugh. “Are you hard right now?”

“Don’t say that out loud!”

Iwaizumi leads you to the bed, laying you down and crawling until he’s right between your legs. He glances up at you, corners of his lips quirking upwards before he slides your panties down and kisses your thighs.

You pant as his lips get closer and closer to where you want him, until he places a kiss on your clit and you let out a moan.

“Gonna make this perfect,” he tells you before diving in, his tongue coming out to slide between your folds.

“H-Haji,” you whimper, moaning as he alternates between sucking your clit and licking your cunt. He’s done this a million times before, but you can never seem to get enough of it. He could do this forever and you wouldn’t mind.

But you won’t have forever to spend with him.

You savor every second of this, every time he drags his tongue through your slick pussy, every time he prods and presses against your clit, every time he stops to place a kiss on your inner thigh. You try to remember the way he makes every part of you tingle, the way he brings you closer and closer to your high.

He slides a finger into you and you arch your back and grab his hair.

“Fuck!” You moan. “Right there, Haji, right there.”

“Here?” he says against your weeping cunt and he curls his finger, making you see stars at his touch.

The coil in your stomach grows impossibly tight and your grip on his hair grows stronger. He groans against you as he licks and sucks at your pussy, drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

You let out a sinful moan. “I’m coming, Haji!” you scream as you feel yourself come undone on his tongue.

He continues to lap at your cunt as you ride out your high, legs shaking as the pleasure overwhelms you. “So sweet,” he says. “So perfect.”

When you come down from your high, you sit up and pull his face towards yours, kissing him deeply. His tongue slides into your mouth and you moan when you taste yourself on him.

Hastily, you start to unbuckle his pants, pushing his belt aside and unzipping his fly. “Need you inside me,” you tell him, the ache in your core growing again.

He chuckles and helps you pull his pants down. “Always so impatient,” he says, pumping his length in his hands. He lays you back down and presses a kiss to your cheek, teasing your entrance with his tip. “You ready, sweet thing?”

You nod, hands already coming to grip the sheets. No matter how many times you’ve done this, you always know to brace yourself.

Iwaizumi slides his length into you, filling you up in a way that’s so familiar, so normal and yet always so intense. He bottoms out and you feel his tip press against your cervix.

You throw your head back and let out a moan, hands coming to grab his back.

He starts to move, slow but deep and hard. You can feel his length glide through your walls, your slick coating him and forming a white ring at the base of his cock. You dig your nails into his skin and you hear him groan as he starts to move impossibly deeper.

“So fucking good.” He hisses as you clench around him. He presses his forehead against yours and you find yourself staring straight at him, his eyes boring into yours. “I love you.”

The words hit you like acid.

What if no one ever loves you again?

You feel a tear slip from your eye and you smile up at him. “I love you too,” you tell him. He hits a particularly delicious spot inside you and your hand flies to the nape of his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. “I love you so much.”

You watch as his eyes start to well up too, tears sliding from his cheek to yours. “I love you,” he says, his thrusts becoming erratic. He’s pounding into you now, his hands coming to hold your face as he drives into your sore cunt. “I love you so fucking much.”

You can feel another orgasm building and you hold onto Iwaizumi for dear life. “I love you.”

Your orgasm washes over you and you can’t help but scream as your boyfriend chases his high, thrusting into you at a mind numbing pace.

“Fucking love you,” he groans, getting closer, “Gonna come!”

You moan as you feel the warmth of his cum fill you, the squelching sound between your legs loud and clear as Iwaizumi fucks you through his high.

After a moment, he collapses on top of you and holds your head to his chest. The two of you lie in silence as you cry, holding each other close.

It hits you that this is the last night you’ll ever spend together. When Iwaizumi leaves in the morning, there will be nothing left of the two of you. Nothing else to return to.

You mourn the life you could have lived. You cry for the people you will never be. You give yourselves this moment to grieve.

What else is there to do?

“What was your favorite part?”

You're both out on the balcony, passing a cigarette between the two of you. You’re both trying to stretch this moment out, make it last as long as possible. But the world continues to move beneath you. The lights from the city continue to flash. Life goes on, no matter how much you wish it would stop for just a moment.

“My favorite part?” you ask him, raising a brow. A harsh gust of wind hits you and you fight the urge to shiver. “Favorite part of what?”

Iwaizumi takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. “Of us.”

You hum thoughtfully, pulling the piece of clothing around you. “Coming home to you was always nice,” you tell him. “I remember calling my mom the first time I came home after we moved in together.” A smile finds its way to your lips. “I was so excited, so giddy. And I never stopped feeling that way. The thought of coming home to you always made me sick to my stomach in the best way possible.”

You catch him staring at you with that same awestruck look you’ve grown accustomed to. You think about how lucky you must be to have found someone who can make you feel like being loved so terribly, so immensely is normal. You’ve never wanted more from Iwaizumi, he always gave you more than you needed.

“What about you?” you ask, taking a drag of the cigarette. “What was your favorite part?”

You watch his face contort in deep thought, as if he’s scouring the recesses of his mind to find the moment, the point in time when he thought that what you two had was everything he wanted and more.

His face lights up. “When you asked for my pen.”

“What?” A laugh sputters out of you. “When was that?”

He shrugs, a little shy now. But he could never really be shy around you. “When we were in school,” he tells you. “And I went through that phase when I never had a pen on me. So I kept asking for yours.”

“We hardly knew each other back then.”

“Yeah, but it was still my favorite part.”

You bite the insides of your cheek to keep your smile from growing too wide. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” he tells you, grinning that boyish grin of his. “But you love it.”

You nod. “I do,” you say, your smile starting to crack as you feel the tears spring from your eyes again. “I really do.”

He leans over to cup your cheeks. “Hey, hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t cry. We’ve done enough crying.”

“I know,” you choke out, trying to keep your tears at bay. “It’s just…”

“I know.”

You move your hand to cup his. “I don’t think I’ll ever love someone as much as I love you,” you admit. “And I'm not even scared of never loving again… I’m scared of knowing that I won’t ever have you again.”

Iwaizumi kisses your forehead and lets his lips linger on your skin. “You don’t know that,” he tells you. “We might find each other again.”

Part of you wants to believe him, but part of you knows that—even if you do, by some miracle, find each other again—things will never be the same. You will never be the people that you are in this moment, the two people who love each other to the point of ache, the point of no return.

There’s no going back to this moment. There’s no chance that you’ll find your way back here again.

But he inches away from your forehead and stares at you with those eyes of his, silently pleading for you to disagree with the facts, to deny the truth. What’s the point of the truth now anyway?

“We might find each other again,” you say. “And we’ll be okay.”

Iwaizumi nods. “We’ll be okay.”

The bed is cold when you wake up. You stare at the empty space beside you for the longest time, blinking in the cold morning light, hardly believing that any of this is real, wondering how you’re even supposed to go on after this.

You don’t know how, but you manage to find the strength to sit up. Face the music.

You look around the empty hotel room. You note the space where Iwaizumi’s bags were just last night, note how they’re not there anymore. You try not to cry again.

How could someone go from being the love of your life to an absence you will forever try to fill?

You reach for your phone to check the time. You wish you hadn’t.

hajime: i love you. i always will.

notes. smut and angst 😌 my favorite combo 😌 i'm so happy to be back 😌

#hqbaby.fic #hqbaby #haikyuu #iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi smut

261 notes · View notes

fauustic · 11 months

Text

the fear of losing this

too many people in my inbox got a little too comfortable asking me for “a fight between reader” as well as “miguel angst please” so i am combining both as i struggle to get through this writer’s block ))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

angst. little comfort. your universe is falling apart, yet miguel doesn’t want to let you go.

warnings: pure angst. light cursing? i’m not too sure, just lots of tears.

word count: 2211

The night sky of Nueva York shined brightly with the bustle of commute, highly advanced cars whirring softly through the clouds. Your mask hung from your hands at your side, bunched up in the anger that fizzed and popped in your bloodstream– threatening to explode at any given moment as Miguel brushed off your conversation with a stoic chill.

“You don’t understand how important this is to me Miguel–” your voice raised as you paced the highest level of the building, padding against the overly complex structures that mimicked webs. You would have laughed at the irony of having a headquarters so invested in the theme of spiders that even the ground you walk on replicated the symmetry of webs if the both of you were in any other given situation– but that joking persona that came with the gig flew and crashed out the window the moment Miguel brushed off and rejected your plans to return back home. “I need to be there, helping my people. What is the point of me taking up a spot in this ‘fateful–’” You dragged out the words, venom dripping from your tongue as you partially made fun of the organization he spent so much time on. “Spider Society if my own boss doesn’t let me return back to the place I belong in?”

“No, no.” His tone was blunt as he stood as rigid as ever; surveying your every move in a way that you could never guess what he was thinking, with or without the mask. “You don’t understand.” Miguel repeated your own words back to you in a taunt as one of his clawed hands fidgeted with the device that decided whether or not you could walk around or stay in a little bubble for the next week just like all the other prisoners were down below. “You created a problem in your own universe, that’s the problem we’re having here. You cannot fix it.” He practically spat his words, anger emitting from every rhythmic clang whenever he tossed the technology into the air and caught it with calculation. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you’re from that Earth, you put that place you so valiantly ‘protect’ into a state of emergency. Is that not clear enough?”

“Oh, sure– but the hundreds of other spider-people that can’t go one word without making a joke of the situation can fix my mess? Am I just some inexperienced rookie to you, Miguel?” You countered, ripping your gaze from his own. His features were exposed to you as his mask was off as well, the sunken circles beneath his eyes growing prominent when a vibrant car passed by and shone a striking yellow light into the corridor the two of you stood within. His usual expression made of stone chipped away with the stress he was under as a deeper frown made its way onto his lips.

Miguel sighed dramatically before pinching the bridge of his nose, turning away from you to mumble a jumble of incoherency. “God,” He repeats your name like it's a curse, “That’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s just not safe.”

You scoffed, eyes growing wide at the audacity of this man you have to call your boss. “Of course it’s not safe Miguel, that’s our job.” You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, pulling at the roots of your hair in any attempt to calm yourself down. “I risked my life every single day in my universe before I even knew of your existence, yet now suddenly I can’t?”

“This is different. For some reason these– these anomalies are running rampant in your world and it’s taking everything to finally have the problem at hand contained.” Miguel held his breath as if he had something more to say, but left it unsaid the moment you stomped closer towards him in a new fit of anger.

You shoved your palm against his chest, baring your teeth as a groan erupted from the back of your throat in a concoction of frustration and despair. “Exactly! That’s exactly the problem, Miguel. My people out there are suffering and fighting for their lives, surrounded by these people that are like me but aren’t me.” Tears began to well up in the corners of your pained gaze, humiliation washing over your consciousness as you sniffled and stifled a sob. Fauxe confidence and quips were something you specialized in, annoying Miguel in a little dynamic the two of you found yourself in as months turned into an entire year of being called in for missions. Emotions were never a thing the both of you have ever discussed with one another because it wasn’t your position to pry and he was never the one to initiate such conversation.

“If you just let me go, I’m more than willing to show you how capable I am.” It came out as a whisper as you turned away from him and began padding down the structural webs. Miguel was on high alert, you could notice as every glance felt as if he was trying to convince himself that no other member of his society occupied this part of Headquarters. He followed you close behind, claws digging into the beams of construction to reach the same floor as you without a word. The brooding silence that usually met your company could be sensed from any person in their right mind, and as you spotted the hesitation in each thud of his footfalls– confusion clouded your anger. So in a flurry of adrenaline, you webbed his next step to the ground with a ball of the substance you artificially produced in the depths of your makeshift and cozy lab, hidden away at your home in the world you desperately needed to save. It would give you time to finally just talk to him.

“¿Eres estúpido o qué? Do that again and I’m putting you in the–”

It wasn’t to hold him down, you know you couldn’t match his strength. It was to make a statement.

You interrupted him, a newfound determination holding onto the little hope you had. “You follow me for one more second, I’m going through that portal and never looking back.” Brutally honest and uncharacteristically serious, the attempt at ripping his limb free was cut cold at the promise looming in the air. His frown fell for just a moment’s notice, mouth agape in shocked horror before quickly recovering himself. Repeating yourself more clearly as his attention was occupied, your body shined away while shaky fingers struggled to input the coordinates of your universe. But eventually it clicked, the AI voice of Miguel’s beloved Lyla sounded throughout the tension in a glitchy mess– notifying Miguel of the portal to-be seconds before it truly distorted the fabrication of reality in front of you.

Miguel dropped to his knees, struggling to claw off the web that had his foot planted to the structure. His breath quickened concerningly, shoulders heaving as the plan of his crumbled in front of him in an instant; all because he was not observant enough. You played him like an instrument like you always had, a pained groan from the back of his throat sounded and echoed throughout the space of the vast headquarters. “No, no, no..” He repeated, mirroring the despair you had on your features moments ago at the idea of not being able to save your people. You could never once recollect a fraction of a second where he allowed himself to convey the pain plaguing his mind, and as he reached out to you in a frantic heap of limbs– the walls of protection he hazardously built around himself came crumbling down by each shape contorting and twisting into a gateway to your world. “I can’t, I can’t lose anybody else–”

You stood there, heart breaking as the man who has had villains three times your size on their knees, collapse into fragments of himself at the mere idea of you leaving the security of his universe. Bursts of color painted the dark hues blotching upon white, igniting his fresh-tear stained cheeks in splashes of reds and yellows and greens. The portal was completely open, awaiting your entrance to return back to your familiarity– yet your senses buzzed alarmingly at each step away from Miguel. It’s almost as if you could feel the hole in his chest, searing away his soul he finally allowed himself to offer like a god’s offering.

You fell to your knees to hold his face in your suited hands, the waves of sorrow and grief infesting your mind like a sickness almost had you doubling over in pain. You could hear the cries of hundreds around his, no– your own heavy breathing, a confused and fearful little girl’s pleas for help overlapping the muddled screams. You felt the weight of a child in your hands before it was ripped away like a paper airplane in the wind, and soon your trembling hands met the purchase of his nape. Your body moved automatically, holding his face in the comfort of your lap while you shielded his gaze from the portal. Despite his power, the capability to snap you in two, you held him like a fragile doll that would break within any mishap.

“All this time, you never told me.” You sobbed into his hair, dampening his combed back curls with your tears and he only held your waist like you were the anchor in this unforgiving ocean of anguish. You have become one, the memories of his own mixing into the blur of yours's.

“I didn’t know how to.” He murmured into the purchase of your thigh, wetness seeping into your suit. But you didn’t care as your hands wandered all over his figure: a soft massage to the shoulders before quickly scooping his neck into your arms before finally settling on petting his hair back. “I, I haven’t allowed you to go to your world because a part of my thoughts can imagine your arms fading into a technicolor mess, falling into the clutches of another failed universe.” He forced himself to take a deep breath, gulping up air as the portal behind the both of you fizzled and popped.

“I can’t lose you too. I’d be so–” He hesitated, breathing in deeply just to choke on a sob. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He poured out the burdens weighing on his conscience, confirming your long-forgotten wonder that he was just as emotional when he was faced with his grief head-on; the same intensity seen in his short-tempered anger.

You simply hushed him, cooing reassurance that he accepted with greed. “Nothing is going to happen to me.” The rational fear being expressed aloud made your shoulders shake and head buzz with anxiety, but you steeled yourself at the reminder of Miguel melting into your tearful embrace like putty. You needed to be strong for him when he wasn’t, just like how he pushed himself to the greatest extent his body can endure all the times before.

“It’s just, I can’t lose where I come from.” You worked at ridding his foot from your webs as your serene tone accompanied his sniffles, his breathing settling out bit by bit as you continued to finally explain yourself. In regards to Miguel's quietness, you genuinely thought he was listening. “You can’t keep me away and shield me from my own mistakes, O’Hara. It’s just not possible, I need a home to thrive and protect. Without my people, I’m going to disappear as well.” A snap of your webs trapping his limbs finished your little speech, indicating that time was up and you had a job to do.

“I’m.. worried.” He mumbles aloud, like the sentence itself was foreign on his tongue. “These creatures from foreign worlds, they are drawn to your universe as if there’s a pulling force. I haven’t been able to figure it out. It’s so infuriating, it’s like I can’t do–”

You intercept his little tangent as you grab his chin and lift his gaze to meet yours’, an unsaid question hanging into the atmosphere like an old letter to a former self. Do you want this? Is this okay? I’m scared of messing this up.

The question is answered as Miguel’s grasp finds purchase in your flesh, claws digging into your thighs like if he let you go you’d fade along with everything else of his. In a messy, salty clash of teeth against fangs and tongue against lips, Miguel lapped up every inch of your mouth like he had to memorize every crevice of your entire being. It’s as if the two of you have synchronized, being able to suspect slight changes in each other’s mood as he grew more needy with the introduction of desire bubbling against the forefront of your mind.

“We can do this.” You murmured into his cheek, hands dancing over his suit in case this was the last time you’d ever be blessed with his presence again.

Miguel nodded, heaving for breath before he snatched one last kiss– sincere and genuine and full of unfiltered affection. “Yeah,” His nose met the crook of your neck, grazing each curve it stumbled upon.

“Together, mi alma.”

461 notes · View notes

kalims · 2 years

Text

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "do I like you? is that even a question?"

you like me, don't you?

heartslabyul : savanaclaw : octavinelle : scarabia : pomefiore : ignihyde : diasomnia :

"w-well, you say it like it's a bad thing." azul says. his sentence comes out rocky at first, he curses himself for letting a stutter squeeze through but he can't really blame himself when you took him by suprise.

he neither acknowledges your words or denies it. a smart move, he can just say 'i never said I did.' if you just so happened to react negatively and taking your words into opportunity it's as if he already has it in the bag.

sure he's nervous. somehow he can feel his palms grow clammy from the way his glasses seems way too slipper in between his finger and his old habit of unconsciously fixing himself up starts to happen.

but all he can hear is his heart hammering so loud that it actually sends shiver down his spine. the beat vibrates throughout his body, singing a hopeful song.

it's funny how much exactly he gambled through your words alone. this was a great opportunity he absolutely will not miss. certainly better than letting his feelings go unsaid, he never really did plan to confess but oh well.

you smile and he feels like he just found a jewel lost in a sea, a jackpot. "oh really?"

—

"fufu,,, would you like that?"

jade is cruel though it was already evident the earlier times you've come across him with your friends, wearing the same polite smile everyday. you remember the time your mind quite literally focused all it's attention on his teeth when he grinned, they always say dangerous things are the most prettiest.

somehow your mind completely ignored the fact that there's a twisted pleasure in his grin when he witnesses someone in visible agony or pain. of course, you cant literally sense that kind of thing. to your standards atleast but you wouldn't be suprised if there's some kind of spell for it.

but you just knew, and if there's anything jade likes more than pain decorated cruelly on others it's probably toying with other people and you're 50% sure he is with you, right now. first he'll get your hopes up and crush it with a few words, all pampering and sweet then cold the next second.

despite of hanging out with him with the free times you sometimes posses. you still don't know how to get out without being hurt. "hmm... maybe, but do you like me?"

just answer with neither yes or no, that's the best thing you could come up with right now. something made up last minute but you suppose it works.

you're—

"of course." he smiles, it seems a little less menacing than his usual one. "what's there to not like?"

—

if jade was that kind of guy you'd be intimidated at from his quietness alone, it's sort of cold, certainly having an off feeling to it. the way he talks, stands or even looks at you. then floyd would be the one you'd be intimidated at from the way he's able to spout concerning things so casual and brightly, and then transitioning to an actual dark tone so quickly.

'crush you to death' you as well misunderstood it as literally until he just hugged you.

—very tightly at that. you suppose he just has an interesting way of wording things.

"of course I do!" floyd replies happily. squeezing you tighter by sheer joy each passing second, you don't know if you should cry from the restriction of proper oxygen or cheer at his scary cuteness.

you choose the choice to live. "hey can yo—"

what the hell was that ace?

"what's this lovey dovey stuff? 'I like you too you know'." ace cuts you off and his interference alone had floyds grip already slipping, then the words register and he's hugging you tighter again.

are you shitting me. you think, obviously the male was joking cause he even forced his voice to sound deeper, akin to floyd's which makes you think that the boy is trying to match up their tone. it was meant to be lighthearted and mocking but you think that it completely flies over floyd's head.

ace realizes his mistake too late when the tall, big, scary, eel man's face takes a turn for the scariest. "hey.. you wanna get beat up?"

"hey man I was joking—"

you learn that floyd won't really care if someone's joking or not because he will chase them, going from intimidatingly scary to more pleased to witness the change in their expression.

ace tells you to not go near him with floyd in tow anymore the next day.

3K notes · View notes

i-am-baechu · 9 months

Text

♡ Summary: “Only thing that keeps us apart is a different timezone...” Yoongi loves touring and seeing his fans but he misses Y/N. There was this unsaid thing between them whenever he went on tour but that didn’t mean it was okay for him. He just missed her so damn much.

♡ Pairing: Established relationship; Yoongi x reader

♡ Rating: Pg-14

♡ Genre: Fluff, romance, angst and a little spice

The screaming was fading out as Yoongi walked backstage with a wide smile on his face. With each step he took though, the smile faded away. It was a great night in LA and he should feel proud of himself but there was this feeling in his chest. He knew what this feeling was but he ignored it...if you don’t acknowledge it then it won’t become a reality, right? He opened the door and sat on his couch in his dressing room with a blank expression. How can emotions change so fast? He leaned back as his head hit the frame and his eyes were on the white paint. He continued to stare until he heard his phone buzzing on the table.

He got up and looked down to see the ID. A smile appeared as he accepted the call, “Hey babe. Isn’t it time for your nap?”

“I should but how could I sleep? I wanted to see my rapper boyfriend kill it at his concert.”

He let out a small chuckle and sat back on the couch with his eyes back on the white paint, “You’ve seen it live. Isn’t that enough? You don’t have to see every concert.”

“Shut up, yes I do.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“I was getting ready to go out with Joon. He wanted to do a hiking trail and I wanted new pictures.”

He let out a small sigh and rubbed his forehead, “Please be careful. The last time you went you twisted your ankle.”

“Babe, I’ll be fine. You must be so tired.”

“I feel okay. I'm a little tired but it's better than yesterday.”

“Oh, Namjoon just came in. Do you want to say hi to him?”

Yoongi let out a small chuckle and got up from the couch with his hand in his pocket, “No, I talk to him all the time. You go have fun, text me when you get there.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“Baby, different time zones. I’m just going to crash when I get to the hotel to be honest.”

“Okay...I miss you so much. I love you.”

“I miss and love you more. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Love you, bye~.”

When the line went dead, he kept the phone next to his ear for a few more minutes. He missed her voice and just everything about her. It was really hard, especially on days like this. He put his phone in his pocket and let out a small groan, “Fucking hell.” There was a knock at the door and he didn’t move from his spot, “Come in.”

The door opened and it was one of his security guards, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah...I am.”

The ride back to his hotel was silent with the radio playing at a low volume. He was staring outside the window and was watching the stars follow him. He couldn’t help but smile when he remembered his first date with Y/N.

Y/N and Yoongi have been friends for years. They met in highschool and kept in touch when he became a member of Bts. He had a crush on her during school but he never said anything to her because deep inside, he knew she would never like him. She would pinch his cheeks and call him cute, that was a clear sign that he was only a friend. He was busy with music and she was busy with her programming job. It wasn’t the right moment.

It was three years ago when he finally asked her out. It was by accident(ish?). He was leaving his studio to go to the practice room after Hoseok texted him multiple times to hurry up. He entered the room and he was stumped with a loud laugh. He looked around the corner to see Y/N leaning her head against Taehyung as she laughed at what he presumed to be a joke. Y/N was close with all the members and there were some moments that made him mad. When Jungkook would hold her hand at random times, Jin cooking with her, Jimin taking her out to eat, Taehyung making her laugh more than anyone else, Namjoon taking her on hikes and Hoseok teaching her dance moves. They spent so much time with her and that made him happy but boy did it annoy him.

Y/N looked up and waved at him. She got up from the floor and ran up to him with a small smile, “Yoongi, you didn’t text me today.”

“Sorry, I was working on a song.”

“You're always working...I wanted to go out with you.”

He raised his eyebrow and glanced at Jimin who was talking to Taehyung. He glanced back at her with a frown, “You always go out with Jimin.”

“I missed you.”

He felt his heart stop and his intrusive thoughts took over in the moment, “If you were my girlfriend then you can just be with me 24/7.”

Her eyes widened at this and stared at him, “Girl-Girlfriend?”

“Fuck, I said that outloud.”

“Yoongi, please tell me if that's true.”

He looked away from her longing eyes and sighed, “If it’s true...what would you say?”

“I would say I want you to be my boyfriend.”

Yoongi whipped his head back and it was his turn to look at her with wide eyes, “Wh-What?”

“I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very...”

He grabbed her wrist and waved at the members, “I’ll be back.”

Namjoon raised his eyebrow and put his bottle back on the floor, “Where are you going?”

“Taking my girlfriend on a date.”

He left the room before he could hear their responses. Y/N was walking behind him with a smile as she intertwined their fingers together as he kept looking forward. They sat at a private part of the park as they looked up to see the stars on full display. She looked at him with a small smile, “How long have you liked me?”

“Since highschool...”

Her eyes widened at this, “Really?”

He felt his face get hot as he looked away from her, “Yeah.”

She gently turned her head to have him look at her. She kissed the tip of his nose and let out a small laugh, “Min Yoongi, I've liked you since I met you.”

Yoongi looked at her and let out a laugh, “So, I was just being an idiot.”

“We both are.”

He gently cupped her face making her look at him with a nervous glint. He leaned forward and she did the same. Before he put his lips on hers, he opened his eyes to take a final glance. Her eyes closed and her face flushed, it was a sight he will remember. He leaned in to close the distance between them and he finally felt her soft lips. He turned his head and she gladly accepted his tongue. Their tongues fought for what felt like hours and he brought her into his lap. He brought his hands on her ass to bring her more but she leaned away with a red face and lips shining away, “How can you be so shameless? We're in public.”

He rolled his eyes and started kissing her neck as she let out a small moan, “I finally got you. You think I give a fuck what others think.”

“Yo-Yoongi!”

He groped her ass to make her grind against him, “Should we go back to my place so I can show you how much I like you.”

“Yeah, you should. I don’t want someone seeing us.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

Yoongi entered his hotel and threw himself on the bed. He stared at the white paint and let a small smile appear, “I’ll see you soon...soon.”

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts hoseok #Bts #yoongi x reader #bts yoongi x reader #Spotify

305 notes · View notes

sweetkpopmusings · 1 year

Text

vernon boyfriend headcanons <3

a/n: i wasn't planning on posting his so soon, but i had a wonderfully cute dream of vernon the night before last, so i couldn't resist !! i carry a keychain with pictures of vernon in it. the keychain also includes charms that spell out "sweet boy" because that's what he is. a sweet boy <;3333333 pics not mine !

content: fluff | wc: 1.3k | warnings: none! | pairing: boyfriend!vernon x gn!reader | requests: open

vernon ! hansol ! love of my life ! light of my world ! sweet baby boy ! no words are enough for you but i will write over a thousand here to showcase just how lovely you are <33333

alrighty folks we've got a silly little guy on our hands!!! who also loves so deeply it takes your breath away

he reminds me of the first flutters of butterflies in your stomach

or the first time you feel lightning bolts in your fingertips as you accidentally brush against someone you're starting to feel something more towards

he is the king of small shy smiles

before you two get together, you are the one who smiles shyly at everything he does because he's so gentle, so sweet, and so lighthearted

he's never trying to hide that he likes you, and it almost goes entirely unsaid because he simply makes you feel so wonderful you just know there's something there between you too

after you two are together, this boy almost always replies to your compliments, looks, and touches with a small, shy smile

and probably a lil chuckle too because he just doesn't know how to process how cute you are and how wonderful you make him feel !!!

he is so earnest with you

even when he's joking around with you, every word he says is full of love and care

if he's sending you funny pictures and memes, you can feel the thought behind it all because it's just so you, so vernon

like he's curating everything he gives you to what he knows and loves about you

he's so thoughtful that knowing you becomes pure instinct to him

you almost never have to explain yourself to him

because he gets it

my chest is bursting at the thought of this so i gotta switch to more cutesy stuff

he absolutely adores casual cuddling

one of his favorite cuddles is having your legs draped over his lap, your arm slung behind his neck, and your head resting against his shoulder while you watch tv

he also loves to be in that position on your lap when he's sleepy because he can doze off against your shoulder and tuck his head in the crook of your neck if the lights are too bright even after he shuts his eyes :-(

vernon's also obsessed with lying his head on your chest when you're in bed so he can listen to your heartbeat

that is his absolute FAVORITE position to take naps in. he also gets extremely soft when you lie with your head on his chest

inside he is trying to calm his heartbeat down so it's actually relaxing for you because no matter how long you've been together his heart races whenever you're near him because he loves you so much

little does he know that you absolutely love his heartbeat and feel so safe and warm even when it's racing because it's so cute that he's still excited whenever you're around

another top cuddling style in bed for vernon is when y'all are spooning (he's happy to be the big or little spoon <3) and you're softly wrapped around each other while scrolling on your phones or sleepily chatting

sharing music is one of his love languages, so he finds it so intimate to lie on the living room floor together, pillows or couch cushions under your heads, and listening to music

he has a playlist specifically for that and he's always adding to it because he's always thinking of music he wants to share and experience with you

despite being so overwhelmed with how much he loves you, he's also so clueless

he can do the hottest thing in the world and you're blushing and entirely stunned and he's just looks at you with a furrowed brow and a tilted head

he's standing there like ???? you good ???? meanwhile you're standing there like *dial-up noises*

he will also do the SWEETEST things

like you'll be talking about your day while eating food and then he'll mention something you said months ago and say "i was thinking about that story you told me about your favorite childhood toy, and it actually matches who you are so well, even now because..." and he'll explain himself by connecting little things he notices about you now that relate to that toy

you've completely stopped eating, your jaw is on the floor, and you can't believe that he not only remembered something you talked about briefly months ago but thought about it on his own in such depth that he had a whole tedtalk about it

once again he has unintentionally broken your brain but has no idea why you're reacting like that because he's just acting in a way that comes naturally to him

another thing that comes naturally to him is sharing clothes

he always takes pieces of your style and incorporates it into his fashion because he likes being reminded of you wherever he goes

sometimes he'll ask you if he can borrow a pair of sunglasses you have, or he'll ask you where you got a pair of pants

at first you don't realize what he's doing, but one day he shows up in an outfit you've worn before and you joke about him turning into you

he smiles and says "i like it when my clothes remind me of you"

heart = melted

that's how you both start combining your wardrobes and tastes

even if they're entirely opposite each other, there will always be things you exchange to blend together your styles

vernon loves this because it reflects how you two have blended your lives together <3

eventually you have matching couple outfits, but it's entirely unintentional LOL

sometimes vernon will have a strange outfit on, but seventeen knows better than to make fun of anything he wears of yours / in your style

the one time seungkwan made fun of a hat vernon borrowed from you, vernon gave seungkwan a look that had him begging for his life

no one knew vernon could be so scary but that's just how fiercely he adores you and your individuality <3

he is such a fierce supporter of you living the life you want and in the way you want

he thinks any dreams or goals you have are attainable and he will support you in every way possible

he also will validate you constantly. if you're feeling insecure, he will listen to you and tell you that he understands what it feels like to have those thoughts. he then follows that by reminding you of everything he loves about you and how he truly thinks you are the most interesting and amazing person in the world

he may be scared to show his deepest fears/insecurities, but, with you, it's different

when he gets to know your mind so deeply, he wants you to know his in the same way

he cherishes that kind of emotional and intellectual intimacy between you two like nothing else

in less serious ways, he shows this by creating a world for just the two of you

you've got your own languages of facial expressions, gestures, phrases, and even pictures/gifs/emojis

not only can you two communicate with the slightest of facial expressions, you become so in tune with each other's body languages that you know how the other is feeling immediately

if he sees you get uncomfortable by the slightest of shifts in your body/energy, he'll give you a reassuring look that tells you he's ready to leave if you are

i see him as the type of guy to communicate through hand squeezes too :,-)

if you're in a group and he thinks something you said is super funny, he'll laugh really hard and then lightly squeeze your hand to tell you just how tickled pink he is

he will do the same thing if he needs you for something

if he's anxious or overwhelmed, he will naturally search for your hand and you'll know by the feel of it that he needs to be held in some way

so you just intertwine your fingers and give him a tight squeeze that says i'm here

and he feels completely safe again :-(

i'm screaming into my pillow goodbye i love vernon so much

truly vernon loves you so so genuinely and authentically that you can never doubt it. he thinks you are a precious gift in his life and he cherishes you beyond belief

i hope everyone gets the vernon they deserve <3

747 notes · View notes

nhlclover · 1 year

Text

fearless | trevor zegras

word count: 0.97k

summary: your first date with trevor might end up changing your life for the better

warnings: making out

notes: this man is soooo 1989 (tv) coded. another installment of my tswift song plots. based on fearless by taylor swift.

The lights in the theatre come on as the credits of the movie begin to roll on the screen. I stand up alongside Trevor, my legs feeling slightly wobbly after sitting for almost 3 hours.

“What’d you think of the movie?” Trevor asked me. I contemplate telling Trevor my true thoughts about the movie he picked for us to see.

A while ago, Trevor had approached me at the grocery store as I was picking out a carton of eggs. He told me he thought I was pretty and wanted to know if I would go out on a date with him. I had never seen someone so bold. So I said yes. He offered up going to the movies and I agreed. Since he was paying for my ticket, he picked the movie, which ended up being some movie starring Nicholas Cage.

“It was…” I falter.

“It was bad, right?” He asks.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” I laugh, following him out of our theatre. “It was really, really bad.”

“That’s my bad. You probably shouldn’t have let me pick the movie.” He laughs.

There's something 'bout the way The street looks when it's just rained There's a glow off the pavement, you walk me to the car And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there In the middle of the parking lot

We exit to the parking lot, the lamps causing the pavement glowing from the recent rain. Trevor slyly slips his hand into my mine as we walk to his car. I smile at the gesture. The parking lot is close to empty as we saw the movie at a late showing. I almost consider asking Trevor to dance in the middle of the parking lot but don’t. It's only our first date after all.

I get in the passenger seat while he gets in the drivers seat, starting up the car. “I have somewhere I want to take you.” Trevor tells me. “If you’re up for it.”

I don't want this date to end just yet, enjoying the presence of Trevor so much, so I agree.

We're driving down the road, I wonder if you know I'm trying so hard not to get caught up now But you're just so cool, run your hands through your hair Absentmindedly making me want you

He pulls out of the parking lot, handing me his phone and telling me to pick out the music. I put on some country music which Trevor approves of by cranking the volume and lowering the windows. We sing along to Luke Combs as we speed down the empty streets. I glance over at Trevor as he runs a hand through his dark blonde hair, tousling it. The action is innocent for him, but for me it sends a flurry of butterflies into flight, making me want him even more.

We finally come to a dead end up atop a hill, Trevor pulling onto the side. He perfectly positions the car so that we can see through a clearing of trees out into the city of Anaheim. “Wow.” I breathe out.

So, baby, drive slow 'til we run out of road In this one-horse town, I wanna stay right here In this passenger's seat You put your eyes on me In this moment now, capture it, remember it

“I know right.” He smiles. “This view never fails to take my breath away.”

“I bet you take all your girls out here.” I joke.

Trevor doesn’t laugh, but smiles softly. “No, actually. Just you.” He says as if coming to a realization. I examine his soft expression, taking a mental polaroid of him in that moment. His touseled hair falling perfectly into place, and his chain disappearing underneath his white shirt.

Trevor looks as though he wants to say something, his lips slightly parted as he looks at me. “It’s late. I should take you home.” He says finally, although not what I wanted to hear. I nod anyways as he starts back up the car.

The music starts up again, but this time we’re no longer singing. It feels as though something up on that hill was left unsaid. I spend the drive home wondering whether or not Trevor will kiss me when he drops me off. If he kisses me, then its a sign the date went well and he wants to see me again. However, if he doesn’t, it means he didn’t enjoy the date and the connection I felt the whole night was simply one-sided.

Well, you stood there with me in the doorway My hands shake, I'm not usually this way but You pull me in and I'm a little more brave It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really something It's fearless

When he pulls into my driveway, he gets out, opening the car door for me and walking me up to my door.

“Thank you for such an amazing date.” I say, genuinely to Trevor. “And thank you for showing me that amazing view.” I look down at my hands which are shaking as I anticipate his next move.

Suddenly, I feel his hand under my chin, lifting it so I’m looking into his eyes. He drops his hands to my hips, softly pulling me in. When I recognize what’s happening, I finish his actions, leaning up to him and pressing my lips to his. He is soft at first but recognizes my urgency and deepens the kiss. He hooks his fingers into my belt loops, pulling my hips into his. My arms are attached around his neck drawing him down to match my height. We both seem to gasp for air when we separate.

“I’ll call you when I get home.” He whispers to me. He presses another kiss to my lips before returning to his car, leaving me reeling from the kiss on my front porch.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #nhl imagine #nhl #anaheim ducks #hockey #luvzegras

541 notes · View notes

astroidology · 2 years

Text

some random astrology things ive noticed recently. (synastry & compatibility)

Sagittarius & aquarius, pisces & libra, leo & capricorn , cancer & taurus , gemini & aries , scorpio & virgo. Usually get along the best, you dont notice right away but have lots of things in common.

Moon in aquarius are actually very chill and very open minded. They can become friends with anyone really but only allow few people get too close. They rarely show any negative emotion so you may think that they just dont ever feel bad. You'd mostly find them with a blank facial expression, as if they were not there, which makes them really hard to read at times. They do have an ego tho, even more than leo moons, because they know how to deal with their emotions and are great at separating personal life from everything else.

Moon in gemini have a very child like energy just like sagittarius and aries, but they're a lot more introverted than one would think. Really important to talk about is how witty and smart these people are, literally mind blowing. They catch on things fast. They enjoy learning and once they know you're listening, they can talk for hours. Also they are true empaths just as much as pisces moons, if they care about you, they'll be careful with their words or just stay quiet to not make you feel bad.

Is not that venus in aries falls in love quickly, is more that they mistake the feeling of attraction with love. So they can say that they love you within the first 2 days you were meeting and it wouldnt be a lie per say because thats how they feel it, but then that feeling goes away on the 3rd day and they're gone. They do like challenges but also would not be with someone that is not interested in them because they need the constant validation, and if it's rejection after rejection, they stop chasing.

Now venus in libra does fall in love quickly because they tend to idealize a lot. So they fall in love with ideas instead of actions. Have such high unsaid expectations that are almost impossible for anyone to reach. And its always them thinking they'll never find another person that makes them feel loved after every break up and then they heal and fall in love again and break up and so on... also, they tend to stay in toxic relationships and they rarely break up relationships at all.

When someone's mars fall in your 2nd house, they'll like your voice or something related to how you pronounce certain words or somthing but they'll notice it and usually let u know for sure,,,,

Having venus-mars synastry with someone such as conjunction & trines (especially fire signs) will make you compliment each other a lot and it wont feel weird at all, it flows naturally, almost like it's part of the convo.

Taurus suns are really easy to spot because you'd find them having the same routine every day, they rarely try different things bc they just get used to it and are honestly very chill about everything too. They dont be talking too much or too loud but when they do, you know it's the truth, or at least their truth. They're also very blunt in how they communicate and does not take anyone's sht. If they dont like you, they'll let you know. Now if they do like you, they be all giggly and joking around. As long as u dont mess with their food or eating schedule, you should be good. Also, do not joke around too much cuz they may get offended or annoyed. If they have a bad day then everyone must have a bad day too lol jk they do have a strong aura to them and its just very easy to read them even tho they dont express too much.

Having 8th house synastry overlays (moon, venus, mars in your 8th house) are usually felt more by the house person. A little too much more id say. Unless u have synastry within your personal planets as well then the planet person would get to feel it too, but when it comes to that always pay attention to degrees, the closest the better. But yea it does feel kinda like obsession and its either your lovers or enemies, you too scared of opening up yet you feel like the other person can already read you like a book. And any interactions that you had with this person, you'll remember vividly. Jealousy and alot of possessiveness too. Honestly everything is felt way too much.

2K notes · View notes

jasonsmirrorball · 7 months

Text

THINGS WE LEFT UNSAID JASON TODD

↳ patching him up and all that passes, unsaid

This is an old song and dance, you know it well.

The creak of your living room window draws you from your dreams, sleep bursting like a bubble with the first rattle of the windowpane. You are asleep, and then you are not, so swiftly carried between realms you can barely register it. You lie in bed, staring through bleary eyes at the ceiling as the sounds of your monthly late night visitor filters through the walls.

A muffled thud of boots knocking against the window sill. There’ll be dirt there in the morning, a size 13 boot print that’ll return a month after you wipe it away. Glass rattles, and you know he’s hit his shoulder–clumsy, tonight, but there’s no shatter. It’s bad, but you’ve borne worse.

A grumble of your name is your cue, and you slip from the sheets. Summer air filters in through the open window when you enter, a thick, stifling heat that clouds around your skin, smoke and rain and chemical scented.

You reach for the first aid kit, kept on a side table in the hallway, and move to close the window first. The lump on your couch breathes through his mouth in shallow pants, almost drowned out by the sound of traffic below–even after midnight, this part of the city is loathe to rest, high pitched laughter and squeals of amusement raising up above the fog.

“Did I wake you?”

You shrug, taking a seat on the coffee table. Jason’s knee brushes against yours, and you ignore it in favour of setting the kit by your side.

“It’s fine. Shirt off, please.”

On good nights, he meets you with a poorly delivered “Buy me dinner, first.” Tonight, he’s silent, and you can feel your chest tighten when he grimaces trying to lift his arm. There’s a dark liquid seeping through the fabric and you can smell the gunmetal on him.

You’ve borne worse.

He’s been in worse shape.

But still your eyes grow hot when you lean to assist him and the smell of copper settles on your tongue. There is so much red, smeared along the curve of his bicep, and your hands shake when you reach for the cloth tucked in the kit, standing to wet it in the sink. Your legs feel weak beneath you, a constant threat to give under you with every step between the couch and the sink.

The towel is no longer as it had been when you’d first bought it, alabaster replaced by an off white from the frequent washes. A speck of brown from where you could never quite get the blood to wash off remains on its care tag, staining the black lettering.

The wound has mostly stopped bleeding, you figure out once you look past all the blood, but you hold it there anyway, taking your seat on the edge of the table once more. Your eyes follow the slow way it stains, red seeping into the fabric in a slow diffusion.

“You hurt anywhere else?” your voice is raspy, and you don’t meet his eyes when you ask.

“Just a few scrapes,” he rumbles. His fingers twitch in your peripheral vision, tapping against his thigh anxiously. “Pretty much healed already.”

You nod, biting your tongue as you lift the cloth.

“This should be fine, soon,” you manage to string together, adding an unsure, “I think. Could be worse.”

He breathes out a tired sigh. “Lucky I’ve got you to stitch me up.”

You don’t know what it is, only that one moment you’re dabbing away the blood and the next you’re snapping at him. Maybe it’s something in his tone, weary and yet still teasing–does he not understand the gravity of the situation? Your fingers are stained with his blood.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just stop being so reckless,” you snap, and he stills under you when you meet his eyes, angry heat flooding your face as everything you’ve kept under a lid comes rushing to the surface.

“Would it kill you to take a second to think before you act?” you ream him out as you reach for the ointment. “This isn’t a joke you know?”

You know it’s over when your breath stutters, a hitch in the quiet of your apartment that sounds too loud to your ears for your liking, too much like a sob. Jason stays silent, and you find yourself loathing the look in his eyes, teal softened around the edges, bearing the brunt of your anger.

The both of you are aware this isn’t a result of carelessness. Jason hasn’t been reckless in years–his anger is a cold, calculated thing, burning low and steady but never uncontrolled. You wish you were so measured.

You can’t stop yourself from bleeding out alongside him, words like knives thrown from your lips as you grow more and more worked up. Your eyes burn, your hands shake, the bandage trembling between your fingers as you wrap it around his arm.

He doesn’t say a word through it all, only watching you with eyes too knowing, fingertips a whisper away from your bare knees but never touching. You don’t know what you’d do if he did.

When the last of it is done and all that’s left is the bloody cloth on your coffee table, you swallow down the words you’ve left unsaid and nod at him.

“Couch is yours, if you want it,” you offer hoarsely, standing. You don’t look at him as you return the kit to its rightful place, shame-faced and retreating. You’ve no bravery tonight, having shown too much of your hand.

“Yeah,” he sighs out.

The click of your bedroom door feels like the turn of a key, something of a mountainous wall erected between you and your living room.

In the morning all there’s left of him is the blood in your rug, two drops by the leg of your coffee table. You know they’ll be there when he returns again, just another mark he’s left behind that you won’t be able to remove.

i don't know. this popped into my head and i was just thinking about how hard it would be to have this relationship with him knowing the both of you can't ever be together but neither of you are willing to save yourselves the pain that comes with being in contact. just. all the things that you can never say

#jay my heart #jasonsmirrorball #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #x reader

126 notes · View notes