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frostyhelltime · 3 days

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Alastor Realizes He Has Feelings For You

Alastor x GN!Reader

AN: A lovely anon sent in a request for a few of the guys realizing they have feelings for the reader, and Alastor's got...so far away from me that I decided to give him his own post, and I'll link this in the ask I actually answer. I just had so much fun writing Alastor freaking the hell out once he realizes.

HERE is the link for the ask if anyone is curious to see this prompt with Lucifer or Vox.

Alastor

In order of which of the guys notices first, Alastor realizes it dead last.

Which makes sense. He had long thought himself incapable of such feelings toward someone. There had never been anyone he had felt that particular inclination towards before, so he assumes at first that what he has with you is just…a very intense friendship, almost like him and Rosie, just with some odd caveats.

Once he does realize he'll immediately go to Rosie for some advice since it's…clearly not his area of expertise.

He doesn't even notice it, someone else points it out to him.

He's in a piss poor mood as he goes about the hotel. He hasn't yet figured out it's because you've been too busy to see him for the past four days.

Until someone gets mad enough at him to talk back.

Alastor is sitting in the lobby, impatiently tapping his foot as he wallows and waits, sipping a glass of rye as Husk made a point to only come over to his side of the bar when it looked like he needed something.

Alastor was struggling, trying to figure out why his mood has been so sour these past few days. Things had been fine, delightful even! The hotel was taken care of, his broadcasts went well, why he even went for a nice stroll in Cannibal Town to visit Rosie. By all means a perfect few days.

So why was his patience for everything wearing oh so thin? He sighs a moment and makes a sound almost like a growl to himself as he tries to puzzle this out. This was so infuriatingly perplexing!

It isn't much longer until Angel Dust is so fed up with Alastor ruining the good mood of the bar as he tries to flirt with Husk that he actually addresses the Overlord.

“Look Smiles. Just because you're all sad ya lovely little lover has been too busy to even say hi the past few days, doesn't mean you've gotta take it out on us. I'm trying to hit on the barman but your pissy mood is killing it.” Angel says, throwing a hand up from the other side of the bar.

“Operative word here being try, not succeeding at.” Husk says dryly, closer to Angel’s side.

“Yeah yeah. You secretly adore me. Don't worry. I'll keep your secret.” Angel winks at him as Alastor tries to decipher what it is Angel just said.

“...Lover?” He asks, trying to clarify, tilting his head to the side. He's so flummoxed he even stops tapping his foot. He says it like someone sounding out a foreign word for the first time.

“...Are they not your lover?” Angel raises an eyebrow, putting his drink down a moment. “I mean the way you two act…I thought you were dating and just keeping it a secret.” Angel shrugs, and only then does it click Angel is talking about you. There's no one else in the hotel that he's consistently friendly enough with that that mistake could happen.

Once he figures it out he just cackles a moment, deep and loud, with his free hand over his stomach as he fails to contain his amusement.

“Oh my dear Angel, no!” He says, chuckling a little more before continuing, shaking his head. “They're just a very dear friend.” Alastor explains, waving off the idea. “Besides why would I be upset they haven't been around? I don't see Rosie every day and I'm perfectly fine.” He says, although he doesn't really need to explain himself to them anyway.

But it doesn't seem to convince Angel who just looks at him with skepticism.

“Surely you jest! What evidence have I possibly given to suggest they are more than a dear friend?” Alastor asks, sure Angel has nothing concrete.

“Well, for starters, they can touch you whenever and however they want. You let them in your personal bubble and you fucking hate people being in your personal bubble.” Angel begins to explain, holding a finger up.

“I'm the same way with Rosie, and Mimzy, to a degree.” Alastor shoots down that theory easily.

“You've been in an increasingly shit mood with a short fuse since they've been too busy to see you.” Angel tries again, holding up a second finger.

“Preposterous. I don't know why I'm in such a frustrated mood, but I assure you it isn't them. Perhaps I'm feeling a bit of cabin fever and need to spend more time out and about in the city…?” The last bit is mostly Alastor's own suggestion to himself. "Perhaps too much time in the hotel..?" He continues wondering aloud.

Angel just rolls his eyes and sighs, rubbing his forehead with a free hand a moment.

“You get them presents! And do things for them without ever asking for a deal!” Angel tries again, holding up a third finger, but Alastor just shakes his head.

“I won't deny I do that, but I fail to see the connection between that behavior and them supposedly being my lover.” Alastor shakes his head, finding Angel's arguments far too easy to poke holes into.

Angel thinks he's about to scream with how absolutely daft this guy was in regards to his emotions apparently.

“You let them in your radio station, even when you're broadcasting, have picnics in your freaky weird swamp thing in your room, smile so much brighter as soon as you catch sight of them! You obviously have a big fat crush on them!” Angel almost shouts, standing and throwing all four arms up in absolute and utter exasperation.

"Am I fucking crazy or what? I can't be the only one who sees this?!" Angel sighs heavily as he turns to Husk who shakes his head.

"I'm not getting involved in this." Is all Husk says, although he stays close to Angel, as if to protect him should something go wrong.

“...None of that is something you would only do with a lover and not a friend.” Is all Alastor says through his smile. Not a denial of any of those actions, he has done all of those things. But he still thinks Angel is jumping to some rather far fetched conclusions.

Husk just knows Angel is right, but knows there's no way of convincing the guy unless it hits him right in the face, and Husk knows something you feel over a crush that you don't with a friend.

Jealousy.

“I don't even know why you're bothering trying to set them up Angel. They already have a hot date this weekend anyway so what does it matter if he has a crush on them or not?” Husk says so casually, it comes across like it could only be true. He curses at himself in his head for saying he wouldn't get involved and then immediately doing so before Angel Dust could upset Alastor.

There's a loud pop of static that sounds off from Alastor's direction, and Husk thinks he's right on the edge of making him realize.

“No kiddin’? Man. That blows Smiles. Sorry.” Angel blinks, slumping a bit before sitting back down and drinking. “Huh. I wonder if that's why they asked me for outfit advice the other day? Said they really wanted to wow someone.” Angel taps his glass as he thinks, having absolutely no idea if Husk is lying, but playing along anyway.

“How’d they ask them out anyway?” Angel asks curiously, because if it's true he does want to know, and if it isn't he's sure the answer will rile Alastor up anyway.

“Some newbie sinner approached them while they were grabbing a snack from that bakery they like, and said something about having a crush on them and asked them out to some jazz show or something, I don't remember. They seemed pretty excited.” Husk says as he refills Angel's drink now. However Alastor's drink just shatters in his hand at this information and he just looks down in surprise.

He hadn't been holding it that tight, had he? He looks equally confused and irritated at the mess of glass and rye on the bar top and in his hands. But why was he upset? He was never upset whenever Rosie got a new husband. He couldn't actually be jealous could he? Just the very idea makes him want to scoff. He doesn't get jelaous. But the image of you on some date with some pathetic unworthy creature as you laughed at their jokes and leaned in closer, hand gently on their arm as you pressed your lips against thei-

He's standing up, letting out a deep breath to calm himself, clearly upset as he let his thoughts run away from him. He turns to look at the two there and sees them looking quite scared, and covering their ears. Oh. His static was exceptionally loud right now, wasn't it? He quickly fixes that and adjusts his jacket with tight hands. He doesn't even bother to think of an excuse as he melts into the shadows, appearing in the bog in his room, pacing rapidly.

“Surely…not?” He asks himself aloud as he paces amongst the trees, allowing himself to feel the full panic and upset now that he was behind closed doors. He's rubbing his chin as he thinks, trying to logically figure this out.

“Why do I care if they date someone?” He asks himself, gripping his head as if it hurts from trying to figure out this riddle. He thinks his head actually is starting to hurt, since the answer was beginning to dawn on him, and it was terrifyingly uncharted territory. “No, no. Impossible. I'm confused. Perhaps I'm ill?” He suggests, taking his hands down, bringing one hand up to feel his forehead.

“....That excuse sounds absolutely pathetic.” He grits out, fist swinging and demolishing a tree in his way. But it doesn't make him feel any better. Doesn't make him feel any more in control. The more he thinks about it the more he realizes that on the surface, his interactions with you and Rosie are a little different.

When he gets Rosie presents it's just a simple “Here you are dear! I thought of you!” And then they share a laugh as she thanks him. But when he gives you a present, he waits eagerly, eyes scrutinizing every aspect of your being as you open it. His posture is stiff but practiced as he awaits your reaction, only relaxing when he sees the ecstatic smile on your face as you begin to thank him.

He doesn't mind Rosie touching him, and in fact on some days actually quite enjoys it. But with you he wants it, moves instinctively towards your touch instead of away.

Fuck. That stupid spider was right, he realized with a swell of panic and fear at this new unknown variable.

He…loves you? It still didn't sound right, but the more he thought about it the more he realizes it could only unfortunately be true. When had you wrapped him around your little finger so tightly? And how hadn't he realized?!

He's even more upset now at how far gone he was on you without realizing. The radio demon has a weakness. Even just thinking the phrase makes the sensation of bile rise in his throat and he has to sit down a moment to collect himself again.

His entire body is stiff and agitated as he tries to come to terms with this. Until he hears a knock on his door.

“Alastor? Are you in there? It's me. Husk said you seemed like you were in a sour mood. So I thought I would come check on you. Can I come in?” Your voice rings through the door crystal clear and he sucks in a breath and pays attention to his reactions now.

His stiff muscles began to relax and soften, the frustration that was so unbearable he had begun tearing apart trees seemed so…distant now. Surely an over exaggeration to lose his cool like that. He sighs and looks down.

Angel had been right.

But…now that he knows…all he needs to do now is get you wrapped just as tightly around his finger as he was around yours. There is no danger of feeling jealousy or rejection or heartbreak or of him possibly being controlled by you or anything of the sort if he ensures you fall for him as splendidly as he has apparently fallen for you.

With that in mind he stands now, ready to face you with this new knowledge. He's dusting himself off and then opening his door, smiling at you in the typically charming way he knows had a tendency to make people swoon when he was alive, and even now in death. Just because he hadn't had an interest in dating didn't mean he didn't know how to charm someone.

“How kind to come check on me.” He drawls almost sweetly as he snatches your hand as gently as possible before bringing it to his lips, eyes half-lidded as he peers at you, studying your expression. He feels confident from the sound of the slight intake of your breath and the small flush of red dusting your cheeks that he very well still has a chance to edge out any competition for your affections.

“Well now my dear I'm in a much less sour mood now that I have such exquisite company. If you're not too tired I would love to know what's captured your time so much these past few days. Come on in.” His smile is charming, a predator seeming to eye his unaware prey as he opens the door further to let you in, your eager smile mollifying him for the moment.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor

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laiostouden · 19 hours

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laios and shuro's relationship is so important to me it's not funny anymore... the fact shuro kept believing in laios during the latter part of the manga, then searched for him after laios became a monster and defeated the winged lion- although it was unclear what exactly had become of him- is haunting me because of how it contrasts with him choosing to give up on saving falin after he saw her as a chimera. like, laios was so sure that their fight in chapter 38 was the end of their friendship while in reality it was the beginning of it in shuro's eyes. laios kept agonizing over losing the one friend he cared for the most but it's because he didn't understand the significance of that little thing he kept carrying with him in every step until the very end of the series: the bell.

shuro gave him that bell as a token of his trust in him and his love: "we grew apart and i'm no longer fit for the position by your side, but no matter how far you go, i'll be there for you when you need me". their conflict over how to deal with falin forced them to go in different directions, but despite accepting leaving falin behind, shuro couldn't bring himself to abandon laios as well. and it's no coincidence that the bell shuro gave him was the proof that laios was still alive after all that happened, or that it's what pushed mithrun and kabru to go deeper into the dungeon instead of returning to the surface (which quite literally changed the entire chain of events afterwards).

yes, shuro decided to stop pursuing falin and report her condition to the governor so she could be stopped, even at the cost of her life. he gave up on her. but the same man also defied the canaries and fought for laios without knowing how messed up things had gotten because he chose to believe in laios above all else. and that, in my opinion, solidified just how important laios became to him- more than falin's, more than his own life, it's laios's he didn't give up on.

at the very end, when he met laios again after the latter defeated the winged lion, he gave him a hug filled with the pure, unrestrained joy of seeing his first and best friend on the island alive and well. hell, i mean, it's easy to forget that shuro didn't really have anyone close to him too- and laios might very well be the first person he was this disgustingly direct and truthful with since he was a child. and when he goes back home, there won't be anyone else like laios there; his home is still the same. it's him that changed. and later on when he will recall all those years he spent on the island, he will realize how surprising it is that all the crazy stuff he witnessed don't hold a candle to the impact those few people he befriended there had on him.

of course, laios didn't realize it until then- shuro's reaction was indeed the one that surprised him the most- but at that moment he could absolutely feel how foolish he was to be so sure he will be hated and rejected after everything they went through. it's so important that it was shuro who greeted him so affectionately, after we saw laios brooding over their fight so much: it's shuro's acceptance that he was longing for the most.

with all that being said, the one last thing that drives me crazy is that the bell laios was given to use when he needed assistance most was still with him even after turning back into his human form. that tiny item he was shown to be quite careless with and yet never let go of until he wanted to be completely alone, thinking he should run away from everyone he loved; but it was too late, his friend already heard his cry for help.

and they all answered.

#😃😭😭😭😭#dungeon meshi #laios touden #toshiro nakamoto

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dira333 · 3 days

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Care too much - Tsukishima x Reader

If you ever dare to ask me about the lore behind this, better be prepared.

Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @fuzztacular @melfromwonderland @qardasngan @xangel-8 @lemurzsquad

“Toss to me Senpai?” Hinata’s voice cuts through the usual after-training chatter like a hot knife through butter. Tsukishima wishes for his headphones, but those are out of reach.

“Your enthusiasm is admirable, Hinata-” Ennoshita starts, clearly trying to help.

“I’d love to,” you say, “but we have to keep the others in mind. Surely everyone else wants to go home.”

Tsukishima does. They are training more than hard enough and he’s still got homework to get to, not to mention the math exam he needs to prepare for. He only realizes that he’s still looking in your direction when you turn your head and catch his eye, sending him one of those calm smiles he’s learned to expect from you.

He turns away, but not fast enough. Yamaguchi sends him a questioning look.

At least his best friend is smart enough not to ask about it when others are present.

“How are you keeping up?” You ask, falling into step alongside him. Yamaguchi tenses to his right, but no one else seems to think it weird that you’re talking to them.

You’re friendly to everyone, but Hinata quickly claimed your attention. He was the one who found out you played Volleyball before you moved and even though he lacked the brain, he did not miss the fact that you’re talented.

Ennoshita and the more sensible second-years are never far from you and are most likely the reason you joined their team as assistant Coach instead of the girls.

“Tsukishima?” Your voice cuts through his musings. He flinches and turns, surprised to hear Yamaguchi muffle a snort behind his hand.

“Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“I’ve noticed. Is the training regimen too much?”

“No,” he sounds a little too defensive, he thinks, but he doesn’t want you to think he’s lacking. “No, it’s just… I was thinking about the upcoming math exam.”

You nod. “I understand. How are you doing in that subject?”

It’s easy to talk to you, Tsukishima realizes. He might not like spending so much time with hotheads like Hinata and Kageyama, but Volleyball Club isn’t all that bad if it means spending time with sensible people like you. And the others, he immediately follows up, as if to defend his thoughts to himself. You’re not the only sensible person on the team.

“Here,” you hand him a bottle, “drink this.”

“What is it?” Tsukishima asks, a little annoyed. He doesn’t like admitting it, but he’s thankful for all the tips he’s gotten from Kuroo, even though he still hasn’t figured out why he does it. Is he trying to fool him, teach him something he can exploit later? Whatever the reason, he’s started butting into things that don’t concern him. And if you’re now digging into his small appetite as well, he’s going to-

“It helps,” you explain calmly, “my Dad showed me. I don’t have that much of an appetite but I need, I mean, needed the calories. It’s a little trick. Try it, see if you like it.”

It tastes like strawberries and cream, has the consistency of a milkshake.

“Thanks,” he mutters, a little lost in his feelings.

Your hand is warm on his shoulder, the grip strong. It sends a strange flutter through his body that he likes as much as he despises it.

“Do you have a minute?” You ask, meeting him in the darkness. Behind him the warm light of a now deserted Gym, behind you the dimly lit hallways that lead to the bathrooms.

“Sure,” Tsukishima agrees because it’s you. His feet follow your direction as you lead him down the path, away from the bathrooms and the Gyms. You don’t speak for a while and even though he’s tired and sweaty, he can’t argue about the calmness of the moment.

That is, until you turn at the sound of an animal and your hand brushes his, knuckles over knuckles, skin slick with sweat.

It’s only for a second, maybe even less, but he can feel himself moving, grasping for your hand as if to hold it. And isn’t that ridiculous?

“You wanted to talk about something?” Tsukishima says, heart in his throat as he balls his hands to fists, fighting against something in him he cannot begin to explain, to understand.

“Yes.” You nod, look at the ground first, then up at him. “I wanted to ask what you think of yourself.”

His tongue feels too large for his mouth. Do you know what he’s been thinking about lately?

“I know Yamaguchi already talked to you, he told me bits and pieces of it. I wanted to talk to you too, but I…” you laugh abruptly, “well, it seems he was faster. Tsukishima, do you think you’re less than… than the others?”

“Never,” his mouth says when his heart screams Of course!

You smile in a way that tells him that you’ve already seen through him.

“This is a training camp,” you tell him and he can’t help but admire how you brush against the topic with such a gentle hand, “I won’t take too much of your attention. I’m gonna give you my number, okay, and we can talk about this some more when we’re home and have a bit of free time to our hands.”

He laughs. The idea of free time has long turned unfamiliar.

“Poor Tsukishima,” you smile with a smile that has his heart bubbling, “it seems I’m going to have to help you.”

“Tsukishima-Senpai?” One of the new first-years asks and it’s so weird, isn’t it, to be in the middle like that. Still looking up to the Third-Years, but well aware of the example you’re supposed to be giving.

“Yes?”

“I was told- uh, I was told to take this form to the Coach, but I can’t find them anywhere and I don’t know- uh, Hinata-Senpai said I should ask you or, or the Captain, but I’m-”

“Look,” he grabs the boy’s shoulder and turns him a little until he can see you, sitting next to Takeda-Sensei, smiling a little at Nishinoya’s and Tanaka’s antics, “You can go and ask our assistant Coach.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m one hundred percent positive that she’s not going to bite off your head if you ask her something. I might, however.”

Yamaguchi sidles up to him the moment the younger boy runs off, grinning in a way that tells Tsukishima he heard every word.

“Hush,” he tells his best friend, “you heard nothing.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell on you. It’s weird to have our Third-Years missing, isn’t it? I miss Suga’s gentle hand.”

Tsukishima sighs. Yes. Ennoshita’s a good Captain, but he’s still a little unsure of himself. His eyes find you without meaning too, catch the smile you share with the shy First-Year.

“We still have a gentle hand. If we do our best we might even be able to show it ourselves next year.”

Yamaguchi laughs, clearly surprised. But he’s still his best friend, dropping the topic when it becomes clear he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“Is that seat taken?” You ask, voice barely audible. He takes his backpack off the chair and watches you slide in, the mountain of books in your arms a clear sign of the upcoming exams.

Tsukishima doesn’t want you to leave. Not this school, not this team. Not- no, he’s not going to go there.

You catch him looking, send him the calm smile he��s grown fond of, maybe even addicted.

There’s the sound of paper ripping and a little folded up note lands in his lap.

His hands shake a little when he opens it up, your handwriting is neat, the ink not yet dried, smudging as he smoothes the paper.

Can we go for a drink later? I need to tell you something.

His heart thumbs uncomfortably in his throat when he looks up, your smile is bittersweet.

Whatever his heart is wishing for, his head already knows that it won’t be the topic you’ve chosen today.

And he’s right.

You’re not confessing to him, nor are you addressing his own, deep seated, carefully hidden feelings for you.

The truth is worse and better at the same time.

You’re leaving, right after graduation.

And though you promise to keep in contact, a part of him sighs in relief.

Maybe, through distance, his heart will let go of this ridiculous idea.

After all, there are not many people he admires in this world, but he’s not dumb enough to think he could be a match for one of them.

His throat is dry, his nose clogged and he can barely see but his blaring phone does not care about that at all.

It takes him a moment to find it amongst the used tissues, one more to figure out how to pick up the call.

“I’m not sick,” he grunts into the little device, expecting yet another one of Yamaguchi’s worried Check-Ins.

“You do sound like it though,” your voice answers and the shiver it sends all over his body is most definitely not from the fever he’s been fighting.

“W-well, I’m not,” he stutters, looking for his glasses. He feels vulnerable without them, even more so with you on the phone.

How long has it been that he’s heard your voice?

“Well, if you’re not sick, how come that Yamaguchi asked me to check in on you?”

“He did? He’s worried for nothing, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” the little sound you make in the back of your throat does weird things to his stomach, “So you did not not pick up the phone yesterday after he brought you home with a high fever the day before that?”

“What are you, our mother?” He asks, words slipping from his raw throat. He regrets them the moment he hears them, even more when your answer is silence.

“Do you see me as a mother figure?” You ask and there’s a new feeling in his stomach, one that’s asking him to find the nearest bathroom before he’s starting to heave.

“No, I-” Tsukishima doesn’t know how to explain himself, or what to say without giving himself away. So he says nothing and neither do you.

Eventually though, he has to make a sound, mainly because he can’t keep from coughing for more than a few minutes.

“Tsukishima,” you ask, voice grown up and small at the same time, “tell me, how are you? We haven’t spoken in a while.”

If your conversation only grazes the surface of what he wants to talk about it’s his fault and his fault alone.

“I really like you,” the girl tells him, a little box of chocolates in her hands. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

She’s brave, to ask like this. Just this morning another girl from his class confessed to him. He’s forgotten her name on purpose but he’s not blind to how well-liked she was among her peers.

This girl, however, isn’t. She’s too tall for a girl, some say, too shy to be class president, too lanky to be good in sports. But she’s got a calm smile that reminds him of you and maybe that’s the reason he accepts, with a guilty heart and a knot in his stomach.

Maybe all he needs is someone else to fall in love with.

He knows it’s stupid, but he’s never been smart when it came to his heart.

“It’s a clean break.”

“It will heal fast, no lasting damages.”

“At least now you’ll have time to focus on your schoolwork. College is no joke.”

“Do you need my help, Tsukki? I can take a few days off work until you’re settled.”

He doesn’t want help. He might need it, but he doesn’t want it.

He doesn’t want company either, because none of them know what to do with him.

He’s miserable company on his best days but breaking his finger will leave even someone as cheerful as Hinata in a slump.

But, he thinks bitterly, things like that don’t happen to Hinata. Or Kageyama.

No, those things happen to him, right when he’s finally got a starter position in his College team. Right when he feels almost comfortable in his life.

So it’s not unreasonable for him not to want to talk to people.

If only the people would realize that and leave him alone.

First, it was the doorbell. Then came the knocking. Now someone’s calling his name.

“I’m coming!” Tsukishima’s not expecting anyone but if he had to guess, he’d say his brother made his way over. Akiteru has yet to learn when to keep away.

He fumbles with the keys, his cast as usual in the way.

The door opens wide and he stills, too aware of you to be aware of himself.

You look gorgeous. Your hair’s a mess, your eyes red and overshadowed by exhaustion, your shirt looks like you slept in it. His hand reaches out, faster than his brain can keep up, tapping your shoulder to make sure you’re real.

“Yes, it’s me,” you tell him, half a grin on your face, “let me in?”

Tsukishima steps aside, only now realizing he’s wearing boxer shorts and socks and nothing more. Heat crawls up his throat and he thunders down the hallway and into his bedroom to get dressed the best he can.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, anger lacing his voice to hide his shame. “Last time we talked you were-”

“Halfway back to Japan,” you interrupt him from the doorway. “It’s not official yet, but I’m starting as Assistant Coach for the Sendai Frogs next month. It’s just a Division 2 team, but it’s a start.”

He stills, not just because his arm is stuck in his shirt.

“You’re moving back to Japan?”

“Well, I was planning to,” you joke, “kinda hard to Coach a Japanese Team when you’re living in Argentina. Can I help you with that?”

“I’m fine,” he argues.

“That you are.” There’s a teasing lilt to your words that has his ears burning.

He’s twenty years old, not fifteen.

“When did you arrive?” He’s trying his best but his arm is stuck. You’re halfway through the room before he can speak up, hands warm as you help him out of his misery.

“Half an hour ago.”

You’re too close, but too far away. This is not- Can he still blame it on the painkillers if he took the last one this morning? He opens his mouth to ask you when he realizes that you’re the last person he should ask about this. But-

“Tsukishima?” You ask, voice soft, smile calm like he’s grown to love. “You’re in your head again.”

“Yeah, sure,” he nods, “How did you know?”

“You mumble your thoughts when you’re like that,” you point out and he might have caught it, the meaning those words carry, if your hand hadn’t reached up to cradle his cheek.

His eyes close for a brief second. In that darkness, there’s just your touch, the warmth of your hand.

His eyes flicker open again. You’re closer now and though he shouldn’t his eyes flicker to your lips, dry and chapped from a long flight.

“Do you love me, Tsukishima?” You ask. He leans in to kiss you. He’ll just blame it on the painkillers later.

“You had a crush on me,” Tsukishima points out, half dumbfounded, half giddy about the revelation.

“We just became a couple,” you point out, drawing your finger through the air to literally point at the way you’re sitting, your legs over his, ankles crossed, your face smushed against his shoulder. Your jetlag and his exhaustion do not mix well. Or maybe they mix perfectly, who knows at this point?

“Still,” he lets the truth linger on his tongue. It tastes delicious, like victory.

“But I think you were crushing on me first.”

“Well, we could fight about that,” he says with the air of someone who’s already won.

You snicker. “I am sure we will. But, Kei-” You stop when he shivers, the sound of his first name on your tongue still a little too indecent for this early hour. “I wanna talk some more about this. I had this big speech planned and-”

He leans in, presses his lips against yours. Once, twice, some more because he can, because he’s allowed to, one more just because.

“I think we should sleep first, talk later,” he can feel you smile, lips against lips, nose bumping his, “we’ve got all the time to talk about it in the morning.”

“Look at you, trying to be reasonable,” you coo, “You’ve grown so fast.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Hinata says, clearly a little miffed that his favorite Senpai picked Tsukishima over him. “He’s so mean all the time. Are you being held captive?”

You laugh easily. “No, but better make sure Kei’s here on his own free will. He might be the one being blackmailed.”

“Well, I can see it,” Sugawara declares friendly, “Tsukishima and you always got along. Two pees in a pod, really.” He winks.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Tsukishima declares with the air of someone who could care less. Your hand squeezes his and he knows he’s been found out. You know he cares. A little too much most of the time.

Buy me a Coffee?

#my writing #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader #tsukishima kei #Tsukki #Tsukishima fluff #tsukishima #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #haikyuu drabbles

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heretherebedork · 3 days

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Ming's realization was like a ton of bricks crushing his already broken heart. He already knew that he loved Joe and to find out that the first time he fell in love truly was Joe? It's more than he can bear. And to see the moment that he fell in love with 'Tong' reenacted and realizing that he never loved Tong, not ever, because the only person he ever loved was Joe? Absolutely shattered him.

And then, around them, the world is burning but all Ming cares about is Joe... just as it's always been. Ming was fully prepared to burn the world down for love and he is now more than ever... but Joe sees the fire, Joe is the one the fire will burn if and when things go wrong.

#my stand in #my stand in the series #ming x joe #mingjoe #joeming #bl drama #bl series #thai bl #thaibl #asianlgbtqdramas #asian lgbtq dramas #thai bl series #thai bl drama #thai series #thai drama #thdrama

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ladyamortencia · 2 days

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Okay another parallel in this season this author noticed. When Penelope reads his journal, Colin had written about how

"He felt such intimacy but also such a great distance."

He then goes on to say something similar to the dumb ass lords when he goes out drinking with them, specifically asking

"If they find it tiring to be so cavalier about the one thing that's supposed to hold a genuine meaning and if they find it lonely."

They laugh at him like he has completely lost it. But do you know who didn't laugh at him? Who told him that his writing was brilliant? Who wanted to read more if he let her? His Penelope. The only person who has truly appreciated his thoughts, but most importantly his feelings. The feelings that he is forced to lock away as soon as he puts on his armor to be the

"Man society expects him to be."

Penelope doesn't expect him to be that man. She only expects him to be Colin which includes all those feelings. She cares about all parts of him, not what society has deemed important. Penelope is so enamored and loves this man so much, she wants to read journals of his inner thoughts. She says that he

"Made writing seem effortless which is so hard to do."

She wasn't talking about the act of writing. That's not the difficult part. What some books and authors lack is a depth to the words, a sense the author or character is more than just those words on the page.

Penelope complimenting Colin's writing solidifies that Pen cares about him as himself. It forces him to realize that she has always been there to listen to those feelings. Was there to respond to his letters. That's why he is so put out when he gets home from the club. He realizes that the one person who truly cares for him, who sees past the facade he puts on, is Penelope.

I think this is where Colin "my wife" Bridgerton really starts. The minute he realizes that he wants to come home every day just to hang out with his best friend. To sit there and talk about real things and deep topics and not just the topical conversation the ton deems appropriate. This man just wants to love and be loved.

The minute Violet mentions the proposal and he takes a moment to think about it, he realizes he can't lose her. He has to try because she is the only one that has ever matched his, ignited the spark in not only his desire, but his heart and mind. This man goes and gets himself his wife before someone takes away the one person who understands him.

#polin #down bad colin #colin needs a hug #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #polin bridgerton #my heart cant take it #colin bridgerton #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #penelope bridgerton

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01zfan · 13 hours

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confident | j. sc

boyfriend sungchan x reader | 7.3k words

this is in the anything 4 u verse but it is NOT part three. this happens before the series!

contains: dom/sub dynamics, cum eating, this is kinda filthy LMFAO

your unwavering confidence bordered on arrogance and was so palpable that people called you all the names to match. brash, overconfident, cocky, presumptuous. sungchan knew that peoples words about your personality only further solidified the notion in your brain that you were the shit.

sungchan believed it was all an act at first. he knew you when you were meek, never letting your personality show to anyone besides him and shotaro. sungchan remembered when you were all limbs, growing into your face, and perpetually awkward. he knew what you were because he was the same way, just lanky and uncoordinated stumbling through every social situation. but somewhere along the way you started acting like you had unwavering confidence. you stood a little taller, spoke a little louder, and focused on looking people in the eyes.

you had gotten so used to putting on the mask that it became a part of you. it wasn’t a bad thing, your confidence made you stand out and go for things you wanted in life. you made connections and boldly made friends, and advocated for yourself. he saw the way you tricked your mind into being cocky until that’s what you became and he respected you for it. sungchan even envied your ability to turn on your charm at the drop of the hat. you could be scowling one moment and then all smiles and alluring the next—it was no mystery how you were able to get people to kiss your feet so easily.

sungchan was a victim to your charm. he was able to admit that he was powerless against your pouty voice and pleading eyes when you wanted something. but he was able to convince himself he was different from everyone else. he was different because he was one of the few people in your life that saw your personality change from a nervous teenager to a confident young woman in realtime. he was also different because he was the only person who could make you realize your unwavering confidence put you in situations where you bit off more than you could chew.

that’s why sungchan laid on his bed with his hand behind his head as he video called you. it was deep into the night, but he was wide awake. the adrenaline rush from turning in a group project buzzed in his mind, and reading your compromising texts from the past week kept him alert.

you had fully taken advantage of the fact that sungchan was predisposed for his group assignment. he couldn’t hang out with you due to having to devote all of his time into the final project that was worth a bulk of his grade. you understood, so you let your boyfriend lock himself away in his dorm and the library but there were moments where you couldn’t handle it.

sometimes your messages would be sweet. you’d send sungchan little anecdotes of your day or send him pictures of things you saw that reminded you of him. sometimes it manifested in a quick text while you were walking to class, looking down at your screen and typing away instead of trying to avoid running into people.

sometimes the messages would be abrupt. a few times it was sungchan texting you at odd periods of the day saying that he needed to see you. he treated you as a little pick me up, asking you nicely if you could come by his building just so he could see your face and give you a quick peck on the lips.

anytime sungchan would send you a text even remotely needing anything in the drop of a hat he’d get a picture of you outside his building. if he needed to see you he’d get a picture of you outside the bench of his dormitory by yourself and if he asked for food it would be a selfie of you with a bag of takeout clutched in your hand.

you didn’t know how to describe your sudden need to do everything for sungchcan. maybe it was because he did such a good job of taking care of you, even if it came at the expense of his own comfort. there were moments in your relationship where you didn’t know why sungchan was so doting, why he acted the way he did—why would he be outside your dormitory building the moment you told him you were bored or why he’d offer to drive you anywhere you wanted to go. but when you saw sungchan come out of his building for the first time with his eyes wide from surprise you understood. just hearing the words thank you baby fall from sungchan’s smiling lips made you want to do anything for him. you couldn’t equate the feeling you got from sungchan bringing you in for a grateful hug to anything else. it was something like adrenaline and pride starting in your heart and working its way up to your head before spreading across your shoulders. the ability to take care of someone who so earnestly took care of others made your back straighten and gave you even more of that dangerous confidence.

the fact that sungchan had to reluctantly leave almost as soon as you saw him did anything but help. almost immediately after you handed him the food or gave him a peck on the lips he was heading back up to work. you also had to become the responsible one, denying sungchan’s silent attempts to get you to come back up to his room with him. you knew that you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from distracting sungchan from his work, and that he wouldn’t stop you either.

you seemed to enjoy taking care of him so much and sungchan let himself enjoy it too, he saw it as a privilege to be doted on by you. so he humored the worried texts about getting enough sleep and he even texted you a few times that he was hungry just to see what you’d do. he was indulging himself in being spoiled by you. sungchan couldn’t stop his big toothy grin when he felt you become him overnight. now it was you kissing sungchan goodnight before he retreated back to his dorm, it was you slipping your hand into the back pocket of his jeans when you two would go on walks, and it was you bringing him in closer by his waist when you two would kiss.

one of the few things that was still sungchan’s was the job of compromising texts—something he took great pride in. he had mastered the art of keeping a straight face in public while sending you teasing and flirtatious texts about he was going to do to you when you two were alone. he could be talking to his friends in the dining hall and text you under the table that he missed the way you felt around him without missing a beat in the conversation. sometimes he would send them when you didn’t expect it. at a party while you were dancing with your friends, at dinner while he was sitting on the other side of shotaro. sungchan remembers vividly walking into the library and seeing you already there, sitting at an empty table with your back facing him. he smiled at your focused state, how you slightly nodded to the music in your wired headphones. he leaned against the wall, letting his fingers do all the work while he focused on your upwards facing phone and your hunched body working away on an assignment. when the text was sent sungchan smiled and waited, watching your hand absentmindedly reach for your lit up phone while he tucked his away. he liked being able to tell the exact moment you read his text, if you’d be able to stay quiet deep in the corner of the library in between the rows of dusty books. he took pride in seeing your head quickly dart around the room to see where he was.

the combination of not being able to see sungchan for longer than five minutes at a time and your newfound confidence of taking care of him made you bolder than usual. that’s why deep in the night when you missed your boyfriend in other ways your texts would become exponentially impure. you thought about how cruel it was to have sungchan so far away from you when all you wanted was to be with him. the project unfairly came in your relationship where sex was new and the two of you were figuring everything out about eachother. you always thought the urge to live underneath sungchan’s skin was bad, but after he touched you for the first time it was getting harder and harder control yourself. when you pulled him close by the legs wrapped around his waist for the first time you became insatiable. just as you started to get used to the feeling of his sweaty chest pressed against yours he was gone, keeping himself under lock and key to finish the semester successfully.

maybe it was because the roles were reversed, how you were the one servicing sungchan all week. the fact that you were doting on him and asking how his day was and if he ate made gave you think you were him. not being able to see him made you needy, and being needy combined with the fact that it was late at night and your boyfriend wasn’t touching you all over made you insatiable. the only way you could attempt to comprehend how you felt was venting out all your sexual frustrations in your boyfriends messages. so every night, almost like clockwork, you would fall apart and text sungchan every step of the way.

the first time sungchan received a text from you his eyes almost bulged out of his head. he had perfected his texts over time, finding the perfect balance between sexting and non-assuming teasing. you were different—you skipped through the double entendres and beating around the bush and went straight for the kill, telling him how badly you missed backshots. sungchan made the mistake of sending you three question marks immediately, because you sent back a list of everything else you missed back. he was distracted for the rest of the night, rereading every bullet point while his work was staring at him on his dimming laptop screen.

sungchan quickly found out you didn’t know what to do with the power of texting. he knew that being behind a screen gave you the confidence to tell him such lewd things. although you were confident, and that was something no one could ever take away from you, you were weak for him. sungchan took it as a compliment, how you couldn’t keep eye contact for too long or how you would smile slightly thinking he couldn’t see it. he could see the way you got the nervous jitters around him and how you were still hesitant to ask him for favors. in the bedroom your shy habits only increased tenfold. you had the disgustingly cute habit of hiding in the crook of sungchan’s neck or screwing your eyes shut when he would look at you. sungchan found it to be a pleasant surprise how you were during the act, making every time he had you in bed a battle. one side of him wanted to coax you to become more comfortable, but the other side wanted to force you to look him in the eyes as he mocked you for being so submissive. you were nothing like the fiery, confident, and smug girl in the bedroom. you were full of please’s and thank you’s and whimpers about how good everything felt.

sungchan knew that you knew how shy you were. so he was surprised when he read your text message on the following night talking about how you badly you wanted to ride him. suddenly the girl that only spoke when spoken too in bed was declaring that she would make him beg for it.

each sexual promise or confession of your lewd desire sungchan would send you back an equally desperate text. he imagined you smiling to yourself on the other side of the screen, completely unaware of what you were getting yourself into. he let the tension build up, he let you get bold due to the academic obligations keeping the two of your apart.

when sungchan finally submitted the assignment he learned back in his desk chair. he let out a heavy sigh, stretching his limbs out so far that he heard the satisfying crack of his bones. he grabbed his phone to send the official text to his group that the project was turned in and they had a presentation in a week. like the whole duration of the project, all he received was a thumbs up from one person and silence from everyone else. he would have the time to complain about how awful his partners were later, right now he had more important things to tend to. right as he sent the text your name appeared right on schedule, another compromising thing in the message preview.

i need you to nut on my face😕

sungchan laughed to himself seeing that one. tacking an emoji to something so unhinged made sungchan almost send you something equally unhinged back. but he realized that he had all the time in the world now, and you had completed your assignments for the week already.

so he leaned against the headboard of his bed, hoodie on as he pulled up your contact. he debated on texting you, telling you that he finished the project early. he thought about calling you and letting you hear the tone in his voice when he asked to come over. but sungchan thought about what you were doing right now, laying in bed watching your television shows as you sent him dirty texts. he wondered if you were wearing that cute pink pajama set he bought you on a whim last time you were out. sungchan decided he needed to see your face, even if it was trapped in the flat dimensions of his phone. when he saw the infamous three gray bubbles appear at the bottom of the chat sungchan wasted no more time and pressed the option to video call you.

while your video call was ringing, sungchan settled more into the bed. he spread his legs, and tucked one of his hands behind his head to show you his arms. he didn’t have a project to worry about anymore and he already felt the stress melting away as he thought about himself becoming your biggest problem tonight. he had your messages pulled up in the background, all the nasty promises you made the entire week.

you answered on the final ring, camera close to your face as you laid in bed. he couldn’t stop himself from smiling as you pulled the camera closer to your face.

“what’s wrong” you asked first.

“can i come over?” sungchan asked.

he didn’t want to beat around the bush. he was impatient and spent the whole week apart. sungchan watched your eyes widen. you adjusted yourself in the screen of his phone.

“you’re done with your project already?” you asked.

sungchan tightened the grip he had on his phone hearing the nervous twinge to your voice.

“just turned it in.” he said.

sungchan watched you on his screen silently nod. he could practically see all the text messages you sent over the course of the week run through your head. you were already frazzled, and sungchan had to move out of frame so you wouldn’t see his smile. once he composed himself he returned back to frame.

“so can i?” sungchan asked again.

“yeah. just text me when you’re outside.” you said.

almost immediately after getting your confirmation, sungchan hung up on you. he made sure to text you see you soon, smiling at the direct reply to your last filthy text. sungchan was quick packing his overnight bag, stuffing his toiletries in his backpack before heading out the door.

when sungchan was halfway to your building, he realized that this was the longest he had been outside in the past week. the only time he spent outside was to go to the library or to class. each time the outdoors seemed overbearing, the only thing he could think about was getting inside of the air conditioned buildings to work on his project. but as he walked across campus to you everything seemed to be better. he walked briskly but had a pep in his step. he listened to the cicadas chirping while he reread all your messages with a smile on his face. sungchan didn’t even care about the humid heat that made his skin feel sticky. he felt like it was a perfect night when he made it outside your building, looking up at the pale brick building to locate your floor. sungchan was able to send the message without even having to look at his phone.

i’m outside. back entrance.

sungchan’s message stared back at him without being read. he let a minute pass, kicking rocks underneath his feet as he waited underneath the singular light. sungchan debated on coming through the front entrance, sneaking in behind the steady stream of girls that were heading in and out. but sungchan knew that would only lead to you getting in trouble for sneaking in a man into the all girls dormitory. because of the no boys policy, you found yourself at sungchan’s place more often than he was at yours. he almost invited you to his place, but he remembered that you specifically mentioned fucking him in your dorm on top of your bed. so he gladly settled for waiting outside the designated sneak-someone-in entrance while mosquitoes circled him like sharks. he even made himself look relaxed, leaning against the brick of the building when you opened the door.

you only opened the door a crack, peaking through hesitantly like you were making sure sungchan was really there. he opened the door the rest of the way by an intentional hand that was placed on top of yours.

sungchan noticed that when he closed the door you refused all eye contact. you shyly scratched at your face, muttering a distracted hi underneath your breath and placing a quick peck on his lips. you turned on your heel almost immediately, quietly walking down the halls of your building while sungchan trailed a little too close behind. he was tempted to put a hand on your lower back just to tease you, but he settled for lengthening his strides so you had to walk a little faster.

sungchan followed behind you the same way you always did with him. he caught you peaking over your shoulder when you two would turn the corner before quickly looking forward again. sungchan had to bite his lip and keep his head down to stop himself from laughing at the nervous look breaking through your facade. even if you knew the way to your room you still hesitated with each step, motioning to your door like he didn’t know which room was yours. you focused all your attention on putting your key into the lock, and sungchan purposely took a step forward to cage you between him and the door.

“i like your nails.” sungchan leaned his head down way too close, acting like he was looking at your nails while lowering his voice. “when did you get them done?” he asked innocently.

“a couple days ago.” you said quietly, pushing open the door.

you opened it quickly, and sungchan was grateful the sound of the hinges covered up his breathy chuckle. while he turned to face the door to regain his composure he heard you quickly take off your shoes go deeper into your dorm to create distance from him.

when sungchan turned back around he put on his best un-assuming face, having to bite his lip again at another sight. even though you made your desperation known through text sungchan had no outlet. working on his project gave him no time, and the idea of touching himself didn’t hold a candle to you. he let himself indulge in you once again, how you stood in front of him so pretty in your pink pajama set with your eyes wide as saucers. he wanted to close the space and pick you up like you weighed nothing, he wanted to lean you against the wall in your entryway and make up for lost time then and there. but he kept calm as he recalled how confident you were in your abilities to manhandle him over text.

you weren’t the type to shy away from sungchan’s gaze. most of the times you challenged it, making it a game to match the intensity. when you were kids and he would glare you would glare right back, even adding waving your hand in annoyance to raise the stakes. you matched his flirting looks, when he lowered his eyelids you’d do the same. but now, as sungchan looked down at you from his spot beside the door you found yourself looking away. he seemed bigger in the context of your room for some reason. even though you had seen sungchan nearly everyday for as long as you could remember he looked so much stronger than the man you were teasing for the past week.

the severity of your texts flashed across your mind but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit defeat just yet. so you cleared your throat and motioned to sungchan to come deeper into your room.

“make yourself comfortable.” you said.

sungchan’s gaze went back to normal in an instant, he bounced from his place in your entry way to walk past you.

“such a good host.” he said.

he wasted no time throwing his overnight bag on your office chair and sitting on the edge of your bed. he watched you with a smile on his face, how you purposely left his line of sight to retreat to your mini fridge.

“do you want anything?” you asked.

sungchan hummed, fully extending his legs and swaying his feet on the ground. he took a page from your playbook, pulling the same move you pulled on him when he’d beat around the bush.

“i want you to come over here.” sungchan said.

almost instantly he heard your movements in the fridge cease, and you came back into his line of sight as you walked to him. sungchan spread out his outstretched legs as you came closer and you slot yourself between them. you were quiet, waiting for sungchan to say something first. he let his hands hold on the back of your thighs and he pulled you in, forcing your timid feet to step forward until your legs pressed into the bed. sungchan creeped his hands down to your knees and back up. he repeated the motion until you put your hands on his shoulders and started smoothing out the fabric of his hoodie.

sungchan drew his feet in, and went from looking at your stomach to looking you in the eyes. he felt your hands on his shoulders hesitate for a moment before going back to their ministrations.

“you gonna do all that stuff you said over the phone?” sungchan asked it calmly, smiling when he saw your lips part in shock.

you nodded your head quickly, eyes still wide at his bluntness. sungchan saw you notice the anxiety resting on your features because you cleared your throat and moved your hands to sungchan’s to pry them off of you. he listened immediately, bringing his hands down to the edge of your bed to hold onto it. sungchan saw the look of determination and the way you furrowed your eyebrows to try and seem domineering. he humored you, sitting completely still as he waited for you to tell him what to do.

“take your jacket off.” you said hesitantly.

sungchan smiled and nodded, bringing his hands to slowly untie the drawstring of his sweats. you still stood in front of him, completely frozen as he gave you a show. sungchan couldn’t remember the last time you were so quiet.

when the drawstring of his sweats were undone, sungchan went to his hoodie and pulled the zipper down. he was slow, letting the sound of the metal teeth unzipping fill the room. your eyes were already becoming glassy before him, and he almost felt pity for you. he rationalized his enjoyment by telling himself it was for your own good, that you should’ve be so cocky. words are nothing if you don’t have the power to back them up. so sungchan slowly takes off his hoodie and throws it to the side, leaving him in loose sweats that barely hug his waist.

sungchan can tell you got another wave of confidence from the way you pushed him to the bed. he could say honestly the sudden pressure from your hands on his shoulders took him by surprise. his back his your bed with a dull thud, and within seconds you were crawling on him. sungchan quickly put his hand on your ass and used the other to get further on the bed. you followed his every move and pressed your lips to his neck. sungchan immediately felt you suck on the skin, and you teased the sensitive area with your teeth.

you two were tumbling messes on top of your sheets. while sungchan tried moving further onto the bed you were only focused on feeling every part of him. your artificial nails scraped his abs, and your other hand suddenly went to the bed to give you both stability. when sungchan tried slipping his hand that was on your ass underneath the fabric of your sleeping shorts you smacked it away.

he rested on the bed fully, looking up at you. you straddled his waist, breathing heavy from your desperation and your attack on his neck. sungchan could already imagine the red angry mark that was going to form in its wake. he was silent watching you, waiting for you to do something else. he experimentally brought his hands to your waist after the silence became overwhelming and you smacked them away again. he let his hands rest beside him on the bed with a hiss and flexed his fingers to distract himself from grabbing at you again.

sungchan was shocked that you so quickly understood what it meant to be dominant. he already felt on edge waiting for what you were going to tell him to do, he even got the urge to beg to touch you. when he parted his lips with a please on the tip of his tongue your hand clutched the wrist of his left hand. you threaded your fingers over the back of his hand and guided it to your body. sungchan thought you would only give him access to the soft skin of your waist, but you guided his hand to your stomach, and then greedily pushed it downwards.

“you know what to do.” you said shuddering.

sungchan needed no more guidance, he instantly pressed his palm flat to your stomach and pushed down past your waistband. sungchan changed the position of his hand to further stick it down your pants. he watched his hand disappear past the waistband of your shorts before he looked up to you for approval. you nodded and lifted your hips slightly from his to give him more room. sungchan took the extra room, he even took the chance to bring his hand back to your ass to lift your hips higher. you let him, leaning forward until you had to keep a hand of the bed beside sungchan’s head to hold yourself upright.

he immediately started working your clit with his index and middle finger. he was impatient, rubbing quick circles to make up for lost time. you didn’t do anything to stop him, and sungchan smiled smugly seeing you lull your head backwards. his hand on your ass gripped harder and he let out a grunt. at sungchan’s noise you came back to your senses, and you grabbed his forearm to get his attention.

“finger me.” you said.

any attempt to add bass to your voice was futile. your tone was whiny, and the same pout you’d get when you were asking for something stretched across your face. but sungchan nodded again and gave you exactly what you wanted. his fingers drifted down from your clit to your core. sungchan used your arousal as lubricant and pushed his digits into you, all the way until he had nothing left to give you.

sungchan alternated between looking at you and his obstructed view of his fingers disappearing into your cunt. he felt you squeeze around him the same time you let out tiny mewls. you were so desperate trying to hold back your sounds, holding onto whatever power trip you were on. sungchan wanted you to give in and submit to him already. he didn’t need anything in your texts anymore, he needed you under moaning loudly with sopping wet eyes. so he gripped your ass a little harder and started guiding your hips backwards on his digits. sungchan looked up at you, how you had your eyes closed in bliss and bit your lip. you were distracted, following sungchan’s guiding hand until you were bringing your hips started going backwards instinctually.

“that’s right.” sungchan didn’t have to move his hand anymore and fully focused on watching you do all the work. “keep going baby.” he cooed.

almost immediately, your hips came to a stop and you pressed your hand flat to sungchan’s chest.

“don’t tell me what to do.” you saiid.

although your voice was still distracted from being touched, your body remained steadfast. you no longer moved your hips back to follow sungchan’s guiding hand. instead you reached into your sleeping shorts and pushed on sungchan’s hand, silently telling him to start fingering you again. he wordlessly fell into his place, working his fingers the same way he always did for you. he withheld teasing remarks when you became sopping wet around his fingers and filled the room with the wet lewd sounds of your cunt. sungchan only silently obeyed, silently hoping that you would get meaner throughout the night.

when he started feeling you get close, you pressed your chest so deep into his sungchan thought he was going to lose his breath. he wrapped his arm around your back, pressing hard just to feel you squirm. you started whimpering in his ear, and sungchan swore he heard a rushed good boy fall from your lips. he drove his fingers into you faster and didn’t stop until you wedged your hand between your bodies to grab his wrist.

“let me—i’m going to ride you.” you said quickly.

sungchan took his hands off of you as you went to one side of his body to take your shorts off. sungchan was faster than you, he even had time to take his condom from his pocket and rip open the packet. he pumped his length a few times watching you impatiently take off your clothes. your set was discarded over the edge of the bed and sungchan successfully put on the rubber, holding his dick upright as you went to straddle his waist again.

you were hesitant lining up his dick at your entrance, sungchan could feel your hole seize around his tip after you slightly lowered your body. he realized then that you had never actually rode him before, it was always sungchan keeping your hips suspended while he drove up into you. sungchan smirked to himself at the realization that you never did any of the work but you still had the nerve to tell him multiple times this week about your determination to ride him. so instead of helping you ease down he put his hands underneath his head, looking up at your knitted eyebrows and your lip caught between your teeth. he reluctantly held back coos encouraging you or telling you how good you felt as you sunk down further and further. he only watched you with a smile on his face as you realized midway you couldn’t handle it. he purposely thrusted his hips upwards slightly, just to hear you let out a squeak.

“don’t stop now.” sungchan smiled.

you didn’t have enough focus to chide sungchan the same way you did before. you were enveloped in trying to take all of him, to ride him the way you promised. sungchan saw his chance to tease you relentlessly and to take back the dominance you tried to claim as yours.

when you took all of sungchan you slowly raised your hips and lowered them again. your palms pressed into his chest for stability as you tried to find a rhythm. you pathetically readjusted your body, changing the position of your knees to find proper angling. sungchan mockingly pouted to your face while your eyes were screwed shut from the effort and stimulation. you pushed your knees higher up on the bed and it finally gave you the ability to start rocking slowly. you whined from the pressure and silently hoped that sungchan would take pity on you. you didn’t realize how hard it was to keep going without sungchan’s hands guiding your body up and down.

“about time.” sungchan took one of his hands from behind his head after you started slowly riding him. he ran his free hand through his hair so he could have a clear view of you falling apart. “took you long enough.” he teased.

hearing the mean edge to sugnchan’s voice made you think he had seen you suffer enough. you thought he had taken back his role as the dominant one in bed, and you could go back to being the one that took it all. so you whined again, and moved your hands from sungchan’s chest so you could press your chest against his. but instead of letting you collapse against him so he could plant his feet into the mattress and fuck up into you, sungchan put his hand on your shoulder to keep you upright. when you stopped moving completely his other hand from behind his head started pinching your burning thighs each time you slowed down or broke your rhythm.

“i thought you said you were going to ride me all night?” sungchan asked.

any rebuttal you had was trapped in your throat. you were weak, not even bothering to smack away sungchan’s fingers that were nipping at your flesh. all you could do was pitifully shake your head and try to fight against sungchan’s hand that was still pressed into your shoulder.

“barely lasted a minute.” sungchan cooed mockingly.

“please.” you were nearly crying, not even knowing what you were asking for.

sungchan couldn’t describe what he felt seeing you finally submit to him. your eyes were becoming more and more wet by the second, and each time he pinched at your thigh you screwed your eyes shut and let out little pitiful sounds. the lesson he was trying to teach you left his mind the same time he let go of the hold on your shoulder. you wasted no time pressing your chest against his and sungchan took even less time bringing his hands to your body. he held onto your waist firmly and planted his feet into the mattress as he lifted your hips.

the desperation and waiting hit him like a freight train the moment your hands gripped his shoulders for stability. his hands went to other parts of your body—your ass, your back, your shoulder blades. sungchan settled on the back of your head and neck, turning your face so you were looking directly at him. he gently kissed your forehead, the complete opposite from his hips that were kissing yours with a rough slap.

“i missed you.” sungchan says it while holding back a grunt. when you only moan in response he presses his face against your sweaty cheek. “what else did you say over the phone again?” he asks.

sungchan feels you shake your head again, and when he feels you draw in a breath in preparation to speak he speeds up. you settle deeper into him and his hand on your back keeps you in place.

“i thought you were gonna make me cry?” he refuses to let up, you are driving him to the brink by your weakening grip and incoherent words. “thought you were gonna do all the work?” he teases.

when sungchan hears you cry out an i will he almost loses it then and there. when you suddenly pull your hips off of sungchan he’s the one that is left a shuddering and whining mess. sungchan watches you quickly clamber off of the bed as you pull at his hand to follow your lead. sungchan is confused at your sudden change in demeanor but follows you wordlessly. the feeling of almost emptying into the condom makes him pliable to your impatient hands. you guide him to the edge of the bed and he lets you. when you settle between his legs sungchan’s hand goes to your face to draw a line from your cheeks to the top of your head. when your hand pulls at the slimy stick condom sungchan groans and he props his other hand behind his back to keep his body upright.

his hand tightens in your hair but you’re the one in control, evident in the way sungchan lets out pathetic curse when you kiss his tip. sungchan feels you exert all your strength in your hand that presses into his thigh to constrict his movements. even if he wanted to he doesn’t think he could. his body turns to jelly when you take him into your mouth, and when he feels your nose press into his abdomen he becomes even weaker.

“oh my god.” sungchan whines.

he screws his eyes shut hoping that it’ll help him focus on not cumming down your throat. far off in the back of his mind he still remembers your last text and it’s the only thing that keeps him together. he has to bite his lips when he hears you gag and the vibrations of your laughing around his dick. he bucks his hips and now it’s you pinching him before you take him just as deep again.

when he opened his eyes again he saw you staring back up at him, meeting the same gaze you always shied away from. you didn’t have the same intense look he always gave you when he knew you were close, instead you still look up to him with eyes that are wet from want and almost pleading from desperation. he makes the shocking discovery in that moment that he really is no different from everyone else. even if you’re the one on your knees sungchan is the one begging, and even though you are the one struggling to take all of him in your mouth you are the one in charge. he realizes that he will forever be at your mercy, even if he is the one that is fucking you into the mattress. he could hold your hands over your head but you are the one in charge. he will do anything for you just by a simple look, the dominance for sungchan is just a show—a technicality because of his stature.

he had to weakly pulled his dick from your mouth after hearing you gag again. your eyes opened wider, glassy and red as sungchan started jerking himself off. he kept the same speed you had and he tilted his head to the side as he continued looking at you. your lips were plump and glistening from spit and precum, and your impatient tongue swiped across your lips to clean them.

he looked at your flushed face and your hand that was desperately digging into the flesh on his thigh as your eyes stayed trained on his dick. you were nothing like the nonchalant and cocky demeanor that oozed from your text messages, but somehow you were just as powerful. you were desperate and it made sungchan’s hair stand on end. he watched you part your lips in anticipation instead of commanding him because you already knew he was going to deliver on your filthy promise.

“can i cum on your face?” sungchan looked down at your lips, needing one last thing. “please?” he whimpered.

you nodded quickly, readjusting yourself on your haunches. you straightened your posture instead of leaning into sungchan’s thigh.

“yes.” you clear your throat. “you were so good for me.” you say hoarsely.

you knew you said the right thing when sungchan lulled his head back and increased the speed of his hand. you focused your blurring eyes from their perpetual state of begging to the determined and focused look sungchan would get when he knew you were close. your hands that dug into the muscle of his thigh started rubbing soothing circles, and you perked your chest up more for show. by the time sungchan focused on you again he was lifting his hips off the bed to come closer to your face. his doe eyes were struggling to look at you, fluttering closed when you parted your lips again. sungchan brought his free hand to clutch at yours on his thigh.

“i’m close.” sungchan whimpered.

sungchan stood up fully in front of you, and you began preparing yourself. he looked down at you one last time, heavy pants leaving his swollen lips. you watched his chest rise and fall rapidly in anticipation and felt the muscles of his thigh tighten underneath your hand. you could see the begging in his eyes and hear please coming out rushed between his pants. you responded by quickly wiping your face with your hand that was on sungchan’s thigh and tilting your head upwards. you locked eyes with him for a second before reluctantly closing yours.

the same moment you became a blank canvas sungchan painted it, his hand coming to an abrupt stop as heat bathed the apple of your left cheek and the tip of your nose. you heard a groan and then more heat bathed your other cheek. sungchan cursed above you and squeezed at your hand so tightly you thought it would break. you bared the pain when you felt he had more for you, coming out in spurts as he milked himself. you felt it on your eyelids and glide down the sides of your forehead. you felt sungchan thigh shake underneath the pressure of your hand before he came to a complete stop again, letting on one more heavy exhale.

right as you started to miss having a view of sungchan, you felt him quickly crouch down to you. you blindly grasped at him before you felt his finger quickly swipe over your eyes. when you didn’t feel anything on your eyelids anymore you opened them slowly to sungchan’s still labored breathing. he looked at you like he was waiting for something, his gaze flickering to himself all over you and your eyes. you were both equally bewildered, both of your lips parted waiting for someone to say something. you saw sungchan’s cum glisten on his index finger, and you suddenly had an idea. when his tongue darted out to wet his lips you saw it dribbling down his hand. your lips parted and you licked your own lips.

“eat it.” you said quietly.

sungchan looked even more bewildered hearing your request. his pupils shook looking at you and you blinked slowly. before you could take it back sungchan’s finger disappeared into his mouth. you watched with a slack jaw, and felt a sick pleasure bloom in your chest when he pulled out a completely clean finger. you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when he showed you the proof that he ate it all by silently spreading his fingers and turning his hand around.

“you little freak.”

#seriez: anything 4 u #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

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moonshynecybin · 3 days

Note

for the prompt list, #8 rosquez and the closet is the factory ducati box next year

#8: oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck.

WORD. This got long (1.3k good lord)... fox in the henhouse concept from f1vegas look at their post here...

Vale pulls him into a closet after FP2. Marc, to Valentino’s surprise, goes.

“What was that?” He starts, frustration filling him to the brim. Pecco in the dirt, Marc one step closer to his ninth. Running through Ducati like a fox in a henhouse.

Marc doesn’t answer, just stares at him like he’s taking fucking notes. It conjures memories of when he would follow Vale’s lap in quali after sticking his own bike on pole, a moment just to catalog his strategies, peek at what lines he was planning on taking, and it thins his already narrow patience.

“Marc,” he tries again, more forcefully. His tone is quiet, he has to be quiet in here, with half a dozen Ducati engineers outside, but he knows Marc feels every inch of intention.

Marc’s posture is clamped up, arms crossed. His scar is poking out of the sleeve of his shirt, jagged and pale in the dark of the room. He blinks, calm, and Vale shifts, irritation ratcheting up. Marc does this— stonewalls him like this. Refuses to engage.

“What?”

“With Pecco— what were you doing?”

“Let me go.” Marc asks, and his voice is even, but his eyes— gone. Done. He isn’t even looking at Vale, is absently looking at the space of wall to the right of Vale’s shoulder.

Vale hadn’t even realized they were touching. His hand springs away from Marc’s arm like he’s been burned, and he compensates by stepping closer, crowding Marc in against the wall. Body heat simmers in the small space of the room, close enough to feel.

He takes a rough breath inwards. He fucking hates the sight of him in that red team shirt, hates the way his eyes sink in on themselves whenever Vale tries to get him to, to do something. Bend, a little.

He never does.

“Answer me,” Vale asks, tilting his head so he’s directly in Marc’s eyeline. “Or are you too much of a coward?”

That triggers something— a flame sparks, catching at Marc’s edges, and he’s back, terrifyingly present. His eyes shoot up to meet Vale, chin lifting proudly, and his jaw clenches. The most direct acknowledgment of tension Vale’s gotten from him since they were last on track together, going on four years ago now.

“Or what?” Marc answers, casually flinty. He's not giving an inch, now, every bit of the ego rising to the surface. Marc’s back, he remembers everyone saying last year. Apparently so.

Still, something ugly and satisfied claws in his chest at the attention, at the way he’s finally gotten Marc to acknowledge it. He knows Marc wouldn’t do this with Pecco, wouldn’t let it get this far— He’d be out the door by now, halfway to his motorhome, content in his ability to confine it to the track. Content to say he doesn’t take it with him once he steps off of the motorcycle. That careful separation of Marc the rider and Marc the person that Vale knows is entirely bullshit.

But he’s not turning and leaving. He's still here, with Vale, his feet planted on the ground like he’s bracing to throw a punch.

Marc’s neck stretches, craning up a few inches to meet him. The only light in the room, a thin slash peeking in through the crack in the doorframe, casts dramatic shadows over his cheekbones, moody and dangerous, and his eyes are deep, dark pits. They flash as Vale refuses to yield, glimmering with that same savage energy he recognizes when he looks in the mirror. His pulse thrums, loud in his ears, and—

Marc looks older, like this. alone and up close. Tired. Anger setting his face into marble. A statue carved by Vale’s own hand.

The moment stretches tight enough to snap, coiling in his body like a spring. Breath hits his face. He can’t stop staring at the soft pink of Marc’s upper lip. Vale leans forward, on the lure, and Marc leans back, reactive, unsure. His eyes jump wildly, searching for something on Vale’s face.

And then they’re kissing like they’re starving.

He loses time after that. flashes. A hand in his hair. A wet pressure across his pulse point. Fingers working at his belt. Marc presses close and he presses closer, tugging his waistband down over his ass and spitting in his palm. Marc’s eyes close when he gets a hand around blood hot skin, nearly collapsing into Vale.

His thumb rides its way to press against the underside of Marc’s cock, wet against his fingers. Marc’s eyes squeeze shut, pretty face locking up at that first lightning sharp hit of pleasure as Vale gets his teeth in his neck and bites hard, tongue a soft counterpart against the skin there. Marc shifts, shivery, a caught sound in the back of his throat, and his lips part. Soft, overcome. A different fucking world from the way he was a few moments ago, tension snaking away from him as Vale sucks harder. He’s going to leave a mark, something obvious, shiny and purple.

“Cameras, cameras, cameras,” Marc remembers, chest heaving. He taps at Vale’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Vale says, unrepentant, and leans in to bite again. Marc moans louder this time— he always did like it like this— and Vale has to break off to shush him.

“Microphones, microphones, microphones,” He whispers in Marc’s ear, just to watch Marc fight a smile. His own cock is throbbing, and he hauls Marc against him so he’s riding the top of his thigh. His dick bumps against Marc’s, still slick and red from spit and the friction of Vale’s hand. He catches on the picture they make for a second, breathing loud in the quiet of the small room.

“C’mon,” Marc pleads, characteristically impatient, voice hitching in as Vale wraps a hand around them both, drawing them off on long strokes. “C’mon— fuck,”

“I’ve got you,” Vale answers, still fixed on the visual of Marc’s cock notched beside his own— he thinks he can feel Marc’s pulse through his cock—

“Please,” scrapes its way out of Marc, throaty, almost involuntary, and he’s so wet now, collapsing into Vale as his arm works faster. The sound is obscene, they’re going to get caught. He doesn’t care.

“I know baby, I’ve got you—“ Vale babbles, nonsense flowing out of him as Marc’s head burrows into his neck, breath hot and wet on his skin. “That’s perfect, you’re perfect, fuck, just like that—“

They’re both close now, breath coming harsh and fast, and the temperature in the closet is scorching, heat crowding in. Marc shudders as Vale gets in a particularly nasty stroke, and Vale can feel it, a feedback loop between their bodies winding him up every time Marc’s hot mouth skates over his skin, every time his cock jerks in his hand. He feels wild, half out of his mind, hand in his dick and on Marc’s dick in a hot rapid slide, as close as he can get without— without—

He opens his mouth, says “You should— you should let me fuck you, in here. So everyone would know, would hear. Let me put it in you,”

Marc convulses, “God,” He swears, cheeks red, and comes gasping, shooting over Vale’s fist, getting them messy. And it's the sight of his come, staining up the pretty red of his Ducati team shirt that sticks in Vale’s mind, too much, and hurtles him over the edge, a gut punch of a sensation, mouth open around a curl of Marc’s hair, sweat dripping down his back.

#okay i have to go to work ! the others will probably not be this long...#prompts #my fic #motogp #callie speaks #rosquez

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peachhcs · 2 days

Text

mark to the rescue

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy isn't feeling it when hannah drags her out, so mark comes to save her from the frats

2.1k words

i always love writing the big brother relationship between samy and the umich boys, so here's her and mark after he picks her up when samy attempts to go out and talk to guys but realizes all of them are horrible

au masterlist

“come onnn, you haven’t come out with us in like..forever,” hannah frowned at samy where the girl sat on her bed trying to get her homework done. a small eye roll came from the soccer player.

“maybe because i’m trying to keep up with my work?” samy’s tone had a bit of attitude laced into it.

hannah’s noticed she’s become a bit more bitter ever since the breakup and knew to not take it personally. “okay, well you can take a break? it’ll be a fun break,” the girl tried again with a hopeful smile.

“i’m just not into it,” samy shrugged knowing she wouldn’t really have fun. she never had a lot of fun when going out unless she was somewhat wasted and there was no way she was drinking her weight with a game in two days.

“for an hour? please? for me if not yourself? maybe you’ll see a guy catch your eye or something,” hannah wiggled her eyebrows, but that only earned her another unimpressed eye roll.

she’s been on samy’s back a little about going out and talking to some guys since will clearly didn’t care anymore and neither of them had spoken for five months.

“again with the guys, huh?” samy raised her eyebrow.

“i just think it could be fun for you. try out your flirting. you never really had to do that with will because he was always just all over you,” immediately after hannah said that she realized she probably shouldn’t have.

samy’s gaze hardened a bit at the mention of will’s name.

“if i come out, will you shut up?”

hannah smiled, “yes. i knew i could convince you. come on, we need to get you ready.”

samy was dragged off the bed a moment later, her textbooks and notebooks long forgotten as the two girls dove into samy’s closet to find an outfit.

thirty minutes later, hannah and samy packed themselves into the full frat house. sweaty bodies knocked against one another along with drinks dropping to the floor as it sloshed out of people’s cups. the scene was chaotic and samy quickly regretted coming out.

“i’m gonna find a drink. want anything?” hannah yelled over the speakers.

“get me whatever,” samy responded. the girl nodded before disappearing into the crowd of bodies towards the kitchen.

samy perched herself in the corner where she hoped she could hide the whole night and not have to talk to anyone. her phone suddenly became really interesting as she swiped through her different apps awaiting hannah’s return.

“hey, samy, right?” the brunette’s head snapped up at the new voice.

when she saw the face a few feet away, she instantly recognized him. he was in her political theory class where the two bantered back and forth about differing opinions. samy managed a small smile.

“hi, yeah. that’s me. you’re..dylan, right?” the boy nodded when samy got his name right.

“yeah, that’s me. i’m always firing some opinions back at you in class,” dylan said and samy nodded.

“yeah, that’s right. those are fun,” the girl chuckled even though they were on opposite ends of the debate most of the times, samy enjoyed having someone to have civilized discussions with amd she knew they entertained the class.

“i didn’t really take you for much of a frat girl?” dylan hummed, leaning himself against the wall. the brunette shrugged some.

“i’m not, but my roommate dragged me out,” somewhere in the crowd was hannag getting them drinks and samy lowkey hoped she’d come back soon so she could exit this conversation.

it wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to dylan, samy knew what he wanted and why he was near her and that was just something the girl didn’t really want to partake in.

“how are you and your boyfriend? i never see you post about him anymore?” dylan asked casually, but that sentence alone nearly sent the girl spiraling. she forgot people would ask her about will because they were fairly public with their relationship.

“um, we broke up a few months ago actually,” samy swallowed, eyes on the ground.

“oh. i’m sorry, i had no idea. that sucks,” the taller boy quickly sympathized with her, but samy shook her head.

“don’t worry about it. it’s fine,” she gave a tight lipped smile that hopefully dylan would take the hint that she didn’t want to talk about it.

he seemed to not take that hint though, “you were out of his league anyway. i’m sure you can do a lot better than him.”

samy seriously hoped hannah was on her way back with those drinks. “yeah, it’s whatever. i’m getting over it,�� the soccer player’s fingers brushed across her charm bracelet, subconsciously toying with the shark charm.

whether the youngest hughes wanted to acknowledge it or not, she played with that charm a lot whenever will was on her mind as if it would help her stop thinking about him even though he got her that charm.

“i bet your brother’s hockey friends are just lined up for you,” dylan seriously did not know when to stop talking.

luckily, hannah pushed her way back through the crowd with two cups in her hand. she beamed when she caught sight of her roommate talking to a guy.

“oh, perfect. i was waiting for you, hannah. mind showing me to the bathroom,” samy immediately cut in when the girl got close enough.

samy had eyes that said get me away from this man. hannah glanced between her and the guy before nodding, letting the soccer player drag her away before anything else could be said. as soon as the two were out of view, samy grabbed a cup and quickly chugged whatever was in it.

“jesus, slow down, hughes,” hannah laughed a bit.

“these fucking guys don’t know how to take a hint. have they always been this bad?” because will was always just there, samy never had to do much flirting with him to catch his attention. she hardly paid attention to the guys in the frats last year, so she never realized how horrible it was to talk to one of them.

“did something happen?” hannah grew concerned.

“just that dylan can’t take a hint when to stop talking. he literally thinks luke’s hockey friends are at my feet after knowing will broke up with me,” the idea made the brunette shudder even thinking about it.

“ew, gross. that would be a whole new low for you if you started dating one of them,” hannah shook her head.

“can i just leave? i’ll get mark or someone to pick me up. i know you’re trying to cheer me up, but i don’t think a frat is gonna make me smile,” samy frowned a bit.

hannah studied her roommate's expression and she knew this scene wasn’t for her. it never had been anyway. “okay, just text me when you’re back? i’m sorry this wasn’t fun.”

“it’s okay. i promise i’ll text,” the two girls exchanged tight hugs before samy started her way back to the door and searched for mark’s contact.

she knew ethan was studying for this big exam coming up and mark never did much except hang out with his girlfriend, so samy just hoped she wouldn’t interrupt things when she called. surprisingly, the older boy picked up on the second ring as soon as samy got outside.

“what’s up hughesy?” mark cheered.

“hey, i hate to ask but can you pick me up? i’m at this frat hannah dragged me out to and i just wasn’t feeling it. i’ll send my location,” the girl explained.

“yeah, sure. i’m on my way,” mark said.

“thanks, mark. i owe you,” the two hung up and samy made her perch outside while she waited for mark’s arrival.

ten minutes later, mark’s little honda civic pulled onto the side of the road. the boy reached over the seats to push samy’s door open for her. the girl smiled as she climbed in beside him.

“thanks again. i didn’t wanna bother ethan knowing he’s studying,” samy explained as she buckled in and mark pulled back onto the road.

“it’s not a problem. i was just playing video games with the other guys,” that made samy laugh because of how typical that sounded. those guys were always glued to their computers on call with one another.

“any chance you’re hungry? i could go for our usual,” mark glanced over at the girl with a smile.

anytime ethan or mark had to pick samy up late at night, they always stopped at their favorite pizza place on campus that became the spot the two boys took the girl out for lunch every other week to catch up with her like real annoying brothers would do.

“i could always go for pizza,” samy grinned back at the older boy.

they pulled into the parking lot a few moments later as the two eagerly hopped out to order their usuals—two slices of pepperoni for samy and two slices of cheese for mark. with it being almost 12 in the morning, the two got in and out and then found a table outside. they let the comfortable silence overtake them, savoring the first bites and people watching the very drunk college kids wandering around to different house parties.

“so bad night, or what?” mark wondered.

“not really..i just wasn’t feeling it i guess. this one guy tried talking me up and it got weird really fast,” samy shook her head.

“what’d he say?”

“well, first he said i was out of will’s league because i told him we broke up when he asked. then he said and i quote, “i’m sure luke’s hockey friends are lined up at your feet.”” mark quickly frowned when he heard that.

“what the fuck. who says that,” his eyebrows scrunched together in near disgust.

“i have no idea. i just had to get out of there. i forgot how awful guys are when they’re trying to flirt with you,” the younger girl shook her head again.

“i guess you have been out of the game for awhile so,” mark gently teased, but that made samy smile.

“apparently. i hate that i actually have to like deal with that if i wanna talk to guys now.”

“are you thinking about dating again?” mark asked.

“i feel like i can’t keep sitting around being sad, so maybe. i don’t know. probably nothing serious though. the dating scene doesn’t really appeal to me.”

“makes sense. i’d be the same way if i were you. i know you and will didn’t date for a long time, but that was some serious shit, so.. moving on isn’t that easy,” the older boy sympathized, which samy appreciated.

“right. i was his first time, so i’d say that’s pretty serious,” the girl mumbled, but mark made a face.

“ew, i didn’t need to know that part. but like actually?” his reaction made the brunette laugh.

“sorry, but yeah i was. surprised me too when he told me, but i don’t know. i kind of thought it was sweet,” samy hummed a bit, her finger going back to the shark charm.

“i know you’ve probably heard this a hundred times, but i really hope you guys can work it out. especially the friendship part. having a best friend like that is really special. i never really had a best friend like that until i came here and met ethan and luke and all the guys. even if the dating can’t happen again, i really hope you two can be friends again,” mark said softly which samy surprisingly didn’t hate hearing. she knew everyone who was saying this had a point and she, too, hoped that her and will could work something out. it was just a matter of who was gonna reach out to make it happen because they were both very stubborn.

“thanks, mark. i also hope we can be friends at some point again,” the two shared a smile.

they stayed for another ten minutes before deciding they should get back because it was late. when mark pulled into the parking lot to samy’s dorm, she reached out to give his arm a loving squeeze.

“thanks again. text me when you and ethan are up for our get together next week and i’ll see you at tomorrow's game.”

“yes, ma’am. have a good night,” they exchanged one last smile before samy climbed out and started her way back to the dorm feeling a lot better than she did when she left earlier.

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asidian · 16 hours

Text

One thing I haven't seen talked about is Crystal's character arc, and specifically the way the timing of it interacts with Charles' arc. They stumble over each other in the worst possible way en route to their respective character growth, and from a narrative perspective, it's absolutely genius.

I'm going to preface all this by saying: none of this is a criticism of Crystal. Part of what makes her such a dynamic, refreshing character is that you don't get to see women in fiction written the way she's been written. You don't get to see women with her flaws that aren't throw-away mean girls or villains. You especially don't get to see women with her traits who learn and grow and become better people. So yeah, I'm going to talk about Crystal's character flaws. No, this isn't Crystal hate. We love our girl in this house. Okay? Okay. Let's start.

Crystal's character arc, at its heart, is all about her learning to be a better person because she has good influences that love and support her for the first time.

When the show starts, Crystal is not a nice person. She's abrasive in a way that's specifically designed to push people away. She's used to getting her own way, and it shows. She's used to having no meaningful connections with anyone, and it shows. She's breathtakingly selfish, in the very literal sense of the definition. She is focused on her self. Her problems are front and center to her; everything is about what she needs, and what she wants, and how she's struggling.

Jenny calls her out very early on. In episode one, Crystal is complaining about the boys, and Jenny, for all her cynicism, strikes right at the heart of the problem. She tells Crystal, "Everybody is always thinking about themselves, all the time." People only care about their own problems. And she says, correctly, that that's what Crystal is doing, too.

This moment is a revelation for Crystal. For the first time, she considers what her behavior looks like from another person's perspective. As she says, she gets mad at herself over it, and that awareness allows her to do something selfless for the first time in the series. She takes a step back and insists that instead of focusing on her problems, they go to help a little girl. It's a big moment for her.

But importantly, she's not done growing as a character here. She's only just getting started.

On my first watch through, I didn't realize how often, over the next few episodes, Crystal redirects things to her problems during conversation, but it's quite a lot. She's still focused on herself – selfish, in that most literal definition of the word. The issues most important to her are her issues. She's starting to learn to think about other people, but she's not there yet. The process is still underway.

Which brings us to Charles.

Charles' arc is a different sort of self-reflection. He's terrified that he's a bad person the way his father was and the way the boys that killed him were.

During the course of the show, he gets systematically stripped of his confidence and made to feel helpless, and just like Crystal needs outside influences to help her reach a more stable place, Charles does, too. He desperately needs reassurance that he isn't everything he's afraid he is.

But my goodness, the timing in their arcs is such a trainwreck when you put them together, and it is brilliant.

Let's start with the Devlin House.

Crystal has some amazing character growth here. She displays genuine concern about Charles, makes an attempt at comforting him, and learns to work with Edwin even though she still doesn't particularly like him at this point.

Charles, meanwhile, is beginning to fall apart. He's just had the worst night of his afterlife. He's been viscerally reminded of how helpless he is. He couldn't stop the Devlins from being killed over and over, just like he couldn't stop his own father's abuse. He messed up his attempted rescue so badly that he was completely out of commission until the case was finished. He managed to help not one single thing. He made no impact at all. He couldn't help those girls any more than he was able to help himself, while he was still alive.

So they get back to the butcher shop, and what do we see? Monty immediately coopts Edwin. Niko doesn't know what's happened because she wasn't there and Charles has been all fake smiles with her. And Crystal goes off with Niko, leaving Charles to flounder on his own in the wake of everything. She's still learning how to support other people. She isn't there yet, and it's extremely on display in this moment.

Then we get the lighthouse episode, and they both get put through the wringer here. Crystal gets her hopes and expectations jerked around by the Night Nurse in the very worst way, and Charles gets hit with a whole pile full of trauma. All that helplessness wells to the forefront again. Combined with being forced to relive some of his worst memories and the desperation to keep Edwin safe from hell, Charles lets himself act on his anger for once.

And what does he get in the aftermath? Horror.

Everyone who cares about him is horrified by what he's done. Edwin goes so far as to call it extreme. They don't know the half of it, of course; they haven't seen what the Night Nurse just put him through. But in this moment Charles is at his absolute lowest, and all he sees is confirmation that he's exactly as terrible as he thinks he is.

That's why Charles shrugs off Edwin's attempt at comfort, here. When he needed to be able to do something to protect Edwin and also himself – when he needed to believe that he could be better than what his father always was – all he sees is the confirmation from the people he cares about most that when push came to shove, he really is a bad guy.

Then comes the aftermath. And this moment is such a brilliant, awful clash of both of their character arcs. It is so delightfully messy.

Because Charles starts to open up to Crystal here. He starts to lay himself bare, the way he ends up doing with Edwin in episode 5. He's on the verge of admitting something that he's been worried about for literal decades. He tells her, "I've been angry for such a long time."

And what does Crystal do? She's still in the midst of her own character growth. She's still struggling to support other people. She's still learning how to. In a lot of ways, though she's made progress already, she's still that selfish girl that Jenny called out in the very first episode.

And she shows it here it with the absolute worst possible timing. No sooner has Charles started to talk about what's bothering him than she cuts in with her own problems. She's tired of riddles and spirits and demons and not knowing who she is. And the look on Charles' face. The moment when he visibly sets aside his own problems, because Crystal doesn't need any more disasters on her plate? It's heartbreaking. You can actually track the subtle change in his expression there. The actor does a phenomenal job.

And then comes the kiss. And what spurs it? Crystal saying she needs something real.

This moment isn't about light-hearted attraction, the way the earlier flirting is. It's Charles setting aside what he needs – comfort and reassurance and a moment to talk through the things that have been tearing him apart – to give her what she says she wants. He can't even feel it. And Crystal isn't far enough along in her character growth here to realize how selfish she's being. Like Jenny said way back in episode one, she's only thinking about herself.

And then comes the absolute unmitigated disaster of episode 5.

Straight out the gate, Charles leans in for a kiss. From his perspective, they have something together; there's affection there. Charles "I think I'd miss kissing" Rowland, who has been starved for meaningful physical contact for thirty years, is not in a hurry to give this up.

But Crystal is fresh out of a nightmare where she conflates Charles with her abusive ex. She withdraws; she calls what they had a distraction. She cuts it off almost as soon as it's started, so focused on her own worries here that she misses how damn fake Charles' smile is, to cover up that he's coming to pieces.

To be clear, she's absolutely not in the wrong here. It is 1000% her prerogative not to jump into a relationship again while she's still struggling to work through what happened with David. But the arc of her narrative is still early enough that she does it all without so much as the awareness that her focus on her own issues has hurt Charles terribly.

And then the episode really kicks off, and both of them are in shambles in very different ways.

Crystal is projecting her issues with David onto Charles. She has a lot of history, and David seems as though he's exactly the right sort of toxic to leave lasting a lasting impact. But Charles hasn't done anything to deserve her assumptions, and he takes the brunt of her temper here and throughout the episode.

Charles is desperately projecting onto the dead jocks. He very badly wants them to be good guys, because he sees himself in them and he needs himself to be a good guy. He snipes back at Crystal for the very first time in this episode, and he does it in the worst way possible, accidentally prodding her where it will do the most damage.

They're both hurting. They both say some truly painful things to one another.

She does not need to hear that she has unsorted hangups about David still plaguing her while she's unable to move past them. He desperately does not need anyone to tell him that he has rage issues while he's still struggling to think of himself as a decent person.

They apologize, in the end. They start to move past it.

But it's telling that Charles doesn't try to open up to Crystal again. He goes to Edwin instead, even though Edwin is the one who called his actions regarding the Night Nurse extreme. He gets the reassurance he needs so badly; he gets the connection he was looking for with Crystal from Edwin, instead. (I have a lot of thoughts on why Charles initially tries to open up to Crystal so quickly, but it is very much an aside, and this is already extremely long, so it will have to wait for another write-up.)

But the important thing here is, Edwin is the one to offer Charles what he needs to overcome the self-doubt eating him alive. Edwin provides the physical affection Charles was seeking in the form of that long-overdue hug. Edwin is the one who's able to reaffirm for him that he's not just a good guy, he's the best person Edwin knows.

And for all intents and purposes, Charles' major character arc ends here.

Charles has a few last little moments to go on the path to rebuilding his own self-image, after this, but for the most part his concerns have been resolved. He saves Crystal in episode 6 and Edwin in episode 7, proving to himself that he's able to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds. He's not helpless, no matter what the Night Nurse told him; he can be a force for good in the world. By the end of the series, his crisis of self-doubt seems to have been largely overcome.

But it's the conversation with Edwin at the end of episode 5 that really allows him to work through his most pressing issues. Edwin is there to help support him when he stumbles. Edwin provides him the comfort he was looking for while Crystal was too worried about her own problems to notice how badly he needed the help.

Crystal, meanwhile, still has a ways to go after episode 5. The last three episodes are where she does her most important character growth.

In episode 6, she learns some hard lessons about keeping secrets and letting people help and appreciate you even when you can't offer them anything in return. And Charles, importantly, is there for her every step of the way. He consistently offers her physical and emotional support. He models for her, in a very real way, what it looks like to have someone prop you up when you need the help.

And in turn, Crystal steps in to save the boys. She's the big damn hero at the end of this episode.

The breakthrough continues into episode 7. She's so intent on helping to get Edwin out of hell that she literally goes to face her own demons, not for herself for once – not for her own purposes or needs or wants – but because she wants to help someone else.

And episode 8, at long last, brings her to the culmination of her character arc.

Crystal is at her absolute lowest here. Her family, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, didn't even realize she was gone. Her precious memories, that she's spent the entire series trying to regain, have showed her that she's not the person she hoped she would be. She's overwhelmed enough that she means to flee, to cut herself off from her new friends entirely.

Then the boys get kidnapped. And just like that, she makes up her mind.

For the first time since the start of the series, she sets aside her most important issues in order to let what other people need take precedence. She disregards all of her own personal concerns and focuses instead on others. She's finally stepped out of those selfish impulses that Jenny calls her out on, all the way back in the first episode. She's finally learned how to support other people when they need it.

Crystal has finally figured out how to be there for others, despite having troubles of her own.

It's a lovely arc, and it's beautifully done.

Charles' is just as touching.

And god damn, but it was a brilliant narrative choice to have their character arcs line up in exactly the wrong way.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #dbda spoilers #charles rowland #crystal palace #edwin payne #meta commentary

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caustinen · 3 days

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cleagan regency au!! bucky is a social & wealthy bachelor who loves partying and has a bit of a reputation for flirting with the boundaries of appropriaty but he gets away with by being so charming and charismatic and kind and charitable. gale on the other hand was raised in a very strict family, struggling with money due to his father’s gambling issues, and he was taught a very traditional understanding of value of modesty and chastity, definitely no premarital relations of an improper kind whatsoever, the image of the family is precarious as it is.

the one time his friend alexander manages to drag him to a dance bucky is of course there and is immediately intrigued with the beautiful blonde in corner, wondering how he has never seen him before, and asks him for a dance. gale is aware of bucky’s reputation but despite his parent’s warning voice in his head the urge to accept the invitation is too great, and they end up dancing a couple of times through the night, and even when bucky is dancing with someone else gale can feel his eyes on him and the attention makes him feel tingly, something new stirring in him.

they meet at a couple of more dances (gale accepts alexander’s suggestions to go for them much more often lately for some reason) and bucky keeps wanting get to know him, asking about his likes and dislikes as they dance, what he wants to do in life, things no one has cared about in him before. over the last few weeks gale has finally started to realize the new sensation he feels when he thinks about bucky is desire, and it scares him (his upbringing really managed to internalize that fear of social exclusion if he was ”to whore himself out” (the religious side never really got to him the same way despite his mom trying to warn him about going to hell too)) but also excits him, so when bucky asks if he wants to see the garden outside of the ballroom he accepts despite knowing it’s absolutely unacceptable to go with him *gasps* unchaperoned.

they find themselves in a remote corner and gale can’t remember laughing as much during his whole life as he has in these few moments he’s shared with bucky. he feels comfortable and genuinly appreciated & wanted, and while his breath hitches when bucky places a careful hand on his hip and steps into his space, he lets him, places his own shaking hand on bucky’s arm for support. he’s so nervous he might pass out when bucky’s eyes drop to his lips but it isn’t until bucky actually kisses him when he truly freaks out. he pulls away and stutters ”i’m sorry” about 11 times in 10 seconds and then runs away, leaving behind a confused bucky and a worried alexander when he tells him he’s not feeling well. he goes home and lies in his sorrow of having messed everything up with the loveliest person he ever knew and probably his only chance at real love. bucky’s lips still tingle on his and no matter how wrong it might be, he’d desperately want to feel that sensation again.

the next morning there’s a knock on the door when the whole household is having breakfast and his parent’s are completely blown away by the wealthiest high gentleman of the county in their living room (they haven’t asked about the ball’s and gale hasn’t told them) and even more so when he asks to speak with their son. the house’s maid walks behind them to not leave them compromised when they walk away from the house, and once they reach a lakeside (gale’s safe place, not that john would know) the older starts apologizing helplessly, asks gale to not think of him as a playboy who abused his position the night before, and seeing him so worried about hurting him breaks gale’s walls and he tells him everything, how the kiss was not unwanted but how he can’t take risks for scandals when he’s living in his parents house and his only option for a future is a good marriage. to his absolute surprise john drops to one knee right then and there and asks for his hand, that he will do it the right way despite not believing in that himself he that means he can get a life with gale.

after gale enthusiastically agrees they walk back to the house hand in hand and john asks for his parents approval, start the slowest three weeks of gale’s life. it’s so unlike him to welcome such a sudden change like this but bucky is all he can think about, and despite visiting each other daily his desire keeps growing the more they get to know each other. they are always chaperoned until they are officially married, of course, but bucky finds ways to show his affections, hands constantly on gale’s shoulder or lower back or thigh under the table or cheeks in a brief moment in the carriage; gale is obsessed with kissing him, every stolen moment adding to his need to always have access to john’s perfect lips, and bucky delights in making him blush my teasing him about how much better it will be, sweetheart, once we’re married and he can do his husband duties properly.

the wedding night… gale has never been touched by anyone anywhere, barely by himself even, so it’s intense, and he gets so worked up by bucky undressing him and kissing him that it’s enough to throw him over the edge the first time. he has no idea what to do and it worries him because he knows bucky is experienced but his new husband is already obsessed with him, encouraging and patient and more than happy to help gale find all the pleasures in the world that he alone will get to give him.

#buck x bucky #cleagan #mota #well that was unexpected #i love me some regency au #gale cleven #john egan #masters of the air #buck #bucky #writing

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stervrucht · 2 days

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Click here for part 1 or read this on AO3

Eddie has no idea why it bothers him that Steve is out with some girl, nor why he’s painting his nails with Robin.

He doesn’t paint them often. It’s more effort than it’s worth and Eddie can’t keep his hands still for long enough to allow the varnish to dry.

Still, he accepts when Robin asks him to hang out.

Her room is simple and small, yet it radiates personality.

It radiates Robin.

Surfaces are littered with trinkets — a cliché souvenir from Indianapolis, a picture of little Robin with a cat, some colorful pebbles she probably collected. She has a French horn sitting neatly in a case, and a stand with sheet music. Her walls are covered in posters — female artists like Blondie and The Runaways.

He doesn’t question the way her eyes linger on him when she tells him about Steve’s untrackable love life.

When he asks Robin about her love life, she promptly blushes and looks away.

“I’m working on it,” she says, uncharacteristically shy.

Eddie eyes the posters and feels something click in his mind.

When he gets home he looks at his nails. The varnish is dented where he bumped it into things before fully drying and his thumb is already chipped from where he bites it sometimes.

A few days later, when he sees Steve at Family Video, the black on his nails resembles a collection of small black islands in a sea of pink.

Call it a nervous tick.

***

“Have you ever kissed a girl?” Eddie asks Robin.

For a moment, a mild shock paints her face, but then it’s gone. Like the first snow in November, when the ground is still warm from summer.

Robin is a stellar actress.

“Have you?” she asks, and Eddie should have seen that coming.

He opens his mouth to answer but before he can make a sound Robin cuts him off.

“Middle school doesn’t count when you’re over twenty.”

“Well, shit, you’re onto me, Buckley.” Eddie chuckles.

Eddie knows. Or at least he thinks he does.

Girls who like Joan Jett like girls.

Eddie has seen it before. At the parties, he attends when he’s selling.

The more niche — the more underground — the better the buyers.

Inexperienced high schoolers hardly fill his wallet.

So he goes to the parties filled with leather and smoke and music that thumps in tandem with his heart, and there he sells. There are no rules at those kinds of parties, only intoxication, flesh, sweat, and lust.

He doesn’t partake himself. The women who try to wind him up — to get his shit for free — he turns them down.

He has to.

He’s got a supplier to pay and this is his job.

Men don’t require free shit. They will flirt for a quick fuck.

He turns them down too, but a part of him feels flattered

“Have you ever kissed a guy?” Robin pulls him back from his thoughts.

They look at each other and Eddie realizes Robin knows too. Of course, she does. She knew before he realized it himself.

Because he has never kissed a guy.

But he wants to.

***

It's Friday and movie night is cancelled because Steve is on a date with Jennifer.

She’s all wrong for Steve. Too bland. Eddie knows it won’t last but he still feels bitter.

Eddie takes Robin to one of his dark clubs. The kinds where anything goes and the people don’t care. They go, not to deal this night, but to get Robin out there.

The girl is a disaster and Eddie knows she just needs a little experience, a little boost, and she will do fine with Vickie.

Vickie, a redhead.

Robin told him, and Eddie can vaguely recall her from the party at Robin’s house. Eddie supposes she’s a nice girl and he hopes — really hopes for Robin — that Vickie likes her as much as she likes her.

They go to a thrift store and buy something black just to tear it to shreds — to make it better — and Robin looks fantastic. Messy hair, dark make-up. A real Joan Jett. If Eddie was a girl, we would go wild for her.

They paint their nails too and this time Eddie’s look better because Robin did them for him.

When Eddie looks in the mirror he thinks he looks pretty fucking good with his low-buttoned black shirt that shows off his tats.

The club is dark and the atmosphere heavy. Eddie hasn’t really been there to party himself, only to sell, and it’s strange to be on the other side of it.

Bodies move like snakes, coiling around each other. He guides Robin to the bar and sticks up two fingers to the barman while mouthing for gin. He hands one of the tiny glasses to Robin and she frowns at it.

“For courage,” Eddie says in her ear, his voice hardly sounding above the insistent bass. He lifts up the glass and Robin reciprocates his toast. Then, after Eddie tips his own shot back, she follows suit.

She scrunches her nose and Eddie wonders if this was her first. Probably. He won’t ask her.

Clubs aren’t made for talking.

Eddie grabs her hands and leads her through the crowd. They settle, surrounded by bodies, and Eddie moves his hands to her hips — to guide her. He can see she’s out of her element but soon the gin will loosen her up and Eddie will make her flirt with some girls. Or maybe leave her to swim in the sea of bodies for a while, to see if she floats.

When the gin hits, Robin’s movements become looser. They aren’t particularly enticing, but they’re quirky and cute. Sweat is forming on her brow in the heat of the crowd when a girl with a black pixie cut steals Robin away.

Eddie leans against the wall and watches them dance from a distance — to keep an eye on her. The girl seems nice enough, doesn’t force herself, and Robin seems more confident as she leans forward to say something in her ear.

“You dealin’ tonight?”

Eddie looks next to him and sees a man in his late twenties with dark brown hair and green eyes. Eddie recognizes him vaguely and he supposes he may have sold to him before — if the question wasn’t a giveaway yet.

“Not tonight.”

“Too bad,” the man says. He takes his time to look Eddie over before continuing, “You’re looking for a bit of fun?”

They share a joint — Eddie’s personal stash — and then they’re making out, sloppy and wet, and Eddie has never kissed a guy before. He feels stubble on his cheek and smells the geranium of his perfume and sweat.

The guy’s brown hair tickles his cheeks and it’s the same shade as Steve’s.

The man’s hands are strong where they trace above Eddie’s jeans, his fingertips calloused — maybe from playing guitar or something like that.

And that’s not like Steve at all.

***

Steve is always on his mind.

He is everywhere.

Eddie feels like he’s going crazy in his absence.

It’s even worse in his presence.

But that is hardly a problem because Steve is busy with Jennifer

Robin and Eddie have a movie night without him that Friday, curled up on the couch of Wayne’s trailer.

They watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and Robin sings along with the songs like the band kid she is.

After their night out, something seems to have shifted in her, even though all she did was talk and dance. She seems more comfortable in her skin and when she speaks of Vickie, there is less of an anxious undertone to it. Eddie is happy for her.

He doesn’t tell her about what happened that night.

Nor that he realized he may be in love with Steve Harrington.

***

Jennifer lasted a whole two weeks.

Steve drags Eddie to some dumb party in a last-ditch effort to get her back.

It’s pathetic really, and it grates on Eddie’s nerves. Eddie doesn’t want to be there, but Robin couldn’t go and Eddie is just that fucking nice.

It’s not like the little get-together they had at Robin’s, which was mostly people from band — an effort to get with Vicky, Eddie realises in hindsight. This party is far out of the realms of Eddie’s comfort zone, especially when he’s not dealing. It’s filled with the type of guys who would make fists at Eddie, call him a freak, the types he loved to provoke in the cafeteria — a mating ground for meatheads and bimbos.

Steve has had too much to drink. Eddie can see it in the way he staggers while he watches Jennifer get cozy with some lanky loser.

Eddie comes up behind Steve, rests his chin on his shoulders, and slides his arms under Steve’s, taking hold of the beer in his hand.

“I think you’ve had enough, Stevie.”

It’s for his own good.

Eddie knows he is pushing the boundaries of what is socially acceptable and he sees some people shooting them glances. A mix between curiosity and disgust. It’s not like jocks don’t do this all the time. They will slap each other's ass and say ‘nice dick’ and somehow that is acceptable. But when it’s someone like Eddie, it suddenly is too much

Suddenly it’s too real.

Steve turns around in Eddie’s arms and they are standing close.

“Hey, I was drinking that.” Steve frowns and his eyes are unfocused as they shift between Eddie’s before drifting down to his mouth.

Fuck.

Eddie isn’t sure what Steve is about to do as he leans forward. Maybe he has just lost his balance, but it sure as hell looks a lot like Steve is about to kiss him.

And this party filled with loose-fisted jocks isn’t the time nor place for a sexual awakening of any kind. Kissing a guy is far outside of the realm of plausible deniability.

Eddie pushes Steve back by his shoulders and slings an arm around him, laughing nervously.

“How about we go for a smoke, you and I.”

Steve furrows his brows.

They sit outside on the lawn. It’s a gathering spot for those that are too far gone. People are vomiting or getting it on, mostly one or the other, but occasionally simultaneously.

The air is still warm and the sky is just barely settling into a dark blue. The time of dusk that somehow feels darker than night.

Eddie pulls his zippo from his pocket and lights the cigarette between his lips. He inhales deeply, letting the smoke rest in his lungs before slowly letting it escape through his lips.

Next to him, Steve holds his head in his hands and sighs miserably.

“Shit man,” he mutters.

“Here.” Eddie nudges Steve in his side and the latter raises his head miserably.

Eddie holds the cigarette out for him and Steve reaches for it with unsteady hands.

“Wait, lemme,” Eddie says as he brings the cigarette up to Steve’s mouth.

Steve’s lips are warm against his fingers as he takes a shaky drag and Steve coughs a little when he exhales.

“Social smoker?”

“Hm...yeah,” Steve replies. He takes hold of Eddie’s hand and brings it to his lips for another drag. The press of dry lips against his fingers is more insistent than before.

Eddie stares into the distance as he writes this Steve into his memory. Drunk, the smell of beer and smoke, and water hitting dry grass from sprinklers of the house across the street. Warm air and distant music, and people talking and yelling, yet it’s just the two of them — a world within a world.

Once they finish the cigarette, Eddie stands up and dusts his jeans. He offers a hand to Steve, who takes it gratefully. He is unsteady on his legs and Eddie holds him up by his shoulder.

“Lemme take you home.”

“I can’t stand being in that house,” Steve slurs.

“It will be okay, Stevie.” Eddie guides Steve to his van and counts his lucky stars he had quit drinking after one beer. He sets Steve in the passenger seat and leans over to buckle his seatbelt.

When Eddie pulls away, Steve grabs his arm and when Eddie looks up, Steve lays his hand on the curve of Eddie’s neck, on top of his hair and it pulls when Steve tugs him closer.

“Thank you,” Steve says. His gaze is unsteady but piercing and Eddie feels himself freeze for a moment.

His mouth suddenly feels too dry and Eddie nervously wets his lips. “Anytime, Stevie.”

He sees Steve’s eyes drift down again, just for a second, and then Eddie pulls away.

When he climbs behind the steering wheel he turns his music off, allowing Steve to sober up in relative peace.

The white noise of tires hitting the road, the engine running, and warm wind gushing through an open window — just a crack — fills the car.

“I didn’t even like her,” Steve says after a while.

The road is unlit and dark and Eddie has to keep his eyes trained ahead. He isn’t sure if Steve is talking to him anyway, or if it’s just drunken rambling.

“Is that so.” Eddie tries to keep his voice cool.

“She was boring. We had nothing in common.”

Eddie hums.

“I don’t want to be alone…” Steve trails, almost a whisper, barely louder than the wind — like Eddie wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Believe me, Steve, you will not end up alone. You’re like, a lady’s magnet if I ever saw one.”

Steve scoffs in response and he turns his head towards the window.

When they arrive at Steve’s house, Eddie gets him out of the car and digs through Steve’s pockets in front of the door to get his keys.

By now, the house feels familiar — like a showroom or an image from an IKEA catalog.

Eddie understands Steve hates being here alone.

Steve’s weight is heavy on his shoulder and he isn’t sure if it’s really because Steve is drunk, or because he has given up on walking altogether in favor of having Eddie do the heavy lifting.

He guides Steve up the stairs and lays him on his bed. His legs dangle off the edge and Steve lays his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Hold on one sec,” Eddie says and Steve just groans in response.

Eddie returns with Advil for the morning and a glass of water, and sets it on the bedside table before he sits down on the bed next to Steve.

“Up you go.” Eddie lifts Steve up in a sitting position and by now he’s sure that Steve is just being a drama queen because he doesn’t seem half as drunk as he pretends to be.

He brings the glass to Steve’s mouth and makes him drink even when Steve initially refuses.

Steve will thank him in the morning.

“Lift your arms,” Eddie instructs.

Steve is looking at him with those big brown Bambi eyes.

And fuck, if that doesn’t make Eddie’s heart do a little summersault.

Steve blinks slowly but obliges and Eddie strips him down to his boxers and lays him down.

When Eddie is about to pull away, Steve grabs his wrist and it’s more steady, more forceful than someone drunk has any right to be.

"C'mere." Steve pulls on his arm and Eddie thinks this is probably a terrible idea.

And look, Eddie might not stick that close to social conventions — or the law, for that matter — but he is a fucking gentleman and Steve is drunk.

So Eddie resists.

Steve pulls more insistently.

“Stay.” It’s almost a whisper and it’s so desperate it sends a jolt down Eddie’s spine.

Steve looks at him, eyes more steady. Perhaps the water had helped.

“Fine, I’ll stay,” he relents. “I’ll be down the hall—”

Steve pulls again. “No, here.”

And Eddie feels himself lose his balance, or maybe it is just his urge to resist. He falls on Steve’s chest and who wraps his arms around him.

Steve holds him and even with Eddie halfway off the bed, it is nice.

But it’s not sensible.

“At least let me change, Steve. Have you ever slept in jeans before? It’s not fun.” Sensible, Eddie reiterates to himself.

Steve whines when Eddie pries himself away.

Steve is a needy drunk.

And a little whiny.

And a lot affectionate.

Eddie undresses quickly and moves Steve so he’s actually using the bed in its intended orientation.

He slips in at Steve’s side, muscles tense as he tries to keep his breathing steady.

Is it possible to die of your heart beating too fast? Eddie is sure he read something about it somewhere and if so, this should be the moment he becomes a religious man.

Steve puts an arm over Eddie’s chest and burrows his face in Eddie’s neck, letting out a content sigh.

As Steve’s breathing slowly evens out, Eddie stares up at the black void of the ceiling.

He realizes Steve has won. There is no way Eddie can beat him at this game of proximity.

Steve, the new king of Personal Space Invasion.

Eddie realizes he may have stopped playing somewhere along the way.

***

There are no more girls.

It makes Eddie happier than it should. Happier than he should allow himself to feel because it can only result in heartbreak.

Yet he can’t help himself.

He takes all Steve will give him. Opens his heart to a world of hurt, just for a sip of the lake that is Steve.

Eddie stays over at Steve’s place often.

Routine carves itself into their life like a glacier, slow and heavy, working its way through layers of stone.

There are no more girls and Eddie can almost pretend that what they share is something more — as long as it remains unnamed.

Steve doesn’t ask Eddie to join him in his bed anymore — he doesn’t have to. It has become a silent agreement among them and surely there are places where platonic bed-sharing is the norm. Probably somewhere in Europe.

Harrington is an Irish name, right?

Eddie always wakes up before Steve does. It’s not hard to do, because Steve likes to sleep in. He sleeps through alarm clocks like the sound is ambient and Eddie wonders how he ever gets to work on time.

Some of those mornings, they wake up pressed together — Eddie’s back against Steve like they’re lovers.

Those flitting moments between sleep and wakefulness are the best because Eddie can pretend.

***

“My parents will be home this week,” Steve says that morning. He leans against the counter next to where Eddie is pouring them coffee.

It is early and Steve will head to work soon. Shy sunlight peeks through the trees behind Steve’s house, into the kitchen where it draws lines on Steve’s thighs. Outside the birds sing like their lives depend on it, but in Eddie’s heart, it's quiet. The mornings smell like coffee and deodorant and freshly brushed teeth.

His shoulders stiffen and his grip on the coffee pot tightens. He knew it would come to this eventually. He prepared himself for it, but it still stings.

“You must be happy,” Eddie says instead, eyes trained on the cups in front of him. They are full, but Steve can’t see that. Eddie can pretend a moment longer, to gather himself before he faces Steve.

“Not really…I mean, it makes no difference to me. They work late, or they have dinners with friends. It hardly changed anything except now I have to take them into consideration.”

“And that means they probably don’t dig me hanging around, right?”

Sleeping over, several nights a week, in bed with their perfect son.

“Probably not.”

Steve lets the words hang there and Eddie feels like he should take them, chew them up and spit them out into something better.

“Wayne works night shifts.”

The words are out before Eddie can stop himself. He hands Steve his coffee, just to have something to do as he sees Steve think. Anxiety wraps itself around him like a snake, squeezing his heart until Steve breaks him free. Eddie imagines the snake from the woods, coiled up with a footprint on it.

Steve smiles, so carefree, so utterly unaware of the things it does to Eddie's heart and reaches over to smooth a curl behind Eddie’s ear.

And this is new — this intimacy in the undeniable clarity of daylight.

Eddie feels his pulse race and all he can do is gape at the back of Steve’s head, who is already walking over to the table with his coffee in hand.

“I’ll grab our toothbrushes before I head out,” Steve says while he pulls out a chair.

---

Click here for part 1 or read this on AO3

---

A/N: So, remember how I said two parts….? Well, this story started to live its own life and I'm but a slave to the whims of these boys. In my defence, it’s probably Steve’s fault. Anyway, there will be more chapters. At least one, maybe two?

#steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #my fics #proximity_fic

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kyruskumiho27 · 2 days

Text

Warnings: •none to be concerned about •fluff •also angst (it’s literally a small but promise😋)

Summary; Miguel Ohara thinks he might be in love

Miguel Ohara hasn’t felt anything in a long while.

Not since the death of his beloved daughter, not since the downfall of the one universe he could be happy in.

His heart was empty, going along with the motions of life. Being responsible for an entire multiverse and spider society was exhausting, but at least it was a small distraction.

He’d overwork himself to the bone, just to get rid of that horrible achy feeling in his chest. Still it was never enough. His mind couldn’t help but draw him back to that awful memory.

And the memories before it. Of his precious daughters laugh, her bright smile as he carried her on his shoulders.

Those little moments, where they would get ice cream or play at the park.

He’d cry himself to sleep those first few nights. The pain of her loss hurt him, and her memory made it even worse. Eventually he stopped feeling anything, only cringing slightly when he saw even a glimpse of his past. Yea, it hurt, but life goes on, right?

He had a whole operation to run, people to take care of and save. He’s never make that same mistake again.

He’d never let anyone get to close.

Until you.

You with your bright smiles and far to overjoyed personality.

With your chipper good mornings and your even more obnoxious goodbyes. He couldn’t get you out of his head.

You’d smile at him anytime he was near, and he couldn’t understand why. He made no move to acknowledge you, not even an attempt to get to know you.

And yet he knew everything.

He knew you preferred tea over coffee.

He knew you hated working on an empty stomach.

And he knew you just loved to talk. He swears his ear would have fallen off, your constant and endless rambling about literally nothing and everything all at once.

You’d skip into his office unannounced, and just start yapping.

At first he hated it.

Why would you bother him, of all people?? Did you not know he was the fearless leader of the spider society??? Protecter of the arachno humanoid poly multiverse????!!!!

But then he got used to it. Enjoyed it over time actually. (He would never admit that).

He’d come to look forward to your little “discussions”. Random topics anywhere between how many more spider people were really out there to why his face was on the burger in the cafeteria.

These moments, they reminded him of a happier time.

He chased that feeling, and he chased you, figuratively, until he realized; holy shot I have a crush!

Well, Peter not so discreetly pointed it out.

And Miguel couldn’t get the stupid idea out his head. He started noticing the small things he did for you, the special treatment he gave you and only you.

He tried to limit his contact with you, until you came to him puppy eyed and sad, asking what you did wrong.

Hw tried putting himself on more missions, but that just drew you closer, fusing at him about being careful and not putting to much pressure on him.

After another short while he realized he was falling in love. (This one he figured out all by himself aren’t you proud🥹?) and he hates but likes it all at the same time?? You were good for him, he knew. But he refused to. Refused to get near you only for you to be taken away from him.

He knew you were stubborn. Knew you’d try to help him, get him to break down bak walls

Eventually he did, little by little. And fuck himself if he didn’t love it.

*I know I know😞 preg reader x Miguel is coming, I just had to write this down before I forgot. You’ll get your smut and fluff loves don’t worry🫶🏽🎀

#writing #tumblr fyp #fyp #fyp2024 #fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel 2099 #miguel x you

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nymphbroadcast · 3 days

Text

Diasomnia x MC! like Vaggie

⊹Sinopsis⊹ೃ🐉⋆ The Diasomnia boys with a MC! Or Yuu like Vaggie.

⊹Relación⊹ೃ🐉⋆ Fall in love/ Free of interpretation.

⊹¡FEM! MC/Yuu/Lector ⊹ೃ 🐉

⋆⊹Clarifications: I decided that the reader will have almost the same story as Vaggie, the reader will be a ''Fallen Angel'' but you are free to change it, in this case since I am such a SIMP for Malleus I made it directly as a love relationship, however you are free to decide.

⊹Vaggie's Analysis⊹ೃ 🐉⋆

• Vaggie is someone who does not trust quickly, due to her abusive and unfair past towards her, she is on the defensive most of the time, she is someone serious and diligent, she is also protective of those she cares about, sometimes she can be little patience, she usually uses force more when she feels conflicts nearby since it is the way she learned to solve conflicts, she has an inferiority complex and self-hatred, due to her upbringing and education she is very good in hand-to-hand combat, she is not afraid to risk her life frequently in moments of danger, she dislikes talking or remembering her past, she has emotional traumas, she has honest love to give and has always believed that there are more ways to use justice than just force, Vaggie He also believes in the idea of sincere redemption and tolerance.

Malleus Draconia

🐉 Malleus is fascinated, no joke, this man is in heaven. YOU ARE A REAL ANGEL!!!

🐉 Malleus immediately notices the celestial "aura" in you, which although attenuated, still remains within you and thanks to his agile mind Malleus relates you to the old stories and legends he read about "celestial beings" who had many functions and cannot help be delighted with your existence.

🐉 Although with their interactions, Malleus grows a doubt in his head: "Where are your wings?" is what he asks himself when he remembers having read that most, if not all, angels have at least a pair of wings, however he thinks that it may be a private issue if you have not mentioned it and therefore neither does he, he thinks that you will eventually.

🐉 With every interaction you two have, Malleus falls more and more into an unconscious infatuation, you are serious but not insensitive, you are respectful but not distant or fearful, you are witty but also emotional... You are practically perfect in his eyes.

🐉 Even though you're not supposed to have magic, Malleus doesn't care in the slightest! He even finds it exceptional that you have excellent fighting skills that allow you to immobilize beings more powerful than you and without an advantage like magic, he must say that he never gets tired of watching you train.

🐉 Malleus is relieved that you're an Angel, that means he won't have to worry about seeing you away from him anytime soon! Plus: you have a human charm, but with the skills of a fairy, the best of both worlds! The dragon boy is happy! (Chapter 7)

🐉 Your constant protective attitude amuses Malleus, you can see him with a characteristic mysterious and somewhat mocking smile of his when you try to intervene to protect him, even when you know that he has more than enough power to protect himself you still try to do it for him!

"Oh could you be more adorable, Daughter of Heaven?"

🐉 For Malleus who is hungry for love and contact, you are a rest, you remind him of the soft moonlight that provides company and security in the darkness of the night. You hug him, kiss him and even do small but long-awaited acts for him, such as: taking him by the waist, carrying him in your arms, taking him to do little dances while you hum a song. Malleus thanks any type of supreme entity for letting you come into his life to give him all your love.

🐉 Without realizing it, Malleus notices something curious: your attitude is not usually the stereotype that someone would have of an angel, you are like "an angel with the attitude of a demon" and in your eyes, Malleus can be physically intimidating, even mistaken for a demon, but his personality... In your eyes he is more worthy of being called an angel than you... Say it for him and you will have an adorable dragon boy sobbing out of tenderness and with a ring just for you 💚

🐉 I have a Small Scenario:

(After his Overblot) You and Malleus are in his room in Diasomnia, you see how distraught he is and how overwhelmed he feels by everything he did: guilt and sadness encompass most of his heart, but you know perfectly well What to do: You take his much larger hand in yours, giving him your "Are you okay?" look... Malleus brings his gaze towards you, he still has those hateful emotions in him and you leave the words aside and simply sing:

🎶"You've already done so much. So many lives you've changed. So many souls you've touched. And in the end, if it's only me you've saved..."🎶

Malleus watches you, somewhat surprised because you never sing, especially in such a... sincere way... Somehow, it seems like he knows what you will say and sings along with you.

🎶"There's something that I've been dying to say

More than anything, more than anything

Need you to know I love you more than anything~

More than anything~"🎶

And finally you and Malleus seal your eternal, deep and sincere love with a kiss... Knowing that no matter what, your love can illuminate even the deepest and darkest pits of hell... And you smile, knowing that Malleus is calm now, with you.

🐉 Malleus already refers to you as his future wife, you are everything he has always longed for and you finally feel understood and supported by him, both create a couple not only powerful... But also what proves that love is everything that unites all types of beings, humans, Faes, Angels and more...

🐉 With everything said, Malleus knows that thanks to you he will no longer have to hide or pretend to be something he is not because you are capable of threatening even the entire world for him and he will do the same for you, so Malleus writes a letter to his grandmother and the entire government of Briar Valley that says they must prepare, because when he returns the first thing he will do is form a future with you and his beloved family (Lilia, Silver, Sebek and You), accepting everything that comes with it and of all kinds of species and this time... He does not will make the same mistakes as his parents.

Lilia Vanrouge

🩸 "Oya~? What's an adorable little angel like you doing in a place like Night Raven College, mhh? Oh you look like a cute moth~!"

🩸 Lilia discovers you almost immediately, thanks to his many centuries alive it is relatively easy for him to identify a person's race. (Spoiler: Lilia's age is 700 years according to Chapter 7)

🩸 Despite the above, Lilia had never seen an Angel or fallen Angel in person, only one or another story from books or war legends that deal with Angels. (Chapter 7)

🩸 So knowing the current Lilia, you have an adorable Vampire Fae asking you thousands of things, although it is difficult for you to talk about it, you always try to be polite and calm when interacting with him, you can't resist to his cuteness.

🩸 When you decide to open up and tell him about your past, Lilia accepts that perhaps you and he have more in common than it seems... Lilia understands what it is to live through wars and kill without really wanting it, so you have him there to support you and feel calmly accepting that tragic past together. (Chapter 7)

🩸 In a way Lilia is relieved, being an Angel or Fallen Angel you will live almost as long if not longer than a Fae and that means she won't have to worry about seeing you die soon.

🩸 Lilia has exceptional skills as a soldier and former right-hand woman of Princess Maleanor, however, being the former second-in-command of your former army, he can recognize your fierceness and determination as a warrior, and he even declares a tie between you and him. (Chapter 7)

🩸 Lilia can also identify in you your immense capacity to love... Sometimes you bring back memories... He knows that if you turned out to be the girlfriend of one of his Diasomnia children (Malleus, Silver and Sebek) it would be excellent, you are capable of giving your own life for those you love but also You are capable of living for your loved ones.

🩸 On the other hand, if Lilia becomes your partner, he will do everything to see you smile and relax as much as possible, he will make sure to take care of you and make you feel as loved as you love him, without a doubt the love of an Angel (with the attitude of a devil ) and a Demon (with an angel personality).

🩸 Either way, Lilia now has a different way of seeing you and once again accepts that love can live in all types of beings... Mortal or not and with thousands of other differences... Lilia knows how difficult it is to love and lose someone, even losing oneselves in the past and memories and he's proud to see and know that you understand what it means to love despite the obstacles and that you are one of the few who still insists on doing something for others and in creating tolerance and peaceful coexistence between all types of living beings.

Silver

⚔ Silver is fascinated, sincerely fascinated... You are so adorable, like a cute moth (Bombyx mori) looking for the light after being locked in a horrible pit of darkness and sadness.

⚔ Silver wants to learn from you, you are admirable in his eyes: Upright, moral, respectful, strong and determined. A real example for him to follow, especially after seeing your great skills in combat.

⚔ Although Silver soon realizes that you are not only that "soldier" that you usually show with your serious and defensive attitude almost always, showing a softer and gentler side of you when you are calm and that at the same time makes Silver want to learn more and more of you...

⚔ Silver can notice your great determination to defend your ideals, you are kind to everyone you can regardless of their race or gender or even species... Look at Grimm.

⚔ As you watch combat, Silver feels how his already great admiration for you grows... You are skillful and resourceful, and you almost always seek to protect him in one way or another and that causes his heart to beat faster. (Chapter 7)

⚔ With all the new knowledge Silver has acquired since it all began (Malleus Overblot) you have been an anchor on the earth, constantly reminding him that his past or origin is defined by his essence even after a while... You reveal your past to him. (Chapter 7)

⚔ Silver is speechless, but connecting the dots everything agrees... Your past would explain why you are so determined to change mutual hatred and resentments, suggesting a peaceful path with gentleness, Silver knows that you are a true Angel when he can identify that your heart is overflowing of love and pure intentions.

⚔ "I'll punch you if I have to." – Do you remember that line? well, it's canon here. (Chapter 7)

⚔ In the event that you and Silver form a romantic relationship, Silver will know that he will never change you for anything because you are more than perfect in his eyes, especially because of the fact that you love... You love more than anything, regardless of the species. Even if he is "human" and you are an "angel or fallen angel" you both love each other more than anything and thanks to that you will live "happily ever after" as it was meant to be...

⚔ In any case, Silver sees you as someone worthy of admiration in every way and knowing that he can trust you with whatever he needs, he truly believes that you are a true angel and he wants to be even stronger to be a knight worthy of protect you.

Sebek Zigvolt

🐊 Sebek is conflicted... At first he does think that you are a human, an ordinary one and even irritating and unworthy of being at Night Raven College.

🐊 However, he has witnessed your fighting skills and respects you for that, you seem like someone worthy on the battlefield.

🐊 Although in reality Sebek does not make an effort to want to discover anything beyond what you show and although you appreciate it, sometimes you really want Sebek to accept that Humans and Faes are not as different as they believe and as you have always defended.

🐊 It must be said, you and Sebek will have many arguments: Sebek on the one hand tries to ignore and hide the fact of being half-blood and you try to make him understand that both Faes and Humans are equal in many ways and that both races deserve respect.

🐊 So I'm sorry if you thought your interactions with Sebek would be immediately friendly or romantic, you'll have to wait until Chapter 7.

🐊 With everything that Silver, Sebek and you have experienced, it must be said that it is obvious that Sebek's perspective has changed. (Chapter 7)

🐊 In fact! It is during these moments that Sebek realizes the fact that you are not even human but an Angel or Fallen Angel, a being that according to many books and people: a perfect being. (Chapter 7)

🐊 So yes, it is very likely that Sebek wants to apologize for how he treated you on many occasions and since you are an angel (wink) you obviously forgive him and remain friends and maybe something more. (Chapter 7)

🐊 We will have to see Sebek's progress during the remainder of the Chapter, sorry.🥹

🐊 However, you become someone of Sebek's respect and affection, for him you are a type of authoritarian figure who defends tolerance and justice without violence among all types of people regardless of race or species.

Nymph's Note:

I must say that this is my favorite so far, I am very fond of Mal-Mal, Silver and Lilia, so I put a lot of effort into this one, which is the last one in this series and request are officially open!

I hope you enjoyed!

Remeber to tune in, end of this broadcast!

Diasomnia Dorm x MC! Like Vaggie Done!

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manikas-whims · 2 days

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how Rafayel from Love and Deepspace will react when he finds out you're on your period..

You walked past the gallery at the Mo Art Studio and headed towards the second floor where this famous artist of your era, Rafayel resided.

He greeted you in his usual cheerful tone and proceeded to dish out the entire plan for your day out with him.

You would've focused a little. Even made sure to cross check the places he mentioned for any signs of recent Wanderer activity as you are supposed to guard him after all.

But your mind was slightly preoccupied by the shallow numbness and weariness you felt in your limbs. And if the wetness you felt between your legs was an indication of what you suspected it to be, then that would be truly mortifying.

Not simply because you hadn't brought any emergency supplies but also because of the company you were in. You couldn't even begin to imagine Rafayel’s mocking reaction. Or the words he'd say if—

The snap of a finger right before your eyes drew you out from your train of thoughts, and you looked up to find the very topic of your concern, better known as Rafayel. He was staring at you, brows narrowed in confusion.

“You okay, Miss Bodyguard?”

“Can I use your bathroom?” You blurted out.

His eyes narrowed even more but then he simply shrugged his shoulders, and gave you the directions.

[moments later]

You returned to the living room with the grim realization that sure enough, your period had arrived. Two days earlier at that!

“Uh...Rafayel, do you..happen to know any general stores nearby?”

He blinked. “What are you up to?”

“None of your business.”

“Wow. Rude much.”

You felt the numbness in your belly slowly turning into a full on cramp. You did not have the strength to bicker with him right now.

“Ugh! Just tell me where it is!”

“Not until you tell me why.” And he went on and on, babbling about how you were the one wasting both of their time by dragging this conversation for so long.

You clenched your fists, bit your bottom lip and inhaled deeply. Oh to hell with decency. To hell with embarassment. To hell with whatever else they said about keeping personal matters to oneself. To hell with it all!

“Because I'm on my fucking period and need some napkins!”

There! You did it, anger momentarily helping you forget about the ache in your limbs.

He asked and as such, now he was informed. Only his reaction was nothing like you had expected.

There were no hints of teasing. Not even a sign of mirth dancing in his pretty eyes.

If anything, his ears were now burning bright red. And so were his cheeks and well..his entire face.

Rafayel put a hand to his mouth to cover up the blush coating his face but it was already too late for that.

He took a moment to compose himself. Then spoke. “Why didn't you tell me yesterday?”

“Because, as I said earlier, it's none of your business!” You yelled. “And I didn't have periods until I arrived here!”

“Okay okay calm down.” He waved a palm wildly in front of you which irritated you further, coaxing you into slapping his hand away.

But before you could do so, he pointed towards the array of furniture lying in his living room. “Go take a seat.”

You rolled your eyes. “And stain your fancy couch? No thank you.”

“Ouch! Did someone ever tell you that you become meaner when you're on your—”

“I’m not mean! You just rile me up!”

“Right okay.” He patted your back and guided you to the couch. “I don't care about the stains. Just sit.”

You stared at him even as you followed his request and sat down.

“What?” He asked.

You scrunched your nose and narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”

His eye twitched upon hearing that. “Nonsense. I'm always nice.”

“No you aren't.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Right. Well, I've texted Thomas. He'll be here with your napkins and other necessities in no time.”

You frowned. “But there's no need. I can just go home if—”

“Nuh uh uh.” He wagged a finger in negation and shook his head. “You rest here for a while. Then I'll drop you off.”

He left before you could utter a word in protest.

And when he returned, he had a pair of clothes in his hands. Dark sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt.

“These should feel more comfortable. Go change.”

You wanted to protest but the dark pants did seem a far better option than the pink skirt you currently wore. Besides, if the skirt got a stain, it'll be hard to get rid-off, and might even ruin the fabric.

Huffing, you took the clothes– his clothes now that you realized– and went back to the bathroom.

Upon your return, you found him seated on the floor mat by the couch, peeling fruits and arranging them in a plate.

“Here.” He poked an apple with a fork and beckoned you to him.

You blinked. “Seriously who are you? And what did you do to the real Rafayel?”

He rolled his eyes. “Haha, very funny. Now come here and eat.”

You were still suspicious but sat down on the couch.

You tried taking the fork from his hand but he refused. “No. Open your mouth.”

You shook your head but decided to comply for once instead of bickering.

“See? That wasn't so hard.”

You chuckled. This reminded you of that one time he got admitted at a hospital, and you were the one who had to feed him.

You smiled as he fed you another apple.

“This is so unlike you.”

He pouted this time and looked directly into your eyes, frustration evident in his gaze. “Miss Bodyguard, you're always taking care of me. Entertaining all my whims. So just..for this once..let me return the favor.”

The earnest tone and his sparkling eyes made your cheeks slightly warmer. For a moment you stammered with your words. Then responded. “Alright then. I'm in your care.”

“Yeah yeah.” His demeanor changed immediately, and he was back to his usual teasing self as he winked you. “Just don't get used to it.”

Here's Rafayel’s version. HOPE YOU LIKED IT.

I'm not entirely confident about my portrayal of Raf but I hope it was alright and not too ooc.

Please let me know what you think. And if you'd like more such headcanons of Love and Deepspace boys.

» MASTERLIST «

#love and deepspace #rafayel x mc #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds #l&ds rafayel #rafayel l&ds #l&ds mc #love and deepspace mc #love & deepspace #love and deepspace headcanons #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace imagines

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prentissluvr · 2 days

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HI MARI !!

IM HERE WITH MY DEAN THOUGHTS!! (mostly platonic)

when you become friends/best friends, he’s ride or die for you

not on the same level of sammy but it’s a close second

the playful banter between the two of you is just great

although he knows that he can be annoying and uses it to his advantage

flirting with you to annoy his brother (he knows that sammy is in love with you and does it to get on his nerves)

PET NAMES!

has a reserved nickname for you but does pull out the pet names if you’re having a bad day

speaking of bad days/sick days

he will go out of his way to take care of you

pulls out all of the stops for his bestie

this is when you realize this man is a secret softy at heart (refuses to admit it, because he’s a “big bad hunter”)

platonic cuddles/casual physical affection

dean is reserved with physical affection (im thinking post hell! dean) (earlier szns dean wouldn’t hold back tbh)

but once he’s comfortable with you (and is sure that you won’t leave him or sammy)

then it’s a free for all

swinging his arm over your shoulder, sharing a bed if there’s only two beds (sam seethes sometimes but this is way before you guys get together lol), resting his head in your lap during movie nights (starts off as a joke wanting to annoy you but then does it almost everytime you guys have one, loves when his hair is getting played with)

there’s def more but ill cut it off here (i love bestie dean but im also in love with him LOL) (the winchester brothers have a GRIP on me)

HELLO DAISYYYY HEHEHEHE this is amazing i'm so obsessed <33

cw : mentions of injuries, pet names obviously , dean is annoying ofc <3, sammy and reader like each other, swearing probably, alcohol mention, unedited! wc : 1.5K

⟢ ride or die : i mean yeah, this is pretty much undeniable. sure, sam will always be his first priority, but the moment he knows that you're a part of the team, no doubts, he's prepared to do just about anything for you. both fortunately and unfortunately, this does mean he gets really protective of you similarly to how he is with sam, especially if you're younger than him. and even if you're not, the fact that you're his best friend makes you family, and we know how dean feels about family <3

⟢ playful banter : this is basically just your whole friendship with him HAHA. not truly, of course, but mostly heh. like idk what else to say, he'll take any opportunity to tease you or make you fake angry because he just thinks it's too funny. and he'll love whatever way you respond to that. he definitely enjoys if you return his fire with your own teasing and retorts and i personally think you are so allowed to be mean to him because he's an idiot!! obviously don't be actually mean, but he enjoys having a teasing relationship where you can call each other stupid and know that the other means it with love lol.

when the two of you get into it, sam gets so annoyed. like you'll be arguing about the value of mustard on sandwiches and both of you are so invested in winning the argument and sam is like oh my god, dean please focus on the road and shut up, both of you😭😭 the boy is trying to sleep, he doesn't need this right now. so you either keep arguing in hushed tones (which doesn't last for long) or you pick it back up at another time (that's also probably inconvenient and annoying to sam still HA).

and yeah, dean can be very annoying and he loves to rile you up LOL. it's great when you reciprocate his banter, but sometimes he's just so ridiculous that it has you rolling your eyes and groaning in frustration. and unfortunately for you, that, or any other dramatic response, is exactly what dean is trying to get out of you. "dean, will you shut up?" is one of his favorites. he just laughs at you, he thinks the way you say it is so funny and cute.

he does other annoying things too, like rest his elbow on your head or shoulder if it reaches, he doesn't care if you're his same height, barely shorter, or significantly shorter, he's gonna make fun of your height. and if you're taller, yeah he's still gonna make fun of that, too. he'll playfully put his hand on the top of your head, just for the pure intention of annoying you. idk basically anything that annoys you, he does it (usually without going overboard, he knows where to draw the line).

and yeah, the flirting is more about annoying sam, but it's a total plus when you give him that look saying, "really, are you kidding me?" he'll love a good banter on that end of the spectrum too, if you're down for flirting back. unfortunately, this sends sam the wrong message for the longest time, but it's not your fault that you don't know that he likes you back! you're just playing around with dean heh.

⟢ pet names/nicknames : yes yes yes!! he absolutely has a nickname that is specific to you!! basically your version of "sammy." it might be a nickname based off of your given name, but it totally could be an inside joke, something silly and cute. it might even be a pet name that he uses for you exclusively. i can see him calling a younger best friend "pumpkin," mostly as another method of annoying you. that one is used pretty sparingly though because it's a little over the top for the both of you. he definitely uses it a lot less than whatever his main nickname for you is, which he uses just about all the time lol. if you have a nickname based off you name, sam probably uses that, too. so, dean likes having a separate nickname that he came up with which only he uses.

and yes! he does use pet names casually and occasionally, but he's far more likely to use them if you're having a bad day, if you were injured on a hunt, or something like that! i think maybe this is just because i'm obsessed with the time that dean called lisa honey once, but i think the idea of dean calling his best friend honey is really adorable. that one is used for maximum comfort, especially if you're injured <3 "c'mon, honey. keep your eyes open, you're okay." i can also see dean using baby platonically sometimes!

he does occasionally use over the top names like sugar plum or honey bunches to annoy you lol. he will "sweetheart" you in a teasing way because he loves the way it makes you fume LOL. but in special circumstances, he'll call you sweetheart sincerely (also more likely when you're injured—"you're alright, sweetheart, we're almost to the motel"). idk if this counts as a pet name, but he'll definitely call you kid and kiddo if you're younger than him like how he does with charlie <3 i see him using darlin' very casually! "alright, c'mon darlin', let's see what sammy found." casual pet names means he's in a good mood though. he also will use insults like pet names because you're his idiot best friend <33

he won't tell you this but he likes if you've got a nickname for him, too! but he will tease you if you try to use the same pet names for him, even if you're casual about it in the same way he is.

⟢ taking care of you on bad/sick days : uhm yeah, he tries not to be obvious about it, but when he goes the the store just to pick up your favorite treat or kisses your forehead like fifty billion times when he thinks you're asleep, there's no way you can miss what a big softie he is. if the way you wear your hair allows, he'll brush any stray strands out of your face, especially if you're sick and it's stuck to your face with with sweat. checks your temperature on your forehead with his hand <3 then if he thinks you have a fever, he busts out the thermometer and takes your temp that way just to make sure you don't have to go to the hospital. he brings you your meds and lovingly bothers you about eating enough food. makes you watch movies with him lol

on days that are simply just bad, well, he's horrible with emotions, but he knows that pie and alcohol can fix almost anything (this is not true, but it still helps you to have a treat and a drinking buddy). while he's bad with emotions, he is absolutely more than willing to listen to anything you need to talk about. he's not sure how to tell you that he's there for you out loud, so he'll pour you another drink if you're not too drunk and rub your back with a soft, but firm hand. his go to phrase to comfort you is, "we'll figure it out," and it works because you know he really means it, and he says it in a soft and sweet tone that's quite rare for him.

⟢ physical affection : he can definitely be more reserved sometimes with touch, but he welcomes any physical affection that you initiate. if you purposefully stand shoulder to shoulder, he'll put his arm around you, and he'll certainly accept any hugs you have to offer. like you said, once he's even more comfortable and confident in your being around, he's much more open about swinging an arm around your shoulder and any given moment (especially because he can shove you around a little that way lmao).

he's definitely okay with the bed sharing, mostly because it's a necessity, though he tries to get you to share with sam much more once he realizes that you like each other because he can see sam physically become upset when you share with dean lmao.

movie nights are prime time for physical affection with dean!! i definitely agree that he puts his head in your lap first to annoy you, but when you don't bat an eye and start running your fingers through his hair, he's done for. he always is trying to get you to do it again, every time you watch something together, and that's when it gets annoying lmao, because he won't let you rest your head on his shoulder anymore or let you be the one to put you head in his lap. he'll make an exception if you're having a bad though hah. once again, he will dial down the cuddles if he can tell that it's bothering sam, but will absolutely not give up the physical affection with you because he thinks sam needs to get over it LOL. because, at the end of the day!! you'll always be his best friend, and he will always respect you and your relationship with sammy.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x sibling!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x gn!reader #dean winchester platonic #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural platonic fic #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x best friend!reader #dean winchester #dean supernatural #. >> asks !#. >> mooties ౨ৎ !#. >> daisy ౨ৎ !#. >> dean ♥︎ !#. >> spn !

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