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doitforbangchan · 2 months

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All Bark and No Bite 08

Another early chapter to celebrate my birthday 🥳 i am now a 25 year old child 👧 please enjoy and let me know what you think 💕

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader, cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!)

Chapter Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, Hard dom! Chan, suggestive, kissing, dirty thoughts, cursing, fluff, mild dissociation, traditional gender roles, crying (as usual)

WC: 4.1k

MDNI 18+

Hyunjin could, in fact, carry you up two flights of stairs. Now you know better than to doubt his physical prowess. It seemed almost effortless to him to make the trek up with you on his back. The whole time he had you hoisted up you were able to see the muscles in his arms rippling.

It honestly made you see him in a different light. You had thought he was an attractive man- of course you did- but knowing how strong he was… It made you want to ravish him. See what other muscles he has hidden from you.

Good thing you were behind him or he would be able to see the gears turning in your mind and the flush in your cheeks.

He took you right to the closed door of your room. It was concealing whatever your ‘surprise’ was. Hyunjin gently set you down on your shaky legs, grabbing your hand once your feet touched the floor. He lifted your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss to your palm, then leaning in close as if he was going to kiss you. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, anticipating his next move. Instead he only kissed your cheek and whispered smugly, “Don't ever doubt me again, Baby.”

You had a look of ‘wtf’ on your face but he just ignored it, choosing to turn on his heels and head back down the steps.

Before he went down he turned to you one last time.

“Oh, the surprise is from Min.” With that he gave you a wink and descended the steps.

From Minho? That felt slightly odd to you. You had gotten a feeling the beta didn’t care for you much, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe it just took him a minute to warm up to someone. Either way you weren't going to dwell on it, he had gotten you a surprise after all.

Opening the door to your room you saw many bags sitting on your bed. Not just any bags, they were bags from Euns shop! Walking into your room and closer to the bags you noticed that there were many more than the 5 bags you had before your.. Mishap. There now appeared to be at least 10 bags.

‘Did Minho get me more clothes?’ You wondered, suddenly overcome with gratitude. While you loved wearing your alphas clothes it would be nice to have some of your own, especially after Chan had literally destroyed your original outfit. You looked through the items left for you, and half of them you definitely didn't pick, but you loved each thing he had grabbed for you. You had been so worried when you were shopping that you would spend too much money, that you didn’t get all the things you had wanted. Looks like Minho paid you great attention though because he had picked things you had desperately wanted. So many pretty dresses and sets. And lingerie?

Looking at the matching bra and panty sets you just knew there was a dark red blush on your cheeks. What was new though. There were also a few strappy numbers you would usually be way too shy to buy for yourself. It made you remember that you were expected to be shared amongst the pack.

‘Did Minho want to see me in these racy outfits?’ You might actually have a heart attack at the thought.

After looking through each bag you sped yourself down the stairs to find Minho. You went down to the second floor where you remembered his room being, finding the door open and him not there.

You did take a moment to peer inside, though. His room was decorated in deep purples, and had a thick shag rug that almost surrounded the entire room. The space felt very mature and had a lingering scent of the beta.

Your eyes were starting to close at the intense smell of him, a musky spice that was almost intoxicating. You snapped yourself out of it before you fell too deep into a subspace. No time for that you were on a mission! Next stop was the kitchen.

You barreled down the next flight of steps, almost tumbling a few times due to your still weak legs, and onto the main floor. You could hear a few soft voices coming from the living room but none sounded like the man you were after. There was a smell of something cooking coming from the kitchen, and when you stepped into the large room there was Minho. He was there stirring some vegetables on the stove.

He seemed to have heard you enter but before he could greet you, you launched yourself at him pulling him into a hug and smothering your face against his shirt. He seemed stunned for a moment- putting his hands in the air like he was afraid to touch you. It took him a second before he felt himself relax in your hold.

“Fank you fo the clofes” Your words were almost incoherent against him but he managed to understand. With one hand he patted your head while the other leaned past you and continued stirring the food he was preparing.

“You needed them. It’s no big deal.” He responded evenly, as if his heart wasn’t beating wildly.

You pulled back from him with those signature tears “No big deal? Of course it is! You went out of your way for me! And got me even more! I am so grateful to you Minho! I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness.”

He gave you a small smirk, “You know how you can thank me?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes, shaking your head no.

“Wipe those pretty tears off your face.” He responded with a small pat to your cheek before turning his attention back to the food.

You sniffled one more time before nodding and using your palms to wipe your face. It was then that your omega brain noticed he was cooking. That was your job!

“What are you doing?” You demanded. “I’m supposed to be cooking for you!” You then tried to shove him out of the way but he wasn’t budging. He was surprisingly sturdy. All he did was laugh in response.

Your lips curled into a pout and you crossed your arms angrily, giving him your best evil eye. It did not phase him at all, instead he just laughed again shaking his head and continuing to cook. You wouldn’t give in though! If the glare wouldn’t work you would try being sweet.

Unfolding your arms you clasped your hands out in front of you and gave him your best puppy dog pout.

“Please Min.” You stepped closer to him and rested your head against his shoulder. “It makes me feel useless if I can’t provide something for you guys.”

Minho felt himself tense up when you touched him again. For some reason your touch was making him nervous. That is until he registered your words.He turned to you with a sternness on his face.

“Don’t say that.” His voice was borderline harsh. You looked up at him shocked when you heard it. He continued a little softer after seeing your expression, “ You’re not useless, you provide enough”

‘Or you're going to start soon enough.’ He thought to himself.

“I like cooking, it's calming to me. If you really want we can split it up and I’ll let you make breakfasts and the occasional dinner.”

Your eyes shined at the prospect of being allowed to contribute, nodding your head rapidly. You would take anything you could get. “Yes! Thank you Minho!” You hugged him again quickly before skipping out of the kitchen, happy with the agreement.

The beta called out after you “Tell everyone 5 minutes til’ dinner!”

“You got it!”

Wandering back into the living room Felix and Jisung were still lazily strewn on the loveseat but now Changbin and Jeongin were also in there, the group playing Mario kart on the switch that was hooked up to the tv. You stood in the entryway for a moment watching them play.

It brought back memories of you playing games with your siblings, back when things were simpler. It felt like they were, anyway. You had a pretty normal childhood all things considered. You had a good relationship with your siblings, you had friends, you were doing well in school- fuck, you were even planning on going to college to become a zoologist. You were happy.

That all changed for you the second you turned 16, when you presented as an omega and had to forget about ever having a normal life.

You must have been stuck pretty far in your own mind because you didn’t hear Changbin calling your name until he touched your arm in concern.

“Huh?” You asked as you snapped out of it.

The alpha had a look of worry etched on his face, “You’ve been standing there in a daze for a few minutes, Baby. Are you ok?” His rough hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into it comfortingly.

You nodded, “Mmhmm. Sorry, just thinking.” Then you looked past him at everyone in the room, “Minho said dinner was about done.” As you said Changbins stomach let out a loud gurgle, causing the other boys present to burst into chuckles.

Changbin released your face with a wide grin, “Why didn’t you say so!” Then he cupped his hands over his mouth to project into the entire house.

“DINNER TIME EVERYONE!”

You giggled at his antics and everyone made their way into the dining room to enjoy a meal together.

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Dinner was a quieter affair, it seems like everyone was still mellowed out since the joint nap you all took, the tiredness still present. That's not to say it wasn't full of jokes, that will never stop. By the time you had all eaten and cleaned up it was now quite dark outside, the light completely disappearing behind the mountains.

Even though you slept away most of the day you could still feel the drowsiness behind your eyes. You were sitting in Chan's lap with your head resting against his chest while he joked with the other guys, the tv on in the background but no one was paying any attention to it.

Your alpha had his hand on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into your warm skin. He could sense you slipping away every now and again, and had decided it was time to take you to bed. You had a big day tomorrow, anyways.

“Are you ready for bed, omega?” He whispered against your hair, placing a kiss there.

You gave him a slow nod, “Mmhmm.” He scooped you up into his arms and stood from where you were both seated on the recliner.

“Say goodnight to the boys, baby.”

You lightly lifted your hand and gave them a wave, “Goodnight boys.”

“Goodnight, Baby!” They chorused, with Jisung adding in a little “I’ll miss you!” there at the end.

The tired giggle you let out almost made their hearts stop beating. It was so cute. “Miss you too Ji.”

Chan carried you up the stairs and into his room where he set you gently in his bed. You immediately nuzzled yourself into his comforter. He spoke softly to you, “Before you fall asleep there's something we have to talk about, Baby.”

There was a sudden inkling of anxiety in your stomach. Have you done something wrong? Were you being too much? What if he- You were brought out of your thoughts by Chan placing a chaste kiss on your mouth.

“I can almost see your brain running a million miles an hour, nothing is wrong Omega.” You felt yourself relax at his reassurance. “I was actually going to check in with you, about how you are feeling about the pack. And about what we had discussed a few days ago.” His hands were back on your thighs, the heat of his strong hands igniting something inside of you. “The other boys are quite fond of you, you know that baby?” He was staring deep into your eyes, smirking as if he could see how his hands were making you feel.

“I-I like them too.” You stuttered. you kept your answer vague, scared if you revealed how they make you truly feel it would upset the Alpha.

He hummed, his hands hiking up even higher-inching closer and closer to your core. He paused his movements, “ How much do you like them, my love? Do you like them enough to let them touch you like this?”

You were apprehensive to answer him, so he pressed further. “You know, if you're worried I’d be mad or jealous, that’s not something you have to be concerned about. In fact, I would prefer it if you wanted them like they want you.” He smirked at the hitch in your breath.

“And how do they want me, Alpha?” The words were almost a whisper as they left you, your tone breathy.

Chan let out a purr, “ They want you in all the ways I do.” His hands inched up ever closer but still not reaching. He leaned in close, his mouth almost on yours.

“Will you let them have you? Will you be a good omega and please your pack?”

The hesitancy was gone from you as you rapidly nodded at his questions, desperate for him.

“Yes Alpha. They can have all of me. Whatever they want I will give to them.”

“Good girl.” He praised, slotting his mouth over yours and finally letting his fingers find your core. The rough pads of his fingertips lightly rubbed over your (his) underwear, feeling the accumulating wetness that was making a dark spot. You let out a stuttering moan at his touch, hips instinctually raising to meet the touch.

He hummed, grinning devilishly “ Does my sweet omega like that?” He pressed harder against your pussy, pushing the fabric between your folds.

Nodding quickly you responded “Yes Alpha.”

Chan then placed his lips back on yours, his hand pulling away and finding the band of the underwear. He hooked his thumbs under each side and slowly dragged the garment down your thighs, his tongue running along the inside of your lips begging for entrance. You gave it to him gladly.

Once he had completely pulled the boxers from you he pulled his lips back slightly, still touching but not kissing. “You’re still too sore to take me, but I just have to reward my baby for being such a good girl.” His lips starting trailing wet kisses down your throat and continuing down your stomach where he lifted his shirt to reveal your breasts to him.

You were squirming in at his touch, eager to feel his mouth on you where you needed him most.

The alpha settled himself between your legs, spreading your thighs to make room for him. You were absolutely leaking. The crystalline liquid drips out of you causing the room to fill with the scent of you.

“Who made you like this, Baby?” He asked in between sloppy kisses to your thighs.

“Yo-you did, alpha.” You responded, panting in anticipation.

“Hmmm just me?” His eyes found yours, as if challenging your words. “ Are you sure about that?”

You paused, trying to find an answer. “Umm..”

He nipped at your soft thigh skin, leaving a red mark in his wake. “ You can be honest with me, omega. Have you thought about any of the other boys this way? Thought about any of them putting their mouths on your wet little pussy?” His tongue stuck out and he gave your clit a teasing lick.

“Alpha please.” There was no way you could answer that. You were too mortified at the prospect.

He growled at your avoidance “ Answer me, omega. You will get nothing if you don’t tell me what I want to hear. Do you think about them eating you like this?” He gave you another bite on the opposite side.

“Yes!” You couldn’t take it anymore. Morals be damned. “Yes, Alpha I have. m’ sorry!” Hands gripping the sheets below you.

At your honesty Chan licked a long strip starting at your hole up to your clit. The moan you let out was otherworldly, your hands finding his dark hair and yanking on the strands.

You tasted divine. Like the sweetest nectar from the ripest fruits. Chan felt his eyes roll to the back of his head at the taste.

“Please, alpha.” You begged, wanting- needing - to feel him again. At your pleads he dove into you, his tongue shoving its way into you looking for more of your sweetness. His lips found the little bundle of nerves and wrapped around it giving it a harsh suck.

“FUCK!” You bucked your hips, shoving him further into your pussy.

In retaliation he nipped at your clit and let out a deep growl, a glare in his eyes as they found yours. “Stay still or I will stop and leave you here with nothing. Do you understand me?”

You let out a quiet “Mmhmm” and his fingers came up to replace his mouth, rubbing tight circles on you.

“Tell me who you’ve thought about this with, baby?”

Your own hands left his hair and covered your face in embarrassment. “I can’t. It’s too much.”

Chans other hand that wasn't on your core reached up and roughly yanked your hands from your face, him now gripping the underside of your chin to turn your head to face him. Your eyes now locked on his as if he was seeing into your soul looking for answers.

“You will tell me, omega.” He was using an alpha command on you, since you were bonded to him you couldn’t refuse no matter how much you wanted too.

“Jisung.” You cried. “Was t-thinking about it earlier, Alpha.” More slick was leaking out of you at your admittance. This display of dominance shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

Chan gave you that predatory grin, pleased with your answer. “Sungie huh? How did

I know it was gonna be him. Good omega.”

He returned his mouth to you, this time with renewed vigor. His finger found its way inside of you, rubbing your walls with the calloused digit while his lips sucked you into the next dimension.

You were squealing and moaning, unable to contain the animalistic sounds that escaped you. The knot in your stomach was starting to form, all you needed was one push and you would be a goner. As if he could sense it, Chan slipped another finger inside of you causing you to topple over the edge.

You came with a long drawn out moan, Chan not letting up for even a second until your convulsions ceased. He wanted to drain you dry and that's what he had done.

Once you stopped shaking and were finally able to catch your breath Chan pulled away from you- his face soaked with your essence. “You taste so good, omega.” His fingers slipped out of you and he lifted them to your mouth. “Go on, taste yourself.” He urged. Your mouth opened wide enough for him to stick the digits in. Your tongue swirled around them, collecting the wetness. He couldn't help himself, he shoved his fingers further down your throat holding them there while you gagged around him. You didn’t fight him though, and just let him do whatever he pleased with you, like the good little doll you were.

Chan pressed a sweet peck to your stomach before removing his fingers from your mouth and crawling up to be face to face with you. When he was at eye level you grabbed him forcefully, connecting your lips with him and tasting more of your juices that lingered on his mouth.

He was the first to pull away after a few seconds, nuzzling your noses together and just breathing each other in.

“You did so good for me, baby. Thank you for being honest with me.” He was running his hands softly along your sides.

“You’re welcome alpha.” You responded quietly. “You’re not mad are you?”

He would have scoffed if you weren't so fragile right now.

“No baby of course not. It makes me happy you want him like that.”

Your shining eyes looked hopeful, “It does?”

“Mmm yes baby. You are theirs just as you are mine. Soon you’ll come to see it that way too.” You nodded at his words, the exhaustion now taking over. “Let's get you tucked in. You have a big day tomorrow. We have a few things to do in town tomorrow.” You nodded once more and let him tuck you in under his blankets. He placed a delicate smooch on your lips then forehead, and you were out like a light.

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Once you were asleep Chan sent a group text for a pack meeting out on the back patio. It was a warm night and he didn’t need you snooping in on this conversation if you were to wake up. He watched you slumber for a moment, taking in your peaceful features. He really did feel so lucky to have you. Everyday you proved yourself to be his dream girl.

He gave it another moment then made his way down the steps and outside where the other members were waiting for him, lounging on the outside furniture.A few of them gave the elder sly smiles, they could all hear exactly what the alpha had just been doing with you. Chan just rolled his eyes and smirked at their looks.

Chan took a seat on the ottoman by the sliding door, “Alright, I was wondering if anyone had any more problems we need to work through.” He scanned everyone's faces, “ I know it hasn’t been the smoothest of sailing the last few days but I think from here on out it will be better for everyone.” There were nods of agreement at his words.

Changbin was the first to speak, “How is she settling in? I hope we haven't been too.. Abrasive.”

Seungmin snorted, “That's rich coming from you.”

The alpha looked at him incredulously, “I am not that bad! Not as bad as your other fellow betas!” and pointed to Felix, Jisung and Hyunjin who all looked at him in disbelief at being called out.

“Hey, that's not fair! We’re a sensitive bunch and she's a sensitive girl! She needs us!” Hyunjin protested, the other two nodding furiously in agreement.

“Yeah she likes our kisses!” Jisung chimed in, then looked to Chan for confirmation. “Right hyung?”

“That’s another reason I wanted to call you all out here. Turns out she’s not as innocent as she lets on. She’s been having quite naughty thoughts about you boys.” Chan's smirk never left his face as he spoke. He watched each one of them have a reaction at his words.

Jeongin sputtered out “Is-is that okay with you Chan?” He was nervous his leader would change his mind and now be mad about it.

“Oh more than ok Innie.” Chan reassured him. “I have a feeling soon enough our little omega is going to be pretty insatiable and to be honest it would be a lot easier for me to have others to help take care of her needs. I mean, fuck, especially during her next heat it will be nice to have some help. My dick is still raw from that little minx.”

There was a collective groan at the prospect. They would have given anything to be there for the first one.

“While we’re talking about it there are a few things i want to discuss. As far as a claiming bite goes, it would be ok with me if you did bite her. Just not on the neck. And no cumming in her until we get her on some non-harmful birth control. I’d like to have time with her before we bring kids into the equation.”

They all nodded in understanding, agreeing with the alpha.

“Has she said who she's thought about, Channie?” Felix questioned with a dark flush on his face.

Chan tosses his head back and forth as if pondering the question, before answering teasingly “I may have gotten one out of her.” The beta looked hopeful. “Buuuuut I think I’ll let you guys figure it out.”

Felix pouted, crossing his arms. Minho was sat next to him and pinched his cheek, cooing at the younger beta.

“Aww lixie don’t pout. You know it's probably you.”

The red in Felixs’ cheeks darkened even more as he smacked Minhos hand away.

“I think it’s me!” Changbin boasted

“Nah, you should have seen her face after I carried her up the stairs earlier. Gotta be me.” Hyunjin said convincingly.

The boys just went back and forth, all trying to figure out who is the first one to catch your attention, not knowing it was literally all of them.

It was pure entertainment for Chan and Minho as they watched the others bicker.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

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mariacallous · 5 months

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The great fault of the global left is not that it supports Hamas. For how could Western left-wing movements or left-inclining charities or academic bodies truly support Hamas if they were serious about their politics?

No one outside the most reactionary quarters of Islam shares Hamas’s aim of forcing the peoples of the world to accept “the sovereignty of Islam” or face “carnage, displacement and terror” if they refuse. You cannot be a progressive and campaign for a state that executes gay men. An American left, which includes in its ranks the Queers for Palestine campaign group, cannot seriously endorse lethal homophobia in its own country. They will turn a blind eye in Palestine, as we shall see, but not in New York or Chicago.

Finally, no left organisation proudly honours the Protocols of the Elders of Zion and the fascist tradition that Hamas embraces with such sinister gusto, although in a sign of a decay that has been building on the left for more than a generation, many will promulgate left-wing conspiracy theories which are as insane as their fascist counterparts.

No, the problem with the global left is that it is not serious about politics. It “fellow travels” with radical Islam rather than supports it. The concept of “fellow travelling,” with its suggestions of tourism, dilettantism, and privilege, is well worth reviving. The phrase comes from the Bolsheviks. After the Russian Revolution of 1917 they looked with appreciation on Westerners who supported them without ever endorsing communism. Artists, writers, and academics who were disgusted with the West, often for good reason, I should add, were quite happy to justify Soviet communism and cover up its crimes without ever becoming communists themselves.

Leon Trotsky put it best when he said of fellow travellers that the question was always “how far would they go”? As long as they did not have live under the control of communists in the 1920s or the control of Islamists in the 2020s, the answer appears to be: a very long way indeed

W.H. Auden said, as he looked back with some contempt on his fellow travelling past, if Britain or the United States or any country he and his friends knew were taken over by a “successful communist revolution with the same phenomena of terror, purges, censorship etc., we would have screamed our heads off”. But as communism happened in backward Russia “a semi-barbarous country which had experienced neither the Renaissance nor the Enlightenment”, they could ignore its crimes in the interests of seeing the capitalist enemy defeated.

You see the same pattern of lies and indulgence in the case of Hamas. Journalists have produced a multitude of examples of fellow travelling since 7 October but let one meeting of the Oakland City Council in the Bay area of San Francisco speak for them all.

A council member wanted the council to pass a motion that condemned the killings and hostage-taking by Hamas, who, in case we forget, prompted the war that has devastated Gaza, by massacring Israeli civilians. The motion got nowhere

According to one speaker Hamas did not massacre anyone, a modern variant of Holocaust denial that is becoming endemic. “There have not been beheadings of babies and rapings,” a woman said at the meeting. “Israel murdered their own people on October 7.” Another woman said that calling Hamas a terrorist organization is “ridiculous, racist and plays into the genocidal propaganda that is flooding our media.” Hamas was the “armed wing of the unified Palestinian resistance” , said a third who clearly had no knowledge of the civil war between Hamas and Fatah.

“To condemn Hamas was very anti-Arab racist” cried a fourth. The meeting returned to modern Holocaust denial as a new speaker said the Israeli Defence Forces had murdered their own people and it was “bald propaganda” to suggest otherwise. A man intervened to shout that “to hear them complain about Hamas violence is like listening to a wifebeater complain when his wife finally stands up and fights back”.

Anyone who contradicted him was a “white supremacist.”

Of course they were.

Now if theocrats were to establish an Islamist tyranny in the Bay area, I am sure every single speaker would scream their heads off, as Auden predicted. They can turn into fellow travellers as there is no more of a prospect of theocracy threatening them than there was of communism threatening readers of the left-wing press in the UK and US in the 1930s.

A serious left would have plenty to complain about. Consider the Israeli position after the breakdown of the ceasefire. The Israeli state is led by Benjamin Netanyahu, a catastrophe of a prime minister, who left his people exposed to the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. His war aims are contradictory: you cannot both wipe out Hamas and free the hostages.

Worst of all, the Israeli defence forces are to move to the southern Gaza strip where two million Palestinians are crammed. Just war doctrine holds that a military action must have a reasonable chance of success if the suffering is to be permitted. How, reasonably, can the Israeli army expect to find guerilla fighters hiding in a terrified population? According to leaks in the Israeli media, Anthony Blinken, the US Secretary of state, was warning the Israeli government that, “You can’t operate in southern Gaza in the way you did in the north. There are two million Palestinians there.” But he was ignored. A radical movement worth having would surely be putting pressure on the Biden administration to force Israel to listen to its concerns.

The radical movement we have will not engage in practical politics because compromise is anathema to it. Any honest account of the war would have to admit that Israel has the right to defend itself against attack. It is just that the military position it finds itself in now may well make its war aims impossible and therefore immoral.

You can see why practical politics has no appeal. Where is the violent satisfaction in sober analysis, the drama in compromise? Where is the Manichean distinction between the absolute good of the Palestinians and the pure evil of Israel?

Meanwhile, ever since the Israeli victory in the Six Day War of 1967, you have been able to say that Jewish settler sites on the West Bank were placed there deliberately to make a peace settlement impossible, and ensure that Israel controlled all the territory from “the river to the sea” forever.

A serious left might try to revive a two-state solution by building an international consensus that the settlements must go. Once again, however, that is too tame an aim. For the fellow traveller watching Palestine from a safe distance, satisfaction comes only by embracing Hamas’s call for the destruction of Israel. Some progressives try to dress up the urge to destroy by pretending that Jews and Palestinians will go on to live together in some happy-clappy, multi-ethnic and multi-confessional state. But most must know they are advocating a war to the death. What makes their position so disreputable is that, if they thought about it calmly, they would know it would be a war that only Israel could win. It is the Israelis who have the nuclear weapons, after all.

The worst of the global left is dilettantish. It advocates a maximalist position which has a minimal chance of success - just for the thrill of it. David Caute, a historian of fellow travelling with Stalin and communism said that the endorsement of communism by fellow travelling intellectuals in the West “deepened the despair” of Soviet intellectuals. “In their darkest hours they heard themselves condemned by their own kind”.

The 2020s are not the 1930s. I am sure that, if I were a Palestinian in Gaza, my sole concern would be the removal of Israeli forces that threatened me and my family. I would either not care about demonstrations in the West or I would receive some comfort from the knowledge that people all over the world were protesting on my behalf.

Nevertheless, a kind of betrayal is still at work. By inflaming and amplifying the worst elements in Palestine the global left is giving comfort to the worst elements in Israel, which are equally determined to make a compromise impossible.

The New Statesman made that point well when it ran a piece by Celeste Marcus. She came from the Zionist far right, and was taught doctrines that dehumanised Palestinians. She grew up and grew away from the prejudices of her childhood and became a liberal. But after she moved into her new world, she “recognised immediately that progressive leftists feel about Israelis the way radical Zionists feel about Palestinians: these are not real people.”

The result is that for all its power on the streets and in academia the global left is almost an irrelevance.

“To influence Israel,” she writes, “one must be willing to recognise it. Since leftist leaders cannot bother to do this, they cannot be of real use to Palestinians. This is a betrayal of their own cause.”

The dilettantism of fellow travelling always ends in betrayal and denial for the reason Auden gave: terror is always more tolerable when it happens far, far away.

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mysterystarz · 16 days

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kiss me maybe:

summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)

genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours

warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread

a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented

It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical.

Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling.

To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish.

Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories.

And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.

Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography.

Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!)

“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression.

Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury.

“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”

“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.”

You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment.

Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction.

For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works.

“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place.

“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”

“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.”

“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”

“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision.

There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer.

“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you.

“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle.

He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm.

“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.”

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”

“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke.

“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.”

You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.”

The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze.

However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.

Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down.

Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat.

The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place.

“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.”

“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?”

“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door.

The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.”

The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation.

“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually.

“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!”

With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name.

Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing.

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice.

“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits.

Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door.

“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.

“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you.

The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big.

“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere.

“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad.

“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.”

“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed.

“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.”

“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.”

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”

“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”

You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you.

You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in.

“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!”

You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too.

The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks.

When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime.

“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?”

“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.”

For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake.

Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash.

In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on.

“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.”

“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.”

Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable.

A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside.

Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake.

This sucked ass.

You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along.

Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering, you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when.

The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake.

You could almost call it picturesque.

You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed.

The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you.

They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk.

“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did. “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.”

“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.”

“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.”

Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again.

His presence had a way of putting you at ease.

The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.

The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you.

High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much.

You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings.

What could be more human than that?

Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent.

“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.”

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations.

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better.

You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space.

Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness.

When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours.

Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out.

A grand gym and an even grander boy.

You just avoided him after that.

“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit.

To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.

“Yeah, water under the bridge.”

“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”

“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation.

“Well-“

“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.”

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?”

You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you.

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards.

“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.”

You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping.

“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”

Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion.

Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?”

“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”

“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.”

“We always love the extra coverage.”

“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”

“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was.

“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.”

“Not true.” He huffed.

“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.”

People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager.

Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with.

“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.”

Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.”

He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?”

Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.”

“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”

“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.”

As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too.

As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean.

Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends.

You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky.

How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset.

“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings.

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition.

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it.

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.”

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit.

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?”

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.”

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open.

You weren’t sure what to say.

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret.

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine.

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity.

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru.

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face.

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression.

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.”

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees.

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.”

“It’s been here…?”

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.”

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?”

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.”

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.”

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.”

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.”

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.”

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.”

“Mean. But seriously, why?”

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless.

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him.

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin.

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.”

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over.

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.”

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually.

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to.

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.”

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.”

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face.

The way he looked at you now was like worship.

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think.

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?”

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours.

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips.

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt.

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you.

The way he held you was reverent.

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much.

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots.

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up.

He didn’t kiss and tell after all.

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.”

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could.

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.”

“Am I not allowed to have good days?”

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?”

“With my sets, yes.”

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.”

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking.

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight.

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him.

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could.

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through.

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride.

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning.

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?”

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.”

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life.

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness.

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness.

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!”

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.”

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you.

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through.

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.”

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?”

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.”

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in.

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully).

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.”

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously.

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.”

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together.

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.”

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.”

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.”

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?”

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her.

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty.

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur.

“When?”

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you.

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly.

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.”

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing.

“Shush.”

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house.

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.”

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did.

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.”

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold.

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.”

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?”

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.”

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest.

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like.

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out.

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.”

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing.

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag.

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever).

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth.

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.”

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside.

“Wow. How did you know about the name?”

“I have my sources,” you winked.

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.”

“So you do know.”

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.”

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you.

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.”

“We don’t have to right now.”

“Thanks Tooru.”

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.”

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?”

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.”

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes.

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance.

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.”

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.”

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.”

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.”

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty.

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively.

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response.

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.”

Correction: something was horrifically wrong.

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.”

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to.

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment.

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?”

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet.

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.”

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.”

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.”

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant.

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus.

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled.

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame.

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been.

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.”

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?”

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.”

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?”

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.”

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room.

“Je suis fâché.”

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.”

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?”

“Je ne veux pas continuer.”

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again.

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now.

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move.

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air.

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth.

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?”

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.”

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.”

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.”

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?”

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you.

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you.

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours.

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this.

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid.

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall.

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point.

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him).

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.”

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up.

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.”

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react.

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it.

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.”

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance. I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.”

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?”

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad.

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?”

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling.

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.”

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile.

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?”

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today.

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign.

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually.

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths.

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop.

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!”

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!”

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands.

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations.

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit).

“This is pretty amazing, huh?”

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.”

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?”

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.”

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.”

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?”

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure.

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.”

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool.

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week.

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you.

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself.

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa?

You weren’t sure.

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass.

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit.

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.”

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money.

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.”

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.”

You snickered. “Not a chance.”

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.”

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row.

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later.

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line.

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?”

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.”

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in.

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands.

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene.

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today.

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range.

This was intriguing.

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding.

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!”

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.”

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye.

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.”

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand.

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable.

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line.

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line.

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered.

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?”

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.”

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra.

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.”

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand.

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple.

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress.

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said.

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.”

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins.

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him.

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss.

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you.

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them.

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was.

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands.

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession.

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections.

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe.

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

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harrysonlylover · 7 months

Text

Hidden Actions (Mechanic Harry Part 5)

Summary: The magic from Prince Charming’s kiss did not last long. Will the past follow up with Y/n and Harry?

Wc: 8.5k

Warnings: Discussion about feelings, insecurities, self criticism, mentions of alcohol consumption , child neglect,social anxiety and struggling with fitting in.

A/n: Thank you for being so patient, i adore every single one of you. I hope this part pleases you ( I suggest that you revisit part 4 prior to reading this)

Mechanic H Masterlist

The mystery of our actions remains to be the most taunting dilemma that we must face every now and then. For some, it’s everyday while others barely encounter it once in their lives.

They are the lucky ones, immune against the torture of their brain with no time spared to rethink what they have done or even question its validity. Psychology can explain hundreds of actions whether the motive be fear, irrationality, bravery, stupidity, anxiety…

Though it is a great science, it can only go as far as objective feelings that no one bats an eye when spoken of. Psychology steps away when love interferes.

It is no secret that love is nothing but a chemical reaction in the human brain, merely another feeling that blinds us, but centuries of poems and prose, martyrs in the name of love, and letters scattered around oceans in glass bottles tend to disagree.

Love is what makes us act in hideous or gentle ways. Love is the main source, and everything else follows. The idiocy, irrationality, worry, hurt, happiness, peace of mind, calmness. Perhaps it is safe to say that Psychology’s enemy is love.

It is so silly to think that everything we dwell on or makes us giddy is due to a chemical reaction. Even the brain itself can barely function despite being responsible when the heart steps in.

Do we ever know or realize what we are doing?

Harry would like to believe that he does or so he’s convinced himself for a long time.

“Why don’t you visit us anymore?”

“Harry pick up the phone.”

“Don’t be like every other man and only speak to women for fucking”

“Why do you get so angry for nothing?”

Random questions or thoughts that have been spewed at him by strangers and even close ones. He’d like to think that they enter one ear and leave the other but with time, they resided inside of him and shaped themselves in the form of self-hatred.

He goes on with his life, never questioning anything until his brain gets tired and scolds him as his heart takes control. For the first time in human psychology, the heart leads the brain.

“Why let your lips part from hers and agonize her this way?”

The pondering kept him up at night, tossing and turning, not allowing any form of herbs to lull him to sleep. In his daily routine, when he’s fixing cars, going for a run, and cooking. Not even the loud sound of his Vinyls overpowered the sound of his thoughts.

But Harry has learned how to tame his feelings, how to shut unwanted emotions down in the abyss of his brain. He will continue to do so because after all we are only humans and there is no such thing as love.

Love is another card we pick only to lose all the others and pay the price.

The feeling of being unwanted has chased you your entire life like a shadow with a tight grip on your back. The laughter of other girls at you when you asked if you could hang out with them, the mocking of boys when you thought one of them liked you, or the teachers at school that said you were a lost hope.

A feeling that became a part of you, with nowhere to go as it continues to torture you whenever it likes. You’re not even sure what being loved feels like, there are days when the kind smile or compliment of a stranger creates sparkles in your heart and others where their rudeness or stares make you feel like an 8-year-old girl again whose friends stop talking when she arrives.

Time doesn’t heal, it molds the feelings and brings them out in different ways when you are unguarded and expect them the least. You’ve always wondered if immortal beings exist, not for the fun of it but to know if they have to live with old wounds for the end of time.

The only real friends you ever had were Mia and Lee, they took you under their wing in college and never parted from you ever since. They always sensed the apprehension in your attitude and knew how careful you were with friendships but managed to reassure you in their own way.

You haven’t seen them since you moved here but you call them from time to time and update them on your life. It is not the loneliness that you hate, it is the torturous thoughts you have at night or even in broad daylight of being unwanted.

To love dearly and be loved back is something you never got to delight in and it’s okay, maybe you were sent on Earth to give love but never receive it.

You knew from a young age that fairytales in books were only for daydreamers, Prince Charming may never come. In fact, Prince Charming in real life lies to you, plays games, pretends to like you, or doesn’t care to show interest if you are not up to his standards.

The only man you ever found so close to Prince Charming was Harry.

He had an aura about him that made him a mysterious prince, the one mothers warn their daughters about, but when you look closely, you’d realize that he is nothing but another prince simple and tender but in his own world.

It’s been merely over a week since he drove you to your job interview, the breeze from the road trip still lingers, as so does his hand on your waist and lips on yours. You try to remember how it felt, your surroundings at the time, the cherry and cigarettes taste, his curls tickling your face, and his hunger.

The sparkles he lit inside your body felt like fireworks on New Year’s, a ray of warm sunshine in winter, picking random chocolate only to find out that it’s your favorite, fallen petals on your hair as you walk beneath a blossoming tree and street cats rubbing on your ankle.

It was otherworldly and hiding your blush was useless, you didn’t even feel like hiding it. You wanted him to know. “Your kiss did this to me and I don’t want to stop smiling. Can we kiss again?”

Perhaps you are trying to recall the moment to avoid thinking of what followed. It was a joy to go to bed that night, seeing how much your life had changed in a few months, from getting a new remote job to having Harry kiss you.

But it all evaporated in the upcoming week.

You clocked into Harry’s garage earlier than usual with a plate of pancakes and strawberry jam in your hand. You couldn’t roll your lips without thinking about his own, they fit so perfectly like a puzzle piece you thought you’d never find.

In My Life by The Beatles filled Harry’s space with a good vibe as he was already working on Meena. You stood frozen in front of his shop, unsure of your next action like a young schoolgirl. The pancake dish was warm and uncomfortable in your hand, It was probably for the best to just go in as always but you’re not sure how you developed the giddiness feeling so fast.

Harry seemed to be stuck in his own world, you wondered what he thought of, whether it be about what to cook for lunch or what the best movie in Hollywood is. There are some things that he revealed by himself, yet you feel like you barely know him.

You hated it when the other person had you memorized like the back of their palm while you needed to pull out the information from them discreetly. It didn’t make you feel good, in the bigger picture it is nothing but a preference to be closed off from the other person. But in your own thoughts, that meant you were easy to decode and a simple dumb girl.

No one could barge in on someone else and ask them to talk about themselves, it is your own fault that you’re a bit chatty as well. Most of the time you feel like you are deceiving yourself, why would you consider yourself to be shy yet talk someone’s ear off when they show you the faintest hint of kindness?

You don’t realize what you are doing until the other person sighs or groans, there were times when you muttered a low ‘sorry’ under your breath and continued your day normally ignoring the clutch at your heart but not the voices that tell you you’re annoying.

What scares you about Harry is that he never did any of that, and although it should be something comforting, it sometimes keeps you up at night. What if he is secretly annoyed and doesn’t want to say anything? And what if he isn’t bothered at all? The latter thought scares you the most.

You didn’t realize how long you’ve been standing outside until the song on the Vinyl changed to ‘Here Comes The Sun’. You took a brave step forward and approached the table you always sit on. The strong smell of oil and metal filled your nostrils unlike the usual where hydrangeas would welcome you.

Harry still didn’t notice your arrival which made you uneasy as he would know when you are near miles away. He was too deep in his own train of thoughts, leaning over Meena and even though you couldn’t see his face but you know a pout is present on his lips.

You decided to clear your throat and mutter a low ‘Good Morning’. He didn’t turn his head immediately and it felt awkward to repeat it so you retaliated to your designated seat and removed the foil paper off the dish, you placed four pancakes in a new one and added a generous amount of strawberry jam over it with chopped bananas. It was the only way of saying thank you to him for driving you earlier last week.

You slowly approached him, making sure to not scare him off while working with dangerous materials, so you stood in front of him with a broad smile lowering the pancake dish to his level.

“I heard your Good Morning the first time” He growled in a snarky tone making you take a step backward and clutch onto the glass dish.

His attitude was something you’d never witnessed before and definitely not a thing anyone would do after a kiss. But you couldn’t possibly be so selfish as to dismiss the possibility of Harry having a bad day. For all you know, he may be stressed over personal things and a silly kiss isn’t an excuse for him to put on a smile for you. When our negative emotions get in the way, we don’t owe anyone an explanation and you can’t count the number of times you put on a brave face but with Harry, you assumed he wouldn’t do that.

To lie and pretend that his words did not feel like a knife going through your heart would do nothing good for both parties, he obviously wanted to be left alone so you wrapped up the food again and moved it aside where he could see it in case he got hungry.

The next few hours were weird. It was even more awkward than when you first began working for Harry. There were only a few appointments to schedule and not much to do. He didn’t allow you to clean up or organize anything, muttering things about messiness under his breath. You sat at your bar stool with your hands in your lap as you observed his cranky attitude and dismissive demeanor.

You hated it when someone was mad around you but especially when you were starting to get close with this someone. From the logical side, it is never your fault 90% of the time, and it probably isn’t in this case. But the anger of a person makes you feel small and guilty as if you were the reason for their fury.

Harry’s attitude was unexpected but again you couldn’t exactly think that way because he owes you nothing. The hours went by unbelievably slow, Recently you’ve ditched the company of books when you’re working knowing that Harry has become a better replacement but at least books don’t get mad.

You made a mental note to always keep any kind of book in your bag from now on ,as you readied your bike to leave with an attempt to ignore your grandfather’s car lying neglected behind the garage. You informed Harry that you were leaving to which he didn’t move a muscle before you glanced at the long-forgotten pancake dish, and hopped on your bike away from his store.

Harry’s jaw twitched as he clenched onto the nearest object he could find in front of him, making it graze the palm of his hand. He wanted to bang his head against the nearest wall and he was not sure if allowing himself to cry was the right thing to do. He caught a glass bottle near him and threw it across the concrete as he panted and tugged at his hair.

Why do we act the way we do?

‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ sat neglected on your bedside table, you can’t remember the last time you didn’t feel like reading. Now that you thought about it, you never encountered a reading slump, books were your safe place.

As you stared at the book cover, you wondered as to why you were feeling this way. Books were supposed to save you from whatever was going on in your life, they stretched out a helping hand and pulled you out of your pool of thoughts.

You can’t even grasp the book! You pinched the bridge of your nose, took a deep breath, and lied down on your back as you stared at the ceiling.

You didn’t want it to come down to this; to allow your feelings to win. You closed your eyes and recalled Harry’s actions earlier today, he was an enigma that fooled you by allowing you to believe that you could decode him.

He likes his solitude, that’s for sure. In the movies, the evil characters do not come in contact with anyone, they keep their distance and sometimes cause harm to others.

Harry was just awkward around others, he despised socializing, and given his history with the town when he first moved in, you can’t blame him. He wasn’t gentle towards you on many occasions including when you first met. He’s always grumpy and relaxes when music is on, he has certain mechanisms that he follows to avoid being angry around you, but he hasn’t been this disrespectful directly ever since you asked him to repair his car, it felt like ages ago considering how much your relationship with him has developed.

Now you’re back to Zero.

Even if he changed his attitude later on, it would feel awkward to bring up the kiss. Very awkward.

Raising your expectations is something that you keep repeating when you know damn well that you’ll end up being disappointed. You genuinely couldn’t help it when it came to Harry.

He wronged you— yes. But what about the other times?

Sticking with you during the race, bringing you to his house when he’s secretive, introducing you to his pet, cooking for you multiple times, driving you to your job interview, braiding your hair, offering you strawberries and dismissing your insecurities.

All of these were acts of kindness that assured you how soft he was deep down, he wasn’t a mean person, but he tends to be very complicated.

If that was just the case, you could back down immediately and force yourself to forget him, after all you got hired and you no longer have to tolerate working at his garage. What’s better than avoiding someone physically if you’re trying to forget them?

But he kissed you, and he got jealous when Niall flirted with you.

He stares for too long at your physique, leaves hair ties around the garage for your hair, extra strawberries in the refrigerator, suggests new music and you could’ve sworn you saw Pride & Prejudice laying around.

That damned kiss. His lips were almost stuck to yours like glue, you could feel his grin and smile during the kiss even now that you’re miles away. His face and labored breaths exposed his rough guard. He was waiting for it as much as you were.

So—Why?

You sighed heavily and covered your face with your hands despite being alone in your bedroom. The window was open and the evening breeze welcomed itself in followed by the sound of crickets.

You hate that you’re allowing this to get to you. It was perhaps a bad day for him yet you’re psychoanalyzing him like it’s your job. You have to admit that as a social worker, you never met anyone like him.

Despite everything, you’re getting sick of having to come up with excuses for him in your head or explanations for his attitude. You tried to put yourself in his position only to get more furious when you remember that you barely know him while he is aware of every little detail.

He even knows about your anxiety and tendency to overthink yet he still acts—

Here goes your train of thoughts again.

You were used to letting people to walk all over you, but none of them acted friendly after.

If you allow this to continue, then not only will you lose sleep but also your peace of mind which you craved ever since you arrived here. Everything has been a complete whirlwind, so as you shut your eyes to the feeling of the night breeze caressing your skin, you finally figure out how to deal with a complicated Prince Charming.

The next morning, something changed in the air.

You felt more care free as you went on with your morning routine. You even woke up earlier than usual thanks to the kisses from the sun that sneaked through the window.

There was a certain calmness that wrapped your body in an embrace and clung to it tightly. You hoped it would last forever.

You devoured a yummy Omelette and biked to the Library seeing as you have 45 minutes to spare before heading to the garage.

Ah yes, the garage.

This type of communication with you and Harry was simply not going to work, you knew what the safer choice was and it’s time to put yourself first for once in your life.

The library was empty as usual with only Kitty sitting in her chair. You returned ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ and went through many shelves until your eyes landed on ‘The Great Gatsby’.

You’ve read it before which is why you should grab it, perhaps it will terminate this stupid reading slump of yours.

Kitty’s eyes brightened as soon as you walked towards her. What a woman.

“Oh dear I didn’t expect you to be back so soon! Did you not enjoy Oscar Wilde’s work?” She questioned you with a curious glance.

“It’s not that… I just couldn’t bear to read it. It’s a weird feeling so I think this could help.” You pointed to ‘The Great Gatsby’ , tipping Kitty a light smile before handing it in to have it registered.

“It is indeed a bother darling. Don’t worry it’ll fly by and you won’t feel it.” She assured you while checking in your new book.

Despite feeling good, you weren’t up for any conversation even with Kitty so you glanced around the place to pass time.

Your eyes landed on a very familiar item around Kitty’s neck. You inched your face closer to make sure that you’re not mistaken.

“That’s a nice necklace.” You pointed out as you stared at the same necklace Uncle George gave to Harry for fixing. The same one you admired with him as you read the engraving on the back.

“Forever more our love will reign, even when the stars don’t align”

“Thank you! My husband gave it to me for our 35th Anniversary. Look it even has words engraved on the back.” You thought it was a simple and cute coincidence right until she flipped the back of the necklace showing the same words you cooed over.

Her husband?

“I didn’t know you were married.” You spoke calmly ignoring the weird feeling in your chest.

“You know me… I’m not a chatty person. But if you wish to meet him just pass by his shop! His name is George.”

The pieces began clicking inside your head. Uncle George was buying flowers for Kitty, he asked Harry to fix the necklace for her which explains why he’s close to the both of them.

It was normal information yet it sparked a foreign feeling in your chest. You always saw Kitty as an older version of you, but to find out that George is her husband, the same man Harry looks up to…

“Why a mini clock though?” You cleared your throat not paying attention to your panicked facial expression.

“Me and George went through a lot before we let down our guard… we were young and stubborn, so that meant lots of wasted time. Miscommunication is very tricky Y/n. Beware of it.” She spoke with both love and pain mirroring in her eyes. You stared back at her with a blank expression feeling shivers go through your body.

“Sorry I need to go.” You grabbed the book and walked away in hurried steps not paying attention to the warm knowing smile she shot at you.

You didn’t care much about being lucky or attracting good vibes, but whatever feeling you were blessed with in the morning was gone and you’d do anything to earn it back.

You could’ve avoided asking her all these questions, maybe pour your attention somewhere else but as of late it seemed like fate was playing games with you.

It was just normal information right? So what if they’re married!

‘Cemetery Gates’ by The Smiths pierced your ears as you stepped into the garage. You didn’t stay silent on purpose, the Kitty and George situation just took a huge portion of your interest.

Harry was cleaning some of his tools when you walked in, his back was turned to you but he knew.

He has the sound of of your bike memorized, not to mention the strong odor of Strawberries that enriched the air.

You didn’t say Good Morning.

He was a proper asshole yesterday and he isn’t surprised one bit that you chose to ignore him. He deserved it, besides it’s better this way.

The kiss was something irrational on his part, yet it felt so right. He needed to taste your lips or he would’ve become a mad man.

But now that he got a glimpse of what it feels like to have your lips on his—

You still didn’t utter a word but he won’t push you. He hates that it has to come down to this but it’s for the better.

You are too pure for him.

He sets all the tools back in their place, and takes off his rings to continue his work. His curiosity got the best of him as he raised his eye level to get just a small glance—

Your yellow sundress was right above your knee, hugging your body perfectly. Your hair cascaded down to your waist with two small braids secured with a flower hair clip. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the braids.

You were positioned on the chair you always sit in, but something was off about you.

You were staring straight ahead with your hand under your chin. Not checking appointments, nor reading. Your eyes didn’t catch his despite his shameless staring.

He was well aware of what kissing you meant, the hope it’d give you, and the emotions it’d show.

Even his attitude yesterday was unaccounted for, instead of expressing his anger toward himself, you took the blame. He’s allowed you to do that several times and he simply can’t let that happen again.

He never felt this nervous around someone before, not even when you laughed and took his worries away.

Your silence scared him.

The idea of confronting you made his body weak, he never learned how to do that properly hence why he’s a lonely bird.

Snowy didn’t require much talking, the little bun is simple to live with but he definitely had to deal with Harry’s rants.

Communication was not his best trait.

Growing up didn’t include happy memories for Harry. He had to provide for his sister and himself by working random jobs. He can’t even remember the amount of times he got himself in trouble or messed with the wrong people, yet most of the time they’d let him go. He was just a boy, barely fifteen.

His father was an alcoholic who didn’t play the role of a parent correctly. If he wasn’t passed out on the couch then he’d be out getting drunk at a cheap bar. It wasn’t until he and his sister were left without food for two days that he knew he had to step up.

He was a very anxious kid, he even flinched from the most delicate sounds, he was an easy target for bullies at school. His innocence was stolen away before it even developed.

When it came down to his baby sister, nothing else mattered. He didn’t mind being hungry or wearing dirty clothes but his chest ached when he witnessed other girls making fun of his sister.

Harry doesn’t understand the decisions he makes, but the only one he has an explanation for is searching for jobs at a young age. He placed all of his anxiety and troubles with stuttering aside to see his younger sister smile.

After that, he didn’t have time for thinking about his choices, he always did what was best for his sister and his desire to avoid emotionally charged situations.

He never realized that he let down his guard with you until he caught himself smiling around you. He would be cooking food and it would make him wonder if you liked the dish or not.

Feeding Snow Bun or plucking the strawberries from his garden never failed to remind him of you. Everything did, even if it wasn’t related. You’re his sweet shortcake that laughs like there’s no tomorrow, furrows her eyebrows when reading books and asks the silliest questions about car repair.

You will forever deserve someone as pure as you. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to say that. The only person he confided his feelings on was Uncle George, Harry had a very soft spot for that man who opened up and told him that he sees his younger self in him.

Harry’s aware that Uncle George disapproves of his treatment to you, but only because it was a mistake he once made. Harry never failed to listen to his advice intently but he simply can’t seem to reach this bliss that he always hears about.

The more his attitude worsens, the more he feels you pulling away from him.

He’s losing you, and that will be in your favor.

He felt unexpected joy upon your success in getting hired. He never doubted your talent nor abilities. He wanted you away from that stupid institute since day one but he didn’t lie about needing a helping hand.

He scared customers away with his manners and lack of coherent communication but you? You pulled them in.

He’s pretty sure that you didn’t notice but they were coming in like bees. Your voice was soothing when you spoke on the phone, asking them to describe their issue word by word before giving them a date and telling them to have a nice day.

His appointments used to clash together despite his affinity for being organized which caused a fuss for him, but everything is better now that you’re around. The scheduling notebook was filled with adorable drawings that he admires every morning.

He got too caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice how the song changed to ‘In The Woods Somewhere’ by Hozier. He was speechless upon seeing you in the same position after what seemed like ten minutes of being a hostage to his thoughts.

Should he approach you? Maybe ask if you’re okay? Then he remembered what he did yesterday and took a few steps backward.

He opened the hood of the car that’s waiting for him and dived right in as an attempt to silence his thoughts and forget about the sight of a frustrated shortcake.

It appears like you lost your ability to communicate as well.

It’s been over an hour since you arrived and all you did was stare at the empty road ahead, you could feel Harry working next to you but you didn’t spare him a glance.

What went down with Kitty was eating you up. You kept telling yourself that it was a normal coincidence so why do you feel nauseous? Why does it feel like your whole world is upside down? That there’s something you should do…

Everything that occurred around you was a blur. You didn’t feel in touch with reality until later in the afternoon when a customer stopped by. The words that came out of their mouth felt incoherent as you stared back at them with a blank expression. Harry took over the situation immediately without any questions.

You were aware of the presence of a book in your bag yet all you could do was sit in your chair and think. Harry’s prying eyes did not go unnoticed by you.

“I scheduled that man’s appointment.” He muttered with his back turned to you.

“Okay.” It was all you had to say before hopping on your bike and leaving with a tense Harry standing in his garage.

It didn’t take long for you to get caught up with other issues.

Your new boss sent an email with your job offer and contract for you to keep. When you laid your eyes upon the mail, your brain instantly thought of Harry and his soft lips. There is no possibility for you to ever forget that moment.

You still felt a bit distraught and shaken when it came to Kitty and George, it made you feel unsettled. Whenever you thought about it, it’d be a few minutes before a green eyed man crawled into your thoughts.

You’re still confused as to why the new information from Kitty bothered you but you’re more startled from your feelings toward Harry. Usually, you recall every word said between you and the other person who harmed you. Maybe even replay the scene in your mind for years to come, or feel its maim coming back in the form of a new person which happened many times with Harry.

You could dream of him, work with him, make eye contact or allow him to dominate your mind but you can’t feel anything.

It’s a scary situation.

You’re not angry, upset, or disappointed even though you should be. You’re numb when it came to him, and you’re not sure how or why.

Your crush on Harry started to form when you first met him, he’s an angel really. Many would disagree and correct you by saying “an angel with devilish intentions” but you know damn well that it is not true.

A huge debate is happening inside your brain every day. Harry is sweet, generous, pretty and kind but he’s also non expressive, cold, and tough.

He’s allowed to have bad traits right?

He is aware of your perceptions, yet he acts out.

He knows about your anxiety, yet he doesn’t explain his attitude.

He listens to all your rants, yet he doesn’t understand that he could be the reason behind them.

You still come down to the garage every day and thankfully avoid these thoughts while “working”. It is in the evening when they strike with sharpness, or simply when your fingers touch your lips and hair strands.

Sooner or later, you’ll need to quit working with him. You already started your new remote job and it’s taking up your time since you spend your mornings and mid afternoons at the garage. Most of the days, you stay up till midnight or after to keep up with the work you should be doing in the mornings.

But you’re being patient for the sake of readying yourself to tell him and face him. So you zip your mouth shut, and ignore the sting in your eyes from the lack of sleep as you await the right moment.

After all, you’re used to cutting small pieces of yourself for the comfort of others, and it is said that midnights welcome distraught thoughts…

“Hello Av.”

Harry’s voice echoed through the living room as he spoke into his phone.

He’s not a talkative person, nor the type to pick up his phone and spend hours chatting with someone, but in times of distress he knows who to call, and even then he barely speaks.

“Glad to know my brother is alive.” Her sarcasm had a painful undertone to it. He’s aware of how distant he’s become but he swears on the heavens that he can’t help it.

“Hm how are you?” Of course she’s well because he would never allow anything else.

“You know I’m the one who should be asking that.” Ava liked to lecture him, he’s the older brother but she’s wiser than him.

When it comes to emotions, she’s an open book. He is glad that she got this trait when he couldn’t. His whole purpose of protecting her years ago didn’t just revolve around the physical aspect. He believes that her emotional maturity and openness come as a reward for everything he sacrificed. His sister is the only good karma he ever experienced, but after you, he’s not so sure.

“I fucked up Av.” He breathed out after staying silent for a few minutes. She was used to his silence whether comfortable or not.

Despite his inability to open up, she had everything about him memorised. She was a bit shocked when he said that, partly because she instinctively knew that it’s about a partner and because he never mentioned meeting someone.

“How so?”

“I— It’s— I’m f—u—cking up things with a pu—re girl.” The shaking in his voice made her swallow down her throat, his stuttering alarmed her as he didn’t suffer from it since they were kids.

“Breathe H.” She’s not near him to calm him down and it breaks her heart because he’d travel across seas for her. She hoped that Snowy was near, he grounded Harry.

Harry rested his head against the wall, closed his eyes, breathed in and out for a few moments to muster up the courage he needed.

“I don’t know how to be normal Av. It’s so hard to keep driving people away.” His stuttering ceased but it didn’t erase the fact that he was hurting.

“There’s no such thing as normal.” She tried to help as much as she could, but she knew absolutely nothing about you. Not even your name.

“She never saw my birthmark.”

The silence on her part was loud.

“Oh.”

Harry was around twelve when a carnival stayed in their hometown for three months. Every night he waited for his father to pass out, before joining his hand with Ava’s and sneaking out to the carnival. Normally, kids would be drawn to rollercoasters, ponies, plushies and candies but Ava adored the area for psychedelics.

Harry caved at some point and walked around with her till they reached a fortune teller table. He doesn’t remember what she chatted with Ava about, but even though he did not speak to her directly, she did.

“Young man, Your soulmate will not notice your birth mark.” It had nothing to do with what she was discussing with his sister, and her smile was unsettling. At twelve, Harry had other things to worry about and his soulmate was not one of them.

Ava held on to that vision and teased him along the road. Surprisingly, his birth mark is the first thing everyone noticed about him, except you.

He’s not sure why he felt like he had to mention it, but it might explain more than talking about his idiocy.

“You can’t be true to her when you’re not true to yourself. Liking someone is complicated H. You are worth more than you know, you’re way too harsh on yourself. Did you try and ask her about how she feels?” She was good at giving advice. What kind of sister would she be if she didn’t help her brother out even when she’s clueless about his dilemma?

All she could hear was his heavy breathing as she awaited his answer.

“Snow Bun raided the fridge this morning…” He continued to talk about other mundane things that are irrelevant against his real issues. Whenever he did that, it was a silent cue for them to stop talking.

Harry deserved the world in her opinion, but he had already given it to her out selflessness and she’s sure he would do the same to you, only if he talked a bit more.

The following week was the most torturous period in Harry’s life, or so he thought.

He believed that his sister transmitted him some sort of invisible power he could use to behave normally around you.

But in reality, his words became jumbled whenever you were near. He had a tiny glimmer of hope that you would return to being yourself again.

He didn’t really think about what to do in case you continued with your abnormal behaviour, which you did.

Your Good Mornings never resumed and he found himself aching to witness the movement of your lips and hear the echo of your sweet voice.

He was not accustomed to being treated this way, he was now on the receiving end of the attitude he gave to other people.

You had every right to ignore him, but it pained him more than he thought it would.

He tried to play music that you might like and at some point he switched to a big cassette player just so he could put Swan Lake on (he didn’t find it on a Vinyl).

When the instrument caught your ear, you tilted your head slowly over your shoulder and were met with Harry whose back was turned to you but was trying to move his head to the side to catch your reaction.

There was nothing but uncomfortable silence between the two of you. As for appointments and schedules, he didn’t have to talk to you for that, he simply took a look at the journal.

He almost caved in and asked instead of checking the daily schedule, which would’ve made him look desperate but when he approached the table you sit at, you shifted your body towards the wall and placed your eyes on the book you pretended to read.

Your response confirmed nothing but the thoughts inside his head.

He will always drive people away.

If only both of you knew what was happening inside the other’s mind.

You were struggling as much as he was. You can’t figure out how to approach him and tell him that you want to leave.

His caution made you feel apprehensive, it was as if he always wanted to do or say something before backing off to a corner.

You shut down all sorts of communication with him because you didn’t want to hear his words of rejection coming straight out of his mouth.

“Sorry i mislead you…”

“I did it in the heat of the moment…”

“Look you’re a nice girl but…”

You imagined how it would go down and what he would say. You never understood how people can kiss each other and go back to living normally without addressing anything.

But it wasn’t just about the kiss. There were other moments that made you feel warm on the inside, and they were sometimes as tiny as eye contact followed by a wink.

You couldn’t bear having him pity you ,so you resorted to mechanisms that made sure you wouldn’t need direct communication with him.

You had breakfast before clocking in and brought home cooked food every single day. You missed having him cook you terribly but not on the account of being degraded.

Your hair was styled neatly to avoid fallen hair strands because as much as you adored the feeling of his knuckles brushing against your skin and his fingers going through your hair, you needed to stay away.

By the time Thursday rolled around Harry could not handle the situation any longer.

He didn’t mind if you shouted in his face, cried, blamed him or uttered the most awful words. He just wanted to see you in your element, as delicate as his hydrangeas adding sunshine to his life. But as usual, he was met with silence and casual work related sentences.

He was filled with an awful emotion that settled in his stomach, and despite his past experiences and ability to move on quickly from emotionally charged situations, he felt like throwing up every time he recalled the interactions with you.

In the evening, he made himself a cup of chamomile tea and rested on his yellow sofa with Snowy snug in his lap. He was encouraging himself to finish Pride & Prejudice so he could tell you about it.

Maybe then, you would respond and not give him a cold shoulder despite him deserving it, perhaps he would be graced with your smile that he was forbidden from or the glimmer in your eyes that he ached to see.

Maybe he wouldn’t lose you after all.

You found a way to resign from working with Harry.

It isn’t very appropriate, but it will do the trick. There’s nothing better than escaping unwanted situations, let alone an awkward one where you can’t handle looking into the other person’s eyes that make you so weak.

Harry does not work on Fridays, at least not directly. He cleans up the garage, his tools and goes over maintenance stuff but he doesn’t fix any cars. He spends around 2-3 hours before heading back to his house.

Although it wasn’t a requirement , you used to spend Fridays with him at the garage, he never objected but his eyes spoke words he never let out and as much as you hated concluding his feelings, you couldn’t say that he disliked your company.

Even if you changed the Vinyl without asking so you could dance, even if you played around with his organized tools and even if you crept into his life and turned it upside down that he could no longer breathe properly when you’re not around.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you looked down to the piece of paper that had your stomach in knots. As silly as it sounded, you wrote him a letter. You could’ve texted, called or even said it to his face but you started off the wrong foot and even though it slowly got better later on, your current situation was charged with weird energy that you didn’t feel like questioning.

Next to you over six crumpled papers lay, resembling your attempt at displaying unresolved emotions. Words could only convey so little.

Your most recent letter is being judged with your hesitant eyes that rake over every word hoping they would somehow move and carry themselves to Harry to accompany him till he’s right in front of you.

‘Harry, I know this may appear childish and inappropriate but if I were able to stomach another interaction I’d say it to your face. I can no longer work with you at the garage. It is a simple statement but it costed me my peace of mind. I always thought of you as an enigma, but I never imagined you would be this complicated. When we first met I couldn’t divert my eyes from you, you’re a very pretty man with an even prettier heart but you waste so much time on looking for the gaps. It is no secret that I like you very much, there is around six letters crumpled next to this one and there will be even more if I tried to describe how kissing you felt like. You helped me more than you could ever imagine, and thanks to you I am capable of resigning and working in a respectable company. I can provide you with reasons that are legitimate and pass them as excuses but I will say this: I can no longer be around you and pretend that it doesn’t hurt, that I don’t like you badly, or that I don’t dream of your lips on mine. I would never say this to your face but this is my chance. Harry, you know how shy I am and that I tend to be a people pleaser but at the end of the day I am a human as well. I don’t have to mention all your sentiments, smiles, or warm touches for you to realise how we led each other on but know that I can no longer bear it. I wish you all the best in your life and I hope you find someone who understands you for who you are. Please take it upon yourself to keep my Grandad’s car as a memoire from me and take care of my beloved friend Snowy.

-Y/n.

After ten more minutes of intense gazing, you folded the letter and headed to H’s garage on your rented bike that you slowly adored so much it made you wonder how you will part from it once you buy a new car.

Obviously you wouldn’t go if you knew Harry would be there, he takes his sweet time in checking on the garage during Fridays, which is why you sneaked to the front of the shop so early in the morning.

The letter (wrapped with a white bow) was placed on poor Meena who was yet to be fixed. Harry never gave you a copy of the keys to the shop because he never asked of you to open up especially since he does it so early.

You walked for a decent distance to make sure that the letter can be seen. It would be embarrassing if he didn’t notice it.

You don’t want to think about embarrassment, unless you wish to come back and snatch the letter so you walk towards your bike with an intention to flee quickly.

“Y/n, sweetheart wait up!” The voice caught you off guard and sent shivers down your spine as you turned around with a silent cry for help.

It was just Uncle George.

He strolled slowly with a small box in his hand and a cheerful smile planted on his wrinkled but wise face.

“Good Morning Uncle George, how are you today?” You tried to appear as subtle as you could.

“I’m well darling, I’m glad I caught you before you left!” He spoke with relief as if he has been waiting a thousand years for you.

You glanced to the small wooden box he’s holding in his hand and your apprehension took over before any rational thoughts came in.

“Sorry Uncle if you want me to hand over something to Harry, I believe it is better if you do it.” You tipped him a light smile, as your cheeks burned red from shyness.

“And who said it is for him?” He placed the box in your hands before patting on them.

“Harry asked of me to make this necklace for you as a gift over two weeks ago. It took a while but I assume you know that good things take time?” Your expression was blank and you’re aware that he could probably feel the slight tremble in your hands.

“Sorry sweetheart, my wife is waiting for me.” He walked away toward his shop, something that you didn’t register until you felt the cold wind caressing your cheek, a gesture that Harry used to do.

Uncle George left you speechless as you stood on the pavement, the same way his wife did a while ago.

You no longer cared if Harry was going to show up, your hands immediately opened the box revealing a gold necklace whose design is a circular watch.

You had an inkling; or some sort of urge to turn it, something that your hands did without an order from your brain.

Shiny engraved words into gold stared back at you.

“To a delicate shortcake”

You returned to your apartment shortly after feeling the blood in your legs flow again. You’re not sure how you made it in one piece, not with how foggy your brain was.

Harry had a gift for you?

Delicate shortcake?

The more you try to unfold recent events, the more you get confused.

He did joke once about getting you a watch since you arrived late but you didn’t expect him to be so serious.

The necklace rested on your bedside table, stopping you from going to sleep with a peaceful mind.

To a delicate shortcake.

You huffed and changed your sleeping position to try and divert your attention. You had forgotten all about the letter. You’re not even sure if he read it or if you should come back just in case he didn’t.

A small part of you hoped that you would come back tomorrow and find the letter untouched, yet you had a weird intuition that made you feel unsettled.

You can’t recall when you slept or what your last thought was but the continuous ringing of your phone woke you up.

It took you a bit to register what was happening as you lifted your body up and picked up the phone.

It was one in the morning and Harry was calling you.

It might as well be a dream since you can no longer decipher anything. You waited a couple of seconds before answering just to prepare yourself mentally.

Why was he calling you at this hour?

“Hello?” You pressed the phone to your ear as your heart skipped a beat.

“Y/n— It’s me,Niall! I’m so sorry to call you this late. You’re the only one I could call. It’s about Harry.”

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littlejuicebox · 1 month

Text

The other kind of kink.

Written as a giveaway prize for @chaoticgoodstuff! Hope you enjoy the final version posted here! <3

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x Female Tav

Summary: Astarion didn't quite know how to form a relationship with Tav after she rejected him at the tiefling party. But he begins to realize that perhaps he has other expertise that may be of use to the woman. Namely, curly hair care.

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: fluff, sweet astarion, brief mentions of astarion's trauma/past, lightly ooc astarion, idk what else it's mostly fluff tbh lol

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“So which path do you think we should take, soldier? Underdark or Mountain Pass? Either way, I’m ready to slash some baddies!” Karlach says, swinging her ax for show as the two warrior women chat while Gale finishes cooking dinner.

It would be at least another hour and the women were starving.

“Hmm…” Tav murmurs, looking up at her tiefling friend from where she had been sharpening her great sword. It certainly needed a bit of attention, after slashing through so many goblins a few days ago, “I haven’t decided yet, any suggestions?”

Karlach shrugs and shakes her head before turning to look at Astarion, where he is perched on a log, filing his nails, not more than a few feet away, “Oi! What do you reckon, Fangs? Underdark or Mountain Pass?”

The silver-haired elf glances up from his task momentarily, assessing Tav and Karlach, scarlet eyes narrowed in thought, “Both sound equally atrocious. But if the great Archdruid Halsin said the Underdark is the safer route – which I find impossible to believe – then, I suppose that is my vote. Work smarter, not harder and all that.”

Tav nods, considering the rogue’s suggestion, and with a final rub of whetstone on metal, sheaths her great sword as she says, “Astarion’s right. Underdark, it is.”

“Well of course I’m right, darling! Aren’t I always?” Astarion responds with a pleased little chuckle as he tucks away his nail file.

Inside, his confidence glows at the small bit of validation from their camp leader. He’d felt as if her view of him may have changed after the very awkward encounter they’d had at the tiefling party a few days ago, when he’d drunkenly propositioned her and she’d adamantly refused. He’d thought their relationship – could he call it friendship? – all but ruined after that blunder. Apparently he’d somehow misread the signs, and she wasn’t looking for sex like every other individual he’d ever known.

Astarion had considered their prior interactions dancing on the border of flirtatious, but Tav indicated she preferred to focus on their cause, not on intermingling with her campmates. He thought Tav a bit odd after that interaction, and admittedly felt a bit insulted in the moment. He was gorgeous, why wouldn’t she jump at the opportunity he dangled in front of her?

But, in the soberness of the following morning, Astarion decided he could work within her parameters; he’d just have to find another way to secure her favoritism. In fact, in some ways he was thankful she rejected him.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius,” Tav responds with a laugh, rolling her eyes at the rogue as she stands and stretches, “Well, I’m off to clean up before dinner, if either of you care to join?”

Karlach waves her hand dismissively, “Nah! I’ll do that after dinner. But can I borrow your whetstone for my ax?”

Tav nods at the tiefling, watching as Karlach grabs the stone and walks off toward her tent, ax in hand, before turning to address her other campmate, “And what about you, Astarion?”

The silver-haired elf shrugs and nods; at this point he’s taking any opportunity he can to spend time with Tav. The more he’s with her and gets to know her, the closer she will get to him, and the more secure he will feel.

Or at least, that’s his only Plan B. Since Plan A went up in flames.

He crouches to gather his bathing supplies from his pack before coming closer to the warrior woman currently waiting for him, “I suppose I could do with a bit of a bath. It isn’t hair wash day, but–”

“It isn’t hair wash day?” Tav interjects, her eyebrows furrowing at the vampire, “You don’t wash your hair every day? Isn’t that… gross?”

The rogue pauses and blinks at the woman, tilting his head just a fraction as he assesses her, “Darling, please tell me you are not washing your hair every day. I understand on the days we are soaked in blood and guts it is a necessity… but, certainly you haven’t washed your hair every single day for the past three days when we have done nothing apart from lounge in camp and prepare to move onto the next part of our journey… right?”

Tav cocks her head to the side, mirroring Astarion’s bewildered expression as she asks, “Should I… not be?”

That explains quite a bit, Astarion thinks, as his eyes roam over the unruly curls springing from the crown of Tav’s head. He’d thought it was perhaps an odd stylistic choice, or she simply did not care about the state of her hair, but maybe it was merely ignorance. Perhaps no one ever showed her how to care for the red, curly locks cascading like a lion’s mane around her face.

A small wave of sympathy crosses Astarion’s heart; he internally smashes it down before the wave grows into a tsunami. Best to not care too much about this woman, she could turn into a mindflayer at any moment, after all. And then he’d have to slice her to ribbons, as previously agreed upon.

“Ah.. well, darling. It isn’t wrong, exactly,” He starts, his eyes shifting away from Tav’s face as he tries to delicately address the matter, “It’s just… with a hair texture like yours, you aren’t doing yourself any favors.”

Tav simply blinks in response, her expression vacant; she is not understanding Astarion’s meaning.

The rogue sighs and shakes his head slightly. Well, he at least tried to be delicate, but that did not seem to sink in. More direct, it is.

A vague gesture to his friend’s red curls and then Astarion explains, “Your hair is dry, Tav. That is why it is difficult to maintain and why you’ve broken more than one comb trying to drag it through that unruly mane.”

A flicker of embarrassment crosses Tav’s face and the rogue groans. He doesn’t know how to navigate feelings and friendships; his relationships with his siblings had been much less work… not that he particularly enjoyed those relationships or cared if the other spawn liked him. But he wanted Tav to like him, if only for his own motives, of course.

“It’s really… not all that bad, darling. But perhaps I could help you, give you a few pointers? I think your hair could be quite gorgeous – your best feature, even, given the proper care. It’s rare to see a natural redhead like you, it already captures a lot of attention… let’s make it something awe-inspiring.” Astarion says, gently, his hand coming out to tug at one frizzy curl as he tries to smooth over the insult he just threw at his campmate.

But, hells, someone had to tell her eventually. Even his siblings wouldn’t let him walk around with such unruly locks.

“O-oh, sure, okay,” Tav agrees, still trying to overcome the embarrassment as her own hand comes to rake through her hair and gets caught in a nest of tangles, instead. She grimaces; Astarion had a point, it seemed, “Do I need to bring anything special?”

“Let me go back to my tent and grab my hair washing supplies, I’ll meet you down by the river in a bit, hm?” Astarion responds with a small smile before turning back toward his tent and disappearing within the shelter to rummage through his vast collection of shampoos, oils, perfumes, and soaps.

Tav merely hums in agreement and then heads in the opposite direction, toward the camp-designated bathing spot, towel in hand. As she’s walking, she pulls a curl in front of her eyes and examines it with a new perspective. Gods, it really was dry.

When Astarion makes his way to the river, he finds Tav waist-deep in the rushing water, still in her smallclothes and soaping her arms. Her back is turned to him, and the sun is catching her hair in a flattering light. Autumnal colors of red, orange, burgundy, and wine dance around her crown in the form of spiraled locks, and the elf cannot help but admire the natural beauty bestowed upon the woman.

Her hair was a gorgeous tone, reminiscent of the warmth of a fire or a deep, satisfying vintage wine. But it wasn’t just Tav’s hair that was attractive… she really was quite striking. With the woman unaware of his presence, Astarion took a quick moment to admire the rippling muscles in her back and the strong, lithe arms she used to carry her greatsword.

No one with working eyes — or eye, perhaps, — could deny that Tav was attractive. After all, there was a reason Astarion had chosen to proposition her over the others in the first place.

But, sex or not, the woman certainly seemed to favor him, which meant more than once since their journey began, she’d sliced clean through an enemy at his back, and fed him servings of her own blood.

So now, it was his turn to repay her somehow, some way. And if Tav didn’t accept his physical talents, well, then at least she would accept this.

“Hello, darling,” Astarion calls, causing the woman to turn and acknowledge him with a small smile and wave. He quickly places his bathing kit on the river bank and undresses to just his briefs before tentatively placing a foot in the water. It was warm enough to be tolerable, so the rogue shrugged and grabbed his wooden comb and conditioner before sinking into the water and wading toward his campmate.

“Alright, now, get down into the water,” The elf directs as he shakes the small bottle of conditioner in his hands, prepping the contents.

“But I thought you said I’m not supposed to wash my hair every–” Tav begins, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she eyes the bottle, before the displeased glare from Astarion causes the question to die on her lips.

“Do you want my help, or do you want to continue to look like a sheep desperately in need of shearing, darling?” Astarion asks with a soft sigh as he pops the top of the bottle open and gives it a whiff, “Just bend down and trust me. Oh and here, hold these for a moment.”

Tav grabs the comb and bottle she’s offered and then does what she’s asked. When she’s shoulder-deep in the water, she feels Astarion’s hand guiding her to tip her head back. She follows the directive and is soon greeted by the vision of Astarion’s face hovering above hers, scarlet eyes intensely concentrated as he drags his hand through her curls.

“Your hair texture is a bit different from mine…” He muses idly, as he works to fully saturate the thick locks of hair on his companion’s head with water, “But this conditioner should work, for now. We’ll have to find something better suited to you, when the opportunity allows.”

Astarion takes the comb from Tav’s hand without a word and uses the tool and his own fingers to work out some of the ever-present knots in the woman’s hair. She watches him for a moment before closing her eyes and simply allowing Astarion to work at the task. Before long, the elf is gently guiding her head back up, into a straight position, and trading the comb for the bottle.

“Close your eyes,” He directs, and Tav obliges again as the vampire places a generous amount of rosemary-scented conditioner in his hand. Then he gives the bottle back to Tav, rubs his hands together, and begins to work the creamy liquid through her hair, starting at the ends and slowly wandering up toward her scalp. About midway through he’s reaching for the bottle again, “Who knew your hair was this thick? You’re about to use up all of my favorite conditioner, darling.”

Tav frowns slightly at this comment, trying to turn and face Astarion before he quickly redirects her head with a soft click of his tongue, “I’m sorry… I can buy you more when we run into our next merchant.”

“Oh, it’s no matter. I stole this bottle anyway– I’m sure I can steal another along the way,” Astarion says with a slight dismissive flip of his hand, “Besides, I think you need it far more than I do, right now.”

His fingers trail up to the crown of her head as he speaks, and Tav’s eyes flutter closed once again as Astarion begins to massage the product into her roots. He moves in sections, parting her hair every few inches and attentively working the conditioner into her scalp. The sensation was quite enjoyable; if the water were a bit warmer, Tav might have fallen asleep under Astarion’s gentle, methodical touch.

Far too quickly for her liking, Astarion completes the task and gently pats her shoulder to signal he’s done for now. He grabs his comb and what little remains of his favorite hair product from the woman.

“You need to let that sit for a few minutes, at least, little sheep.” Astarion directs before wading back to the river bank and dropping his supplies with the rest of his things. Tav watches as he grabs his own bar of soap and begins to bathe himself.

“How did you learn about all this?” The woman calls to the rogue as she wades through the water, mostly for something to do as she waits.

Astarion hums as he considers the question; there is a pause in the conversation as he drops his bar of soap back along the bank and uses his hand to rinse the soapy remnants along his body. Tav cannot help but follow his fingers as they graze along his chest and arms, dispersing droplets of water that drizzle down the lines of his abs and back into the river.

“I wish I could tell you how I learned, but I can’t recall…” He murmurs, his voice sounding a bit far away as he thinks, “It feels like something ingrained in me like speaking Elvish or the ability to read, for instance; someone must have taught me… I suppose one of my parents, or someone else in my family.”

A small look of sadness flits across Tav’s face but she quickly hides it before her companion notices, knowing that Astarion will balk at anything resembling pity. She often forgets how little memory he has of his past before Cazador, how much he’d endured until now, and how much of himself he’d lost in the process of it all. He was so good at pretending to be normal and happy-go-lucky… but then, they were quite alike in that aspect, weren’t they? It was easier to be the unbothered goofball than to be anything that resembled fragility, wasn’t it?

Tav chooses to not respond to his answer, knowing nothing she says can truly make his situation better, and instead grabs a conditioner-covered curl, “Can I rinse this now?”

Astarion nods as he climbs out of the water and begins gathering his own things, “Yes, go rinse it out – make sure there’s none of that left in your hair, and then come find me back at camp for the next part. I’m going back — it’s growing a bit cold.”

“Next part?” Tav responds with a soft whine, watching as Astarion towels himself off, “There’s more?”

“Darling, if you want your hair to look even close to as good as mine, there is a lot of work involved. Now hurry up, so we can be done before Gale is ready to feed you whatever disastrous concoction he’s made tonight,” Astarion says, his tone a bit joking as he begins slipping into a new set of camp clothes.

The woman groans and obeys the rogue’s directions, turning away as Astarion strips off his undergarments to replace them with new ones, and wading once again toward the deeper water. Tav dunks herself down into the river and begins running her fingers through spirals of hair, massaging out any slippery residue she finds along the way. With the amount of hair she had, it took several minutes, and by the time she was finished, Astarion was already gone. The sun was just beginning to kiss the earth in its descent toward night.

Tav quickly toweled herself off and dressed. Then she wrapped her hair up in the towel, twisting it around her locks in a turban-like fashion before collecting her belongings and making the short journey back to camp.

“There you are, darling,” Astarion calls as he catches sight of Tav, before patting a stump near his tent, “Come over here so I can finish defining your curls.”

Tav furrows her eyebrows in confusion, because she has no idea what Astarion means, but she’s learned to simply shut up and go along with whatever he says for this entire endeavor. As she comes closer, she notices the elf has laid out even more supplies for her hair.

Did it really require all of this?

She sighs and takes a seat. Astarion immediately sets to work, placing a dollop of some sort of creamy pomade-like mixture in his hand and working it through her hair again. After that, he begins sectioning her hair into pieces, directing Tav every once and a while to hold this or that piece as he combs through her locks.

“Ouch–” Tav hisses as the elf seems to be pulling at the base of her scalp. She moves to jerk away and Astarion huffs impatiently behind her, one of his hands coming to press against her forehead and prevent her movements.

“Darling, for gods sakes, hold still.There isn’t beauty without a bit of pain, and honestly, for such a warrior, you’re being a wimp,” he chastises before continuing on with the task.

“What are you doing?” Tav asks through a sharp intake of breath, scrunching her eyes closed as she tries to endure the uncomfortable sensation of her hair being repeatedly tugged at the root.

“Defining your curls, dear. I’m twisting them around my finger, see?” Astarion responds before coming in front of her and pulling a piece so he can demonstrate the process. Tav watches with a mixture of interest and confusion as he continues, “This will help all your curls to look more uniform. But seeing as you’ve done very little to your hair in all this time, I suppose it would make sense that you’re a bit tender-headed. I promise I am trying to be gentle.”

Tav grimaces as Astarion continues his task, letting out little squeaks of pain that the rogue pointedly ignores. Eventually, Karlach comes over to return the whetstone she borrowed. The tiefling lingers to chat, which distracts Tav just enough to mostly forget about the pain in her scalp. When Astarion announces he’s done, the woman is genuinely surprised and moves to touch her hair; she is met with a quick swat from the elf.

“Ah-ah!” He admonishes before grabbing a bottle and spraying her hair with another rosemary scented product, “You can’t touch it until it’s completely dry.”

“Why the hell not?” Tav groans again, suddenly growing impatient. Her stomach growls, and she sighs as she realizes she is also growing hangry.

“You’ll undo all my hard work! Just wait.” Astarion responds as he stows away all his beauty products, “And anyway, it looks like Gale is just about done with dinner. We can go sit by the fire as you eat and that will dry your hair faster.”

Dinner was… acceptable. Gale did the best he could with the two rabbits Astarion hunted that morning, a handful of potatoes, one onion, and a couple of carrots. They did not have the luxury of seasonings most of the time, so it was quite typical for the nightly stews to taste gamey… tonight was no exception.

Astarion takes a few drinks from Tav’s wrist after she finishes dinner. Once he retracts his fangs from her flesh, he lifts his hand to gently feel her curls. After a moment assessing his creation, he grins at the woman and says, “They’re finally dry, darling. Took long enough, hm? Now, let’s get you in front of a mirror so you can see my masterpiece.”

Tav is flabbergasted by what she sees in the mirror. For the first time in… well, ever, her hair looks like it belongs to one of the beautiful maidens in an oil painting. Her hand comes up to gently touch the soft, spiraled locks and confirm that this perfect head of hair is, in fact, on her head and not somebody else's.

“What do you think?” Astarion prompts, his voice containing the smallest bits of apprehension as he lifts a hand to fuss with Tav’s hair, placing it just so.

“It’s great,” Tav responds, her face breaking into a wide smile that causes the tension in Astarion’s shoulders to dissipate, “Thank you… really.”

Astarion smiles and nods, suddenly unsure how to respond to the genuine gratitude in Tav’s voice. So instead he chuckles a bit and rolls his eyes before saying, “What on earth would you do without me?”

“Continue to look like a sheep in need of shearing, I guess,” Tav jokes, sticking her tongue out as she gently bumps her elbow into Astarion’s rib in jest, “That was mean, by the way.”

“I prefer honest, darling,” Astarion quips with a small chuckle, his fingers still fussing with the woman’s curls, “And anyway, you no longer look like a little sheep. You look beautiful.”

Tav is not used to being called beautiful. Strong or brave, perhaps, but beautiful… never. Until now. The compliment catches her off guard and her eyes widen for just a moment. The elf notices her shock and his brows crinkle as he pauses the primping to analyze the woman’s face.

“Certainly you know you’re beautiful…” The rogue continues, his hands starting to work at the curls again, “I’m sure I’m not the only–”

Astarion trails off when Tav shakes her head from side to side as her face begins to blush, the shade of her skin suddenly resembling the shade of her hair. Her voice is quiet, and crackling with a bit of emotion as she says, “No one says that. They just call me strong, or brave… or fierce.”

The elf tilts his head to the side as his eyes roam across Tav’s face once again. How interesting, he thought, to be lauded for things apart from your beauty. He’d never experienced such a thing, himself… though he thinks he would like to. But it almost appeared as if Tav had the reverse experience to his.

“Well… surely you can be strong and beautiful, hm?” Astarion asks with a raised eyebrow, trying once again to smooth out the awkwardness he felt creeping between them, though he didn’t exactly know why it often felt like that. He moves to affectionately tug another lock of Tav’s hair and smiles playfully, “And with hair like this, dear, no one can deny your beauty. It would be an insult to my skills, frankly.”

Tav snorts a laugh at this, eliciting a genuine, fang-filled grin from the rogue. Then he produces a bandana from his pocket and flourishes it in front of the woman, “Now let’s get your hair wrapped up. I’m exhausted and I want to go to bed, but I will not allow you to ruin my masterpiece overnight with all your thrashing about in your bedroll. You’re quite noisy, you know? And you snore.”

“I do not!” Tav protests as Astarion clicks his tongue at her and shakes his head, all while bundling her curls into the bandana and deftly tying a knot to keep it all in place.

“You’re a terrible liar, dear, I’m surprised your nose isn’t growing this instant,” The elf murmurs, his finger coming to affectionately boop the woman’s nose before he bids goodnight and wanders back to his tent for bed.

Tav rubs her own nose as she yawns and heads back to her own tent, on the other side of camp. She tucks herself into her bedroll and smiles as she stares up at the canvas ceiling of her shelter. Someone really said she was beautiful; a small giggle escapes her lips as she thinks about it.

Before long, Tav falls asleep. And for the first time in a while, she sleeps peacefully, without any thrashing about or snoring. Perhaps it was because her hair – and her heart – were both impeccably well-taken care of tonight.

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x female tav #astarion x tav fluff #astarion fluff #astarion oneshot #astarion fanfiction #tav x astarion

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make-me-imagine · 9 months

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Evan Buckley A-Z Relationship Headcanons

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Gn!Reader

Words: 3.2k

A/n: This is my first time doing these types of headcanons, so I hope it goes well. Get's a bit less detailed towards the end, mostly because I jut wanted to get them out already lol.

A: affection (is he affectionate? how?):

Buck is very affectionate! Emotionally, verbally and physically.

He doesn't shy away from showing his affection either. If you don't mind PDA he is all for it. If you are a bit shy about it, he will just hold your hand, or have his arm draped around your waist.

He is a cuddler, and enjoys you being close to him physically. And he loves to hold you tight, and press kisses to your head, shoulder, cheeks and hands whenever he can (and your lips obviously).

He is emotionally and verbally affectionate and will often remind you how much he loves you. He compliments you like crazy and will tell you anytime you do something he thinks is cute.

B: Boyfriend (what is he like a a boyfriend; boyfriend things):

Buck can be a little dense at times, but he tries very hard to be a loving and caring boyfriend. He can be very selfless though so you gotta make sure he is looking out for himself too. He is a romantic at heart so expect random gifts, fancy dates, flowers, snacks, etc.

He is protective, and the last thing he wants is for you to get hurt. But this might drive you up the wall sometimes if he gets a bit too protective lol.

Constantly hearing new and bizarre facts he learned on the job, or when he fell down a research rabbit hole and two in the morning

Also, if you are someone who gets your period, he would take care of you. Bring you anything your craving buy you heating/cooling pads, medicine, etc. Anything to make you feel better if you are in pain.

C: Confession (did he confess first? how did he confess?):

He was fairly straight forward with his confession. You already knew he was interested since he basically made it obvious from the beginning. And he asked you out on a few dates. But when he wanted to tell you how he really felt about you (meaning his attraction was full-blown romantic feelings), he brought you flowers and gave you a charming smile.

He gave you a cute speech about how you made his heart hammer in his chest every time he saw you, and that he never really got butterflies from someone until he met you. Buck would make it clear that he wanted a serious relationship with you, and that you had become a part of him, and that you had his heart (so please don't break it).

D: Dates (what kind of dates do you go on?):

Buck loves a fun date. Sure he goes with the romantic candle-lit dinners every now and again, but he really loves fun and cute dates.

Picnics on the beach or in the park. Amusement park dates, arcade dates, movies, bowling, mini golf. Any and every activity you could do together, he is ready and willing.

If you plan a date he is all for it as well, he can find and make fun out of anything. Hell, he even enjoys date nights at home just watching movies and eating take-out. Any time spent with you with great to him.

E: Excitement (what does he do to bring excitement into your relationship)

Similar to the fun dates previously mentioned, he might suggest adventurous things. Bungee jumping, helicopter rides, boat rides, etc.. Anything that might bring adrenaline without being too dangerous. He makes sure to keep you on your toes and will be impulsive, bringing you along for the ride.

Maybe recommending a weekend trip, camping, road-trips, etc. If he gets an idea, its hard for him not to run with it.

Buck is an over-planner, so you know he does his research as well, so you always feel safe (if not still scared).

F: Food (does he cook for you? do you cook for him?)

Over the last few years, Buck has gotten pretty good at cooking, so he enjoys cooking for you. If you love to cook as well, he enjoys the two of you cooking together in the kitchen, or watching as you make something for the two of you. If you cook, he cleans, if he cooks, you have to get to the dishes before he does because he will do them even if you say you will.

He learns (often with Bobby's help) how to make your favorite foods. So when you are having a hard time he can surprise you with them.

Buck really is a prime example of giving and receiving love through food.

G: Gifts (does he get you gifts? what kind? does he like gifts?)

You probably have a hundred little trinkets around your house because of Buck. Oh, he saw a little ferris wheel key chain that reminds him of your third date? He's buying it for you. See's couple aprons? Definitely buying those. Matching mugs? Yep.

Anything that reminds him of you will most likely be bought, or at least greatly debated. You can thank Eddie and Hen for the fact that you do not have a thousand other things that reminded Buck of you.

Anytime you give Buck gifts he cherishes them. If it's is something simple and cute, he gives you that dopey grin and hugs you. If it is something sentimental or special, he might get emotional, or will take pictures of it to show the others.

H: Hugs (is he a hugger? does he like hugs?)

Pretty obvious by now, but yes he is a hugger! Back hugs, side hugs, hugs where he lifts you off the ground. All the hugs!

He loves when you hug him too. If you come up and wrap your arms around him, he immediately stars grinning. Coo's at you, might lovingly tease you, and will press a kiss to your head. If you hug from from behind, he will grab your hands and press kisses to them.

I: "I Love You" (how did he first say 'I love you', does he say it often?)

Buck knew he was falling in love with you the second it started happening. When his friends were talking about marriage, and he could easily and happily picture marrying you. He knew.

It was a few weeks later when it slipped out. After a rough day at work, you were cuddling together after eating. You were running your fingers through his hair while he was talking about how he was feeling. He could feel your love for him in that moment and gently caressed your face.

"I love you, you know." "I do know. And I love you too."

He is not shy in saying he loves you after this. Every time you say goodbye, he needs to make sure you hear him say it. He does not believe you can say it too much to someone, and he always wants to make sure you know.

J: Jealous (does he get jealous? how does he show it?)

Buck isn't one to get jealous often. He trusts you 1000%. When others get close to you, showing interest or flirting, he gets more protective than he does jealous. He knows you would never give them the time of day, but that doesn't mean he can trust them to back off.

Before you were dating however, he would get that little pang of jealousy in his chest if others showed interest in you. And if you seemed to be interested at all, he would feel it more as well as a bit worried that he might lose his chance.

K: Kissing (does he like kissing? how does he kiss?)

Like previously mentioned, Buck is a fan of physical affection and this does include kissing. Though he is fine with PDA, kissing isn't part of that, apart from a kiss on the cheek or forehead.

Kisses on the lips are for just the two of you. He can get lost in kissing you as well, and he loves lying on the couch or bed, with you in his arms as you slowly kiss each other. He also is the type too pull you flush against him as he is kissing you. Or he places his hands on either side of your face as he kisses you.

He often gives you kisses as he passes by you. Either a quick kiss on the cheek, temple of a peck on the lips.

When you kiss him he melts, and often smiles into the kiss, especially if he was not expecting it.

L: Love Languages (what are his giving and receiving love languages?)

Buck's main giving love languages is Acts of Service, while he also often uses physical affection and gifts to remind you how much he loves you.

His receiving love languages are words of affirmation and quality time. He loves being reminded and told that he is loved as it reassures him. And he loves just being around you, it doesn't matter what you are doing, just as you are together.

M: Marriage (does he want to get married? what would married life be like with him?)

Buck totally wants to get married, and thinks about it often. He knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Being married to him wouldn't be much different than when you were dating. The only thing that really changes, is how he enthusiastically introduces you as his spouse, rather than his partner. He loves the sound of it, and it reminds him that you are together forever.

On the other side of it, if he is dating someone who does not want to get married, he is okay with it. He might be a little disappointed, but he'd never force his partner to do something they don't like. But this would not stop him from buying you some sort of promise ring, or token to remind you that he wants to be with you forever, married or not.

N: Nicknames (does he use nicknames or pet-names with you? what do you call him?)

On a daily basis he will call you by whatever nick-name you go by, or just your name. But he has a variety of pet-names for you. Babe, baby, sweetheart. If you are shorter than him he calls you 'Little One' or 'short-cake'.

You usually call him Buck, or Evan if you need to get his attention. Otherwise you call him Babe, Handsome, or Gorgeous.

O: Oath (what kind of things does he promise you?)

One of the biggest promises in your relationship is that no matter what. You both try your hardest to come home to each other every day. Alive, and safe.

He also always promises to make you happy, and to never hurt you. Something you promise him as well.

You promise each other to never hold things in, and to always tell each other everything. Communication is very important in your relationship.

P: Proposal (how would he propose?)

Buck is a romantic, so he will be planning something for a few weeks before he actually proposes. He gets advice from everyone, asking if his ideas are good, if he should do more, less, etc. He panics, but only because he wants it to be perfect.

Finally, he decides to do it on a weekend, when you are both off of work. You go stay in a cute house a few hours away near the coast. On the second day, while you were in the shower, he set up a picnic for the two of you.

When you were ready he asked you to go on a walk with him. You noticed he is a bit antsy, but you try not to think much of it. Though you had an idea he was planning something, you didn't think it was a proposal.

The walk was to the area he set up the picnic. You figured this was the surprise, and that was why he was a bit antsy. Hoping you liked it. Which you very much did.

After you ate, and the sun began to set, that was when he proposed. As you were looking out at the sunset, you turned back to look at him and he was on one knee.

He had a speech, because of course he would. It was emotional and romantic and made you cry. It was perfect.

Q: Quarrels (do you fight? what are fights like with him)

You rarely fight with Buck as he is the type to talk everything out, something you both decided was important.

So the only times you really argued, was when he did something reckless, usually endangering his life. You get angry out of love, but he might get defensive leading to an argument.

You make up fairly quickly though as you both realize the other's view. Buck is Buck and will do anything to save others. But you are afraid of losing him. He apologizes, and promises he will try his best not to put himself into more danger than he already gets into (you know this is kind of a lie, but you forgive him anyways).

R: Remember (does he remember important things?)

Not only does he remember important things like birthdays and anniversaries, but he remembers very small things. Details about you, and your relationship.

What flavors of ice cream, desserts, candy, you do and do not like. What specific orders you like with coffee or drinks. The ingredients in meals you avoid, or push to the side to save for last.

He remembers the places you've said you'd like to go to, the dates you've said sound cute.

He even has a notebook of stuff he's written down because he doesn't want to forget.

On the opposite side of this, he is horrible at remembering things like appointments or where you said you were going after work. So when you don't come home he gets worried and messages you, only for you to have to remind him that you were visiting your parents or friends. Something you told him about four times.

S: Sentimental (is he sentimental? how?)

Buck is pretty sentimental. He loves taking photos anytime you do something, dates, trips, going on walks. He has folders on his phone with 1000's of photos of the two of you and all the things you've done together.

He occasionally keeps things like ticket stubs, or stuff like that, but only if it was something meaningful or really fun. If you are the type to keep those kinds of things too, he thinks it is cute, and will make sure to keep them for you, so you can put them with the others.

T: Together (how does he act with you in public vs in private)

There is not a real difference with how he acts with you in public versus private. He does not hide how he feels about you. The only thing that is different, is how he keeps the PDA on the more casual side like previously mentioned.

He is not afraid of telling people about you, or how much he loves and admires you. He is proud of you and loves telling people you are together and about your relationship.

U: Uplifting (how does he cheer you up? what is the best way to cheer him up?)

When you are upset, Buck tries his best to cheer you up. He will buy you snacks, flowers, make you food, anything to show you that he is there for you. He will set up the couch to be all cozy, turn on your favorite shows or movies and just cuddle with you.

If you need to talk or rant about your feelings he will listen intently and make you feel seen.

If you need a break from the world, he might take you on a small trip, or do his best to distract you from the world.

He knows how much you try your best to make him happy so he will do his best to do the same for you. Any day you are sad or do not smile, is his least favorite day.

V: Vacation (when or where would you go on vacation together?)

Went over this a little bit before. But with more specific trips, if you only have the weekend off, you might take a road trip up the coast, or go visit Yosemite.

If you had a week or longer then you would take a trip out of the country. Most likely to a cute European town, or some place on the ocean.

You look for places with a lot of activities and places to visit like restaurants and museums, because you want to get as much out o the trip as you can. Though, if your vacation comes after a long stressful time, a place near the ocean where you relax and do very little is just what you need.

W: Wedding (what kind of wedding would you have?)

If you and Buck get married, he will be happy with whatever you want. If you want a small simple wedding, he is all for it. Close friends and family only.

If you want big and extravagant, he is all for it and will help you come up with fun ideas to make it the best it can be.

Most likely though, you will have something in the middle. Not too big, not to small. With a few things both of you wanted. Your decorations and theme, food trucks and maybe a karaoke machine for Buck. And you know there will for sure be a dance sequence with Eddie buck and Chimney (with a special appearance by Chris and Bobby). It is embarrassing, but also very funny, and you often look back on the video when you need to cheer up.

X: Xtra (a random head canon I have)

Your first date with Buck was home-made dinner at his place.

He burned it a little, since he was so nervous, but you thought it was good anyways. You cleaned the dishes together and ended up having a small water fight in the kitchen. Which then lead to your first kiss.

Y: Yearning (does he yearn for you when you are apart? how does he deal with it?)

Buck doesn't like being apart from you for too long, because he misses you easily. He is so used to you being in his life daily that when you aren't around he feels like a part of him is missing.

So to remedy this, he texts you a lot and face times with you whenever he can. He also has a tendency to talk about you a lot more often when you aren't around. Which often leads to Eddie or Chimney texting you begging you to cm back sooner before they kill him.

Z: zZzZz (sleeping habits)

Buck falls sleep fairly easily, and is also kind of hard to wake up. He can be a bed and blanket hog sometimes, but once he gets used to sharing a bed with you, it lessens.

He is a snuggler as well, and likes to be the big spoon holding you close to him. He is quite big and very warm so sometimes you have to rip your blankets off so you don't overheat.

He likes the occasional nap, and will sometimes kidnap you from whatever you are doing and carry you to the bed with him so you can nap with him. He will hold you tight, so good luck trying to sneak away if that was your plan. You're stuck now.

First time doing this like I said, so I hope you liked it!

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

911 + Buck Taglist: @spuffyfan394, @webreathfandoms, @locke-writes, @persephonesportal, @pockyandme, @soultrysworld, @averyhotchner, @iinmysights, @that-marvel-simp, @gatefleet, @merlin-dahlia, @silverose365, @bellarkeselection, @shiftingwh0r3, @rqmanoff, @fanboysfangirl, @readingbookelf, @luvwanda, @oliviah-25,

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley/reader #evan 'buck' buckley/reader #evan 'buck' buckley x reader #911 imagine #evan buckley imagine #911 headcanons #a-z headcanons #evan buckley a-z headcanons #evan 'buck' buckley headcanons #9-1-1 imagine

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pigeonpeach · 3 months

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Love potion yandere <3

Cw: dub con, suggestive themes, drugging, yandere themes,

Prompt: You recently received a potion from a strange old lady you helped out. You helped her pick out a cute bunny plushie for her daughter and even helped pay for it. As reward she gave you that potion and payed you back. Telling you it will show wether or not someone loves you. If they don’t, then they will act as if nothing happened. But if they do then it will strengthen their love to the point they cannot resist showing affection to you. You were in fact: quite perplexed who to use this on. So you saved it for later.

Well later came.

Jean

You were preparing tea for your boss Jean when you got curious. She’d bene eyeing you for some time now so you wanted some answers. The potion came up again as you contemplated it. There was no way you could but… ohh… could anyone blame you. Yearning for someone is truly frightening. You yearn for her touch, to sit on her lap, to be her wife.. oh you just want to know.. maybe just a drop. Just a little? Half a drop maybe?

You caved. Who could blame you. You were horrible with signs and you needed to know. You didn’t put much. A single drop. Nothing more. You watched her lift it before the guilt overtook you.

“Wait! I just realized I didn’t use the right tea bags! I’m so sorry.” You said. She put the cup down looking at you concerned.

“Its no problem. I can drink this one. I’m not that picky.” She chuckled. You however still sweated.

“B-but I really insist I must get it right before you have it!”

“Is it poisonous?” She asked confused and skeptical.

“Of course not. I just.. this cup was… i- i um… its a really experimental tea I bought and I don’t know if you would like it.” You said nervously. You looked like a vein would burst at any second from your stress.

“Please relax, you look way too stressed over this. I’ll have a sip and tell you my thoughts.” She took a sip before you could interject. She put the cup down as she swallowed it. A smile graced her lips. “This is great actually. It has such a lovely taste.”

You felt relieved.

“Do tell me the flavor, this is excellent stuff I’d like to buy some myself.” She said.

“O-oh I’ll go check!” You said nervously.

With that you left as you clutched your heart. It seemed she was fine. Did… that mean it didn’t work? Or did she not love you? Oh well. What matters is that she’s fine and you got your closure without risking your job. You decided to try and come up with some exotic and outrageous flavor to tell her as you killed time in the library.

Meanwhile for Jean she felt herself growing restless. Her hands tingling as she slammed her fist on the table. “Where is she! Where is she!” She felt so fustrated. Her heart raced. Her mind blanked as it was filled with thoughts of you. She needed you this instant. She sat up from her desk as she vowed to find you herself.

Coming into the Library she found you dusting the shelves.

“O-oh Jean I’m sorry I got carried a-woat?!” You gasped as she suddenly lifted you into her arms and carried you off. “M-m-m”

“Don’t speak. I just… want to hold you right now.” She said, her voice as so stern, it was nothing like the woman you were talking to a hour ago. Her face on your neck taking a deep sniff making you surprised. “You’re so soft.. were you always this compliant? You didn’t even resist when I picked you up, you just went along with it.” She chuckled, her laugh holding a slight sinister feeling to it.

“G-grand master?” You squeaked. She seemed elated.

“Just call me Jean.” She said carrying you off to her office. You couldn’t help but wonder if even one drop was too much. But at least you got your answers… for her sake you hope its not permanent

Diluc

Maybe you were in over your head. You made muffins for the household and offered him one, you made sure it was his favorite, blueberry cinnamon. He thanked you and ate the whole thing. He even ate most of the muffins. They were gone before midday. But you knew it wouldn’t harm anyone who ate it. You had been hassled by Adelinde for the recipe when Milly came rushing to you.

“Ma-master Diluc requests your presence immediately.” Milly said urgently. You were a bit puzzled by her reaction. But you obliged heading to his office. You barely got the door open before you were suddenly pulled into a tight embrace.

“You… what did you do to me?” He growled. You tried to squirm as you panicked slightly.

“H-huh? W-whats going on? I- oh!” You were suddenly lifted as you pinned you to the wall.

“Those muffins… you.. you were already so tempting and now I can’t get you out of my mind. So what was it? A aphrodisiac?”

“I-it shouldnt be having those effects. I only did one drop… i just… wanted to see if you felt the same way.” You fessed up quickly. You were very conflicted, on one hand this was very scary, but also kind of hot. Being pinned against the wall, your crush pinning you and desperately pressing himself into you. Oh it was a battle between your sense and your heart.

“I knew it. You could’ve just asked you know? You have no excuse now.” His voice was so growly. Your body tingled as he spoke directly into your ear. “You’re going to take responsibility here. You are going to mine. I’ll make sure of that.”

Dehya

You had the biggest crush on Dehya. You hired her for a expedition you went on with your students but you ended up head over heel in love with her. Now that it was over you tried to find any excuse to spend time with or hang out with her. You wondered if sometimes she got annoyed or hated you because you worked for the Akademiya. But with that potion however you figured you would have a clear shot of figuring it out. Of course she wasnt a test dummy. You tested it on a lab rat who became quite cuddly with you. The rat survived with no damage done mentally or physically. So while you two were staying at inn together you slipped a drop in her cup.

“DEHYA!” You gasped as she just lifted you into the air, as if she were offering you to the sky, the. Lowering you to her chest. Then repeating that. You realized she was using you as s weight.

“Heh, you’re so light! It barely feels like I’m moving a muscle.” She smiles as you froze, not wanting to fall.

“Dehya please put me down this is so embarrassing!” You were quite worried about falling. You already had such a fragile back, you couldn’t worsen it even more.

“Why? You’re so cute like this. Heh, my little researcher is just so light.. makes me wonder how the wind never blew you away.” She teased. You weren’t even that skinny. She was just that strong. “I could keep you, just sling you over my shoulder and take you with me. Carry you around like a purse… a pretty purse. One I could fu-“

“DEHYA! Please put me down! Also are you drunk?” You were quite puzzled. None of your experiments yielded this. The mouse had simply become cuddly, your cat also became clingy for the day. Perhaps it was just the type of love. The mouse and your cat loved you as a caretaker so their love strengthened to make them more dependent on you than they were, her love must’ve been more than you thought.

“Heh.. I slipped out my flask for some firewater mixture I got. Wanted to see if you would have a sip or two.” That was concerning. You didn’t know she could be so devious. It was kind of exciting though… you had always wanted to try firewater.. getting drunk with her seemed like a great way to bond an- “stop thinking so much.” Dehya seemed angry as she swung you around once more.

“Please put me down! Dehya you’ll break something and that will be me!”

“Relax, I wouldn’t break something pretty like you.” She said, slinging you over her shoulder and tossing you onto the bed. You two had separate beds but you figured you wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight. “So pretty, so pliable and soft. My little researcher..” she purred. You were struggling to maintain your composure or mentally write notes. Her body ontop of you. “Mine.. all~~~ mine. I won’t let anyone else take you. If they try I’ll cut their fucking hand off.”

“Dehya that’s a crime!” You were alarmed. You couldn’t let her do such things. “Let’s just get some rest. You clearly need it!” You attempted to roll away but she blocked you.

“Mm i’d get away with it.. there’s plenty of spaces to hide a body in sumeru.” She purred as if that wasn’t the most sinister words you’ve heard from her.

“Dehya! No! No murder no using me like a purse, and no-“

“Are you trying to leave me.” She growled.

“Dehya i can’t even get up right now.” You sighed.

“Good. I’m going to use you… like a pillow. We can do more fun stuff when I’m sober. Besides… I wanna do it under the stars. And also so anyone nearby can hear you calling my name~” she giggled. You weren’t actually too Against that. That actually sounded kind of hot to you.

“Please just lay down so you can sleep!” An Idea popped into your mind. “I’ll give you a kiss if you get ready for bed and promise not murder anyone!”

“Just one? Nonono I want more than just kisses her.”she said smugly. “What’s stopping me from taking some right now? You clearly don’t mind.” You sighed.

“I’ll… go on that starry night date of yours if you just comply here.”

“You mean the one where I’ll f*ck you?”

“Yes.”

“Deal.”

Neuvillette

Truth be told the potion wasn’t for him. You had a crush on someone else and when they asked for some water you dropped that in there.

You didn’t know it was for the Iudex of Fonatine. Not until you were dragged into his office and he curled himself around you in his more.. dragon like form. His tail was massive spanning what must be several feet, you couldn’t measure it though considering the way he curled himself, tail included, around you.

“Mine… mine..” he growled as you stood still and shaking. You liked the Iudex sure but you knew he was way out of your league. Apparently he wasn’t.

“S-sir… i- i have work…” you weren’t sure how to get out of this. His grip was tight. His bigger body wrapped around you as he sniffed you. You couldn’t get a inch away.

“Mine.” His growl was more deeper.

“Sir! I-i can’t.. ngh..” you gasped as he held you so tight you had difficulty breathing.

“Say it.” His voice was more stern than you had ever heard. The kind of tone he’d have when dealing with a unruly court.

“S-say what?” Your voice trembled. You wondered if he could kill you with this grip.

“Say that you’re mine.” His voice reverberated throughout your body, making your hairs stand on end. His grip only getting tighter as you became more alarmed.

“I-I’m yours… I’m yours!” You pleaded. To your relief he lessened his grip letting you breathe. However he started instead to.. bite you. You jolted feeling his bite at your neck, it was more like a nibble but it was still a alarming sensation. “S-sir! We’re in your office..” you wished you never used that potion at all. Maybe instead thrown it away. You might not get out of this in one piece.

“I don’t care.. I want you…” His tongue lapped at your sweat as if he was… bathing you? Do dragons clean themselves like cats? Maybe not but it was a jarring sensation. “You’re mine.. I’m not going to let anyone else have you.” He growled as his hands on your uniform pulled it open.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #diluc x you #jean gunnhildr x reader #diluc x y/n #wlw #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #dehya x reader #yandere dehya #yandere diluc x reader #yandere jean x reader #dehya x you #yandere tendencies #dubcon #oh my god its not just diluc this time!#but it is nerdvillette so ig it doesn’t count that much #i promise I’ll do someone else i just only have thoughts for either of those two

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wangxianficfinder · 17 days

Text

In the mood for...

Apr 9th

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1. ITMF fics with (a) good and well-developed original characters! i really enjoyed "I told you when I came I was a stranger" and would really love to read more like these. also looking for (b) fics where wwx is brought back in an OC's body, where their identity matters to the plot (eg politically), like "The Housewife’s Guide to Causing Chaos" (wwx brought back as a yu) & "Everyanything" (wwx brought back as qin su).

would still like wangxian to be tgt, & complete/actively ongoing fics only please. thank you!!!!! @potatokunst

1B)

There's the wwx resurected in other people's bodies comp, but more specifically,

❤️ Beauty and the Boot by PTchan (T, 44k, wangxian, summoned by f!oc, Canon Divergence, Romantic Comedy, Genderbending, Denial, Fem!WWX, WangXian kids, Crack-ish, WIP) would probably fit

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2. Hey there! For the next itmf:

I want fics where wwx is in love with lwj, and he knows it too. So I don’t care if its time travel or anything like that, I just wanna see wwx treating lwj good/like a spouse while being aware that he’s doing it.

And even greater would be, if lwj was very much confused/ in gay panic mode/ horny for it .

Thank you :3 @desperation-is-my-middle-name

two guys r in love thats literally it by victortor (M, 11k, wangxian, Time Travel, the fluffiest thing ive ever written)

When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending) more of an angst take honestly but it fits the prompt?

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together)

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3. Hi! For ITMF, can you suggest fics where it picks up soon after the novel ends and explores wangxian’s relationship and how it develops?

Or just fics where wwx learns to take up space/ adjust to gusu and in lwj’s heart?

Thank you for your help, always!

And Yet Here You Are by cosmicmilktea (T, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Cloud Recesses, settling down, Separation Anxiety, Teacher WWX, very light angst, Chief Cultivator LWJ)

call me home and I'll build you a throne by anaphoricae (E, 51k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Cloud Recesses, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Self-Indulgent, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, Touch-Starved, Non-Sexual Intimacy... and then Sexual Intimacy, Lán Juniors Gossiping about Wangxian, as a treat, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, little hurt lots of comfort, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Farmer WWX, Chief Cultivator LWJ, iMutual Pining, Communication, Quietly Falling Into a Married Life, Light Angst, Wholesome, POV LWJ, POV WWX, LWJ in braids agenda, Sharing a Bed, WWX's Birthday, Semi-Public Sex, Cold Springs, Inventor WWX, Jealous WWX, turkish translation)

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (M, 28k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Love Letters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Literal Sleeping Together, Intimacy, CQL Compliant, No Plot Just Feelings, First Time, Two soulmates figuring their shit out, Let Hanguang-jun talk about his feelings agenda, Podfic Available)

my age has never made me wise by idrilka (E, 63k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Part-epistolary, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, Homecoming, One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again)

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4. hello! for itmf any fics with wei wuxian and mo xuanyu? smth like i'll take a secondhand monster by stratisphyre

tysm<3 @r3n-vy

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5. Hi! Hope u r having a great day!

Do you know any good wangxian fics where LWJ leaving cloud recesses along with A-yuan and raise him on his own? You know, before WWX's return? I remember reading one where LWJ competely fell off the radar once. Sadly, i can't recall the name. Pretty please @grrumpywoof

❤️ And Miles To Go Before I Sleep by Glitterbombshell (T, 23k, WIP, WangXian, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, LXC is not really a good brother in this sorry, Canon Divergence, rogue cultivator!lwj) It's a WIP that hasn't updated since 2020, but there's this

Home isn't Where the Heart is. by Hauntcats (Not rated, 7k, wangxian) Jingyi comes along too here

The Best I Can by Zephyr (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 26k, LJY & WWX, wangxian, WWX talking to his donkey, Canon Divergence, Light Angst, Drama, Recovery, Coming of Age, Secret Identity Fail, Friendship, Rogue Cultivator LWJ, Road Trips, POV Multiple, Happy Ending)

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6. Hi!!! Thank you, you are all amazing and this place is magnificent!! Well, In the mood for... A) Fics were Wei Wuxian raised or helped raised the Juniors, all of them, modern if possible, I just finished The Edge of Night by Hobbsy3 and the relationship with the kids is so amazing, even if is not the central theme also B) Zombie themes fics, similar to the previous one, modern to if posible with happy ending!! Thank you so much for everything!! Be well :) @monicaop21

6A)

🔒 and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Yúnmèng Siblings, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They're Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending, podfic of and having a marvellous time by varnes by Spinifex) not modern but WWX raises all the kids

6B)

Darkness Before the Dawn by Selenay (E, 64k, wangxian, Zombie Apocalypse, Modern With Magic, Necromancer WWX, Reunions, toddler A-Yuan, There Was Only One Bed, There are zombies but not graphically horrific zombies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Find a home in the middle of an apocalpyse)

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7. Academic rivals wangxian? :<

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8. For the next itmf! I wonder if there are any fics where the lan and nie bros are really close and then wwx gets added into the mix, and there are shenanigans! Things like the lan/nie bros having a problem that only wwx can solve, or the bros discover how wwx's been treated by other people and get super protective. I just read With This Shadowed Blade and discovered that I very badly want to read more of this dynamic! Thank you all!

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, wangxian, modern, slow burn, kid fic, found family, it gets worse before it gets better, PTSD, blood and injury, dissociation, trauma, angst w happy ending, musicals, alternating pov, JC & WWX reconciliation, hurt/comfort, panic attacks)

Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters.)

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9. Pls pls next itmf secret relationship wangxian? Bonus points if it’s CRA but modern au or post canon or whatever is great too I just need it (I have read a few where their families don’t believe they’re dating but I want them hiding it)

Silenced With A Kiss by NinjaKK (E, 132k, WIP, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Flirting, Teen Romance, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Soft WangXian, WWX in WWX’s Body, Secret Relationship, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Dates, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Canon Divergence, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Ripple Effect, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Optional Smut, Supportive LWJ, BAMF WWX, Inappropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Has an Angry LWJ Kink, Drunk LWJ, Gusu Lan Alcohol Tolerance, No Golden Core Transfer, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect)

A Guide on How to (not) Have a Secret Relationship by Grapesey (YumGrapeJuice) (T, 6k, wangxian, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Boys Kissing, they are horribly in love, WWX is a Little Shit, LWJ is So Whipped, WWX is obsessed with LWJ's hair, JC is So Done)

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10. For the next itmf could I see if we could find any fics where mo xuanyu is adopted by wangxian. I’ll take both modern au and canon type fics

a thousand fragile and unprovable things by theLoyalRoyalGuard (G, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Trans Male Character, Trans MXY, MXY Deserves Happiness, Best Dads Wangxian, Handwaving The Legal System With The Power of LWJ, A little bit of angst, mostly soft, Happy Ending, Gender Happiness, Let LWJ Wear Skirts Agenda, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

silk linked together by theLoyalRoyalGuard (G, 6k, LWJ & MXY, Wangxian, Modern, Autistic LWJ, Cellist LWJ, LWJ, Runs A Rabbit Rescue, MXY Deserves Happiness, Fluff) which ends w/ both wangxian relationship and Mo Xuanyu adoption in process.

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11. Hello! ITMF current wips? For the last few months Truth Will Out has been super fun to keep up with, but now it is complete I would love to find other wips to follow! Any genre (canon, au, or modern) and any topic/plot! Preferably something that updates with relative frequency, like weekly or every other week. Thank you so much!

No Matter What You Are by LilyFaraday (M, 209k, wangxian, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Female WWX, MXY is a girl in this one and WWX has to deal with it, Genderbending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, A lot of comedy coming from WWX dealing with being a girl, and also using it to his advantage, Marriage of Convenience, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, no miscarriage)

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ) My current MDZS WIP is the A Matter of Time Series, it's currently on worlbuilding extras before the actual sequel. It's update about monthly but considering the amount of thought and worldbuilding and the size of this series I think that's pretty fast hahaha make sure to read the warnings first!

once upon a time, 很久很久以前 by gentil-minou (Flyingsuits) (M, 69k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, WIP, Modern, Canon Divergence, Transmigration, of the townwide variety, Amnesia, of the nearly everyone variety, Mystery, of the shenanigans variety, Not Everyone Dies AU, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, WWX is sad and down bad, Single Parent LWJ, except a-yuan runs away to find his other dad, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Minor Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Once Upon a Time Fusion, Curses, part of the fun is figuring out how to make these characters as miserable as possible :) ) may i offer up my wip? Updates arent thay frequent cause each chap is over 15k but im hoping to post the next chap this month!

🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 51k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad)

A-Yuan's Big Adventure by KatanaHatake (G, 13k, wangxian, WIP, Time Travel, transmigrator LSZ, Found Family, Canon Divergence, Parents LWJ & WWX, People believing WWX birthed A-Yuan, Eventual Happy Ending, Accidental Baby Acquisition)

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 273k, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, WIP, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives AU, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX's Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings)

🧡 The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal (T, 266k, WIP, WangXian, Ridiculously Long Notes, History, Canon Divergence, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF WWX)

At heart by apathyinreverie (M, 28k, wangxian, WIP, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation, but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, kind of, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ)

~*~

12. Itmf for qiongqi path divergence 🖤

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

when you're doing all the leaving (then it's never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 23k, wangxian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Sharing a Bed, Sharing Clothes, Fix-It, the inherent eroticism of under robes, Golden Core Transfer, LWJ finds out about wwx's missing core and says i have plenty to go around)

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending)

in this place where we don’t have a prayer by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 42k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WWX dies at Qiongqi path, Demonic Cultivation)

Home and the Heartland by Witch_Nova221 (T, 210k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Slow Romance, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Self-Discovery, Golden Core Reveal)

isn't there a Qiongqi Path canon divergence comp?

~*~

13. itmf fics with Lan Wangji laughing/smiling/giggling etc. The bts of The Untamed with Wang Yibo laughing his ass off are killing me and i need LWG just being happy and laughing now

~*~

14. An ITMF ask: I am looking for fic where WangXian's marriage is being arranged but one or both of them simply don't know about it until late in the game -not just "everyone knows but them" but literally they are being measured for wedding outfits and are clueless. Pining a plus! HEA pls! <3 @kimboo-york

Searching for a Heart by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, married at first sight au, this is basically modern arranged marriage, Getting Together, Reality TV AU)

Lead Me On Through by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 54k, wangxian, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Practice Kissing, practice other things, horny boys in love, questionable logic, Questionable Choices, they're dumb but cute, but dumb, but really cute, slight knives, Happy Ending)

~*~

15. itmf modern au inventor wwx, similar to kizukatana's Truth Will Out? thank you for all that u do 💗

💖 One Can Keep A Secret (If He Does Not Know It’s There)by H_Belle (T, 5k, wangxian, NHS & WWX, modern w/ cultivation, inventor WWX, secret identity, identity reveal, YLLZ WWX, rogue cultivator WWX, pining LWJ, WWX pov)

There's An App For Everything by Sweetlittlevampire (G, 4k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Rivals to Lovers, Friends To Lovers, Competition, Demon fighting, Getting Together, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Night Hunts, Wangxian x Caves is the real ship here, Happy Ending, Humour)

~*~

16. hi hi! could you recomend any fics where Lan Yuan grows up in Lotus Pier? thank you <3 @nyxiblue

What Remains After the War by Swan_Song (T, 41k, JC & LSZ, JC & JL, JL & LSZ, JL & LJY & OYZZ & LSZ, JC & WWX, WIP, Canon Divergence, LSZ is a Jiang, Good Uncle JC, Cousins JL & LSZ, JC Needs a Hug, JC Needs Therapy, The juniors solve a mystery, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Good Uncle LQR, he tries his best, LSZ Needs a Hug)

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17. ITMF any fics where other characters preferably Jin zixuan has an unrequited/one sided crush on Wei Ying. Could be any setting preferably Canon/Canon divergence or with some sort of cultivation and wangxian end game. Gimme all you have please @linossock

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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nyctophicbtch · 1 year

Text

But We’re Different

[ Lo’ak x avatar/human!reader ]

Summary: Some boys in the clan weren’t too friendly. They’d somehow convinced Lo’ak that you, a human, would never chose an outcast, let alone a na’vi, as your mate. You were left to figure out why he was unusually pulling away from you so much.

read the requests here, here and here

Warnings: not proofread, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, kissing, slightly suggestive

Word Count: 3,070

‘Don’t lose your avatar’. The scientists’ words replayed in your head, prompting a small smile from you as you lazily rolled onto your back with your eyes closed in enjoyment. The grass underneath you tickled your tail as it swayed languidly in content.

“Please never say that again.”

What?

For a second, you thought the familiar voices in the distance were all in your head until you realized they weren’t stopping. They grew louder with each passing second, pulling you unwillingly out of your blissful reverie.

“That’s gross!” Your eyes reluctantly opened as you heard footsteps in the distance and their conversation getting louder. It didn’t take long until you were greeted with the sight of Spider and Lo’ak laughing amongst themselves when they finally noticed you sprawled across the grass.

Already? you whined to yourself. The initial thought was to spend the first few rare moments as an avatar alone, and then find your friends afterwards.

“Hey, you’re finally out of your cage,” Spider pointed out, clearly amused, just as Lo’ak landed right beside you after jumping off the higher ground.

“I hate wearing those things,” you grumbled, nodding at Spider’s mask all the while stretching the sleep off your limbs. “I wish I could stay like this.”

“How does your body feel?”

“Feels nice.” You could barely hear your own soft words, rolling onto your side to face Lo’ak. Especially after being grounded from your avatar for so long. You honestly preferred being blue just because you were able to freely enjoy going outside without feeling suffocated by exopacks.

“Really?” The moment of peace was ruined as you abruptly jerked up and hissed when you felt Spider pull on your tail. “Your reflexes are good.”

Ignoring the boys’ laughter, you slapped Spider’s hand away from where he was still holding your tail.

“Bro, stop harassing her. It’s her first day out in weeks.”

“You guys are no fun.” You’d only blink and Spider had already made it up the trees, barely visible in your line of sight. “Keep up!”

You almost whined at the thought of having to get up and run around with them when you were already comfortable lying on the grass. “Can I stay here?”

“Nu uh. Norm said you gotta put those legs to use,” Lo’ak replied, urging you up to your feet.

The boy tugged on your arm, urging you to follow him through the trees and vines that blocked your path. The impatience was radiating off of him as you stumbled back and trailed slower behind him. It wasn’t as if you were unskilled in your feet. You were just a little rusty after weeks of not being in this body, that’s all.

“Slow down.”

When Lo’ak looked back and noticed how terribly shaped you actually were, a frown etched its way onto his face and he eased his movements to match your pace, placing his palm on the small of your back as some sort of support.

“You okay?”

“Yeah-“ before you could continue any further, you felt yourself trip on a large twig and stumbled on your feet, catching the way the corner of his lips curved the tiniest bit upwards. “I’m great.”

You steadied yourself with a firm hand to Lo’ak’s chest since the blue boy was too busy holding back his laugh to stop you from falling.

“Stop laughing,” you groaned, lightly shoving him away when you found yourself unable to hold your own smile.

“Okay, okay.” Lo’ak’s laughter ceased as he pried the hand that kept shoving him away from his chest. “Truce.”

Truce. That wasn’t the case, considering how Lo’ak playfully bested and annoyed you the whole way through the forest. You were far too relieved when you finally arrived by a particular waterfall, knowing full well that Lo’ak would finally stop teasing and pulling at your tail.

“What’d you need anyways?” asked the blue boy trailing behind you.

“I just left my journal.”

“You really can’t just leave it for a day?” Lo’ak received no response from you who most likely had not heard what he’d said, seeming as you had already disappeared behind the waterfall.

“Come on, it’s like you’ve replaced me with that thing ever since I gave it to you,” Lo’ak whined as he came up beside you, peeking over your shoulder to see the leather book in your hands.

“I didn’t replace you, skxawng.”

For a moment, you’d caught him off guard with your swift movements. He staggered back a little when you lightly hit his forehead with a finger, a frown etching its way onto his face.

“You care more about that thing than me,” he protested, purposely ignoring how you’d just flicked him on the forehead. “Are all sky people like this? I can’t see my dad finding paper inside a piece of leather interesting .”

“I don’t think he would. He doesn’t seem like the artsy type.”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it, I don’t actually know what he liked. Dad doesn’t bring up his human life often,” Lo’ak mentioned.

“We could always go to the lab after seeing the village. He’s kept some of the human stuff he brought from earth.”

As if trying to annoy you on purpose, the boy sat on your bed as you were about to leave, knowing full well he wouldn’t budge. He had a taunting smile on his face, grinning up at you as innocently as possible.

“Come on. You did this the last time we came here too.”

“I like your bed.”

It wasn’t the typical human bed you were used to in your original form, but it maintained the same concept. You did as much as you could to salvage the comfort of your room back in the lab out here using Pandoran medium and you’d say it had exceeded your expectations.

If your human form was to lay here, it would say otherwise though. The harsh surface would scratch and prick at your soft skin until it itched for days.

“Come on.” You tugged at his wrist in hopes that he’d get up, earning a dissatisfied groan from the Sully boy.

“Why are we in such a hurry?”

“I haven’t seen the village in weeks.” A final tug at his wrist got him staggering out of your bed, his palm instinctively finding its way to the small of your back.

“Calm down!” You rushed out of the cave’s entrance and left Lo’ak to grumble as he followed your footsteps, trudging through the water.

“He likes you too much for his own good.”

“Kiri,” you whined.

“He just won’t admit it because you’re human and he’s a skxawng who’s afraid of rejection.”

Your cheeks flushed, only validating Kiri’s accusations even more. Fortunately, the sounds of distant shouting outside saved you from further embarrassment. You left the tent without much thought.

“What did I say, boy?”

The sight before you wasn’t anything new. You’d seen Jake scolding his sons a couple of times, but you’d never seen them this tense.

“I only asked one thing of you. One! And you still managed to disobey me.” Lo’ak had his head hung low, suddenly finding the ground much more interesting than anything else. You could see his ears perk up a tiny bit when he heard your footsteps approaching.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Next time you pull something like that I’m gonna knot your tail. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy gritted out, blinking a couple of times to keep the tears at bay when he heard snickering from the Na’vi behind him. Jake hadn’t seemed to notice though, or he was too angry to care and left towards the other direction.

You wanted to do nothing more than to punch the boys making fun of him to shut their mouths close, but your eyes softened when you saw Lo’ak looking up and closing his eyes to prevent tears from escaping them and decided to approach him instead.

“Lo’ak,” you softly called out, drawing his attention to you as you reached a hand to place on his arm. When he turned to look at you, your heart ached at the hurt on his face.

“Leave me alone.” He’d intended it to sound harsher than it had come out, but his hesitation seeped through when he attempted to pull his arm away from you, confirming that he didn’t actually want you to leave him alone.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he continued when you made no move to leave. The small crowd that had formed started to dissipate and people left, minding their own business. “I didn’t even start it. They all think I’m easy to mess with because I’m an outcast. Because I’m a halfbreed.” He spat out the last word, as if it was a curse he was stuck with.

He didn’t need to explain to you. You didn’t need an explanation. This had happened countless times, where boys provoke and make fun of him. But from the looks of it, he had lost his composure this time.

“I mean, look at my brother. You don’t see people making fun of him everyday.” You caught the way he subtly eyed his fingers and you slowly wandered your hand lower.

The quick and curious movements of his tail captured your attention and you decided to test the waters. You intertwined your fingers with his, noticing how they fit perfectly against each other.

“I’m as much an outcast as you are, Lo.”

“That’s- that’s not what I meant.” Now he just felt bad. He’d unintentionally called you an outcast too and he felt his heart drop when he’d realized.

But your gentle gaze assured him that you hadn’t been hurt or offended by his words, and he let out a small breath of relief, grasping your arm with his other hand almost desperately.

“You’re much more than just a halfbreed,” you stated, placing a hand on his chest. The sully’s gaze dropped to your hand and he was almost certain you could feel his heart’s increasing pace. “You have a strong, kind heart. They do not see that. But I see it.”

And I see you, you wanted to scream out. You desperately wished to say the words that had been caught in your throat far too many times. And maybe Lo’ak wished he had heard it from you as well.

But the unspoken barrier between you two still remained. He couldn’t care less what his people would think of you as his, but he was too sure that you wouldn’t see someone like him. Someone of different species; an outcast. A failure.

So he did what he’d always done. He retracted away from you. From your touch. And you didn’t even try to hide your disappointment, looking like a kicked puppy with the hurt evident in your eyes.

“Why don’t we look at those human stuff your dad stashed in the lab. It might cheer you up,” you suggested, averting the topic in attempts to dismiss the sting from his open rejection.

“Yeah.” It was only mere seconds before the two of you were giggling as you ran through the forest, hand in hand, forgetting the past few minutes that had just happened.

The lab wasn’t far from the village, and you silently thanked Max for bringing Jake’s old stuff to the new location of the lab. It was just on the outskirts of the forest, covered by a few overgrown leaves and vines that you could easily spot.

“They gathered his old stuff from the old lab and kept it in a box,” you said, parting your hand from his to push through the doors.

“Hey, Norm,” you greeted when you caught sight of the familiar scientist.

“Hey, kid, Lo’ak.”

“You know where Max keeps Jake’s old stuff?” Your eyes wandered around the lab, curious to what could’ve changed in a few hours, tail swaying leisurely behind you.

“Yeah, in the storage room. Why?”

“I’m taking Lo’ak to a trip down the memory lane.”

“Alright, but don’t go making a mess in there,” he warned, knowing full well what the two of you were capable of. “And go give your avatar a break. Your human body could use some attention.”

You looked to Lo’ak, finding his eyes already on yours as he grabbed a mask from one of the stands.

“Go ahead. I’ll meet you in your unit,” he assured.

It wasn’t as if he had never seen you in your human form. He’d done this plenty of times and was used to you having to switch from your avatar to avoid draining either bodies.

The boy gave you a small smile before leaving the room, most likely to go find your link unit.

“I’m serious, kid. I better not find the storage room in shambles when I come back.”

“No way,” you deadpanned. “Your dad read comics?”

“How do they even make these?” Lo’ak ignored your question, eyeing the characters drawn on the front cover. He held onto the edge of the comic he fished from one of the boxes, lifting it above his head so he could inspect the overlapping pages.

“There’s so much… detail.”

“It’s called printing.” You smiled at how innocently curious he was, rummaging through some more boxes.

“And he has action figures?” That certainly caught Lo’ak’s attention. He dropped the comic and raised his fingers to touch the plastic toy, slowly tilting his head in amusement.

“They look like the toys Tuk plays with, but less- wooden.”

You handed the action figure to let Lo’ak inspect it, digging through the box only to find the entire thing filled with action figures representing mythological characters back on earth.

“Didn’t take your dad for a mythology fan.”

“What do you use this for?” He had pulled out a cylindrical container, something too heavy to carry around with your frail human body.

“That’s for water. We have to buy clean water back on earth.”

“What? You guys don’t even have access to water?”

“Not with most of the planet dying, no.” It wasn’t as if you really knew how it felt living on your dying planet though. You’d spent your entire life on Pandora, only picking up little bits of earth’s culture from the scientists in the lab.

“Yikes. I see why you came here.”

“I was born here, skxawng.” You hit the back of his head, earning a hearty laugh in return.

“Really? You were? I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he gasped, placing a hand above his heart in exaggeration. He had only broken his composure once you pulled on his ear, hearing a wince leave him when you dragged the boy towards you.

“You’re so aggressive. Are you sure you’re human?”

“Maybe I spend too much time with you.”

A grin made its way to his face before it was quickly swept away and a faint frown formed in its place, his eyes saddening. You felt your own frown forming, mirroring his sudden actions.

This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. You were just trying to get him to forget the stupid boys. Did you do something wrong? Say anything offensive?

“Lo’ak-“

“Maybe you do spend too much time with me.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“Just- think of it,” he said angrily. “Everyone in the clan loves you, even more than they do me. You can see the disappointment in their eyes when you come back, hand in hand with me. You would be so much better off if I wasn’t getting you into trouble all the time.”

“That’s not true-“

“You know it is.” If you were in your avatar right now, your ears would slump down the furthest it could go. Where did this come from? He was never this upset when it came to you spending so much time with him.

“Is this about At’wey?”

His lack of response told you everything you needed to know.

“What they say is not true.”

“You don’t get it.” Lo’ak ran a hand through his braids in frustration. “It’s not just about getting you in trouble.”

His tail was flicking from side to side, agitated. The sully clearly looked conflicted whether to repeat what the boys said to him or to keep it to himself.

“Look,” he said after a moment of hesitation, lowering himself to sit on the floor in front of you. “They know you’re a sore spot for me.”

The perplexed look you gave only encouraged him to explain further.

“What makes you think she’d want you? She’s human. You’re na’vi. That wouldn’t even work. There’s plenty of humans in the lab she can choose from,” he mimicked their lines as accurately as his memory would allow him.

“What’s worse is that I’m not just different from you. I get you into trouble all the time and I always mess things up.”

Your frown deepened when his gaze turned to the floor and you mustered the courage to cup the side of his face with your hand.

“I don’t care about those things, Lo’ak. I’ve already chosen you. I see you.”

His eyes finally met yours and you swore his face visibly lit up at your words. You didn’t miss the way his eyes shifted lower, especially with the way he was shamelessly eyeing your lips, his own slightly parted in a trance.

“I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

A small smile made its way to your lips and Lo’ak felt his heart stutter in its cage. You were so close. And he could just lean in.

“I see you.”

Your lips were on his in less than a second, drawing a tiny gasp out of his mouth. You felt so small against him, and your hands were warm wherever they lingered, leaving his skin melting under your touch.

His large hands trailed down from your hips, staying on your ass for a bit too long before bringing them further down towards the back of your thighs. The Sully caught you off guard by pulling you into his lap, and your eyes opened for a brief second, catching a glimpse at the way his tail suggestively swayed from side to side against the cold floor.

“Lo’ak,” you practically whined, causing the na’vi to pull away from your lips and bury his face into the crook of your neck, gently nipping at the soft skin.

“Yes?”

“I think Norm heard us.”

#lo’ak #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x human!reader #lo’ak x avatar!reader #avatar the way of water #fanfic #oneshot #imagine #fluff #fanfiction #female reader #x reader #avatar #drabble

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sister-lucifer · 2 years

Note

Question. Would you do a version of that 'Can I ride you till I feel better' fic but with bottom/sub Obey Me boys? Because that's some tasty writing but I'm not big on me or my MC being on the receiving end.

“Can I ride you until I feel better?” (Part 2)

Read part 1 here

Demon brothers x Reader (Separately)

This time, it’s the brothers’ turn to have a bad day, and they can think of one thing that will make them feel better.

Reader is male

Content/Warnings: Riding, pre established relationships, implied dom/top reader

like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and it really helps me out

*Asmodeus is AFAB and uses he/she pronouns

Notes: Dear god nonny i am so glad you suggested this. muah i love your brain

Lucifer

He was used to being swamped with paperwork, but this past week had been even worse than usual

Today in particular had brought him to his limit

He stomped into your shared bedroom, letting the door slam behind him before sitting on the bed next to you and cradling his head in his hands

“Lucifer, love? What’s wrong, honey?” You asked softly, reaching out to rub his shoulder

“Busy day…Busier than usual, I mean,” Is all the explanation he offers, but his voice carries more than enough of his exasperation for you to see how tired he is

You sighed and opened your arms to him, and he gladly accepted your offer for a hug. He pushed you down onto your back, and you expected him to lay next to you, but instead he hovered over you

“…Luci?”

Suddenly his hands were on you, tugging at your clothes and pulling off anything he could

“I need to ride you until I feel better.”

The request was unusual, but how could you say no when he was so eager?

Besides, he deserved it for working so hard

Be aware though, he’s not going to “feel better” until veeeeery late into the night (maybe even early morning)

Mammon

You could hear Mammon whining your name all the way down the hallway before he reached your room

He threw the door open and groaned loudly, drawing it out until he flopped face first onto the bed

“Mammon?” You called, but got no response

At least not until he sat up, groaning even louder and practically tackling you into the bed. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at how dramatic he was.

“Oh Mams, what’s wrong, huh?”

“Everything! Everything about today sucks. And I didn’t even get to see you all day…”

He snuggled into you with a childish whine as you pat his head, whispering apologies and soft assurances. Apparently this wasn’t enough, though.

“I’ve missed you so bad…” He muttered into your neck, “…Can I ride you until I feel better?”

Of course you agreed, who would say no to the Great Mammon?!

Especially when he was offering to do all the work, which rarely happened

Be prepared for him to rant to you after (and maybe even during), though

On the bright side, the anger will make him go faster

Leviathan

He was so quiet, you didn’t even notice him until you heard the click of your door and looked up to see a teary Leviathan

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” You cooed, keeping your voice soft and gentle. Levi often had trouble regulating his emotions, but luckily you knew just how to help him

He sniffled as he crawled into bed, settling between your legs as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his cheek to your chest

“B…Bad day, i-is all…” He stuttered, “I-It’s really not even that big of a deal, I just…it was too much…”

You stroked his hair gently, assuring him that it was okay to be upset at the little things sometimes

You stayed this way for a long while, until Leviathan gazed up at you with an odd look; the look he gives you when he wants something but doesn’t want to ask

“Levi? Do you need something?”

“I…I know what’ll make me feel better…”

“Oh?”

You could see how flushed he was, how his face contorted in embarrassment as the next words left his mouth

“Would…would you let me ride you ‘til I feel better? P-Please?”

He deserves it, so of course you do! Besides, you wouldn’t even consider denying him when he’s asking so politely

Make sure you praise him a lot, though, and tell him how good he looks with those pretty tears streaming down his face

That’ll really make him feel better

Satan

You could tell Satan was pissy the second he walked in from the way he huffed and puffed all the way over to you

He sat down with his chin in his hand, looking awfully annoyed

“Ugh, today could not have ended soon enough.”

“That bad, huh?” You asked as you wrapped him in a hug from behind.

“Even worse. God, I hate all those idiots…”

“Well being a mean Mr. Grumpy Pants about it isn’t gonna help.”

Satan sighed, turning to you to return the hug.

“I know, I know, sorry…but I know what can.”

“Hm?”

When you looked up he was smirking down at you, and the next thing you knew he had planted himself firmly on your lap

“How about I ride you until I feel better? We can call it…stress relief.”

Well that was more than enough persuasion for you

Satan isn’t very fast or rough, but god is he thorough

You’ll both forget all your worries

Asmodeus

Ever the drama queen, Asmo practically fainted onto your bed

Even if his dramatics were charming, you couldn’t help but scoff a bit under your breath

“Asmo…? Is something wrong?”

“Oh, my love!” She drawled, “You’ve no idea! Today was absolutely abysmal, abysmal I tell you! I could just cry…Or, I could if my makeup wasn’t so perfect.”

Priorities.

Being as affectionate as she is, it was no surprise when she pulled you down into the bed and into a hug

He gave you a brief outline of the days terrible events, though with plenty of sidetracks about how unfair the world is to him and how fragile he is

When she was finally done, she sighed loudly and cupped your face in her hand

“I could really use a pick-me-up…” He began, a sensual undertone clear in his voice

You already knew what he was going to ask; there was always one thing that made Asmo cheer up:

“Yes, Asmo, you can ride me until you feel better.”

He squealed with excitement, mood already improving and he tugged off your pants and threw them to the floor

“Oh thank you, thank you my sweet baby! Oh, I’ll make sure you feel as good as I do, don’t worry…ah, I’ve got butterflies already! Hurry, hurry!”

Beelzebub

Beel creaked open your door, calling your name quietly to see if you were in there

He was never ever sad when he had food in his hand, so the fact that he looked so down while stuffing his face with a burger was worrying

“Why the long face, Beel? Did something happen?”

“Just a crummy day…y’know, they happen sometimes…”

“Aw, I’m sorry, Beel. Wanna come sit down and talk to me?”

He’s quick to oblige, shoving the rest of the burger into his mouth and wiping his hands before sitting with you on the bed

You peck his cheek with a loving smile that he gladly returns

You cant help but notice the way he pauses and looks you up and down, and you can almost see the gears turning in his head

“Beel? Do you need something?”

“Well, uh…I know this is a weird request, but…Aw, forget it—“

“No, no,” You reply, taking his hand in yours. “Whatever you need, Beel.”

You could see the faint blush on his cheeks now

“Okay, well…I-I was gonna ask if maybe I could, um…ride you? Until I feel better?”

He was expecting to be shot down, but he lit up when you agreed

He didn’t stop kissing you for a long while; on your lips, face, neck, but he couldn’t help it! You’re the tastiest treat of all

Belphegor

In an odd role reversal, you were the one asleep when Belphie came into your room

You were roused from your slumber when he called your name, yawning and stretching as you greeted him

He stood there awkwardly for a few moments, gaze casted towards the floor

“I know this is gonna sound kinda dumb, but…I had a bad day, could I maybe hang with you for bit?”

You smile and move the blankets, gesturing for him to come lay down

He happily snuggles up against you, basking in the lovely warmth you bring

He seems a bit restless though, which is especially odd for Belphie

“Whats wrong, Belphie? Can’t get comfy?”

“Well, no…I-I want something…”

You tilted your head to the side in confusion, waiting for him to continue

“I kinda wanna ride you…maybe it’ll make me feel better?”

Belphie never wanted to be the one doing the work, of course you said yes!

You had to make the most of this ultra rare opportunity

Although, his favorite part is getting to cuddle after

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currentfications · 6 months

Text

Ocean Eyes | Part 5

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: Friends visited you at your side hustle

Warning: Swearing, Alcohol, Flirting, Suggestive?

AN: I’m finally no longer (as) sick~ Please enjoy this chapter written definitely not when I’m delirious. Thank you all again for reading ^_^

Previous | Next

You pulled up to the club right around dusk, eyeing the still-empty streets. Soon the place would be crawling with party goers and drunken crowd, but for the time being, a moment of calm before the storm. “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” the manager of the AMON welcomed you in warmly. “We didn’t even know who was able to fill in until you called. I was worried I’ll have to let my nephew sub in…” the man in suit and sleeked back hair trailed off as he darted his eyes towards one of the bartender, who looked suspiciously like he’s been drinking the stock.

You chuckled, “thanks for giving me the stage, I’ve been cooped up the the studio for too long - it’s good to get some fresh air.” Tying your hair up into a low pony tail, you unpacked your mixer and hooked your equipment onto the speakers skilfully while the manager frantically updated their DJ roster of the night on their social media. Noticing the frantic scramble, you squatted down to the manager beneath and sighed, “relax mate, it’s a Friday night.” You’re not sure if he’s just naturally skittish or was it because of the last minute changes. Nevertheless, you comforted the man who looks like he’s on the brink of tears, “I got the jams, you got the juice. It’ll be lit.”

Turning a few dials, you started the night off with some 90’s R&B, the swinging jams served as your inauguration into South Korean music scene. You took a quick selfie to commemorate the moment, tagging the anxiety ridden manager behind you and the club with in a short caption.

“Any drinks?” The manager quickly stopped by for one last check before the rush begun.

You nodded, “do you have Maraschino cherries? Two jars of those.” He gave you a funny look for the unconventional request, but needed the sugar - plus it’s not like you were going to accept alcohol or opened drinks from strangers in an unfamiliar setting. You thanked him as you accepted the two jars, checking that the seal was intact before popping a couple into your mouth.

Throughout the next few hours, you subtly increased the amount of bass and energy to your song mixes as more patrons flooded in. A few regulars have noticed that you’re not the intended DJ of the night, but we’re all pleasantly surprised by your set list, thoroughly enjoying themselves as the music and booze flows through them.

“Y/N I LOVE YOUUUUU!!” An excited scream pierced through the roaring party-goers, you lifted your protective ear muffs to see Latrice and a few other familiar faces in the crowd. You excitedly waved back, texting her the time for when your set finishes. She nodded and flashed two thumbs up at you, before turning and leading a small horde behind her towards the bar. You squinted to get a better look at the group, but the flashing lights (and your lack of glasses) proved the task to be difficult.

You tucked a lose strand of blue hair behind your ears, returning your focus to the last hour of your set. Feeding off the crowd’s energy and getting a grasp of the general population’s music taste, the drunken party-goers were all a little disappointed when you eventually handed over to the next DJ.

Leaving the bulk of your equipment on the stage, you pulled off your bulky sweatpants, leaving a minidress behind (a very handy life hack you learned from Ling: spaghetti strapped minidresses works great under sweatpants as a tank-top-when-working and skimpy-when-partying combo). Quickly reapplying a deep marron lipstick and smudging your eyeliner, you hopped off the stage to join the girls.

“Hey mama,” you tapped your best friend at her shoulder, “thank you for coming.”

Latrice snickered and handed you a drink, “of course I had to be here for your DJ virginity in Korea! It’s monumental.” The brunette paused for a moment and waited for you to take a few more sips before opening her mouth again, “there are a few others here, be nice.”

You nodded, curious to know who tagged along. Squinting at the faces, you started to regret that whole ‘you don’t need to see music to hear music’ logic you had when you decided to not put your contacts in earlier today.

Ling, ever the party animal, was the first to jumped into your arms. “God you look a-mazing,” she chirped, “that was a such a good set!”

You spotted the rest of the Jam Republic members and waved at them over the loud music, before landing your eyes on an all too familiar dancer.

“Hey lovely,” you greeted, leaning towards her over the thumping beat. “New hair colour?” Noticing her now grey streaks, you instinctively reached out to ruffle her hair a little. She’s dressed in her usual street wear attire, an oversized hoodie and a light washed jeans effortlessly bringing out her undeniable charisma.

Bada nodded, her mouth gaping slightly open noticing what you were wearing up close. Ling’s words don’t even begin to justify the sight of you. The little laced minidress hugged your figure, a few dozens of inked work decorating your legs and thighs; as you towered over her, she accidentally glanced down your bosom before quickly looked away, finding interest in the bottom of her drink.

Flirting in a loud environment is generally not your thing, but as you were about to attempt, another dancer caught your eyes and your face dropped. Bada chuckled as Latrice immediately stepped between you and the Mannequeen member.

“We are going dancing,” Latrice lead you away by the shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in forever since they handed you the keys,” the brunette complained as she pulled you towards the dance floor.

“And who’s fault was it?” You taunted, glaring at the direction of said fault, earning an eye roll from your friend.

“I said to be nice, didn’t I?” Latrice snickered, reminding you to act civil.

You rolled your eyes right back at her, mirroring the childish behaviour. “I was wondering why you needed me to be nice with Kirsten and Ling.”

Latrice laughed and finished her drink, you quickly finishing up yours to join her dancing. You’re of course no match to the professional dancer, however as a frequent member to the Latin clubs and an occasional Barcadi dancer, you can still hold your own in a club setting (and especially when substances are involved).

Tonight was an eventful night for Bada, as she watched your set for the first time, gawked at you in that skimpy little dress, and now shocked by the way you’re shaking ass and grinding up against Latrice. A odd feeling stirred up in her, and she couldn’t quite distinct if it was intoxication or jealousy.

Noticing the tall dancer’s lingering stare, Redlic inched closer towards the choreographer and proposed a strategy. “I say we both go get our girl back,” the shorter dancer suggested, her eyeing the brunette with the wide smile.

“I’m in,” Bada nodded with resolve, not liking the sinking feeling in her guts.

Taking a deep breath, Redlic took the lead and swooped in for the Queenslander. “Baby can we have this dance?” The platinum blonde dancer poured, batting her eyelashes at a beaming Latrice.

You feigned gagged at the sight, gently shoving Latrice towards her date, jokingly mouthing ‘traitor’ as they walked away.

“Can I have this dance?” Bada asked from behind you.

A smile tugged on the corner on your lips as you turned around, “collaborators, you two.”

Bada mockingly acted shock as she told you “Your accusation would have repercussions,” before challenging you to a dance off.

You took her hands and placed them around your neck before you lean forward to whisper in her ears, “challenge accepted.” You looked down at her in the flashing club lightning, and you could’ve swear you saw her flushing red. Chuckling at the effect you had on the famous choreographer, you teasingly wiggled your hips at her to the best of the music.

She bit her flushed lips unconsciously, gulping hard as she look at at you through her long lashes. When you did that little twerk, the devil on Bada’s shoulder won and she gently tugged on the nape of your hair with a firm grip. Your eyes widen in surprise as a mischievous smile took over Bada’s plump lips.

Bada’s face was inches away from your neck, and you can feel her warm breath on you as her breathing quickened. You locked gaze with the dancer as you wrapped your arms around her back. For a moment there the pounding music faded away, as you two contemplated if it was the lust or alcohol pulsing through your veins.

The tightening of her grip around your neck was a sign for you - as your grip on her hips was for her. You closed the distance between the two of you, and your lips met in a flurry of drunken daze and thirst-filled trance. Her lips supple as yours soft, you both eagerly indulged in the heated kiss. You felt a smirk forming on her lips before she muttered, “toilet?”

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily @lil-elliesgf @rubywonu @wiselight

#bada lee x reader #bada lee #fanfic #swf2 #swf2 x reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months

Text

saturate me, i can't get enough

rated e 4,066 words cw: please read full note below the cut in regards to terminology used in this ficlet/warnings A really big thank you/shoutout to @patchworkgargoyle for proofreading this and giving me a few great suggestions to make sure this was absolutely perfect for @steves-strapcollection's birthday! Also available on ao3.

This labor of love (and smut) is for my favorite transmasc Steve truther, Gerry. I am so grateful for your contributions to this fandom, and I am even more grateful that you welcome me into your chaos (Tig threads I'm lookin' at you 👀). While I may still not think my writing could be a gift to anyone, let alone a talented writer like you, I will just be positive that you'll enjoy this for what it is which is soft and tender fuckin'.

A VERY SERIOUS NOTE FOR EVERYONE ELSE: I am very much a cis woman. I spoke with Ger before even starting on this because I wanted to make sure he was comfortable with me even attempting to write transmasc Steve. I am using masculine and feminine terms for lower anatomy that he uses in his own fics and his own life with his express permission to do so. If you think this might be a trigger for you, please don't read. I wrote this specifically for Ger, and realize that it may not be for everyone. Taking care of yourself is the most important thing!

--------------------------------------

If Eddie had known what exactly he was getting into when he asked Steve on a date, he probably would have done it a lot sooner.

He tugged on the silk ropes around his wrist, just tight enough to keep him in place on the bed, but still loose enough that he knew he could pull out of them if he had to.

Steve refused to tie them any tighter.

“Need you to feel safe with me, Eds,” he’d said with a soft kiss to his lips.

As if he could feel anything other than safe with him. As if he hadn’t spent the last five or so months falling in love with him, learning what makes Steve Steve, figuring out how he could fit in Steve’s life.

Somehow, Eddie ended up naked first, tied up in his own bed, breaths heavy with anticipation of what was to come.

And he had very little idea of what was to come.

He’d already been surprised at how quickly Steve took charge of their date, their first kiss, the torturous ride back to Eddie’s apartment where Steve’s hand just brushed against his cock every minute or so.

Now, he was at Steve’s mercy entirely.

Just the thought of Steve leaving him like this while he touched, and kissed, and bit every part of his body was enough to have him leaking.

“Can’t believe how good you look like this,” Steve groaned from his spot between Eddie’s legs.

Oh, his shirt was off.

Finally.

Eddie whined as he saw Steve’s one and only tattoo, a baseball bat with nails sticking out of it, on his left side just under the scar from his top surgery.

He wanted to trace the outline with his tongue, maybe mark it up so that it wasn’t just black ink, cover him in purples and blues that would take days to heal.

But he wouldn’t be able to do that now, not with his hands tied above his head and his legs spread wide enough that he couldn’t get leverage to pull himself up or Steve down.

Next time.

“Steve, please,” Eddie begged, though he wasn’t sure what he was begging for at this point other than touch.

“Sorry, baby. You’re just so distracting.”

Eddie knew he was blushing, could feel the heat on his face and neck, on his chest.

His hands were sweaty where he had them clenched into fists, somehow already overwhelmed before even being properly touched.

Steve’s fingers glided across his chest, pausing to pay attention to his only nipple, laughing to himself when Eddie jumped.

“Sensitive? Maybe this one got all the nerves from the other one being gone,” Steve smirked as he leaned down to flick his tongue over the soft, pink flesh of his one remaining nipple.

It was like an electric shock, a fire burning through his veins and Steve’s tongue was the match that lit it.

He arched his back, chasing the feeling as far as he physically could, pouting when Steve pulled away.

“Hey,” Steve touched his cheek, smiling when Eddie relaxed into the touch. “I know we’re moving fast, but I kinda wanna take my time with you. Is that okay?”

Eddie nodded, thankful that Steve said it first.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea of going as far as they could as fast as they could, not at all. Eddie would be happy with anything.

But taking their time?

He would take all night.

“Wanted this for so long, baby. You have no idea,” Steve whispered, breath hot against his lips as he leaned back in.

“Me too,” Eddie’s voice trembled.

Steve’s palm settled against his chest, no doubt feeling how hard and fast Eddie’s heart was beating, but not saying anything about it.

Eddie could feel his pulse in his fingertips, in his toes, in his hair.

“You like being tied up?”

Eddie nodded, biting his bottom lip between his teeth and letting his mind drift to thoughts of being like this hours.

“You want me to do what I want? Not let you pick?”

Eddie didn’t even care about his teasing tone, his knowing smirk.

He wasn’t asking for an answer, he was asking for control, and he already had both.

“I think you want me to take over, ride your face maybe? And then your cock?”

Steve was spot on.

Eddie couldn’t count the amount of times he’d pictured that exact scenario in his head. Just last night, while he was cooking dinner, he thought about the way Steve would taste, how he would look while Eddie took him apart with his tongue, his fingers.

He hadn’t even gotten to picture his cock inside him when the fire alarm started beeping to let him know he was burning his supper.

“Yeah, that’s what you want. Don’t even have to say it, I can see it all over your face,” Steve teased.

He could only imagine.

Steve got off the bed, shushing Eddie’s whines with a quick kiss to his forehead.

“Just getting everything else off, Eds.”

It was said to calm him down, but it just caused him to cant his hips upwards, seeking any type of friction on his leaking cock.

Steve’s eyes never left him as he stripped his jeans and boxers off in one fell swoop, his feet stepping out of the pant legs as quickly as he could without tripping.

He joined him on the bed again, settling between his legs and staring down at him, eyes holding so much affection that Eddie wasn’t sure what to do with it, where to put it all.

When they made eye contact, Steve smiled softly down at him.

“You okay with this?” He asked, wanting to be sure before they got too carried away.

“More than okay,” Eddie nodded. “Wanna taste you so bad, Stevie.”

“I can make that happen.”

Steve untied one of his hands from the bedframe, but didn’t let it touch any part of him yet.

“This is only so you can tap out if you need to. You’re not allowed to touch anywhere except my leg. Three taps if you need to stop, okay?” Eddie nodded. “Show me.”

Eddie waited for Steve to climb up a bit, straddle his chest, the warmth between his legs enough to make him forget for a moment what he was supposed to be doing.

“Eddie. Show me,” Steve’s voice was stern enough to grab his attention again, and Eddie focused on making his shaking hand tap his thigh three times. “Good boy. You can keep your hand there if it’ll help you remember, but no moving unless it’s to tap.”

Eddie’s head felt cloudy already, something he so rarely experienced with anyone, something he hoped he’d get to keep experiencing with Steve from now on.

Steve shifted back down for long enough to leave a kiss on Eddie’s lips, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth as he let out a laugh.

“I can feel your heartbeat between my thighs. A bit excited, aren’t you?” Steve teased him again, but Eddie wasn’t complaining. If anything, it just made his heartbeat louder with anticipation at what he was about to get.

“Need you,” Eddie managed to say.

Steve didn’t wait any longer, scooting his body up so his pussy was level with Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie groaned, lifted his head an inch so he could be even closer.

He needed it, needed him. He couldn’t wait any longer to get a taste.

Eddie’s tongue lapped at Steve’s hole, the only part he could reach at the moment, but it was enough.

Steve let out a long moan, gravelly voice letting out a long “yes” as he rocked his hips forward to get Eddie’s tongue inside.

Eddie closed his eyes and let himself be surrounded by Steve.

His slightly musky smell, the sweat that was rolling down his thighs, the surprisingly sweet slick dripping from his pussy, all of it was better than Eddie could have possibly imagined.

The noises got louder as Steve adjusted himself directly over Eddie’s face.

He pulled away just enough for Eddie to catch his breath, but Eddie didn’t want to catch his breath.

“Need your cock, please,” Eddie begged, not caring if he was breaking an unspoken rule, not caring if he suffocated for it.

But he didn’t get in trouble. In fact, he got exactly what he wanted when Steve settled back down, his dick rubbing against Eddie lips in silent instruction.

Eddie opened his mouth wide, stuck out his tongue, and moaned.

“God you’re so good,” Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand on his thigh, squeezing as he rocked back and forth, taking things slower than Eddie expected him to.

Eddie whimpered, letting out what little breath he had as Steve rested more of his weight on his tongue.

“You made me so wet just laying there, all tied up for me, hng,” Steve groaned.

The hand squeezing Eddie’s moved to the headboard, giving Steve just a bit more leverage to bear down and chase his own release on Eddie’s tongue.

Eddie could feel his fingernails digging into Steve’s thighs, but he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stop unless Steve made him.

He could feel slick and drool dripping down his chin, his cheeks, his neck, probably making a mess of his hair and the pillow under him, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Steve was making low groaning noises now, his pace getting faster every few thrusts back and forth.

Eddie opened his eyes, wanting to try to see what Steve looked like from this angle.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Steve’s head was thrown back, his arm muscles straining as he held onto the bed, leg muscles and stomach tensing as his pleasure started to crest.

The flush that Eddie had barely gotten to enjoy before was now covering his hairy chest and his neck, a few drops of sweat dripping to his stomach.

Eddie hoped he could lick them up after Steve came.

Steve let out a loud whine and one of his hands fell to Eddie’s hair, his fingers tugging at his roots in a way that reminded him he had no control over any of this.

Eddie decided to take matters into his own hands the best that he could, curling his tongue into a sharper point so that on the next thrust, Steve’s dick was given more pointed pressure.

“Fuck!” Steve yelled out. He looked down at Eddie, hair flopping into his face. “You wanna suck it, baby? You can if you want.”

He sounded so close, breathlessly framing his own wants as something Eddie wanted. And Eddie did want those things.

He was starting to realize he wanted everything with Steve.

It should have been a scary thought, especially when this was just the ending of their first date, but instead of worrying about it, Eddie used all the energy and muscle he could to lift his head up and start to suck on his dick.

“That’s it,” Steve panted, holding Eddie’s head against him, not giving him a chance to move away again. “You’re so good, baby. Gonna make me cum so hard, fuck.”

Eddie started to nod, and the extra movement seemed to set Steve off.

He felt Steve’s thighs clench, then loosen, then clench again, his hand tightening in Eddie’s hair, and a long moan left his body.

Eddie moaned too, and the vibration sent Steve over the edge.

Steve slowed his pace, but didn’t get up, letting Eddie slowly lick along his folds, gathering up the slick dripping out of him.

When Eddie’s tongue brushed over his cock again, he flinched, but let out a huff of a laugh.

“Sorry, baby, you got me so oversensitive already. You’re too good at that,” Steve said, still trying to catch his breath.

“Good at what? Being used?” Eddie managed to ask, voice hoarse.

Steve looked down at him as he moved down to settle against his stomach instead.

“Good at being good for me,” he finally said, seriousness ruined by the hint of fondness in his tone and smile.

“Always wanna be good for you, Stevie,” Eddie admitted.

Steve looked at him for a moment, searched his face for any sign of him lying or being too sex-drunk to be realistic.

But whatever was on Eddie’s face must have shown him that he was serious.

“Yeah, baby. I think you could be,” Steve leaned down to kiss him, licking into his mouth like he wanted to taste himself on Eddie’s lips and tongue, like he wanted to know what they tasted like together.

Eddie felt his cock pulse, felt the tug in his stomach that let him know he was probably much closer than he should be just from eating Steve out for five minutes.

He didn’t have time to be embarrassed though; Steve was moving down his body further, reaching a hand back to touch his cock.

“Wait!” Eddie leaned his head away.

Steve pulled his hand away and looked at him, frowning as he took in the panicked look on Eddie’s face.

“I just, um, I’m close. Like, pretty sure if you touch me, I will cum all over your hand and probably never be able to look you in the eyes again.”

Steve snorted out a laugh.

“What’s wrong with that?” Steve asked, slowly tracing his fingers across Eddie’s waistline, not even looking as he got closer to his cock.

“I…I don’t know?” Eddie admitted.

And truly, he had no idea why he shouldn’t cum. That was the goal of this, and Steve was making it pretty clear he didn’t mind if he did, might even prefer if he did.

The only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want any of this to end.

“Eds, you’ve been so good for me, I kinda want you to feel good, too. Unless you really don’t want to-”

“No! I do!” Eddie ignored the way Steve was trying to cover his laughter. “I just thought you wanted to ride me.”

“Ohhhh. I see. You’re being selfish.”

Eddie’s mouth snapped shut, teeth audibly clacking together.

No one had ever called him selfish in bed, not even jokingly.

But Steve’s tone wasn’t joking. His face wasn’t joking.

“I guess you think I don’t wanna see you squirming because I’m wringing the third orgasm from you in less than an hour? Is that it?”

“Uh…”

Steve clicked his tongue.

“I planned on you begging to stop soon enough. Unless you want to stop now? Seems like it might be hard to go to sleep like that, though.”

Steve’s brow raised as he glanced behind him for a moment at Eddie’s red and dripping cock, then looked back at Eddie.

“No, please don’t stop. I…can I be inside you?” Eddie was desperate, and didn’t care if he sounded like it.

“You wanna cum inside me? Fill me up good, make sure I feel who I belong to?” Steve asked as he slowly moved back further, his hand firmly grasping the base of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie whined, bucking his hips up, but not making the contact he needed.

“You can if you promise to clean me up after,” Steve’s hand slid up Eddie’s dick slowly, the pressure not nearly enough to satisfy him, but enough to make him whine.

“I promise. Please,” Eddie nodded, his one free hand making a fist in the sheets while his still tied up hand tugged on the binds.

Steve didn’t respond with words, just sat back and guided Eddie’s cock along the inner lips of his cunt, moaning at the sensation.

“So warm,” Eddie groaned.

“Gonna get me all wet again, baby,” Steve rocked his hips slowly, teasing the tip along his folds and against his entrance. “You’re leaking worse than I am.”

Which may be true at this point. Eddie had spent enough time licking up as much of his mess as possible.

Steve sat down on his cock with no warning.

He hissed, clenching his fists and curling his toes to fight off the impending orgasm.

Absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the way Steve’s pussy sucked him in, clenching around him in a way that left him shivering and panting.

“Good?” Steve asked, smug grin the only thing keeping Eddie from losing it completely.

“Yes, yeah, so good, fuck,” Eddie threw his head back, arching his back as Steve slowly lifted himself up and dropped back down.

Fuck, Eddie wasn’t gonna be able to hold off. He’d just have to live with the embarrassment.

Steve reached up to untie his hand, grabbing his wrist and massaging it in his own hands as he moved his hips in circles.

“Wait, you didn’t-”

“Yeah, I did.”

“When?” Eddie knew his brain hadn’t been working for a while now, but he was certain his eyes had been. Steve hadn’t stretched himself on his fingers this entire time, and going from just Eddie’s tongue barely breaching his entrance to suddenly sitting on his cock, no matter how wet he was, had to be at least a little painful.

“Bathroom when we got home,” Steve shrugged.

Steve had been fingering himself in the bathroom not even an hour ago. Without Eddie. Without even making a noise.

God, Eddie was so fucked. Literally.

“You okay, baby?” Steve asked, smug grin back in place as he guided Eddie’s hands to his own hips. “Think you can do this part or do I have to do everything?”

Eddie gripped his hips, hoping his fingers would leave bruises, and let himself have this. It may only last for another minute, but he was going to make it worth every second.

He lifted Steve up, then dropped him down, smirking at the loud yelp Steve let out.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard later, this is just a preview,” Eddie growled out.

“Promise?” Steve gasped as Eddie shoved his hips up as he pulled Steve down.

“Swear. Every night you want me to from now on, Stevie,” Eddie slowed his thrusting, felt the tension building in his abdomen.

Steve groaned as he placed his hands on Eddie’s chest and started lifting his hips up on his own, clenching as he moved up Eddie’s cock.

He quickened his pace, little whimpers leaving him every time his ass met Eddie’s thighs.

“You feel so good, Stevie, gonna cum,” Eddie whined as his thighs clenched.

“Yes, yes, please. You’ve been so good, Eds,” Steve nodded, not pausing for a second.

Eddie’s eyes closed without his permission, Steve’s words hitting him right in the chest, making his breath leave him in one long, drawn-out moan.

Steve didn’t slow down, lacing his fingers with Eddie’s and pushing them backwards onto the sheets as he rode Eddie through his orgasm.

“Kiss me, please,” Eddie begged, opening his eyes to look up at Steve’s flushed face. Sweat was beading along his hairline, bangs flopping into his eyes.

Steve’s lips hovered over Eddie’s, not quite making contact, but close enough for their breaths to mingle together, for the small whimpers Eddie was unintentionally letting out to be swallowed by Steve’s hungry tongue as it grazed against his own.

Eddie was coherent enough to pull one of his hands loose, reaching up to cup Steve’s jaw as he chased his second orgasm of the night.

“Can I?” Eddie asked, moving his hand down his neck, tracing a finger along his collarbone. He looked up at Steve’s wide eyes, felt his pace slow to a stop.

“Can you…?” Steve asked, breathless as he tried to figure out what Eddie was trying to ask him.

“Can I touch your cock? Want you to come on mine.”

Eddie felt Steve clench around him, his cock almost over sensitive enough for it to be painful.

“Yeah, I’m close,” Steve admitted, pulling his other hand away to sit back so Eddie had easier access to his dick.

He was dripping, and Eddie’s cum was leaking from his hole now that he’d stopped moving and Eddie was starting to get soft.

Eddie’s fingers gathered up as much as they could, gliding down to where his cock was still inside him and away a few times, just to tease.

“Eddie…”

“Sorry, sorry. Just like touching you,” Eddie smiled up at him, at the way Steve’s back was arched, at the way his thighs were trembling with the effort of holding himself up.

Steve grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to his dick, impatience finally taking over.

“I like you touching me too, but if I don’t get to come again soon, you won’t touch me again for the rest of the night,” Steve snarked.

Eddie loved him.

He didn’t hesitate to curl his fingers so his knuckles rested against the sides of his dick, still teasing, but at least where Steve wanted it now. He didn’t move for a moment, wanted Steve to be desperate enough to rock forward.

“Eddie, please,” Steve whined.

“Look who’s begging now,” Eddie teased. “You’re so hard, sweetheart. Should’ve told me you were this close earlier. Would’ve taken care of you.”

Steve whimpered, shaking his head as Eddie’s knuckles started dragging up and down his dick.

Watching Steve fall apart above him like this, making him fall apart, especially when he’d been the one in control all night, was making Eddie feel unstoppable.

This was all he ever wanted: making Steve feel good in any way Steve wanted or needed.

Eddie started jerking his fingers faster, watching as Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Fuuuuuck,” Steve groaned, shifting his hips up for more pressure, for anything else he could possibly get.

“That’s it, Stevie. Wanna make you feel good. Wanna be good for you.”

And just like Steve’s words had done for Eddie before, Eddie’s must have been the final straw for Steve.

Steve’s thighs shook as he came, his fingers digging into Eddie’s shoulders as he fell forward, trapping his hand against his pulsing dick.

“Hmm,” Steve moaned out as his grasp loosened, leaving half-moons in Eddie’s skin.

Eddie knew he would be hard again soon. At this rate, he wouldn’t be surprised if he got hard while still inside Steve.

But Steve’s eyes opened, and Eddie somehow fell further.

“I don’t wanna stop,” Steve whispered, leaning in to kiss along his jawline, letting his teeth gently brush against his chin before pecking his lips.

“I’ve got perfectly good fingers. Or…” Eddie leaned up to kiss him, smirking when he felt Steve grind against him. “You could also fuck me.”

Steve’s responding groan was muffled by Eddie’s chest, a laugh immediately following.

“As much as I would love to, and will as soon as I have energy, I was thinking maybe we could just…stay like this?” Steve looked up towards the end, a pink blush coating his cheeks unlike anything Eddie had ever seen on him before.

Steve didn’t get embarrassed or nervous, he didn’t get flustered, at least not where others could see him.

He was Mr. Charming, the smoothest guy around, the one who always knew how to respond in a flirty situation.

But right now, all Eddie saw was vulnerability, his eyes mirroring back the love Eddie felt but hadn’t put into words.

“Like this or on our sides?” Eddie whispered, not wanting the moment to be broken.

“Like this for now.”

Eddie gave a single nod, not mentioning that they should probably clean up a little, or the fact that Robin would be home soon and the bedroom door was wide open.

Steve kissed his chest before he settled with his head in the crook of his neck, breath hot against Eddie’s pulse point.

Eddie’s cock was hard again inside Steve, but both of them ignored it, savoring the feeling of finally having each other.

Steve was asleep quickly, and Eddie let his mind wander as he traced his fingers up and down Steve’s back.

This first date felt a lot like the beginning of a long future.

–

When Eddie woke up the next morning, his cock was in Steve’s mouth, and Steve already had two fingers in his hole, lube slowly dripping between his cheeks.

“What a way to wake up,” Eddie moaned.

Steve pulled off of him, already smirking, lips red and glistening with spit.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Stevie. Keep going,” Eddie’s voice was rough from sleep.

“You got it, baby.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #transmasculine steve harrington #light d/s #soft dom steve harrington #sub eddie munson

184 notes · View notes

ferida-kahlo · 10 months

Text

Michael Berzatto: NFSW Alphabet

(I apologize for the gif I chose but also... I don't. It's perfect)

⚠️ Warnings: SMUT (light mention of chocking and spanking)

Notes: I tried to make the scenarios as gender neutral as possible. Hope you enjoy!

Also, two PSAs: 1) this is the first ever smut thing I publish; 2) English is my 2nd language, so please be gentle! But also feel free to let me know what you think 💕

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

He's not super affectionate, but he will check on you (mostly for the macho validation). Probably with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle and a cheeky "so... that was fun huh". If he's invested in the relationship, he will uncounsciously begin cleaning you up, after particularly rough sexy times, and bringing you a glass of water.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Of their own - I think he is very proud of his hair, arms and hands

Of their lovers - I'm like 1000% sure this guy is an ass and legs man. Also: tummies!

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

He's got a thing for facials, if his partner is up for it

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

When he types "You" on the search engine, the automatic result is YouPorn. Interpret that as you will (this man watches a lot of porn)

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

He's got plenty of experience with casual sex and likes to make sure his lovers are satisfied. However, I headcanon him as only discovering what the clitoris was at like... 22 🫣

F= Favorite position

This boy loves reverse cowgirl (great view of your ass + he can grip your waist and thighs). Honorary mention for doggy.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

Goofy is his middle name. He cracks jokes throughout and somehow manages to not make it weird - it's all part of his charm

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Bare minimum. He trims occasionally

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Definitely dirty - not necessarily rough, unless his lover asks for it

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Several times a week - he picks a video and just goes for it. If he is in a relationship, he also loves getting off on his partner's nudes (obtained with consent!)

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Roleplaying (specifically librarian kink).

Body worship (he loves taking his time kissing and licking all over his partner's body).

Voyerism (slight), he gets off on doing it in places where they might get caught.

Also, a very underexplored praise kink, both giving and receiving (i'm not saying he would come in his pants when his lover moans "God, Mikey, you are so good, so good to me... such a good boy"... but he definitely would)

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

He loves doing it in couches, for some reason. Also, he fantasizes about fucking in the office at the restaurant, or really any public / semi public place.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

He likes his lovers feisty and with a sense of humour - if they give him a bit of hell for his stories, he actually finds it kind of hot. As for clothes, tight pants and mini-skirts/dresses do the trick - I picture him as having a thing for y2k style on women, for some reason

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Daddy/mommy kink - if his lover calls him daddy he is running for the hills

Hitting / spitting - he is open to very light chocking or ass-spanking, but not to the more extreme humilliation and domineering stuff

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Both, he loves it. If his lover kneels on the floor and starts unbuckling his belt, he immediatly gets hard. And he definitely knows how to give it to his partner - goes real slow, explores all the little spots with his mouth and fingers, experiments with different speeds and pressure... he could spend hours between their legs

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

When he can, Mikey takes a long time with preliminaries - like, a lot. He loves teasing his partner, but also just loves worshipping their body and being worshiped back. Because of this, the penetration aspect of it usually doesn't last for long, but both end up satisfied.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

He is absolutely down for a quickie, but if the relationship is serious he prefers to take his time.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

Oh yeah. He's got a slight voyeristic kink and the ideia of doing it in semi public places turns him on. Also very open to trying new positions, sex toys and kinks if his partner suggests it

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Around 2 - the 1st one is usually long, so after the 2nd one he is usually done (and so is his partner)

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Not so much for himself, but he would definitely be down to use a vibrator on his partner, or any other sort of stimulant toy

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

He absolutely loves teasing his lovers. Not so much in a "i'm gonna deny you orgasm" kind of way, but more in a "i'm gonna make you come 10 times before i actually put my cock inside you" kind of way. By the time penetration happens his lover is out of their mind. He is himself less patient when his partners try to tease him in a sexual context, but discovers he has a thing for being soft!dommed and praised

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

This man does not shut up in life or in the bedroom. Really into dirty talking, teasing, praising. He isn't super loud, especially when he's close, his voice gains a husky tone before he finishes with a string of grunts and curses

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

I've seen this mentioned elsewhere here, but I am sure him and Richie have shared at least one girl in their youth 👀 also, if he is in a relationship, he secretly loves it when his partner calls him Big Bear when they are alone

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Average length, with a considerable girth

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

High for his age, but definitely lower when he's going through a rough time

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Sex for him works like a release. By the time he finishes, he's exhausted physically and emotionally but he also feels light as a feather - those are some of the only times he sleeps like a baby

#the bear #the bear fx #michael berzatto #mikey berzatto #mikey berzatto x reader #michael berzatto x reader #smut

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axelsagewrites · 9 months

Note

Sage, my dear! I was reading your Daemon fic's and they are just perfect!😘🤌🏽 (especially the ones with poc!fem reader, there are so few stories where the reader is poc/non-white in this fandom… And it's great to find this kind of representation, and yours are so well written!!!) That said, could I get a shameless smut Daemon x poc!fem focused on his rings, as if reader is very attracted to his hands and rings and even fantasizes about him fingering her and he notices and gives her what she wants please?

Daemon Targaryen*Rings

Pairing: Daemon x f!reader

Word count 2540

Warnings: flirting, teasing, hand fetish, rings, fingering, orgasm, nipple play, biting, smut 18+

Translations Zaldrīzesītsos – little dragon Ñuha qēlos – my star

a/n: first of all thank u annon ur so sweet <3 but also it should not be this hard to find poc ppl for my post headers smh i use pintrest but any other suggestions are appreciated

Masterlist Here

It felt like the small council meetings drew on longer and longer as the months moved by. Sure, the wine was nice but that was only because you had it imported from Essos yourself. Most of the issues these men babbled about were of little concern to you anyhow as you were only here to represent your families across the seas while these men whined about taxes and castles. The only pleasure you got from these meetings was catching your Daemon’s eye across the table.

In all your time in Westeros he was the only one you could stand, and you supposed it helped that he was the one you were betrothed too. The arrangement had only been settled last week and you smiled when you noticed the dragon ring wrapped around his ring finger, a gift you had had carved from Valyrian steel when your engagement was struck.

Your mind began to wander further as the men droned on about something they would never decide upon anyhow. While usually you would stare into the stars instead your eyes were focused on Daemons hands. How they lazily lifted the wine to his sweet lips, how his fingers trailed over the curve of the glass in his boredom, or how whenever he grew frustrated, he clenched them into a fist so tight you wondered if his nails cut his palms.

Some may worry about a dragon being violent or unpredictable, but you were far too distracted by how you could use their fire to good use. Daemon had recently begun to deck his fingers out in fine silvers and stones with multiple rings on each hand. When he learned any man of importance in Essos wore a ring on each finger, he slowly began to adopt the practise. Three on one hand, two on the other. Soon he’d have quite the collection, not that you were complaining.

You wondered what it would feel like if he would leave the rings on. How the cool metal would sting your skin when he grabbed your hips like he so loved to do. Or even how it would feel when his fingers slipped inside of you, bringing you to the edge with only one hand. It was almost a challenge to Daemon; learning what to do to make you turn to water in front of him. It was a welcomed challenged to you.

“my lady!” A sharp voice shocked you from your thoughts, your head snapping up with a bewildered expression you tried to cover but you knew you had failed from the way Daemon smirked holding back his laugh, “are there any foreign affairs this week we should be concerned about?” Otto Hightower asked with a pointed look.

“no, my lord,” you said with a tight-lipped smile. The man was slimy since the day you first were forced to make his acquaintance. “Essos manages to run itself quite well, no issues on our side,” you said as you sipped your wine before adding, “though I think the crowns payment for their latest shipments of silks from the east is still pending but im sure you had that covered my lord,”

Otto did his best to cover his sneer as he nodded his head, “of course my lady. I’ll even see to it myself,” he said, his eyes not wavering from your gaze leaving you both in a stalemate.

An awkward clap from the king himself broke ottos gaze. Ha, you thought, bet you there Hightower. “well, that’s everything for today then. Thank you all for your sage advice and council but you are all dismissed for now. Lord Hightower a moment please?” The king said, barely managing to stand on his own as everyone began to filter out the room.

You had always made sure to sit at the chair farthest from the king so your exit would be the quickest, but it did not stop Daemon from catching up to you as you reached the stairs. “my lady,” Daemon said, and you didn’t even have to look up to see the smirk on his face. “are you quite alright? You seemed distracted today?”

“my mind had elsewhere to be my lord but do not fret,” you said, matching his tone as you took his arm to walk down the stairs, “your future wife is not gone with the fairies quite yet,” Daemon chuckled at the way you had began to pick up the Westerosi phrases the longer you were at court but with no more evidence he could not protest the issue any longer.

When dinner rolled around Daemon had invited you to join his supper in his chambers with three of his highest-ranking gold cloaks. Something about ensuring you had friends in high up places who were good with their swords as Daemon had put it. You tried to join in with the conversation, but your mind constantly wandered, your eyes flickering back to your betrothed, his hands specifically that was.

It was a fascination you did not know you had until the council meeting earlier but now you were fascinated with each movement and each ring. “careful my lord your lady wife looks like she’s readying to rob you of your rings,” one of the men’s jokes snapped your attention back to them.

All the men chuckled, and you did your best to force one out, “that’d be rather pointless,” Daemon chuckled, flexing his fingers to show off his rings. Gods that were not helping the arousal growing in your stomach. “most of them were gifts from her, weren’t they ñuha qēlos?” Daemon said, his eyes flickering back to you.

It was like the wind knocked out your lungs for a moment as you stared into those lilac eyes, “yes,” you eventually managed to stutter out, ignoring the curious look from Daemon however luckily the rest of the men had drunk so much wine they hadn’t the faintest clue this was out of the ordinary for you.

“perhaps we should call it a night,” Daemon said after a moment, standing from his chair, “before you drink me out of house and home,” he laughed as he helped the men to their feet. You did your best not to embarrass yourself again as the men dismissed themselves, bowing goodbye to you in a way you would never get used to.

When Daemon finally shut the door, you turned to begin gathering the plates into a stack, ignoring how Daemons eyes were fixed onto you. “you were rather quiet tonight ñuha qēlos,” he said, leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest, “something the matter?”

“no,” you said glancing back at him with a fake smile, “just tired from a long day,”

“tired?” Daemon questioned, not moving from the door. You looked back ready to lie again when you noticed him playing with his rings. Your movements paused, your eyes locking onto the way he twisted the ring around his finger. When you saw Daemon looked up you quickly turned your eyes. “you don’t look tired,” he mused as he pushed himself off the door, lazily sauntering to your side as you tried to keep yourself busy.

“how kind of you my lord,” you rolled your eyes, trying to put your walls up when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. “my lord- “

“we have servants to clean,” Daemon cut you off, pulling you to face him, your body just inches from his. You tried to think of something to say but you couldn’t as you felt his rings press into your wrist, wondering how they’d feel in other places. There was something about the way Daemon gazed down at you, his eyes unmoving that made your words stick in your throat, “if I didn’t know any better,” Daemon said as his free hand moved to hold your chin up, his lips now so close but so far away, “I’d say you were hiding something from me,”

“what would I have to hide my lord?” You said but now your voice could barely go above a whisper.

Daemon stepped in closer, his body now flush against yours, “I’ve never seen you so quiet. Tell me zaldrīzesītsos,” he mused, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear, “what has been on that pretty little mind all day?” He whispered, before gently kissing your ear.

“nothing,” you said but you could not hide the shakiness in your voice.

Daemons hands moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest, “you can tell me ñuha qēlos. After all who am I to judge for what the heart wants,” he said, moving to look you in the eyes once more, “I only wish to help you, my lady. After all it is a husband’s duty to keep his wife pleased,” Daemon said before kissing the hollow of your throat, his head moving to rest on your shoulder.

“there is something,” you said after a few moments making Daemons head perk up. “its not important,” you tried to brush it off, but Daemon began to shush you.

His hands moved to cup your face, the rings metal feeling cool against your skin, “all your wants are important to me,” he said, his lips brushing against yours, “now tell me. What is it you want?”

“you,” you whispered as your hands moved to hold his wrists, “your hands, your fingers. I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you said, moving your head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand.

Daemon kept one hand on your face, the other moving to rest on your hip, “that’s all you had to say,” he said before you felt his lips crash onto yours. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your body desperate from your mind’s thoughts all day. Daemon gripped your hip tightly, his other hand moving to the back of your neck so you couldn’t escape but you had no plans of that.

Daemon began to pull at your skirts, desperate to feel your skin on his. Your hands moved to the ties of your dress, making quick work of the fittings till you felt your clothes loosen. Daemon quickly pushed the dress down your shoulders, not caring as it hit the floor and got crumpled beneath his feet. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing it harshly making you gasp into the kiss as you felt the cold metal digging in.

You began to tug on his shirt and Daemon wasted no time in breaking the kiss to pull of his own clothes. You moved back, sitting on the table as you watched him undress till, he was bare in front of you. Your hands roamed his chest as he finally pulled himself free of his trousers. As Daemon went to reach for his hands to pull his rings off your hand shot out to grab his wrist. Daemon looked at you, his eyebrow raised in confusion, “leave them on,” you said, kissing his shoulder as your hand moved to hold his. “I like the rings,” you said as you traced the precious metals.

Daemon chuckled as he stepped closer, his hands moving to grab your hips, “good to know,” he hummed, his head dipping to capture your lips again.

He squeezed the flesh of your hips, the rings digging in making you moan into the kiss. Deciding to test the waters Daemon placed a soft spank on your ass, loving the way you gasped when the cool metal bit your flesh. After a few moments of enjoying himself and your noises Daemon turned his attention to you.

Your breathing caught as you felt on of his hands trail over the tops of your thigh, inching closer and closer to your wetness where you craved his touch. You whined when you felt him swipe a finger up your folds and heard him chuckle at your noises. “someone’s eager,” he said, his lips moving from yours to your jaw, kissing down your neck as he teased his fingers around your hole.

“please,” you whined as Daemon bit down on your collarbone, “I need you,” you whined as he pushed two fingers in, feeling the way he was already stretching you out. Daemon began to leave dark purple hickeys on your chest, knowing exactly where to leave them to avoid being caught. As Daemon began to curl his fingers you gasped when you felt his rings, loving the way the cool feeling against your wet skin.

“so desperate,” Daemon muttered, kissing down your chest, “so perfect,” he mumbled as he kissed around your nipple making it harden. Daemon chuckled as he saw your body’s reaction before taking in his mouth, sucking on it gently at first.

Your hand moved to his hair, tugging on his silver strands as you felt a familiar knot tighten in your stomach. Daemons spare hand moved to your free breast, squeezing it harshly making his rings press into the soft skin and making you moan again. “such pretty noises,” Daemon said, releasing your nipple for only a moment before he began sucking on it harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud.

You gasped as Daemon softly bit your nipple. You squirmed as Daemon moved his hand, repositioning it so his thumb could rub soft circles into your aching clit. “Daemon,” you whined as you felt yourself get closer with each pump of his fingers.

“look at you,” Daemon said before biting your chest making you gasp and your hips buck, “do you like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin.

“yes,” you whined, desperate for his lips against you again.

“you wanna come undone on my fingers, don’t you?” He said, nipping at your skin, his fingers curling to find an all too familiar spot making your body jerk.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, threatening to spill when he gave the command, “yes,” you moaned, not caring how loud it was as your fingers grasped his hair. “please,” you whined as Daemon kissed your neck. “I can’t wait anymore,”

Daemon moved his lips to hover against your ear, his breath fanning your neck, “then don’t,” Daemon whispered, biting your earlobe again, “I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers,” he said, his curling precise and his lips sucking harshly on your neck. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your legs twitching with each curl of his fingers and rub of your clit before your orgasm crashed through your body, your hands clutching onto Daemon as you rode it out not caring how loud you may be.

As you came down from your high, your legs feeling like mush and your body sweaty, you fell into Daemons chest. Daemon stroked your back, kissing your forehead gently. “so, you like the rings then?” He said, a smirk in his voice.

You looked up, laughing slightly as you regained your strength, “I guess you could say that”

Daemon lifted your chin with a finger, kissing your lips softly, “I’ll have to buy some more then,” he said before pulling you to stand from the table, his arms wrapping around your waist, “but im not done with you yet zaldrīzesītsos,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

#daemon targaryen smut #daemon targeryan #hotd daemon #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon headcannons #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon smut #hotd #hotd smut #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #game of thrones smut #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader

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amywritesthings · 8 months

Text

silver underground. / chapter 16.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin)

Word Count: 5.4K

Summary: flashback six - also known as the day of the heist

Warnings: this chapter heavily explores and discusses themes of peril, thoughts of self harm and self destruction, hopelessness, death, violence, and torture. if you are triggered by these topics, i would suggest skipping this chapter.

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER 16 - FLASHBACK: SIX

note: the next couple of chapters will be heavily influenced by the ova 'no regrets'. they are my interpretations of the material. please watch those episode first, otherwise you will get spoiled on elements revolving around levi's backstory.

The silence of the Underground City spoke volumes.

At this rate, you’ve gone over the plan — and the potential ways it can go horribly wrong — at least a dozen times.

Only so many distress signals can be sent from three people outrunning an entire Military Police unit, so you've employed all of them.

First, there’s the stolen flares.

They’re sparingly used, if ever, when it’s the four of you on a job. Two teams of two has easily been your best formation tactic.

A slight change to a single team of three should not cause much difficulty, especially when it involves veterans like Church, Ackerman, and Magnolia.

(You've already waited a half hour. No flare ever ignites.)

Next, if someone loses their grip on a flare canister, then the pursued team resorts to high-altitude flying.

At the height you’re perched upon — the rooftop of a dilapidated apartment complex overlooking the northern half of the Underground — you’d be able to see at least one person flipping and weaving through even the tallest buildings.

(Another half hour passes. No one ever breaches the skyline.)

The last option, should any ODM gear jam and fail, is more human: eyesight.

With the B-team units ordered to be stationed around the Underground City, your three friends should be covered. If it looks like the Military Police have the upper hand, then you can quickly get the rest of the gang to safety.

You told Levi you wouldn't run after him, that you would keep your promise and stick to the plan, but now that it's been over an hour of radio silence?

You're not so sure.

Because there are no clouds in the Underground, your sightline is clear. Idly your ODM gear sits on either hips, hands occupied by the mechanism's handles that will boost you at a moment’s notice. Below you on the street stand your appointed security, both gang veterans, looking for any stray MPs roaming the area.

Every second waiting for Levi, Isabel, and Furlan to return from their heist route spans to eternity.

Over and over your eyes scan, checking between rooftops — nothing.

Your attention drops to the streets — nothing.

Silence creeps to a ninety-minute drag.

No flares sound.

No bodies fly.

“C’mon, Ackerman,” you mumble under your breath, flexing your left hand to give your body something to do — to avoid pulling the trigger too fast on a rescue operation.

He was explicit about not coming for him.

He was explicit and he was stupid to think you’d never come for him.

He was stupid to think—

“James!”

A panicked, shrill voice, however, sounds from the street.

You whip your attention to the east, taking your eyes off of the skyline for a belated beat.

The rogue voice screeches with urgency a second time.

“James!”

It's young and feminine and terrified.

You shift a boot towards the sound, squeezing the metal handles in your palms with your index fingers at the ready.

“Hey! Where is she? Please, tell me James is here.”

She seems out of breath, like she ran a great distance to get here.

You draw a line with your sight from where her footsteps originated: she came from the south.

Most of your units are pushed towards the north, where Levi stated the job would take place.

One of the seasoned lackeys, a younger man, grunts to her in response. “Who’s askin’?”

“I need to speak with James,” she urges, ignoring his question with a wavering tone. “Please—”

“She’s busy, kid,” the second man replies. “Spit it out if somethin’—”

“They caught Levi!”

Her shriek almost makes your foot slip, causing a roof shingle to dislodge.

Time ceases to exist.

Levi.

Below you hear the young men argue with her and the exchange of pleas that follow, but there is no distinction of sound to you. Their words are muddied as if your head has been dunked underwater.

You can't run to her. Anxiety grabs you by the scruff of your neck to hold you in place.

What's wrong with Levi?

Move.

Did something happen to Levi?

Move.

Without thinking, your hand ignites the ODM switch in your left hand to propel a spear into the stone wall from across the street.

You swiftly swing down from your perch, finally catching a glimpse of the girl in question:

The girl — you remember her first name being Lucy — is as pale as a ghost. Her entire body trembles like a decaying leaf, as though she’s witnessed something horrific that she can’t scrub from her line of sight.

(What the hell did she see?)

Her shoulders relax once she spies your face, but not enough to quell your concern when tears well into her eyes.

“James! Oh my god, you’re here,” Lucy breathes, taking a step forward like you’re willing to console her with a comforting arm. "I tried to get here as fast as I—"

“Repeat what you just said about Ackerman,” you demand without solace. “Now.”

You take one pace back, ignoring the spike in your heart rate as the scenario snowballs in your mind’s eye.

From your peripheral vision, you see several others from the gang join the fray.

The two other lookouts on Lucy’s team run down the tiny guarded street, equally out of breath and panicked.

“We saw it happen in the southeast corner!” one of the running girls exclaim.

You — and the rest of the gang — turn in that direction. You can feel your throat seize.

He said the job was going to be in the northern half of the city.

How the fuck did they end up in the south quadrant?

"We followed them when the job changed course," Lucy explains as if she can read your mind. "Levi ordered Furlan and Isabel to cut south. Too many MPs were waiting in the north."

"But the job was in the north," you numbly reason.

“It might have been a trap, we don't know!" she desperately chirps. "A bunch of MPs went after them on ODM gear so we followed by foot. They were chasing Furlan through the streets. A few of them fell back and we thought maybe they gave up, but then a bunch of new people came out of nowhere and they all had green cloaks with wings—”

“Wings?” you snap, unable to stop your eyes from widening.

You whip your attention back to the young girl. Lucy cowers at your unyielding gaze.

“...yeah,” she answers, meek and uncertain. “They didn’t have the same jackets as the MPs. They had wings on their backs, on the cloaks and the jackets.”

A cloud of fearful whispers spreads like wildfire through the small crowd, infecting the minds of the reconnaissance team under your command.

It isn’t uncommon anymore for the Military Police patrolling the Underground to show up with ODM gear. It used to be a rarity, but now? They know better than to show up empty-handed.

Years of embarrassment have taught the thick-headed MPs a valuable lesson.

But green cloaks — and wings?

You can’t be mistaken by their meaning:

The Scout Regiment.

The military branch where suckers with death wishes band together to expire. They seek to explore the unknown, taking off on brainless expeditions past the city walls and into whatever Hell awaits on the other side.

(Why the fuck would they send the goddamn suicide squad to the Underground?)

You don’t need to live on the surface to know the stories: a third of Scout recruits barely make it past their first mission. And by the end of their first service year, the death toll rises to half.

The only dumbasses left standing with the Wings of Freedom on their back are those who desperately want to die but can never find the right titan to eat them.

And, according to the stories, their missions beyond Wall Maria always come up empty-handed.

A thought passes through your mind like a papercut, stinging your blood cells with the very real possibility that they’ve turned their efforts inward — whether at the demand of the king or the disappointment of the people paying their salaries is unclear.

(Is the Underground City their new playground?)

If so, then Levi — this gang — could very well be their first dedicated target.

“Where?”

The word spills out of your mouth, starting in your mind as a demand but dissolving to a murmur.

Going, running, to wherever the Military Police — or God forbid, the Scout Regiment — have your friends is the only plan of action you can think of.

You’re supposed to make sure the people here are fine.

The need to run — go, go, go — far outweighs your logic.

“I…” The girl falters.

You hate how your voice erupts in the wake of your fear. “Where, Lucy?!”

“I don’t know! I lost track of them!” she yelps, squeezing her amber eyes shut. The hands at her sides are balled into tight, painful fists. “Isabel and Furlan got taken down by some MPs, but Levi kept going on ODM gear. He outran most of the MPs, but there was a man, a tall blonde guy, who—”

“Was he a Scout?” you press on, gritting your teeth. “Did you see the Wings of Freedom?”

“The fucking Scouts are here?” someone yelps behind you. “Oh, shit, dude. Oh, man…”

“What the hell are they doing down here?” another asks next to him. “They don’t fuck with the Underground!”

“Did the Wall missions fail?” an older girl asks under her breath. “Are they coming to wipe all of the Underground City out now?”

“Quiet,” you order, holding up a hand. It takes tensing your arm to keep the limb from shaking. “Lucy: where did you last see Levi?”

“The blonde man chased him out of the sky and into the streets. No one knows. We couldn’t see where they went, but it… I’m so sorry, James.”

Lucy’s voice is so small that you barely hear her.

All you can focus on is his voice ringing in your head, a whisper against the thin line of white noise filling your body.

Protect them.

You’re ready.

You’re so ready to fire up your ODM gear to chase after him, to fight off every single bastard who thinks about laying a finger on your friends.

We won’t get arrested. We’re too fast on ODM gear.

“What do we do, James?”

The MPs won’t stand a chance.

“Can she hear us? Is she freaking out?”

You want me to be the last person standing.

“James!”

Lucy shrieks in your face, breaking your delusion.

You blink back into your body to see a dozen faces staring back at you in various stages of grief.

Fear.

You focus on the way a tear streams down Lucy’s youthful face. It brings you back to when you picked her up off the streets. A kid, just like you, looking for food scraps and shelter — her mother had passed away at a young age, leaving her to fend for herself.

You knew what that was like, so you promised protection. A roof over her head. Food in her belly.

A chance at life.

Just like he once gave to you.

Now you’re the only leader left standing. The other three are either arrested — or worse.

You’re all that stands between dragging her back to the streets or pushing her to the gallows.

(You’re all anyone in this gang has.)

I need you to be safe.

Levi’s voice tickles the outer shell of your ear, whispering past despite the dead wind.

You want to hate him. You really do.

But you promised.

Lucy’s lower lip trembles as she takes a step forward.

This time you stay put, too frozen from the numbness in your body.

“James… please, tell us: what do we do?”

You don’t know.

You wish you did, but you don’t know.

You want to tell them to run, to run as fast as they can and never look back.

You want to tell them that you don’t know how to do this without Isabel or Furlan.

You want to tell them you’d rather die than know a life without Levi.

But you promised.

I’ll keep them safe.

I know you will. Echoing in your mind like an omen. I trust you.

“If they’re arrested, then the MPs will be storming the apartment at any minute.”

You finally answer without an ounce of emotion. You can’t stomach thinking past protocol.

“We don’t have time to get our stuff. Organize yourselves into teams of three. Find the safe houses and don't come out until you hear from me. Take a single runner out to Roxy’s. They owe me a few favors, so they should give you table scraps until this blows over.”

“Are you getting Ackerman?” An older girl holding onto her brother’s small shoulders pipes up from your right.

“And Church?” Another person asks. “Magnolia?”

Refusing to think further than the present crisis, you shake your head.

“They all knew the risks of this heist. Right now, my priority is keeping everyone here safe. So go — and avoid detection the best you can. Leave the rest to me, alright?"

You pause, making eye contact with those staring at you. In front of you is a gradient of nerves.

(Everyone knows the risks of running with a gang in the Underground, no matter the price.)

"I said go, goddamnit!”

At your shouted order, most don’t hesitate to run.

The crowd forms into smaller clusters of refugees as they run towards the emergency routes you’ve mapped a hundred times before.

You don’t have time to panic.

You don’t have time to mourn about what could have been.

(A house gleaming in the sunlight with its windows open. The scent of a fresh meal being cooked. The soft meow overlapping over pleasant conversation about nothing at all.)

After all, you made a promise —

And if three of the Underground’s most notorious gang leaders have been caught, then it’s only a matter of time until the manhunt ends with you.

Week after week, your numbers dwindle.

Day in and day out, houses are raided for anyone associated with Ackerman, Church, and Magnolia.

Bars, brothels, and drug dens are scoured for that missing puzzle piece.

Military Police, emboldened by their victory, are adamant to find anyone involved in their gang.

Most found are arrested.

Some offer information for a chance at immunity.

By the fourth week, the gang dissolves into half of its original number.

However, the rampant pursuit slows after the sixth week, and by the seventh, the Military Police stop searching.

The city becomes boisterous again for an entirely different reason, falling back to its routes of debauchery and strife.

Panic of those still in hiding twists into remorse, remorse into doubt, and soon the doubt creeps into what was once an impenetrable fortress.

And somewhere you failed.

Maybe it was because you kept your promise and never went after Levi, Isabel, and Furlan the day they disappeared.

Maybe it was because no one ever saw them again, creating a shroud of mystery in their disappearances. Most people assumed they were arrested and tortured for information. Others hoped they were able to at least die in a merciful way.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because you gave up.

The longer you fought without your three friends, the longer you ran around the Underground City hiding from authority, the harder it became to remember why you were trying so hard to be the last person standing.

Hiding with nothing to go back to — that was what waited for you at the end of all of this.

To make new headquarters on mere piles of rubble, alone.

People continue to get caught.

People continue to lose their lives.

You were ready—

Ready to give up.

Ready to join the fate of so many others.

Ready to lose.

(All things considered, you had a good run.)

Eight weeks.

It takes eight whole weeks for someone to finally rat you out.

In exchange for immunity, a scared newcomer snitched to the Military Police about the location of your hideout — and you can’t blame them.

The Underground City has always been a dog-eat-dog pit.

That, however, doesn’t mean you don’t still run.

The crisp, metallic zip of the pulley cuts the air every time you push through the alleyways, leaving the Military Police unit in the dust. Wind frays your hair, whipping pieces of it into your face as you run along brick walls and push for the a momentous swing.

It has been weeks of these chases, all evaded in the dust, but something feels different about this pursuit.

The officers feel confident this time.

Ready.

Another unit of MPs pursue on foot, shouting and taunting for your surrender, but they're no match for your swift escape.

The two officers following with ODM gear cannot match the sharpness of your turns.

You don’t know why you keep running.

Why can’t you just stop running?

In your lingering rage you almost want to turn back, take a knife, and attack.

To earn the heaviness of a murder charge on your shoulders.

You want to lash out—

To make someone hurt—

But you just keep running.

In your time of solitude, you've wondered how the end of all things went that day. Did those pigs take turns kicking Furlan with his hands tied behind his back? Did they drag Isabel through the street? Did they cut out Levi's tongue for back talk?

You hope they gave the MPs hell.

The imaginative injustices — the cruelty — fuels your fantasy of revenge.

Through another alleyway and into the streets, you latch onto another building and swing to your left to continue through the streets of—

Wait.

Skirting around a corner, you see something briefly whip around a corner in a cloud of exhaust.

(Was that emerald?)

Your attention turns to the distinct color that entered your line of sight before it disappears.

Your eyes widen with recognition, but it's too late.

You failed again.

One look to your side is all it takes for a solid, heavy object to slam straight into you from the opposite direction, knocking a spear clean out of the neighboring wall.

The ODM gear jolts, causing you to jerk and drop abruptly to the dirt beneath. Your forearms shield your face from the dirt and debris as your body skids across the dirt path.

Before you even realize what's happening, you're scrambling to your feet. Metal clangs from the jostled handles in your palms as you push yourself up.

Your right arm reels back, fist clenched, and flies in an attempt to connect — and it does.

The punch lands directly in someone's face. The bone crunches under you knuckles.

A person yells in pain and grabs their nose, giving you ample opportunity to attack further. Your leg swings, kicking your boot square into their abdomen. You recognize the way their breath squelches: the wind rips right out of their lungs.

You want them to feel pain, just as you’ve felt pain.

You want them to suffer, just as you've suffered.

It doesn't matter who they are.

When the attacker is incapacitated, you make a choice: you turn the opposite direction, taking off into a sprint.

And you run, if only for a few seconds.

Because that very same emerald flash appears in your peripheral vision.

In just one breath, your feet get tangled up and send you flying to the ground you'd just found yourself lying upon.

A pair of hands suddenly tug at the back of your shirt, pushing you further into the muddied street. A forceful forearm presses down harder, pinning you to the ground. A pebble digs into your cheekbone, its jagged edge slicing into your skin.

Trapped.

You grit your teeth, fighting the painful hold with everything you have. You shout and yell like a woman possessed, kicking your boots deeper into the Earth to propel forward, but you can't move.

(Give up — why can’t you just give up?)

Then a deep baritone voice pulls you from your erratic defenses, smooth like honey.

“James.”

Your last name on a stranger's tongue makes your stomach churn.

You continue fighting, digging the toe of your boot further for purchase.

Suddenly pain explodes in your scalp. Something pulls your chin high from the crown on your head, forcing your attention to the sky. What greets you is a tall, built figure above.

From the street lamp, you see it’s a man — early thirties, broad shouldered, with piercing blue eyes and neatly-combed blonde hair.

This mysterious man stares down at you, standing at full height. He doesn't acknowledge the person holding you down, knotting your hair in their balled fist.

One after the other, two more emerald cloaks drop down from the sky, their faces obscured by their hoods.

Blinking away from his face, you see it: his tan, cropped jacket, with white and blue wings outstretched against one another, pointing high with dignity.

The Wings of Freedom.

It's the Survey Corps, in the flesh.

“Four whole Scouts for little old me?” you chide.

The person holding you down rips your torso up higher, causing an immense strain in your spine.

You wince at the sensation of nearly being broken in half but refuse to make noise.

They don't get that satisfaction, not yet.

(You've felt worse.)

The blonde man above you does not react. He continues to stare, however, when he addresses another in his squadron.

“Get her up on her knees, Miche.”

The man behind you — presumably Miche — yanks you from the dirt to settle you on your calves. Without your arms to support you, you’re left floundering at his will.

“What?” you ask through clenched teeth. "Are the Scouts so bored of getting eaten alive that they've come to the Underground on a field trip?”

The man makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. His crystal blue eyes slide slowly from the crown of your head, past your face, then rest at your chest.

“Surface made?” he comments in a languid, baritone voice.

When you jostle against Miche's grip on your back, a feather-esque sensation brushes across your sternum.

Then you realize:

He’s staring at your necklace.

“Stolen?” the blonde man asks again, and venom poisons your tongue at his slander. Somehow you manage to hold a response.

You sneer instead, turning your attention to the side of a building.

A painful beat passes.

You hear the man’s boots near, crunching under packed dirt.

“My name is Commander Erwin Smith, of the Survey Corps," he introduces, not fazed by your lack of cooperation. "I was informed that you’re not only the muscle of this operation, but one of its four founding leaders. Is this true?”

He’s met with another stretch of silence.

“Handling operations for seven weeks without the help of your comrades is impressive.”

Another step.

“Or has it been closer to eight?”

“What do you want, surface scum?” you finally murmur, eyes locked on a particular patch of moss growing at the foundation of the building.

He exhales through his nose, contemplating. You continue to look away.

“Your protection is gone, James," Erwin begins. "Your gang, eradicated. Your people have fled — abandoned you, to save themselves.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him.

Erwin evades your feigned ignorance. “A bounty has been on your head for two months. You’ve done all you can to avoid detection, but from where I stand, I see someone out of options.”

Your nostrils flare, unwilling to betray yourself in the face of the truth.

He isn’t wrong — it’s been the end of the line for weeks now.

You’ve run on borrowed time and a promise you barely believe in anymore.

You’re so tired.

“The Military Police would be glad to round out their gallows with someone responsible for embarrassing them so thoroughly.”

Is that where Levi ended up, in the gallows next to Isabel and Furlan?

(Are they no longer alive, just as everyone suspected?)

When you continue to stare at the adjacent wall, the man behind you tugs at your mangled hair and rips your focus back to the man in front of you.

The toe of the Commander’s boot is in line with your muddied knee.

From this angle, he's practically on top of you.

“However, I believe the finality of a noose is a great waste of potential talent.”

His eyes bore into yours when he slowly, carefully, drops to your height. His ivory-white knee plants gently into the dirt.

You blink up to his face, unable to suppress your confusion.

“Potential talent?” you hiss back, ignoring the searing pain in your scalp. “What is this, a pitch?”

The Commander hums. “I don’t pretend to know how extensive your crimes are, James. What I do know, however, is that you have an out.”

“Yeah?” you ask. “And what’s that, O' Golden One?”

Erwin’s eyes drop to the ground, so you follow suit without moving your head. From the edge of your vision you see it — the ODM gear still hooked around your hips.

“How long did it take you to properly handle ODM gear?” he asks with a genuine intrigue.

“Barely took me a week,” you lie under your breath.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he agrees. “Most of our recruits take months, sometimes even years, to masterfully scale the way you can.”

“Sounds shitty to me.”

“In a way.” A beat passes. Commander Erwin’s jaw sets. “Which is why I’m asking you to join the Scout Regiment under my command.”

You can’t help it — the anger disappears in a bark of a laugh.

It’s a request you never see coming, not a million years or a thousand lifetimes.

You’ve avoided the Military Police for weeks, only for a Scout to offer you… what? A twisted version of salvation in his army?

The words blurt out of your mouth faster than you can help it.

“Join the Scouts?” He nods once to your yelp of a question. “Are you fucking insane?”

“Are you?” Erwin challenges. “Both options lead to your death. The only difference is choosing to make your death matter.”

“A noose or being eaten alive,” you snidely respond. “Gosh, Commander, which sounds less painful?”

“What do you think your friends would have selected, if given a choice?”

The swiftly-timed question is a punch straight to your gut.

Unable to stop your eyes from widening, you hate how your blood chills with panic.

How you can see that glint in the commander’s eyes when he’s finally, finally, caught your weak spot.

Seeing the visceral reaction, he continues. "Before they expired, would they have chosen to die here? Or would they have chosen a new life."

Was he saying…?

Was he saying they were already dead?

Isabel. Furlan.

Le…

Your lower lip trembles as you hold back from thinking about that final name.

You barely recognize your own voice when you speak, low and dangerous.

“How dare you…”

Erwin’s gaze is unwavering. “I’m asking you—”

“Don’t talk about them.”

“—what would they have chosen.”

“I said don’t talk about them!” you shout in his face, losing your cool.

His chin tilts a fraction of an inch, expression stoic.

“Then what about your fellow comrades, the people who laid down their lives for your safety — would they have wanted a chance?”

Despite yourself, you push with your boot to propel towards the blonde. “You disgusting piece of sh— fuck!”

Miche rips your head back impossibly further, exposing your neck to the Commander. Erwin stands tall, pulling out a long sword from its metal sheath. The cool, sharp end of the blade rests against your throat.

If he wanted to, he could end your life right here in the streets.

If he wanted to, he could make this so much easier on you.

But he won’t.

This isn’t about ease.

It’s about power, control — total submission.

A part of you wants to push against the blade to make it easier.

No noose. No titans.

Just here.

But you promised.

Last one standing.

“...what happened to them?” you ask, unable to stop the crack in your voice.

If this is it, then you might as well know.

Commander Erwin keeps his blade held towards you. “I don’t know.”

“But it was you that day, wasn’t it?” You ease down to your knees again. Miche loosens his hold on your body. “You're the one that went after them two months ago. When there was a heist, it wasn’t just MPs chasing them. There were Scouts—”

“I don’t have all day, James.”

He interrupts the beginning of your emotional spiral with cutthroat apathy. His arm lowers when you do not retaliate.

“Your hand-to-hand combat expertise is needed within our regiment. Combine that with your unique ODM handling, and I see a formidable redemption in your future—”

He continues to speak, detailing your servitude should you accept his terms.

You can feel the fight, the fire, ebbing to dying ember.

You’re so tired.

You’re so done with running.

(I’m so sorry, Levi.)

“—and you would presume a title under my command, the rank of a Lieutenant—”

“Wait.”

He pauses when you speak up, catching the oddity of his words. Your lifeless vision connects with his.

“Lieutenants don’t exist in your shitty Scout Corps.”

Erwin nods. “That’s correct. Lieutenants do not."

"Then why..."

"A title will deter animosity. Those who look down at you cannot question your authority."

"Because I'm not from the surface," you reason.

"Yes," he says.

"You're willing to give me an edge on the rest of your people. Why?" You watch him, trying to figure him out before he tells you for himself. “Why not just make me regular front-line titan fodder?”

Erwin seems to consider this, if only for a beat.

Then he speaks with an unshakable certainty:

“Because you know what it means to survive. That, in itself, is vital.”

Your shoulders slump as your body shuts down from the eternal fight.

So this is a choice, but it’s no choice at all.

Your life will not matter in the Scouts. The commander is right: you will die, perhaps not today, but at least choosing the Scouts guarantees the sunrise one single time.

Just like you once promised you'd see with the three of your friends.

And in the moment you mourn — the loss of your friends, the loss of your life, what could have been if that job really had worked out.

(What does it matter when you die, so long as it's soon?)

You grip onto a sense of hopelessness like a vice.

Grief.

Then—

Rage.

As swift as a sudden earthquake, you feel it tremble from your shins to your knees, up your torso and through your heart, filling every red hot blood cell in your body.

It was him.

You’re so sure of it.

Commander Erwin would have been the one responsible for turning Levi, Furlan, and Isabel into the Military Police. He was the one who would have sent your friends to their deaths — or did he kill them himself?

And if he was the one to kill them, then why would he offer you a choice to escape?

(Was this the same choice he gave the others?)

Levi would have never agreed to the Scouts. Furlan, Isabel — they would have followed whatever he chose.

They must have died the very day the heist went wrong eight weeks ago.

It’s why Erwin won’t confirm or deny their fates.

Sickness floods your body, but you hold onto the one thing that will keep their spark with you.

That rage.

They really think you’ll comply.

They really think you won’t burn and take the Scout Regiment down with you.

You’ll kill him.

You’ll kill Commander Erwin Smith, then Miche, then every single Scout that steps into your path until someone’s smart enough to take you down themselves.

“Fine, then.”

You speak, knowing your word is as doomed as the fire in your veins.

“I’ll do it."

You meet Erwin's intense gaze, signing your fate with blood on the dotted line.

"I’ll join the Scouts.”

author's note: I'm glad we collectively giggled and screamed and kicked our feet in the last few chapters. It was a marvelous time. Now I'm out here ruining everything.

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