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bit-odd-innit · 1 year

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They’re about 20 minutes into the movie when Steve feels the familiar dip of weight against his shoulder.

He can’t stop the pulse of fond bemusement that surges through him. After all, Eddie had insisted on picking the movie this week, insisted that it was “an unfathomable travesty” that Steve had never seen it, insisted they had to watch it despite the bruise-colored circles under his eyes, the discreet flex of his hands disguising the tremors he gets when he’s over exhausted. Steve says nothing, lets the movie run, and once Eddie conks out instead of switching to something more his speed, he keeps watching.

The movie’s not Steve’s taste, but it’s not bad. He hasn’t been big into cartoons since he was a kid. The animation is strange yet fascinating, the characters’ movements equal parts natural and off-putting. He drifts in and out of the story, though enough of Dustin and Eddie’s ramblings have sunk in that he’s able to follow along. Whenever a name or location he recognizes pops up he turns to Eddie and says, smugly, “I know what that is.” Eddie replies with a soft exhale that ends in a low hum. His breath skitters across Steve’s throat. Steve shivers.

Eddie’s got this little bank of noises he makes when he’s sleeping. When he crashes after drinking too much, he snores. When he’s asleep but not deep enough to rest, he mumbles—sometimes giggles, too, which is really unsettling if you’re not expecting it. And when he’s dreaming, good or bad, he hums.

They’ve been doing this—whatever this is—for long enough that Steve can tell when Eddie is having a good dream and when he’s having a bad dream. (It’s not weird, he counters to the tiny, horrible Robin voice that lives in his head.) The bad dream hums are low, dredged up from the base of his chest. The good dream hums are high, slipping out from behind his teeth. Steve can’t read music but he took chorus in middle school and he’s hung around Robin while she learned a new piece for band so he’s got an idea of how the note…thingy works. If Eddie’s dream sounds were a song, the good dreams would be at the top of the bar, and the bad dreams would be at the bottom.

Except now, as the movie nears its end, the song changes.

At some point Eddie’s legs had curled up beneath him, his face buried in the join between Steve’s shoulder and neck. Steve can’t hear as much as feel the noises vibrating against his skin. He feels the thrum of bad rising into good, then dipping into something in the middle and holding there. They’re stuck at the center of the stanza (Stanza! That’s what it’s called!) and Steve doesn’t know where to go from here.

“Eddie?”

The arm Eddie is leaning on has gone a little numb, so Steve uses the other to sweep aside the curtain of hair drawn across the side of Eddie’s face, his fingertips grazing his cheekbone. Eddie’s lips part. A new sound, a different sound escapes him. He pushes in close enough for those pink plush lips to press against Steve’s collarbone. Heat curves around the back of Steve’s ears.

“H~eeey.”

He doesn’t want to wake him if this is a good dream. Eddie’s an open book. Eddie’s told him he’s been sleeping like dogshit, that the night terrors have been particularly horrible this week. It’s a joke, a little. The two of them share weird hours. They create bits about how bad things are, how awful they feel about their relationships with people they love, how awful they feel about themselves. It’s fun, until it isn’t. Steve’s seen Eddie’s whole personality swallowed by the wet sand of sorrow. He’s seen him sink into himself and surface with something else, something bright and exuberant and loud and false. If Eddie feels good Steve doesn’t want to ruin it. But if Eddie feels bad—

“Hey.” Steve hooks his palm to rest beneath the ridge of Eddie’s jaw, his thumb pressed into his dimple. “Eddie. Wake up.” Eddie’s eyebrows cinch, a sigh gliding across Steve’s knuckles. His eyelashes flutter, dark and spidery, his lids hanging low over hazy eyes. He blinks, owlish, then tilts up to meet Steve’s gaze with a slow, dreamy smile. “Hi,” he whispers. “Hi,” Steve chuckles in reply.

“W…” Eddie’s mouth works like its full of sunflower seeds; deliberate, purposeful. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Why’dju stop?”

“Stop…what?” He glances to the muted blue static of the screen. “The movie’s over, bud.”

Eddie blinks again, slower. He’s so sweet like this, soft and syrupy, so when he breathes a laugh Steve can’t help but mirror it. “Oh,” Eddie exhales, then leans forward and kisses him.

The hum of Eddie’s dreams are now against Steve’s lips. Those lovely little middle sounds are now inside Steve’s mouth. He swallows them, feels them knife down his throat, wedge between his ribs, twist into the open valves of his heart. He pulls back.

Eddie giggles again. Pouts. “You stopped again.”

“Oh, honey,” The endearment wrenches out of him, involuntary. He smoothes the worry lines out of Eddie’s forehead. “You’re tired, huh?” Eddie makes a non-committal noise. “Okay.” Steve sets his feet and secures his arms behind Eddie’s back. “Okay,” he groans as he lifts him, spins him towards the stairs. “Okay. Time for bed.” Eddie’s still in a half-conscious limbo as Steve navigates him upstairs, mouthing indelicately at any piece of Steve’s skin he can find. It’s untenable, and Steve’s not proud at how he launches Eddie in the direction of his bed, sprints to the en suite to splash cold water on his face before helping him undress. “Take it,” Eddie murmurs when Steve unbuttons his jeans, and Steve needs to sit in the center of the floor for a moment before proceeding. “That’s not what this is.” “Wantchu t’aveit.” Steve shoves him into a pair of flannel pajama pants and stuffs him beneath the sheets. Eddie curves onto himself like a mollusk, and Steve sinks at his hip, brushing his bangs away from his closed eyes. Steve feels himself split down the middle: One part already downstairs; one part already nestled in the contours of Eddie’s body.

“Go back to sleep,” Steve says, and moves to stand. Eddie’s hand closes around his wrist. “Stay?” His eyes flit open, brief, earnest, pleading. “Please, stay.” And, well. They’re going to talk about it tomorrow. They’re going to talk about the movie they didn’t watch, and the moment they half-shared, and the reason its so hard to sleep apart yet so easy to sleep together. Not now. Now Steve shrugs into shorts and a t-shirt, slides in beside Eddie. Now, when Eddie’s limbs tangle around his own, he tugs him closer, lets something deep within himself settle. “Stay?” Eddie asks again. “Go to sleep, honey.”

And he does. And they do.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #my fanfic

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genshin-scenarios · 5 months

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pacts and their marks: demon au

Summary: Where you've accidentally summoned a demon (you’re an exorcist) and now you’re in a pact with them! They’re now your assistant of sorts, some more willing than others…

Characters: Venti, Xiao, Lyney, Wanderer

Content warnings: minor injury and blood (Xiao), mentions of fire and smoke with allusions to death (Lyney), mentions of death and human experimentation (Wanderer)

Generally speaking, Venti likes to float rather than walk if he can help it; he’s gotten the habit of flitting around your form often, hanging off your shoulders and clinging on to you absentmindedly. You might be more annoyed about it if it wasn’t for his voice as he greets you, light and deceptively soothing.

Venti’s music hypnotizes the heart. Whether it be singing or another instrument, he has the ability to convince any being, living or dead, to do as he wishes—so long as his melody isn’t overpowered by their strength of mind.

Honestly, sometimes you wonder if he’s testing the safety-precautions of your pact. You’re invulnerable to his powers thanks to it, but with the way he endears himself towards you, you wonder if his true motive was to steal your affections in another way.

He’s one of the rare demons that blend in with people well. You found him as a spirit living inside an antique lyre; while Venti says he was sleeping there for a lack of anything to do, you have a feeling that there’s another story behind his attachment to the item. He often uses it in battle—its strings glowing with an old magic that matches the shade of his eyes and braids.

You sometimes forget how deadly it is to lose one’s mind in the heat of a fight, when Venti’s lying next to you on the bed as he scrolls on your spare phone. Noticing your attention he peers up, twirling his hair—currently unbraided—between his fingers.

For how much he teases you about praising him, Venti’s never mentioned anything about playing his music to get rid of your nightmares. One time, when you were especially sick, you recall him singing a song in a language you didn’t recognise.

It was hauntingly beautiful, and so was the way he brushed his hand through your hair, too gentle compared to the demons you had to hunt down.

Xiao’s most unique feature had to be his wings; the same dark shade as his hair, dipped in streaks of teal.

During a quiet night, he’d told you they used to be white as snow and gilded with gold. But an angel that kills to protect is destined to fall from the clouds, shrouded by the ghosts of those they have slain.

You know there are others like him, but he says they’ve succumbed to corrosion. He is the only one left, and is one of the only demons you’ve met that hunt down their own species. In an effort to save him from his own corrosion, you’d made a pact with Xiao to link your life forces.

Despite how he’d told you to leave him, his spirit still reached for yours—towards any form of light and warmth it could meet. Xiao still finds the marks of the pact distasteful, however, always glancing at the dark patterns now etched into your skin. You tell him it’s more reassuring than not, now that you can summon him with a call of his name.

If there’s one word to describe his powers, it’s destructive in every form of the word. Xiao leaves the battlefield entirely demolished after a fight. Sometimes he struggles to control his strength, but it’s been getting easier to do so with your presence to balance his.

He prefers to throw himself in as the weapon. Which is why when you’re the one that gets injured this time around, all Xiao can do is panic. He holds you in his arms, frozen as he realizes he cannot help.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a serious wound. But after that, Xiao has been a lot more protective of you; almost hyper-aware.

“W—What are you doing, Xiao?” You flinch as he bites into your palm, drawing a small line of blood.

Xiao hums. “Did you know that even using your blood, I can only heal you a limited amount with our pact?” Another bite, this time with his fangs, frustrated. “Keep that in mind the next time you plan on getting hurt.” You’re lucky the hospital could treat you this time around.

All Lyney knows is that he was reborn in a fire. At the back of his mind, he’s searching for his siblings—though he’s not sure where they are.

Like smoke filling a room, Lyney’s able to create illusions that trick all the senses. At your first meeting, he’d tried this on you; only for one of your protective amulets to diffuse his powers, revealing a larger demon he’d been working with that’d been ready to devour you.

Suffice to say, Lyney was quick to switch sides once he noticed that you were winning. That, and the demon he was working with turned out to have lied about having a lead for him. After noticing your potential as a partner, he’d been quick to scout for your help.

He often uses his illusions to fool enemies into fighting one-another, redirecting their attention away—but after the pact, Lyney seems to lose his larger-than-life traits and falls into a casual routine with you. It makes you wonder if he’d been human before this, though sometimes he’s more cat-like than not.

If nothing else, he does like to put on a show when you’re faced with a battle. He makes your job easy, considering that your bond allows you to see past his illusions and maneuver around enemies, finding the perfect blind spots. Despite the oddity of your partnership, you start to enjoy the pattern of working with Lyney, from your smooth conversations to his smarts.

One thing that does throw him off however, is when a demon you were trying to exorcize attempts to form a pact with you. Not that you can’t have multiple pacts at once, but it’s the first time you’ve seen Lyney openly aggressive towards an enemy, striking it with a sharp bolt of flame that diffuses it long enough for you to dispose of it.

With the threat gone, Lyney was quick to check on you, looking for any traces the other demon might’ve left behind. He calms down once he finds nothing, eyes widening when he realizes your faces are only inches apart.

“I…” He looks like he’s about to apologize, but decides against it. “Please don’t make a pact with anyone else. I don’t want to feel like that ever again.”

When you first met, Wanderer had tried to turn you into a puppet.

It was his power, after all—to attach strings onto any form and take control of them. These strings could be cut off, but it would only take so long for him to attach them again.

Most people don’t survive their encounters with him, but you’d managed to trap him into a pact right before things went dire. Now you could restrain his actions to a certain extent, though Wanderer would always push against your control, keeping you on your guard.

Many coworkers have told you to simply be rid of him—but just as you’d tricked Wanderer into a pact with you, he’s since linked your heart with his soul. That is to say, if he was exorcized, you’d be going down with him.

It’s a small relief to learn that Wanderer could also puppeteer other demons, thus you put him to work on the field by your side, turning into an unwilling duo. He has a habit of not doing anything unless you make it a ‘command’, leaning closer with a challenge in his eyes even as an enemy charged at the both of you.

Then, with a snap of his fingers, they’d stop mid-air. As large as the pact's patterns are on your skin, you had to admit that Wanderer’s power was a deadly one.

You’ve always wondered why he had no reactions to injuries; no matter how serious, you’ve never seen Wanderer express pain. Much, much later into your partnership, you learn that he’s become numb to physical sensations a long time ago. And that him turning into a demon was a gift of reprieve more than not, as he’d destroyed and escaped from an experimental facility shortly after.

During a fight where you'd been affected by a tranquilising venom, Wanderer had been the one to save you; your eyes met briefly as you felt his strings take a hold of your form.

“Don't make me look bad now.” He'd said. “Just relax.”

With not much of a choice, you allowed him to guide your movements. Somehow, it does feel different compared to your first encounter with his powers. With a push and pull between the strings, you could almost say it felt like a dance.

Were Wanderer's movements always this graceful?

Preorders for my wanderer fanbook and genshin letters are open! If you liked this, consider checking out the purple link on my pinned post!

#genshin venti x reader #xiao x reader #lyney x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin reader insert #genshin writing #genshin x you #genshin headcanons #traveler wishes

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seungmoonandstars · 3 months

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𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: ~2k

rating: fluff -`♡´- (seungmin finally tells you he loves you...but then he has some other problems)

contains: tipsiness, drinking, lots of kissing and touching. part of the blind date universe, but also works as a stand alone piece (⸝⸝- ᴗ -⸝⸝ ;)

☾ masterlist

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Seungmin, your Seungmin—your favorite person in the entire world. Your comfort and your good luck charm. The one that you’ve come to know so well...he's still sometimes a mystery.

You’ve learned so much about him in the months that have passed, even though your nights together haven’t totaled up to much more than…maybe six weeks—you know his favorite dishes, and you always work on making them just how he likes it (he still blushes when he comes home and sees something simmering in the kitchen). If his timing is right, he’ll help you cook, and he’s pretty good at it.

His favorite movies, the music he likes to listen to when he's trying to unwind and turn his brain off for a while. Sometimes you hear songs and take note of them, because you think he might like them. You make him playlists—he’s makes them for you, too.

He’s neat, and he keeps his things as organized as possible, which you can’t imagine is easy, seeing as he divides his time between two places now. You hope that habit rubs off on you.

A few of his bad (and not so bad) habits have shown themselves, too. His showers last twice as long as yours, so you always have to beat him to it in the morning. And he talks (mumbles) in his sleep...usually when he’s very tired and keeps himself up too late. If he’s not talking, he’s wrapped around you on your side of the bed. Seungmin is a fierce cuddler in his sleep.

He’s reserved, and sometimes he’s still hesitant to share things with you, and that's okay. It’s normal, because your normal is to over share, and he loves to listen. He’s so good at listening. You don’t think he knows how much of a comfort he really is to you.

The first time…no, technically the second time you told him you loved him (the first time was during sex because you couldn’t help yourself), he was just getting ready to leave. His ride was waiting, and you were holding him up because you needed to work up the courage to say it again. His ears turned red when the words spilled out of your mouth, he stared blankly at you for a moment, then held you against him and kissed your forehead. You weren’t expecting him to say it in return—the kiss, his hand rubbing your back, the barely discernible giggle—all of that said it for you.

Seungmin is a little shy. But even more, he knows how to save things for just the right moment.

｡⋆｡

Tonight, you have him. But not at home. He insisted on bringing you out...out in public, with his friends. Breaking two rules at once. You both agreed on staying away from anywhere anyone could see you together, and you also planned on waiting as long as possible before revealing how serious the relationship was to anymore friends.

You’re shoulder to shoulder with him on one side of the table, Jeongin and Felix are on the other side (Seungmin claims this whole thing was Jeongin’s ideal). The food set out in front of you reminds you of your first date, but there is so much more. He has an appetite tonight; he doesn’t seem at all nervous, like you are. But that could also be the second drink he’s throwing back. You’re only halfway through your first.

“How are you feeling?” He leans in to say it directly in your ear. The restaurant is busy, and it’s a little loud. “You look distracted.”

“It’s weird being out like this. But…”

“But nobody is paying attention to us.”

You nod, look at him, look at his lips. Kissing him would be nice, but you won’t do that here. That can wait until later. When you look across the table to your dinner dates, they’re both staring and smiling at you. They’ve been talkative and warm and sweet, just like Seungmin said they’d be—asking questions, wondering how it was being in the situation you’re in.

Jeongin made a point to tell you how he figured out your existence on his wits alone, and that he’s glad Seungmin stuck with it and kept you around. They, of course, don’t know how difficult the whole thing was, but that’s between you and Seungmin.

Somehow, he notices your exhaustion tonight…your social battery starting to run low. There’s no reason why he should even know what that looks like on you, but he does. He grabs your hand under the table, sets it on his thigh, and holds it tight.

But you don’t want to cut anything short, and it hasn’t been a very long night. This feels important to Seungmin, though. You order another drink. He gets one, too, and soon the need to kiss him becomes a little too overwhelming, so…after a little bit longer, a few more drinks, questions, musings, Felix and Jeongin wondering when you’ll meet everyone…it’s time to go home.

｡⋆｡

Seungmin is quiet the entire ride back. Tired, a little touchy, but he doesn’t say a word. You lead him inside, into the elevator, down the hall—hand in hand. He watches carefully as you unlock and open the door, and it’s then, in the too bright hallway light, you see his heavy, glazed over eyes staring at you.

“Hey,” you grab him by the waist and walk him inside, “how many drinks did you end up having, pup?”

He laughs, but doesn’t answer.

“Can you get your shoes off?”

He mhmmm’s as he falls back onto the chair, “I can…” leans forward, and pulls at the laces on his Nikes, “I can.”

His gaze follows you as you head to the kitchen and fill up the electric kettle, and when he does manage to get both of his shoes off, he shuffles in and leans against the counter, “did you have a good night?” He wets his lips and runs his thumb over your cheek.

“Yeah, I did. They’re both very sweet, I can you see why you’re so close.”

“I think they liked you, too.” Seungmin leans forward and kisses the same spot on your cheek, “I knew they would.”

You turn your head and catch his lips. His laugh breaks up the kiss, and you grab him by the waist again, “go sit down, I’ll bring you some tea.”

He pokes out his tongue and pouts before stumbling away from you, “too warm for tea. It’s warm in here…” his voice trails off as he heads for the living room.

It is warm. It’s still warm outside, too, so opening the windows won’t help much. “I’ll put it on ice.” When you look to him again, he’s already sprawled out on the couch, arms above his head, t-shirt pulling up just enough to reveal his stomach. His eyes are open though, and he’s staring straight up at the ceiling. A yawn escapes him.

You decide against the tea and grab a bottle of water instead. “Up,” he groans as you shake his knee, but he listens and makes room for you, “drink this, it’ll make me feel better.”

“You? I will drink it, but I feel pretty good.”

“Yeah, I should’ve cut you off.”

“I’m good,” he paws at you and pulls you closer. “I feel good. You feel good.”

“You feel good right now, yeah.”

“Mhmm,” Seungmin gently grabs your face and kisses you, once, twice… “very good.” His eyes are still shining with tipsiness, but he’s all there. Drinking isn’t something either of you do often, but Seungmin does like his beer and soju (tonight it was soju) with dinner. He also knows his limit. Tonight, he got there, and maybe a little extra. “Will you be here with me all day tomorrow?”

“I’ll be home before noon, so sleep in for me.”

Another groan. He pulls you closer, “peach…”

“Hmm?”

“Do you love me?” He says it into your neck and kisses slowly upward.

You leave him hanging for a moment. He knows you do, and he also knows you’re going to indulge him and tell him over and over again, if that’s what he wants. “Do I…hmm.” The feel and sound of him biting at the skin below your ear gives you goosebumps…”yeah.” As soon as you close your eyes, everything falls away. It’s just the two of you—nothing else. Seungmin’s touch makes you feel like the only thing that matters.

“Tell me,” he holds tighter and softens his kiss.

I love you

His hands run up your back, and he scratches gently as they come back down. “You do…” he coos, and pulls you onto his lap, so you send a soft string of I love you’s into his ear.

“I love you, too.” He finally says it, a little muffled, lips pressed gently into your skin like he’s savoring the taste.

It feels so good hearing it in his sweet, tired voice. Until now you’ve only heard it in your head. Seungmin’s actions speak very loudly, though, so you knew.

“Do you?” you tease. “...you love me?”

A sweet, tired laugh follows. His hands pull at your shirt, but it stays in place as he makes his way to your lips. You didn’t plan on starting anything—he’s too sleepy and too drunk, but you always want him, and you need to kiss him. You need to get your hands under his shirt and touch his warm skin. So you might start something.

Seungmin giggles again as your fingertips graze him…they run slowly up his side and over his ribs. The laugh turns to a moan, soft, and suddenly very needy, when your thumb circles his stiff nipple. If you had any intention of just getting him safely into bed, it’s now gone. The only thing on your mind is the look in his eyes. And all that matters is how good you can make him feel tonight.

He pouts, moves his hips. “Mhm…I do,” it comes out in another moan, needy and whiny again. Full of want. Maybe your touch is enough to sober him up. “I love you,” he says it again, eyes carefully watching his hand move up your thigh. “I love the way you love me.”

That last part…he says it so quietly you almost don’t catch it. You want to hear it again, though, so you lift his chin and look at him. “What did you say?”

A blush forms over his cheeks and on his ears. He licks his lips and bites down on it, eyes grow bigger, “uhm…I said—“ he stops short and smiles. Shyness is taking over again.

Instead of forcing it back out of him, you decide to show him more of how you love him. You lean forward and kiss him softly. Show him just how much. Both hands slide up his stomach and chest until he’s relieved of his shirt. Your lips close around him, tongue slides slowly over his nipple until he groans. How much you need and love to take care of him. You squeeze his hip, his thigh, sneak your hand between his legs and feel every soft inch of him through the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Sorry,” he squeaks out between kisses, “sorry…too much—“

You shut him up with your mouth and shake your head, “it’s okay, pup, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

And how much you love the way he loves you.

His eyes are open and unsure as you kiss him. Seungmin has never had a problem getting hard before, and he’s feeling self-conscious, nervous, maybe a little embarrassed. When you open yours and stare back at him, he lets go… “I want you,” he starts, and you kiss him again.

“You have me, and we have all week. I’m just happy I have you here right now, so let me have you.”

Seungmin relaxes—as much as he can manage—and lets you kiss with no protest.

You work slowly, leaving loud, wet kisses all over him; the soft spot underneath his chin, his throat. It tickles, and he stifles his laugh, so you move even slower across his jaw until you can bite his earlobe.

“…feels good,” he sighs.

“Why don’t we get into bed…” you pull back, push the hair away from his forehead, and kiss there.

“Mhmm…”

“I’ll light some candles, turn off all the lights…and give you a nice massage, wherever you need it.”

Seungmin nods, “everywhere.”

“Okay…everywhere.”

#kim seungmin #skz seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin fanfic #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #☾ blind date

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theautisticwriter · 2 months

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Love Letters: Yandere! Helluva Boss characters X G/N Reader

Characters- Blitzø, Moxxie, Millie, Loona, Stolas, Asmodeus, Fizzarolli

Show- Helluva Boss

Genre- romantic, yandere

Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!

Warnings- swearing, pet names, yandere themes, mentions of planned kidnapping, stalking, delusional characters, unwanted attention

Word count- 1.5K

Extra notes- I have a Hazbin Hotel version of this uploaded as well!

key: f/l = first letter of your name, y/n = your name, n/n = your nickname

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By this point you know who it is y/n, I’m the only person COOL enough to send u romantic as fuck letters like the old people do

Sorry for eating the food u made last night, when i was raiding ur fridge it looked so fucking good (and it was, who knew u could cook :P). i left u a pony as a replacement, u can’t eat it but it’ll make u think of me ;) and that pony cost me a FUCK ton of money, collectors addition and shit. i know, bad fucking ass right??

the stupid shitty loud alarm u installed didn’t work when i came in, ud be much safer with me and loony. that’s the plan anyways babe, u have NO idea the fucking creeps that live down here, they’re all fucking animals and ur…not, a fucking asshole i guess.

i drew you smth (it’s the thing stuck on the back of the envelope with the glitter glu)

^glue

it’s me and u holding hands, like other couples do. we’re better than those corny fuckers tho, hence the crowns on our heads.

ignoring my texts, BLOCKING ME (still upset about this BY THE WAY) and then ignoring my very nice letters is kinda a dick move f/l, but it’s whatevs. everything is almost ready for ur move in. i cleaned up n everything :D

from the only bitch worth ur time,

blitzø

<3 (ignore that, moxxie threw a gun at me and my hand slipped, might fire him)

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Hiya sweet cheeks!!!

It’s Mills here, just checking in! Via letter! Ain’t that just the fanciest little thing? Mox said it’s the best way to show thought and care to someone, so here’s all my thoughts and care, just for you!

How’ve you been? Good I hope, I’ve been just peachy thanks for asking! My Ma and Pa are super excited to meet ya one day, they’ve even started planning the wedding! Now I told them to slow their horses down, and not the overwhelm ya, we’ll get to that don’t you worry darlin.

Im just so excited to write this letter for you! Ain’t it so romantic?? I’m practically squealing in delight at the thought of you opening this and swoonin’, that’s what you’re doing, right?

Now i’m writing this on my break, and my boss really needs me back in the game! I got employ of the month! Most amount of kills, with the best and bloodiest results baby!

Until next time sweetheart,

Your Mills! ♡

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Hi y/n,

It’s Moxxie here, I was a little nervous to send this letter to you, but I always try to follow my heart, and my heart was telling me to communicate with you in the most romantic way I know how due to our current circumstances of being so far away. It’s hard, for the both of us i’m sure, but we’ll be okay y/n.

As much as I don’t get along with my father, he has been helpful with my preparations for your arrival. It’s a big deal, moving in together. I’m sure your anxious, I am too, but in the best way possible. Love is pure, and can make somebody feel whole, it’s a wonderful feeling. I never want that to be taken away from me, and you are the source of all my love. That’s why we need to be together, being only half a demon isn’t good for the soul.

We can do lots of fun things together as well, like go to the opera, or to musicals, or I can show you my shooting skills. My boss says that I have a pretty good shot, which is the biggest compliment he’s ever given me. And we can do things you like too, marriage is equal of course. Obviously, this will all happen later done the line, you’ll need time to adjust, and I understand that. I understand you.

I’m running out of room on my page, but I will write to you again tomorrow. Please respond? Just once, y/n? It’d be nice, to hold something from you since I can’t hold you yet.

All my love,

Your Moxxie <3

———————————————————

Uh, hi?

Wait, you don’t put ‘uh’ in letters do you? Or put wait whilst you think, fuck shit fuck

Sorry, I’m new to this. Normally I just send a text to people but, your phone is off at the moment I think? Or you lost it? Or you blocked me?

Either way, I’ll send you these stupid letter things until it’s back on. So, uh, what are you up to? Blitz has been up my ass about meeting you, heads up, when I come get you and bring you to our room he’s gonna go all psycho dad mode and integrate you, but he’ll back off after a while. He’s a dick sure, but he does want me to be happy. And your, likeable or whatever, so i’m sure you’ll get along.

Once you get comfortable at home with me, Blitz said you could work with me at I.M.P. You’ll be like the co-secretary or something. You won’t be put in danger, I won’t let that happen, you’ll just get to sit with me. We can watch things together, if you wanted.

I guess i’ll see you soon, how do you end these?

See you,

Love from,

Regards?

Bye y/n,

Loona.

———————————————————

My dearest y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I yearn for your presence here, besides me. It’s quite lonely without you, I will admit my dear. It would be oh so wonderful if you could write back. I understand you may be preoccupied with your current activities, but I can’t help myself from desiring a response. I know, it’s selfish of me to expect you to reply to my letters when you’ll be here with me shortly, but I can’t keep my thoughts at bay at the moment.

Your face is a constant in my mind, night and day, asleep and awake, your voice in my mind calms me when I need it most, your smile brightens the bleariest of moments and so on. You can imagine the difficulties I’m facing with no response from you, but that’s alright. If you can’t write back to me dear, I won’t pressure you. Your time is precious, and we will have all the time in hell quite soon. Isn’t that exciting?

I can give you the life you deserve n/n, any luxuries or mundanities you wish for will be handed to you on a silver platter. Or a golden one, if that’s more to your liking? We can properly discuss the specifics once we are together. How thrilling, the though of you and I together at last.

We truly are written in the stars!

Yours until the end of the sky and then some,

Stolas.

———————————————————

Hey there baby,

It’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry if you feel neglected babe, it’s so hard keeping in contact with you when you’re so far away hun. Wouldn’t it be so much better if you were here with me? Sure I’ve got a lot of meetings, being a sin and all, but I’d be at your beck and call n/n, you could even be my new excuse to leave those awful “business” discussions. They barely talk business with me, it’s just complete bullshit babe.

I know the lust ring can be intimidating, we have quite the reputation, but I assure you, love is not a foreign concept to me. Romance is one of my most favourite things! Though that’s a secret, let’s keep that between us, yeah? That side of me is reserved for you n/n.

It’s so boring over here without you, I feel like i’m just lounging around and last time I checked, I was the lust sin, not the sloth sin. We’d have so much fun together babe! Can’t you picture it? Even if you can’t yet, I can wait. Having you near me will be enough, you are enough just as you are.

Sincerely yours,

Asmodeus (Ozzie) xoxo

———————————————————

Heya cutie!

Letters are a lot harder to write than I thought they’d be y’know? I’ve rewritten this like 16 times already, sheesh. It just feels so awkward, I can’t see your reaction to my words which means I can’t fix any mistakes I’ve made :(. I’m sure I haven’t made any though! Right? This letters going really well so far and is definitely wooing you, right, y/n?

Hah, I’m asking questions as if you can reply right away. Silly old me, I don’t know what i’m worrying about! We’re meant to be together. I know it’s super sappy, but we’re like soulmates. Soulmates are bound to be together! That’s why I’m bringing you home soon, I can’t wait! I’ve got sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many awesome tricks to show you!

And, the best news, I quit my job!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ ༘⋆-ˋˏ This means, we will have a LOT more time with each other, and you don’t have to worry about Mammon being possessive over me, because fuck him! I’m my own clown! Or, well, your clown.

I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be great for us, I pinky promise :P

Love from,

Fizzarolli !!!! ༘⋆!!,-!ˋˏ!!!

———————————————————

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tragedybunny · 8 months

Note

hehehe~ perhaps a cute fic with reader and Astarion and he talks about all the parties he used to go to before he was turned- and he dances with you 😳

Anon - So this took on a life of it's own, it reminded me of some of my Tav's backstory, so I worked in some elements of it. I hope it's still good. 🥺

Rhythm Like a Heartbeat - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion and Reader share a dance that reveals more than they planned.

Wyll was teaching Karlach to dance, of all things you'd seen on this journey, this was somehow amongst the most surprising. The Blade and the "Devil" he should've slayed, moving together along with the melody from an enchanted music box someone had picked up along the way. The two of them seemed to be growing closer, and you couldn't be happier for them. You took a long drink from a pilfered wine bottle while you watched, you were all blowing off a little steam, which was well needed. Digging around for Kethric's weakness was a daunting task and the clock inside of all of you was still ticking. "Not rethinking your choices I hope."

You'd been so lost in thought you hadn't heard Astarion come up behind you. Or he'd intentionally snuck up on you. When he wanted to go unheard or unseen, you usually didn't have a chance of not getting ambushed. Mostly he seemed to enjoy the little jump you made when surprised. Tonight you didn't disappoint, exuding a high-pitched noise along with jumping. "Astarion," you scold, "honestly! And no, of course not, just impressed by Wyll's form."

"Really," he scoffed, not hiding his jealous streak very well at all, "he looks like a gangly teenage boy at his first gala. Clearly, you haven't had much experience in the ballroom." Part of you wanted to laugh a little, the insult was obviously ridiculous, but you knew his jealousy came from fear that he barely held on to you and could still lose you. Maybe sometime you should use the tadpole to show him just how impossible that would be. If only the thought of it didn’t fill you with revulsion.

“I didn’t know you were such an expert, love,” you know he feels comfortable with the playful banter, and you hope it pulls him away from that place of insecurity.

A sharp laugh answers you, “I’ll have you know I had plenty of experience, both in life and unlife.” You shoot him a look, he rarely speaks of life before Cazador, you’re not even sure how much he remembers of it. “What? I had an important job, I knew important people. Or are you just trying to get me to teach you?” An outstretched arm beckons you to join him. For a second you freeze, knowing you’re risking exposing everything you’ve held back. But hells, if you say no, he’ll take it the wrong way entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be a quick study.”

Taking his arm, you let him lead you a distance from the tent, glad Wyll and Karlach are still the center of attention, and gracefully dip your knee as he bows. Gently, one hand takes yours, the other held properly tucked behind his back. The rhythm is an easy one, but you let him take the lead. Soft steps, elaborate turns around one another, your eyes locked with his. Gods, his eyes are breathtaking when he’s looking at you, when his guard is down, soft and shining with light. Tonight, they seem full of mirth, but you’ve seen them overflowing with his sorrow and tears as well. They’ve distracted you and you forget, he’s supposed to be teaching you, your form is too good.

Step away, one spin, back to back, face each other, palms touching. Skin like ice presses against yours, heating up with the exertion and the emotions humming through your every nerve. One night he asked if it bothered you, lying next to the chill of the grave. You only hugged him tighter and told him not to be ridiculous because you couldn’t find the right words at the time to explain that it was part of who he was and you loved all of him, even the pieces that might not seem loveable. Thinking of it that way now though, you should tell him.

Another turn, facing away from one another again, a chance to catch your breath. It’s madness how he still affects you, even after you’d confessed to one another, you’re still swooning nervously. He’s right when he calls you “silly girl” teasingly. The finale, one more elaborate twirl, you’re no longer even thinking of the dance, muscle memory taking over. His hand catches yours and you step close to him, closer than the propriety of a noble’s dance floor would’ve ever allowed. Cheekily, he leans forward, stealing a quick kiss. “It would seem you have more talents than you’ve let on.”

“I…”, you really don’t want to lie to him. The silence stretches far too long. “It would seem so.”

“Hmm,” you feel him studying you, and you realize his eyes are guarded again, his posture rigid. “So tell me one thing,” you nod, terrified you’re about to shatter that fragile bond you’ve built. Lies by omission are still lies. “Which noble house are you a runaway from?” His voice is cold and hard, the Astarion you met on the beach that fateful day. How fast he can change wounds you, just like that, he’s ready to be done with you. But it’s your fault, you know how years of horror have left him with walls he’s too quick to bring up. “Or do you want to keep lying to me?”

You shake your head. “I wish I could say.”

“And here I thought we really had something, but clearly,” he gestures wildly, unable to contain his rising temper.

Stinging tears begin to prick your eyes. “No, no, I wish I could say,” you emphasize, praying he’ll understand.

Suddenly, he stills, hand coming to your cheek, eyes wide. “Is this a warlock thing?” A thumb brushes away the tear that escaped and you hear agonized regret in his voice. “Oh darling, I’m sorry, don’t cry.” Arms pull you into his chest. “Please, I didn’t realize, it’s fine.”

“I wanted to tell you,” you sniffle into his shirt.

“Hush love, you can tell me what you’re able to, when you’re ready. Although I must insist you consider us even for any prior deception of mine. Even ones you haven’t realized yet.” He laughs that awkward, nervous laugh that happens when he’s upset, but he’s trying so you let yourself giggle a bit. “There’s my girl. Now how about we dance again and no holding back? I need to know if I can actually keep up with you.”

The music box is still playing but you’re no longer aware of anyone else in the camp. There’s only the two of you, softly and slowly moving together. Gone are the thoughts of the elaborate courtly show, you move by instinct, bodies responding to one another as you press close together. Then you still, let yourself be wrapped in his arms, your lips brushing the hollow of his throat. “I can at least tell you that you’re the best dance partner I’ve ever had.”

“Never doubted it my sweet,” you feel him kiss the crown of your head before resting his cheek against it.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #my fanfic

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bunnliix · 2 months

Text

𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

Based on a dialogue prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting, and I thought Yungi as a duo fit it.

This was so fun to write, and if it's not already a little obvious, I enjoy writing college AUs haha. They're fun to write, as I'm in college myself.

prompt: “You’re both so smart and yet so stupid.” word count: 2.4k warnings: Mingi and reader being stupid, Yunho being the kinda smart one, worries about unreciprocated crushes, a smattering of angst

The three of them had been friends since their first day of highschool. Well, Mingi and Yunho had been friends since childhood, but they met and basically adopted y/n into their little circle almost instantaneously after they had met in their homeroom. It was an interesting friendship in the eyes of most others, Yunho being the outgoing member of the group, while Mingi and y/n were the introverts, but it worked for them, and they had all decided on going to the same university after high school. That’s how they got to this point, being second years in university, Yunho pursuing an English degree, Mingi with his music degree, and y/n with her history degree.

With how different their degrees are, they rarely had classes together now that they’re all second years, but they took care to see that their schedules all matched up at least once a week, which usually meant lunch breaks together. They all looked forward to seeing each other, though y/n sometimes dreaded them.

Since their last year of high school, y/n had developed massive crushes on both boys. She couldn’t help it, they were attractive, and honestly they ticked every box on her checklist of what she wanted in a boyfriend. She’s never said anything to either boy, fearful of what would happen to their friendship, and she could never give up a friendship for a relationship. She’d prefer shoving her feelings about them into a box forever, than risk it all, risk the trio’s friendship for her crushes. She didn’t think she’d be able to choose one of them anyways, her love was for both of them, not just one.

Even if she was able to choose, she didn’t want to think how that would impact her friendship with them, or their friendship with each other. So she kept her mouth shut, and enjoyed their friendship, ignoring her own yearnings for more.

She was currently sitting down in the quieter part of the university’s food court, waiting for her two friends to arrive. Her class had gotten out early, and so she decided to wait at the food court, so that they had a good table. She didn’t have to wait long for her two boys to show up, as she saw them walking towards her, smiles on their faces.

“Hey! Did you wait long for us?” Mingi asked as they both sat down.

“I didn’t, I got here maybe five minutes ago?” She said, voice going higher at the end as she was unsure of how much time had passed.

“Oh that’s good. Both of our classes ran a bit late, so we were worried that you’d be waiting a long time.” Yunho said, relieved that she hadn’t waited long.

“I’d wait forever for you both, so you don’t have to worry about that.” She told them, before realizing how that could be taken, and a light blush appeared on her face.

Yunho immediately realized the non-platonic meaning of her words pretty quickly. His friend hadn’t been that subtle with her feelings, he knew that she liked both Mingi and himself, but knew that she’d never say a word about how she felt. He knew both himself and his friend felt the same way, but Mingi, oh sweet Mingi was so oblivious. The man may be a genius at producing and creating music, but he was so dumb when it came to matters of love.

Yunho himself, has loved Mingi for almost as long as they’ve known each other, and y/n, since their second year of highschool. He had the same dilemma y/n was facing after he realized his crush on her, not sure of how to reconcile with wanting both of them, wanting to be with both of them. This led him into finding out what polyamory was, and after a lot of learning, he’s okay with his feelings, though like y/n, a bit too scared to change their dynamic.

Mingi was just dumb when it came to love, at least when it came to recognizing that others felt the same way. He knew very well his own feelings, that he’s loved both of his best friends for years now. He was the first to fall for both of them, and he’s been quiet on the topic of his crush on Yunho, but he’s spoken to his friend about his crush on the third part of their trio, and his fears on how if he said anything, that maybe she’d say no, or it would just destroy their entire friendship, and he couldn’t bear doing that, so he stayed quiet on the matter.

So the three of them all stayed silent on their feelings, even if they knew the feelings of the others.

Regardless of that, they spent their time between classes catching each other up on their class antics or drama, as well as bemoaning their homework and assignments, as always. Y/n was saddled with the heaviest workload of the three, from a writing aspect. Yunho wasn’t too far behind, however, and Mingi got off the lightest, but instead he had a lot of work that relegated him to the studio instead.

“Well, back to classes it is.” Mingi groaned.

“You’re going to come over after your classes are done, y/nnie?” Yunho looked down at her, and she nodded to confirm.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head over to your guys’ place right after my class lets out.” She told them.

“What way are you both heading?” She asked, since they usually split up from the table, but they were so engrossed in conversation that they all continued walking out of the hall.

“We’re both heading this way, I think?” Yunho answered for both of them, Mingi nodding along in agreement.

“Oh! I am too! So we can keep talking today.” Y/n commented, happy.

This brought a smile onto the two boys’ faces, honestly whenever she smiled, they had to, her smile was contagious. It brought them so much joy to see her happy, and for them, that’s what mattered the most.

Since y/n’s class was the first they passed, the two left her there after saying their goodbyes, before heading towards Yunho’s classroom.

“Her smile makes me swoon, Yunho. I’m so fucking screwed. I’ve been screwed since the moment she walked into our lives, and I’m not sure what to do.” Mingi confided in Yunho as they walked down the quiet hallways of the English department.

“Why don’t you say something to her? You’ll never know how she’ll react unless you say something to her.” Yunho advised Mingi, but also felt saddened that the man he was in love with, maybe didn’t love him back. Why else would he constantly talk about his crush on y/n with him, if the man didn’t see him as just a friend. Eventually, Yunho had to head into class, which left Mingi to head to the studio by himself.

A while later…

Yunho had opened the door to his and Mingi’s apartment, and after removing his shoes, walked over to their couch and flopped down on it. He was so tired from today, and honestly, he couldn’t stop thinking about his two best friends, they were both so pretty today. He just wanted to kiss them both senseless, but they just had to be so fucking oblivious, didn’t they?

He laid on the couch groaning over the stupidity of his crushes until he heard the door open, looking up to see both of them walk in. Of course they both entered at the same time, think of the devils and they shall appear, it actually works.

“Oh, Yunho, you got back earlier than us!” Mingi commented after seeing the taller man on the couch.

“I got here about five minutes ago, so I haven’t been home long.

Y/n came to sit on the couch by his feet, having dropped her bag by the door. She smiled over at him, before moving her feet to place them on either side of Yunho’s legs. This moved the man to push himself up on the couch, to give her more room to spread out.

“How were your classes?” He asked her, to which she just shrugged.

Her classes had been boring, and besides she barely paid attention in them. The only thoughts running through her head that afternoon were how much she wanted to say something to them, to tell them about her feelings. Her train of thoughts started down the spiral of every bad thing that could happen if she spoke about how she felt, and she brought her legs into her chest and rested her head on them, unable to look Yunho in the eyes any longer.

Yunho frowned at seeing her curl into herself, and once Mingi returned to the living room, so did he.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you like this?” The music major asked her, kneeling down next to her.

Hearing the concern from her crush only made her feel sadder, knowing that she was only a friend, that his concern for her came from friendliness, nothing more. She shook her head, unable to open her mouth, if she spoke she’d spill everything. She felt her head get tilted upwards, but she kept her gaze down, not having the courage to look at either of them.

“Y/n, look at me, please.” Yunho pleaded with her, and it worked. She couldn’t bear to hear him sound so sad.

“Talk to us, sweetheart.” He asked her.

She shook her head. “It’d ruin everything. I can’t.” She said, tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked up at him and Mingi, who had moved to Yunho’s side.

“What are you talking about? You’re not going to ruin anything Y/nnie. We promise.” Mingi promised her, tears gathering in his own eyes at seeing her cry.

Yunho breathed in, knowing exactly why she was like this. God, Mingi and her were so similar it hurts him. They’re both so filled with fear at ruining things, when he knows that none of them would let that happen. They were both so stupid when it came to love, and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud, though he immediately regretted it as he saw y/n face fill with hurt.

“Oh baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry for laughing, but I couldn’t help but laugh at you and Mingi.” Yunho told her, eyes filled with sincerity.

“Why are you laughing at me?” Mingi questioned, confused but a little upset.

“You’re both so smart and yet so stupid.” Was all Yunho said at first.

“Yah! What do you mean by that?!” Mingi exclaimed, hitting Yunho in the shoulder.

“You’re both pining after each other, and you’re both too blind to see it!” He revealed their crushes on each other, while being sad that one of his crushes may not be reciprocated.

“I have a crush on you too!” “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids!�� Y/n and Mingi blurted out as they looked at Yunho, who in turn was shocked that they both were in love with him too.

“Well I guess that makes three idiots in love.” Y/n said, recovering from the shock of it all first.

“I guess it does.” Yunho said, blushing.

Mingi pulled Yunho into a searing kiss, relieved that he was finally able to do so after so many years, as y/n watched, getting a little hot and bothered from watching them. Her crushes actually liked her back.

When the boys pulled back for some air, Yunho reached out to y/n, and the girl grabbed his hand and let him pull her closer to the two. Mingi ran his fingers through her hair as Yunho leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Why does he get a kiss and not me?” She whined, to which Mingi quickly shut her up with a kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist. Yunho bit his lip as he watched them, eyes wide.

Y/n returned the kiss wholeheartedly, but let Mingi take control, knowing she’d never overpower the taller man. Fuck, this is what she’s dreamed of for years and it’s finally happening. She never wanted this moment to end, but as he pulled away for air, she found that she didn’t mind as much, since Yunho swooped in to kiss her himself. She was in heaven right now, she couldn’t be happier than she was in this moment, in between her two crushes, who liked her back and she finally felt all the weight and anxiety over this fall away, replaced with unadulterated happiness.

She slowly pulled away from Yunho when she was just about out of air, but smiled at him as she pulled back enough to look at the two of them.

“So, now that we’ve all revealed our feelings, what does that mean for us?” She asked.

“I’ve wanted to date you both for years. So I’d like to have you both as my girlfriend and boyfriend, respectively.” Yunho said, looking at both of them.

“That’s what I want too.” Mingi piped up, and they could still see some tears in his eyes.

“Well, we’re all on the same page then, it seems. I finally have the two boyfriends of my dreams.” She said, giggling to herself at the end.

“It’s not gonna be too different from how we normally act, just a bit more touching and maybe some kissing too.” Yunho said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Lots of kissing, if I have my way.” Mingi smirked, suddenly gaining confidence now that everything was out in the open.

Y/n blushed at that thought, she felt like kissing would be the least of her worries with these boys as her boyfriends. Mingi was already shaping up to be a menace of a boyfriend, and she was sure Yunho would be the same, if not a bit sweeter. Mingi laid on top of her, squishing her as she protested, saying that she’s getting crushed. Mingi responded by peppering her face with kisses, before ending it with a kiss on her lips.

“Okay, let’s not crush our girlfriend, yeah?” Yunho, ever the voice of reason, said as he pulled Mingi off of her.

He pulled the slightly shorter man until Yunho’s chest was touching Mingi’s back, and Mingi beckoned her to come join them. She laid chest to chest on the music major, and smiled up at him and Yunho. This was how they spent the rest of the night, touching each other in some way, even after they had to get off of the couch. Oh, and lots of kissing of course, that was a given with Mingi around.

#ateez x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #yungi x reader #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #yunho fluff #yunho imagines #mingi fluff #mingi imagines #song mingi x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez mingi #song mingi #ateez yunho #jeong yunho

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qiupachups · 6 months

Text

miles.g / wiles

.｡.+*☆ headcannons 👾💭

contents: general hcs, mention of his father’s death, i call 42-miles ‘wiles’, me sorta bullying him

a/n: after a lot of procrastination and harassment gentle encouragement from @vhstown i’m finally posting my hcs. :3c (they’ve been sitting here since july)

Despite his tough guy exterior and criminal career, he's actually a massive nerd geek. Like: gundham, comics, posters all over his room.

Until you bring up those interests, he won't mention them. But once you start a conversation about them, he can tell you all the lore front to back or tell you where and when each collectible is from. Just listening to Wiles and nodding along will make his day.

Accepting help from others is not an option. Ever. He's an overly D.I.Y guy since his father's death and it's staying that way.

... unless you're very close to him. Wiles will begrudgingly accept your help and then be adamant on repaying you. No matter how trivial it was, he'll show his gratitude through service.

Wiles has great memory and knows all the lyrics to his favourite songs. Go through his playlist and pick something at random- he'll recite them flawlessly!

A good memory also helps with remembering those flashes of songs playing on your lock screen. Just a split second glance? He's adding it to his playlist, maybe listening to it as he works on his latest gear.

Would be a straight A student if he were there half the time. The only thing keeping his total grades down is attendance, where he’s often absent.

However, if he’s in a group project with you, Wiles will put more effort into it. Getting a ‘C’ or GPA point lower is fine if it means keeping Brooklyn safer. What’s not fine is him being the reason for your lower marks.

Unlike his counterpart from 1610, Wiles’ art is more realistic. He tries to capture the subjects’ essence quickly and minimally, so colours are an afterthought.

Accuracy was his pride in art until it came to you. He’d be so nervous in getting your smile right, scribbling failed attempts over and over again. Wiles even resorted to a pencil sketch.

Following the passing of Jefferson, Wiles has gotten much closer to Rio. That’s a no brainer; he was fourteen— a kid. And Jefferson never got to see his son in that overpriced Visions uniform.

Wiles makes an effort to speak more Spanish. He lets his mamí braid his hair even if it hurts like hell. Those stupid telenovelas aren’t that bad on the second watch.

Once upon a time, Wiles used to be a choir boy (keyword: used). He’d love singing hymns and doing nativities before he could read; all for his mamí and dad to see.

However, the christmas after Jefferson’s passing felt… empty. Wiles quickly lost his passion for choir and now just attends mass with Rio at most.

After years of experience being a choir boy, Wiles has the voice of an angel. Not that you’d know, of course— he intends to take that to the grave. But there’s also a deeper, darker secret… he can’t rap to save his life.

An extremely personal and harrowing Musically comment told him so. Following that attack, twelve year old Wiles abandoned his account with only a black profile picture left behind.

Like any other middle schooler, Wiles had a hype beast phase (he denies it). When Aaron got a Hype shirt for Wiles’ 12th birthday, words couldn’t describe how he almost knocked Aaron down with a hug.

The shirt’s first stain had Wiles distraught and furiously searching ‘remove paint on shirt hacks’ on Youtube. His heart would probably stop if he misplaced a gift from you.

Wiles isn’t the best cook, but he can definitely make himself a good meal. With Rio working night shifts and Uncle Aaron doing… jobs, he has to be self-sufficient.

A secret lil’ side project: he’s trying and failing to replicate Jefferson’s mac ‘n cheese. It wasn’t the best, but it was his. Something’s always off when Wiles makes it and he’s not quite sure what.

Sure, cooking isn’t that hard, but baking is like wizardry to Wiles. AP Chemistry and it’s endless calculations felt way easier than making pan de agua with his mamí.

But, mamí didn’t raise no quitter! On a particularly busy birthday, Wiles pulled together a modest little cake for Rio. She burst into tears seeing the shaky ‘!Feliz Cumple!’ written in too-sweet icing.

Calling Earth-42 a wreck is a massive understatement. Shit’s like Gotham, only very real and very deadly. Just breathing in that damn city air makes Wiles’ skin crawl.

Luckily, he’s got an outlet: boxing. A fun hobby he picked up from Uncle Aaron became his release. Wiles might never be in the ring, but Brooklyn’s more than enough.

a/n #2: what the fuck. this was supposed to be short and silly and fun. exsqueeze me how did this… erm. disjointed mess.

#miles g morales x reader #miles g x reader #prowler miles x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #miles g morales #miles gonzalo morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles headcanons #atsv x reader #atsv headcanons #atsv miles #atsv x you #atsv fanfiction #chewy writes ♪

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thehmn · 10 months

Text

I made a post some time ago (LINK) about how trolls are more nuanced creatures in Scandinavian folklore than in modern English speaking pop culture and are often used as sympathetic allegories for people who just can’t fit in with mainstream society, be it because of their disability, gender or sexuality.

I realized I forgot about the Danish 1856 ballet A Folk Tale (you can watch it on YouTube here LINK) despite it being an excellent example because in modern times it has been reinterpreted to fit this new view of trolls. (Because it’s an older ballet it has less dancing and more miming and acting than you’re probably expecting)

The story to help you better understand the ballet: The human girl Hilda and the troll girl Birthe are swapped as infants.

Many years later during a picnic Birthe is flirting with the nobleman Sir Mogens even though her fiancé Junker Ove is present. She enjoys toying with both of them, much to Ove’s dismay and Mogens’ delight. It all ends in Ove and Birthe having a fight resulting in Birthe leaving with Mogens and Ove staying in the forest past sundown to collect his thoughts.

Suddenly a nearby hill opens and reveals the troll sorceress Muri and her adopted daughter Hilda. Muri tells Hilda to lure Ove closer and get him to drink from an enchanted cup but he refuses, spills the drink and won’t give the cup back. As revenge Muri summons the elves who dance him into madness and leave him scared, confused and half naked in the dark forest (if you only know fantasy elves this is a perfect example of what the original elves are like in Scandinavian folklore)

In the underworld we learn that Hilda has been told she’s an elf girl but she senses something is off. Both of Muri’s sons, Diderik and Viderik, are in love with her but Muri has decided that Diderik should marry her because he’s the oldest. During the engagement party Hilda and Viderik get the guests drunk and run away.

They end up near a sacred spring where they see a priest feed the healing water to sick people. They try to cheer the sick and poor people up with music and dance but suddenly Ove shows up. He still has the elf madness and scares everyone. Mogens happens to walk by and thinks Ove is attacking people so he runs to get help, secretly plotting to get Ove out of the way so he can marry Birthe. Meanwhile Hilda feeds some of the sacred spring water to Ove and dance him back to sanity. Mogens returns with soldiers, hunters and farmers and trap Ove. Viderik helps him escape using his magic music and sends Mogens and his men on a wild goose chase.

Back at the mansion Birthe is terrorizing her servants and even goes as far as to threaten to throw her mother out of the house. Hilda who had been running from Mogens’ men makes her way into the mansion where she is recognized as the true heir to the estate. Because of her horrible treatment of the household Birthe is immediately thrown out onto the street and runs to Mogens for help only to find him under a troll spell. Instead of being horrified she’s delighted. Viderik realize she’s his real sister and while they talk it out other supernatural creatures come out and trap Mogens. Muri and Diderik have been looking for Hilda and Viderik and arrive just as Birthe is starting to come around to the idea that she might be a troll. Muri sees an opportunity and asks Mogens if he wants to marry her daughter Birthe. He’s too terrified and refuses until Muri offer him treasure. When Birthe realizes her troll family is even richer than her human family she immediately accepts that she’s a troll and together Birthe and Mogens follow the trolls into the underworld.

Back at the mansion Hilda and Ove have been reunited and are celebrating their wedding. Mogens and Birthe arrives which at first scares people but they’ve come in peace and to show their good will they’ve bought a dance troupe and preform for the newly weds. The ballet ends on a freeze frame of Hilda and Ove standing in the light, looking towards the human world, and Birthe and Mogens in the dark, raising their arms towards the supernatural world, both couples getting their happiest possible ending.

Now, the original version took place during the renaissance and had a strong Christian theme. Hilda wanted to return to the human world because she longed for Christian values and Ove was like a beacon of purity for her to follow. At the end all trolls left Denmark, symbolizing Christianity finally taking hold of the country.

The updated version takes place in the time it was written and the Christian themes have been severely downplayed. Trolls and all supernatural creatures are still very much present, even watching the wedding from a distance. It is now a personal story about people feeling misplaced and longing for a community that understands and accepts them.

Birthe is aggressive, even cruel at times, but this version also implies her behavior is part nature and part nurture. She is described as spoiled meaning her parents had a huge hand in how she turned out, unable or perhaps unwilling to handle her condition and now her mother despise what she has become. This is evident in how Birthe behaves around her mother. She LOVES her wet nurse who took on the emotional parenting role but recoils at her mother’s touch. She also directs most of her abuse at the housekeeper because she most openly mocks Birthe’s clumsiness and inability to act refined. There’s a heartbreaking scene where Birthe gets so frustrated with her inability to dance and fit in that she screams at her own reflection until the wet nurse calms her down.

Only two people are able to calm Birthe down, her wet nurse who cuddles her when she gets upset and Mogens who is seen directing Birthe’s attention to himself which softens her demeanor because she likes him and doesn’t want to cause him more harm than he can handle.

Both her and Mogens are also more queer coded in this version. Birthe wants to be a dancer and gets very up and close with the female dancers. In the first scene Mogens can be seen flirting with the female staff and in the last scene he feels comfortable openly flirting with the male dancers. It’s worth noting neither acts jealous when they see their partner flirt, again shining a light on their alternative relationship.

And who could forget when Birthe tricks Mogens into kissing Ove. In the taped version he kiss Ove’s hand but in the version I watched live they kissed on the mouth which better explained why Mogens grabs Ove’s face later as if to mockingly say “You think I’m disgusting? Look at what you’ve become”

And you’d think Mogens had more reason to be mad than Ove but no, he’s flustered but gets over it almost immediately while Ove is so angry he rips his jacket off like the good pure boy he is.

And something that really stands out is Mogens’ worship of Birthe. The first time Birthe appears all the other characters run to the opposite end of the stage but Mogens doesn’t even flinch. He just bathes in her presence. When she asks him to push her on the swing he unprompted gets her whip.

In a later scene she’s seen using a bell to bully her servants and the final thing that makes her realize she has lost all power is when they ignore it, which makes it very symbolic that Mogens gives her the bell back in the final scene and holds her up high while she rings it. Boy loves his Dom GF so very very much.

It also says something about Mogens that he randomly appears in the bad part of town. He’s very good at playing the upper class game and seems to be quite respected but also seeks escape in the outskirts of society. When Birthe really gets going you can see Mogens acting shocked followed by pure joy at such a free and wild woman. The Danish translation of Shakespeare’s Taming of The Shrew is Troll can be Tamed and this ballet almost feels like a response to that. Trolls/wild women should not be tamed! They should be free around people who love them for their wildness!

Their behavior is perfectly in line with what we see in the underworld. Muri is played by a male dancer to give her the proper imposing height and it’s left up for interpretation if older female trolls are just bigger than the males or if she’s a trans mommy. The engagement party is risqué from the start and quickly turns into a drunken sex orgy (Good luck to Mogens when he is engaged to Birthe. All I’m saying is as a human he’s going to be very popular with the other creatures) It might seem like an evil world but this version of the ballet really tries to make it clear that this is normal and expected behavior in the underworld. They act like that because they like it and are all happy with the way their society works. Even the more gentle troll Viderik prefer the underworld to the human world. It’s not bad just different.

Birthe and Mongens almost come of as lower level money-happy Disney villains, deserving of a fitting punishment for their treatment of the people around them, but certainly not death and the story is overall sympathetic to them as people who have been mangled by a society that mistreated and punished them for something that was out of their control which is why they get a happy ending. Definitely worth a watch.

#folklore #ballet #troll #scandinavia #denmark #long post

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euphemiaamillais · 3 months

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roommate au where you’ve been feeling neglected and sej & coryo come home to see you down and upset and sej & coryo have to show you that they’re sorry by practically worshipping your body

mdni | sej and coryo show you how sorry they are

you had been frustrated for a whole week—that’s how long it had been since the boys had touched you. a whole week, the longest amount of time it had ever been. typically you couldn’t go a day without one of them coaxing you into bed, but it had been a constant dry spell for the last week.

what had happened was that you had all had conflicting schedules, but also that both sej and coryo were spending time together. you’d caught coryo with sej’s cock in his mouth too many times to count, but you didn’t want to complain. you were glad they were exploring their relationship with each other, but you’d been aching all week, and had to resort to using your vibrator which barely did anything; you found you could only come from their touch now.

when they come home from classes, they find you curled up in your bed, a despondent look on your face. to add to the dramatics (because you heard them coming through the door) you’re playing some sort of sad music as they enter your room. they’ve both got befuddled looks on their faces because they had no idea why you could possibly be so sad.

‘what’s wrong?’ sejanus asks, coming to sit beside you on the bed.

coryo looks down at his feet with a guilty expression on his face—he’s never been good with comforting people, and now that he doesn’t know what he’s done, he isn’t sure he can even think to ask.

‘you know very well what’s wrong, sej. both of you do,’ you sigh, dour expression dimming your features.

sejanus sighs, a frown twitching upon his lips. he strokes your cheek, and it takes everything in you not to flinch and pull away, because you want to make them pay for it, but you also can’t resist sejanus’ sweetness.

‘i’m sorry, baby,’ he presses a kiss to your cheek, but you’re still disgruntled as he pulls away.

‘you can’t be that sorry if you two have been sucking each other off all week—you haven’t so much as touched me,’ your voice is wrung with hurt, and coryo comes to stand across from you, his own face borne with sorry.

‘i think we should show her how sorry we are, sej,’ coryo offers, not so good with words as he is with actions—those of the sensual kind; he can hardly comfort you in times of trouble.

‘would you like that, baby?’ sej coos, and you sit up, still playing up the sad facade.

truth be told, you were upset, but you also felt like milking them and making them feel extra bad—they’d not risk doing this ever again.

‘well…’ you pucker your lips. ‘it depends on how sorry you really are…’

sej and coryo raise their brows at one another, and ever-needy, coryo tugs the duvet off from around you. you’re wearing one of his oversized shirts, and he can see that you’re not wearing any panties underneath.

‘we’re very sorry, aren’t we, sej?’ coryo inquires, rubbing a hand up your thigh.

sejanus nods lazily, leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead. you gasp as coryo’s hand travels up to your cunt, thumb carefully teasing your clit. you bite back a moan, not wanting to give either of them the satisfaction yet.

‘you should know better than to neglect me… you haven’t so much as kissed me all week,’ you whine, pulling sejanus’ mouth against yours before he can speak.

you kiss him with desperation, and side your tongue into his mouth. you’re starved for affection, and let out a few gasps as coryo’s fingers slip inside your cunt. your core begins to grow wet with slick, finally getting that long-awaited touching. you didn’t think you could ever wait so long again.

you could’ve punished the boys by not letting them touch you, but you were so wanting that you couldn’t do that to yourself. that would be true torture. instead, they could show you just how sorry they were, and just how much you deserved to be worshipped, like some goddess on a marble altar.

‘sej, move off of her,’ coryo directs, pushing him away with his free hand.

coryo removes his fingers from your cunt, and you whine, but he moves his face down to nestle between your thighs. his tongue lightly traces the inside of your thighs, lips moving against your skin as he edges closer towards your cunt.

‘mhm, so perfect,’ he muses, nipping at the sensitive skin of your loins.

you tangle a hand in his blonde curls, whining prettily as he worships your body. sejanus’ hands move hungrily to your breasts, rolling your nipples until they harden beneath his touch. once satisfied, he takes one breast in his mouth and laves around the sensitive skin, brown eyes widening as he sees you arch your back.

when coryo licks a long, wet stripe up your cunt you let out a cry of desperation, thighs quivering with desire. sejanus’ lips travel across your chest as he grazes his teeth lightly against the smooth skin, marking you up so you know who you belong to.

coryo’s tongue darts out to lave at your glistening folds, one hand pressing down against your mound as you squirm from the sensation. the pressure is pleasant, and you find that all your pent-up heat has caused you wetness to pool stickily in your cunt.

‘coryo,’ you murmur, head rolling back against the pillow.

sejanus moves his lips to kiss at the skin on your belly, the ticklish sensation of his wet mouth sending shivers down your spine while coryo continues to lick your wet cunt. he looks angelic almost, with his golden curls buried between your thighs, every so often glancing up at you through his baby blues; though the smirk on his lips is not visible, you can feel it as he watches you writhe with pleasure.

‘gonna make you feel so good,’ sejanus mumbles, pushing your thighs further apart so he can join coryo.

a gleeful smile scampers across your face as you realise they are completely submissive to your needs now—they’re really very sorry. sejanus nudges coryo to the side, and you groan at the lack of pleasure for a brief moment, but you’re once again overcome as both their mouths work at you.

while coryo’s works at your wet cunt, tip delving in and out of your hole, sejanus’ lips are wrapped skilfully around your throbbing clit. the sensations of pleasure are multiplied, and it’s enough to send you over the edge. you’re not sure who to hold onto anymore, and instead you fist your hands in your sheets, sputtering and whimpering pathetically as you feel waves of warmth wash over you.

your skin is dancing with fire as they continue to bring you to your peak, sejanus is sucking at your sensitive clit, groaning as he coaxes you the fire in your belly. coryo’s tongue is enjoying the sweetness of your juices, while his fingers grasp at your right thigh, drawing circles around the smooth skin.

they’re so sorry for how neglectful they’ve been, and they eat you out like they’re starving men, faces buried in your wet cunt, relishing in the delicious taste of you. coryo slips a finger inside your hole, and when he arches it ever so slightly to brush against your g-spot you begin to feel yourself unfurl.

‘fuck,’ you gasp, clawing desperately at the sheets.

their tongues are furiously lapping at you, dragging you out towards your pleasure, and every so often one of them will gaze up at you with fucked-out eyes, completely drunk off the taste of your pussy.

you can’t take it anymore, the feeling of both of their mouths against your cunt causes heat to dance across your skin, and the pit in your belly fills with warmth. coryo’s finger arches once again against your g-spot, and you are left gasping as you bush around him, slickness spilling out against his fingers.

sejanus continues to flick your clit with his tongue, enjoying the way you are writhing, but coryo removes his mouth to another part of your body, moving over the marks sejanus has left and making some of his own. he nips at the sensitive skin of your collarbone, one finger tracing one of your hard nipples, marking you up across the thin bones of your clavicle.

‘sej, please,’ you have tears in your eyes, bordering on another orgasm.

the build up of this one is strong, his tongue is fully delving at every part of your cunt, licking and sucking at the remnants of your previous orgasm as his thumb rubs at your clit. your cunt throbs around nothing, walls clenching tightly, begging for something to fill it up, but you have to be satisfied with sejanus’ mouth.

your whole body fills with heat again, and this time you feel your toes curling and your vision dancing with white, sejanus’ tongue so skilfully coaxing you over the edge.

‘fuck, i’m going to come again,’ you gasp, feeling the right knot in your belly come undone, and your body trembles a little.

sejanus pulls back, a little shocked because you’ve gushed out all over the sheets, juices soaking what’s underneath you. your body tingles pleasantly, and you bring coryo up to meet your lips, pressing a hot kiss to his mouth as you ride out your orgasm.

sejanus can’t believe it, that you’ve squirted, and when you pull away from coryo you see it too. it had felt amazing, but you hadn’t quite noticed just how much wetness had come out of you. your cheeks redden at the sight of the soaked sheets, and sejanus who is licking it off his fingers.

‘did we make you squirt, huh?’ coryo laughs, bemused that sejanus of all people had made a girl do that.

you nod lazily. ‘mhm, must’ve. but i think i’ve got sej to thank for that. you stopped eating my cunt, which is a shame because you used to do it so well.’

‘used to?’ he cocks a brow, a look of guffaw crossing his face. sejanus is beaming smugly.

‘uh huh, i think sej will have to take the title now—unless you wanna try and make me squirt, pretty boy,’ you tease, pushing him down towards your cunt.

‘come on, i’m not done here yet. if you are really sorry, you boys will make me come at least three more times tonight.’

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aevallare · 3 months

Text

excuses

light plot. heavy smut. mind the warnings. you can read on ao3 here

pairing: astarion/f!tav

word count: 4424

warnings: Aphrodisiacs, Semi-Public Sex, Squirting, Gags, Vaginal Fingering, Soft Dom Astarion, Wall Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Biting, Hand Kink, Inappropriate Use of Tadpole | Illithid Parasite Powers, Established Relationship, Rough Sex, Hair-pulling

preview:

“Go.” Auri's voice is hoarse. “This isn't your problem.”

Astarion's eyes narrow. “If you really think that I'm going to leave you here by yourself–”

“Astarion, please.” Again, Auri begs. “Something was wrong with that meat I ate. It feels infernal. Everything’s so warm. I can't–”

enjoy!!

-----

The orthon’s dead and his stronghold is now their camp for the evening. It’s a nice change from the usual; after barricading the entrance, they won’t even have to take watches. It’s well-fortified and Auri’s reasonably confident that they’ve wiped out anything in the immediate area that might want to kill them.

So spirits are light.

When Wyll jokingly tells her to lick the spider, Auri rolls her eyes at him. “Don’t be stupid. We’ll take it back to camp and cook it.”

Astarion won’t partake regardless, but he does afford her two raised eyebrows in response. Shadowheart grimaces and Wyll barks out a laugh that fades when Auri doesn’t join him.

“You’re joking,” Wyll says weakly. Auri sets her mouth in a line.

“There isn’t much else to eat down here.”

“Unless you’re Astarion,” Shadowheart snorts. It’s true enough, though it makes Auri blush. The marks on her neck are testament to that.

Wyll stares at Auri as she harvests meat from the spider with a dagger she pulls from her belt, and he says, “I’ll stick with what rations we have, I think.”

Auri shrugs. She ate worse when she was on the street. Her knife cuts into the spider’s corpse with a sickening crack through the exoskeleton before Astarion asks, “What are you doing?”

Auri looks up at him. “I told you I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.”

“No, that’s not–” Astarion pinches the bridge of his nose and crouches down next to her. “Move. You’re mutilating it.”

Auri’s barely started and he’s criticizing her. When he shoos her to the side with a flick of his wrist, Auri lets herself be dismissed. She stands, and behind them, Wyll and Shadowheart get to work setting up camp.

They’ve all long shed their armor. Astarion’s careful to push up the sleeves of his shirt before pulling a dagger of his own from his boot. The veins of his forearms thread down into his hands, thick and protruding, and as Auri watches, he gets to work.

“Did you moonlight as a butcher while you were a magistrate?” Auri asks.

Astarion exhales a laugh. “No, but as you might have guessed, taking things apart was an oft-used skill of mine after my time as a magistrate.”

The joke is dark, but Astarion doesn’t seem upset. In fact, he continues, “Are you really going to eat spider meat?”

“I put vampire in my mouth all the time and you never seem to complain about that.”

“True. Your exotic appetite is one of my favorite things about you.”

His dagger filets with grace; no movement is wasted. When he’s finally picked the spider clean, he looks up at her. The dagger’s still in his hand and he toys with it absently.

Auri’s always been enamored of his hands. Her own are calloused, roughened by years of playing every instrument she could get her hands on. They’re a lyrist’s hands. There’s nothing wrong with them; they’re nothing but tools.

His, though.

Astarion’s hands have never made music as far as Auri knows, but they make the world sing at his discretion anyway. Flesh and skin bow and warble at his fingers’ mercy, and gods know that her body’s sung under his touch more times than she can count.

Her hands are tools. His are art.

Astarion’s thumb brushes over the hilt of his dagger a final time before he stows it once more. Auri’s mouth is dry and it occurs to her that she’s staring. Astarion’s eyes catch hers and he smirks.

“See something you like, darling?”

His hand drifts up to push his hair out of his eyes. Auri’s gaze follows the movement like it’s a compulsion.

“Always,” she manages, and Astarion laughs for real then, a soft, secret thing that she’d never be graced with if Shadowheart or Wyll were nearby.

“Be careful staring like that. I might get the wrong idea.”

Auri blinks at him, finally pulled from the single-minded fixation she’s had on his hands. “What do you mean? We had sex just a couple of days ago–”

“Details.”

Auri gathers the meat in her hands and walks to the campfire. No one bothers her as she stokes the flames before skewering the meat on a sharpened stick and setting it to roast on the fire.

Shadowheart settles in next to her, and when she does, she wrinkles her nose. “That smells awful.”

“Everything down here smells awful–”

Astarion’s taken a seat and cracked open a book, but without looking up, he says, “You’re both right. This place absolutely reeks and that filth you’re cooking is making it worse.”

Wyll laughs. Auri frowns. Shadowheart huffs.

When the meat, for all intents and purposes, appears cooked, Auri pulls it from the fire. “You two are sure you don’t want any?” She looks at Wyll and Shadowheart in turn.

Wyll, at least, says, “No, thank you.”

Shadowheart just scoffs. “I’d rather starve.”

Auri shrugs. Her teeth tear through the spider meat, and if Auri doesn’t chew, it doesn’t taste so bad. Shadowheart’s grimace grows more and more disgusted, but Auri’s got a full stomach, so she doesn’t particularly care.

-----

There’s been little time to be unfocused in the Gauntlet of Shar. Everything is a potential or actual threat, and though he’s more or less convinced of their safety in this fortified pocket of ground that the orthon carved out for himself, Astarion still trances with a dagger in arm’s reach.

Still, his trance is light, and it’s been less than a day since he’s fed. He’s so much more when his senses are thrumming with Auri’s blood–

And it’s the sound of Auri that wakes him.

It’s a stifled, strangled, choking noise that pulls Astarion from his trance. It’s not close by, but he’d recognize Auri anywhere. It doesn’t sound like she’s in danger, exactly–

But Astarion slinks out from his tent anyway. Wyll and Shadowheart are nowhere to be seen; if he focuses, he can hear them both, breathing heavy with sleep in their tents. It’s hard to do that, though, when Auri’s gasping grows more and more labored.

So he follows it. And he finds her. And the reason she’s so far from camp isn’t hard to deduce once he does.

Auri’s slouched against a crumbling stone pillar. She’s managed to find a place free from bloodshed and gore, and her mind is entirely elsewhere (though she almost certainly wouldn’t have noticed Astarion anyway). From this angle it’s difficult to make much out, but Astarion doesn’t need to be able to see her in order to know what she’s doing.

Even from here, he can hear her ragged whimpering. He can smell the heat between her legs.

There’s something in Auri’s mouth, but when she slumps further down the pillar with a moan that dances on the line between relief and frustration, there’s no mistaking what she’s doing. She’s just made herself come, and she’s unsatisfied with the result.

She pulls the cloth from her mouth and whines, “Fuck.” Her body heaves and she fists both hands in her hair, leggings loose around her hips.

The idea of just watching her is appealing, but as Astarion looks on, tears prick at Auri’s eyes. He can see her bite the inside of her cheek in the way that she does when she feels that things are hopeless, and when he says, “I hope you don’t mind me saying, love, but you’ve looked better,” Auri doesn’t even startle. That’s when Astarion knows that something is truly wrong. He’d guessed, of course – there’s a feverish sweat beading on her brow and it’s unusual for her to wander off alone – but when she greets him without her usual bright smile, there’s no room left for doubt.

“Go back to camp. Please.”

There’s desperation in her voice. Astarion tilts his head to the side. “Darling–”

The pet name barely leaves his mouth before he feels her parasite push into his mind. It doesn't ask permission before it enters; Auri's lost control entirely. Astarion grunts in shock and then the assault of her tadpole on his comes into focus.

What afflicts her is lust incarnate.

“Please.” Auri struggles to form words but she tries anyway. “I'm not… myself. I can take care of this on my own. I swear.”

She's whimpering, filled with so much desire that it's causing her physical pain. When Auri tells him to leave, it's not for her own benefit. He can tell because of what the tadpole pushes into his mind, Auri's will be damned.

I could think about his hands forever. If he was the only one to touch me for the rest of my life, I'd be satisfied.

Astarion doesn't recognize what magic this is exactly, but her lust is unnaturally strong. “Not that I'm not flattered, but–”

There's a stone slab that was probably used as a table. I'm bent over it. Astarion's behind me and neither of us has bothered getting undressed. His cock pushes into me and when it does, there's finally some sense of relief. If it weren't for the gag, I'd scream loud enough to attract every enemy from here to the Underdark when he thrusts.

Astarion, suddenly, is also finding it difficult to form coherent thought.

“Go.” Auri's voice is hoarse. “This isn't your problem.”

Astarion's eyes narrow. “If you really think that I'm going to leave you here by yourself–”

“Astarion, please.” Again, Auri begs. “Something was wrong with that meat I ate. It feels infernal. Everything’s so warm. I can't–”

Auri lets out a muted moan. When Astarion steps forward, she does her best to shrink away, but the pillar she'd been using for support stops her. She doesn’t want to ask. She doesn’t want to put him in a position where he’d have to say yes or no.

He puts his palm on stone in the space next to her head.

“Would you feel better if I touched you?” Astarion asks.

Auri’s fingers shake. Her eyes flit between the hand that he isn’t using to support himself and his face.

“I don’t know,” she says. Her pulse throbs in her throat. “You don’t have to–”

He interrupts her, ignoring the latter half of her words. “Would you like to try?”

A sob wrenches itself from her body. “It’s the only thing I can think about.”

And at last, he won’t be the one at the mercy of her kindness. Maybe he’d feel used if it were someone else. But it isn’t. It’s her.

Astarion dips down to kiss her, and again, Auri’s lust pours into him. She bites at his lip greedily, hips bucking forward gracelessly into his.

When he pulls away, hand sliding beneath her waistband, Auri says, “The gag.”

Somehow, Astarion had forgotten about that. “The gag?”

Auri nods her head, a moment from falling apart without him even having touched any of the places she likes best. “The others– I don’t want the others to hear.”

When a finger slides inside her, Auri’s eyes roll to the back of her head. She’s warmer than usual, but other than that and the desire rolling off of her body, she doesn’t seem to be in any danger.

Yes. He can take care of this.

Astarion’s palm pushes up against her clit as his finger gets to work, and with his other hand, he pulls Auri’s makeshift gag up from around her neck. “What is this?”

“I stole a clean bandage from Shadowheart’s things. Another finger, please. It’s not enough–”

The Auri he’s used to is a tender thing, though she’s more than capable of playing rough. He punctuates the second finger that she asked for by stuffing the cloth bandage into her mouth. She was wet already; when the gag’s back in place, she clenches around his fingers.

“Do you want to talk or do you want me to take care of you?” he asks.

There’s fire in her eyes. Auri can’t speak, but the images she pushes into him are obscene. Astarion doesn’t even have time to process them all before he says, “Well, we can certainly try a few.”

Astarion feels the tension inside her play up with each touch. Her leggings have fallen to her ankles and the hand that’s not buried in her cunt massages her breast. He gives her nipple a delicate twist, and the strangled moan that escapes her is more than worth his trouble. The other breast falls prey to his mouth instead, and when he bites at the soft flesh there, Auri’s knees buckle.

“We can’t have that, love,” he says, and he heaves her leg up, the crook of her knee in his hand. She’s still technically wearing her leggings; they’re just in a pool around the leg still holding her to the ground. Auri’s eyes go wide at the new angle, but there’s no complaint. From here, Astarion can touch her easily, freely, and as his pace quickens, so too does her heart rate.

Please, Astarion– please–

The gag’s occupied her mouth, but she’s still able to beg through the parasite.

“I do love how you look when you come for me,” he says, and with his fingers hitched inside her, Auri shatters. It’s different from usual but no less entrancing, and for the briefest moment as Auri squirts into his hand, she almost looks like herself.

Her eyes are wide. Gods.

“That’s new,” he says, and Auri would probably laugh if the gag wasn’t still in her mouth. “Feel better?”

His cock’s hard, but that’s hardly the point of this venture.

Auri pauses before nodding, and maybe Astarion would believe it if her body language wasn’t completely at odds with her mind flooding him with the image of him spilling himself inside her as she's bent over the slab of stone that he can see from the corner of his eye. Astarion smirks, feathering his thumb over her hypersensitive clit as he pulls his fingers out from inside her. She whimpers for him, and he whispers in her ear, “Liar.”

This isn’t your problem, she says again.

Astarion licks the evidence of her orgasm from his hand. Her eyes lock onto the motion, and when he’s done, he lifts her into his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Unfortunately, without you around, my meal ticket disappears. So you are indeed my problem.”

She’s bare from the waist down. Auri’s slick enough that Astarion can feel it through his clothes. His cock’s already straining against his trousers.

She’s his problem in more ways than one.

When he lays her down on her back, he’s careful to make sure her shirt’s pulled down. The slab’s rough, unfinished, but she doesn’t seem to care. She sits up, pulling the gag from her mouth, and she says, “Let me.”

Auri reaches for the laces that will free his erection, but Astarion takes a step back so that he’s out of reach. He plucks the gag from her hand, and says, “I asked before. Do you want to talk or do you want me to take care of you?”

A shiver runs up her body and she doesn’t answer.

And that's answer enough, really. Well. That and the picture of him pulling her to the edge of the slab, bottoming out inside her, her breasts bare.

With painstaking restraint, Astarion exhales through his nose. “Oh, darling,” he says through gritted teeth. “Lie back for me, would you?”

If pressed, he’d admit it’s not the most graceful way he’s ever pulled out his cock, but it’s difficult to care when Auri is quite literally dripping in front of him. Her throat quivers and her fingers twitch; she’s doing everything she can not to touch herself, though Astarion’s not quite sure why.

He strokes himself thoughtlessly, like it’s the only natural course of action, but he won’t leave her wanting. This isn’t a night for games, although they’ve both been having fun despite her condition if the state of her thoughts is any indicator. When he dips down and presses a kiss between her legs, Auri cries out.

The gag’s still in his hand.

He fills her mouth with it in the same moment that he fills her cunt with his cock.

To distill Auri down into one word is impossible, but when he’s inside her, Astarion would struggle to name any adjective but warm. She’s a billion things, of course, not least of all naive, gullible, and foolhardy, but more than anything, she’s the essence of the sun made flesh. She’s made warmer still by whatever it is that’s afflicting her, but her body always leaves him in awe anyway.

A marvel of mortality.

When he thrusts into her, the gag swallows up a squeal that Astarion would frankly have liked to hear in its entirety. Auri’s hand reaches up behind her, nails scrabbling for purchase against unrelenting stone. When she turns her head to the side, saliva pools under her cheek, her eyes half-lidded. The underside of her breast teases him from beneath her shirt, and it’s like she was made for him–

Rip the shirt. I don’t care.

Somehow, even through her addled haze, she’s still thinking about his enjoyment. He could wonder at it, but he’d rather spend the time doing as she says. Astarion fists a hand in the front of her shirt and pulls her close. Auri’s head lolls backward before she regains the wherewithal to support herself, and before Astarion can second-guess himself, his fangs tear into her shirt enough that his hands can do the rest.

He takes a breast in his hand and squeezes as he pushes her down onto her back again, but not before he lifts her legs up onto either of his shoulders. Auri folds almost in half for him, his hips grinding against her clit as he buries himself fully inside her.

Frantic need and desire ripple through her, and if Astarion isn't careful, he'll lose control himself. The new position's made her tighter, and she's close. Astarion can feel it in the way her hips match his rhythm and from the desperate want in her eyes as her walls clench around him.

“My beautiful, depraved thing,” Astarion says, thrusting deep. It's impossible to keep his voice unaffected, but it doesn't matter. It has its intended effect anyway. “Look at you, those pretty tits bouncing as you take my cock. What would the others think if they saw you like this?”

Astarion–

“Their pretty little leader with her shirt torn open, bare on her back, coming for me again? It's a sight beyond compare.”

He won't spend himself inside her yet, though the temptation is certainly there. She's been pouring images of him fucking her into his head since they started, and this time, he returns the favor. When Auri sees herself as Astarion sees her, pupils blown out, blotchy all over, gag soaked through, she unravels. The parasite explodes with her orgasm; Astarion feels it rip through her like it's his own even as she spasms around him.

His own eyes roll back as Auri’s scream fights against the gag, but he doesn't come, and even as the climax is still rolling over her, Astarion hears her.

More– I'm sorry; I need–

She never asks for what she wants – not like this. Auri's always thinking of what he needs.

And she'd shown him before what she wanted.

“You need my cum, don't you? You want me to fuck you until I empty myself inside you?”

Whatever other thoughts she might have had go mute. Her eyes lock with his.

And this really isn't about him, but it occurs to Astarion that that's exactly what he wants, too.

He pulls his cock out from her and misses her warmth immediately, but it's a necessary evil. The beautiful thing about the tadpole and all the time that they’ve spent together is that they’re always a little bit in each other’s heads. The thought is terrifying if Astarion considers it too long, but it’s convenient that they’re on the same page about her scrambling off of the slab. Before she can readjust, Astarion presses his lips to her neck. That, too, makes her moan, and the echoes of her affection rattle along their connection.

I adore you, Auri says, and they could have done all this without Auri’s feverish state as an excuse, but it does remove an element of vulnerability that makes things much easier for Astarion.

The feeling’s mutual, though voicing it still makes his skin crawl. He doesn’t have the vocabulary for it anyway.

His fingers trail up her jawline. Auri’s eyes shine. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs instead, and when she reaches down between his legs to take him in her hand, his nostrils flare.

She’s still the sun compared to him. Warmth radiates from her. His judgment’s impaired by his personal desire and the feeling of Auri’s hand on his cock, still slick from being inside her. Astarion’s eyes flutter shut.

Briefly, he registers that she isn't quite as warm as she was before, but there's no room for the thought.

Show me what to do, Auri says, as if she doesn't already know. It's the opposite of how this started, when she didn't want to put him in a position where he'd feel obligated to please her.

Auri's tadpole brushes up against his, and he'd known anyway, but it becomes crystal-clear.

Take what you want.

She makes him so fucking hungry.

In the fastest motion he can manage, Astarion pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the slab. The least he can do is make sure that it doesn’t mangle her.

Auri bites her lip as she releases him from her grasp, and Astarion wouldn’t say he’s being rough, but he certainly isn’t gentle when he turns her so her back’s flush with his chest. A thrill thrums through her, and then Auri’s bent over, upper body splayed across the stone.

When Astarion sheaths himself inside her again, it’s home. There’s no resistance. Auri’s body takes him like it’s what she was made to do.

There’s no patience left in him. Every time his hips meet the curve of her ass, he’s another moment closer to his own release. Auri whimpers and whines, and each sound that escapes the gag increases his pace. The freckles on her back are a constellation he’s rarely afforded the privilege of seeing while buried inside her, and his thrusts grow shallower, undisciplined–

Hells, Auri manages, half-coherent this time as he fucks her. Her singular word spurs something carnal in his gut, and he leans down, fisting a hand in her hair and pulling her face up and away from the slab.

When he does, she looks up at him from the corner of her eye. Her walls clench and his cock twitches as her gaze meets his, and she can’t really smile around the gag, but devilish pleasure is evident in her face.

He’s close. They’ve been in this position for barely a moment, but everything leading up to this moment has left Astarion close to undone as is. His grip on her hair tightens, and when she says, I can take whatever you give, Astarion’s last bit of self-control gives way.

He pulls her up, hand never releasing her hair, and when his other hand grips at her thigh, Auri knows what he wants. With only a little help from him, his cock never leaving her cunt, she kneels on the slab. Astarion exposes her neck and kisses the spot that’s his, the place he’s marked a hundred times over, and Auri shivers. Drink while you come in me– she starts, but his fingers interrupt her when they brush against her clit. Auri inhales sharply against the gag, airflow made more difficult by Astarion’s unloosened grip in her hair.

“Come for me again,” Astarion says. It’s almost a command but not quite, and Auri makes every desperate, needy sound all at once. His fingers rub at her clit, slow, deliberate, like he isn’t a hair’s breadth from shattering himself. “You taste better when you come.”

His touch quickens as he speaks, and he could lose himself in her. He already has.

Auri’s back arches, her ass pushing into him and her neck craning up until her head nearly rests on his shoulder. The artery in her neck sings its siren song, and Astarion’s not in the habit of denying himself what Auri’s body offers him.

This time when his lips meet her neck it’s a different kind of kiss, though it has Auri gasping anyway. Her saliva’s dripping down her neck in the same way her cunt drips cum around his cock. Auri’s blood pounds down Astarion’s throat as he fucks up into her, her climax pushing him to his own end. His teeth tear at her skin as he spills himself inside her, and Auri’s parasite radiates what he can only call unparalleled ecstasy.

Astarion doesn’t even want to think about what she can hear through his tadpole.

Auri shakes in his arms; her knees barely seem capable of supporting her. It’s always the hardest thing that Astarion’s ever done to pull his fangs from Auri’s flesh, and it’s made doubly difficult when he pulls his cock from her warmth at the same time.

“Alright, darling?” he asks, releasing her hair from his grasp. It’s a silly question. Astarion doesn’t know why he asks it.

Auri pulls the gag from her mouth and regards it with a look of disgust, dropping it to the ground. “When we do this again, can we get something a little more, erm–” Auri wrinkles her nose, but she hardly seems unhappy. “Dignified?”

“When we do this again?” Astarion teases, relacing his breeches. “Planning on eating more of that spider meat?”

When Auri turns to face him, she lets herself drop into a kneeling position. The adoration’s never faded from her eyes.

“If it gets you to fuck me like that, I’ll do just about anything.”

So, yes. She seems to be perfectly alright. Almost too alright.

Astarion’s eyes narrow.

“Whatever that was– it lost its grip on you after you came for me that second time, didn’t it?”

Auri smiles at him shamelessly. She’s made no move whatsoever to get dressed, entirely content to be here with him in a state that’s wholly vulnerable.

“We were having fun, weren’t we?” she asks.

Astarion laughs, soft and low.

“Yes. We were.”

#astarion #astarion x tav #tavstarion #tav x astarion #bg3 fic #bg3 tav #bg3 smut #astarion smut #astarion ancunin

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steddieasitgoes · 5 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 5 Prompt: Grinch vs Christmas Cheer

Tags: Modern AU, Eddie Munson & Jeff, Steve & Eddie Are Neighbors, Teacher Steve, Meet Cute

wc: 1863 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“I thought you said you talked to them?” Eddie groans. He tips his head so far back he wobbles in the chair for a moment before he rights himself and buries his head in his hands. “I can’t work under these conditions!”

“I don’t think planning a campaign counts as working,” Jeff teases.

They’re in their apartment kitchen. Jeff cooking something that smells a hundred times better than the vending machine sandwich he had for lunch at the shop. Free from his day job, Eddie’s working on something he actually cares about now. The latest Dungeons & Dragons handbook is open to a random page while his trusty notebook sits open. There’s no use in hiding it from Jeff. It’s not like he could decipher Eddie’s chicken scratch penmanship anyway.

Besides, he hasn’t gotten much of anything done since he plopped down on the worn leather chair. It’s hard to work with the blaring sound of Mariah fucking Carey’s Christmas album playing on repeat for the third day straight coming from their neighbor's apartment. The obnoxious whirling of the fans keeping a dozen or so Christmas inflatables blown up on their shared stairwell and balcony also doesn’t help.

If this continues any longer, Eddie swears he’s going to find them a new place to live. The peace and quiet would be worth losing out on their rent-controlled place. At least, Eddie thinks so. Christ, he misses the Richards who moved last year. He’d take their scowls and snide comments over this Christmas madness any day.

“It absolutely counts as working,” Eddie scoffs, shooting a glare in Jeff’s direction. “And don’t change the subject, Jefferson. Did you even talk to Mr. and Mrs. Claus next door?”

Jeff snorts, shaking his head before returning to the pot of sauce he has simmering. “No, I didn’t and I’m not going to.”

“Jeff!” Eddie whines. “Your job as the approachable one of this house is to confront our neighbors when they’re annoying us.”

“Okay, but they’re not annoying me.”

“Well, that’s a lie. You hate Michael Buble as much as I do and I know you heard his stupid crooning voice at seven this morning like I did.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there,” Jeff sighs, turning away from the stove to face Eddie. “But I can’t tell them to lower their music! Not when they haven’t complained once about the shit you blare at all hours of the night or our Corroded practices when we have nowhere else to go.”

If Eddie was less stubborn, maybe he’d see that Jeff has a point. But he is stubborn, so he doubles down instead.

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not.”

“Fine,” Eddie shouts, throwing his hands up in defeat. The headache festering behind is eyes is too painful for him to keep arguing with Jeff. Besides, he’s never been able to push Jeff around. It’s why they make such good roommates. “Can you at least talk to them about their decorating habits then? I had to wade through a fucking forest of inflatables this afternoon. M’pretty sure Frosty the fucking Snowman almost punched my balls.”

“Eds, need I remind you that a few days ago you had the entire place decked out for Halloween? How is a few inflatables different than all those skeletons and demon shit you had up?”

“First of all, how dare you compare my artistry to whatever is going on outside,” Eddie scoffs. He’s going to give himself a sore throat if he keeps this up. “I have taste. My decorations told a story! Those inflatables aren’t even from the same properties. They’ve got Santa Mickey next to the fucking Grinch! Charlie Brown mingling with Yoda! There’s no plot!”

Jeff’s shoulders slump, forearms coming to rest on the kitchen counter so he’s at eye level with Eddie. “Just look on the bright side. At least they haven’t done one of those obnoxious light shows like that stupid reality show.”

As if Jeff accidentally summoned a demon in the form of Christmas cheer, a burst of red and green floods their apartment. Their once dimly lit kitchen looks like the inside of a club, red and green lights flickering with the occasional white and blue mixed in. The flickers are timed with the beat of another Mariah Carey Christmas song.

This is what hell must look like, Eddie thinks, as he glares at Jeff.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Jeff defends, hands up in surrender.

Eddie can seem him struggling not to laugh and it takes all the energy he can muster not to reach around the counter and playfully punch his shoulder. How can Jeff think this is funny? The flickering lights completely goes against their moody aesthetic! Not to mention it’s a health hazard! There’s no way Gareth is going to be able to come over here — not with the way he’s so sensitive to strobes.

Jesus H. Christ and it’s only November 25th! He has to put up with this for weeks!

“It’s not funny, Jefferson!”

“I mean,” Jeff snorts, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile from growing. “It’s a little funny.”

🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬

The lights have not fucking stopped. Not for one single day. Eddie had hoped his neighbors would have grown tired of the constant strobing and Christmas music by now. But nope. A week and a half and its still going strong.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

“Jeff,” Eddie hisses, lifting the blanket of his makeshift fort enough that he can make eye contact with Jeff. Or at least, try to. Jeff’s perched in their recliner with the biggest pair of sunglasses Eddie’s ever seen. “Please. I can’t take much more of this!”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I might have believed you if you weren’t wearing those ridiculous things,” Eddie snorts. He waits for Jeff to retort but when he doesn’t, he groans and slowly emerges from the safety of his blanket fort. Christ he forgot how bright those damn things are.

Stalking over to their small entryway, Eddie hastily tugs on a pair of boots and reaches for the doorknob.

“What are you doing?” Jeff asks, voice laden with concern.

“Someone has to confront the neighbors!”

He doesn't give him time to respond, yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind him in one fluid movement. It should be a short trip to the neighbor's front door, just a few long strides, but Eddie forgets to account for the fuckton of inflatables cluttering the path. He ducks around Frosty, flipping him off when his stupid wood arms nearly deck his balls, again and forcibly shoves Mickey’s face away from him.

It takes another bit of carefully navigating before he finally reaches the front door adorned with a festive wreath. These people really left no spot undecorated. Eddie doesn’t spare them the decency of a nice, neighborly knock or ring of the doorbell. They’re way past that. Instead, he makes a fist and slams his knuckles into the wood door, and keeps going. Knock. Knock. Knockknockknock.

They probably can’t hear him over the damn music, Eddie thinks, as his knuckle turns redder and redder. Just when he’s about to retreat and face Jeff’s smug wrath, the door opens.

The first thought that passes through Eddie’s mind is oh, he’s hot. The second, more vital thought, comes a moment later. He’s going to kill Jeff. How dare he not disclose how attractive this guy is the minute he met him months ago?

The guy, who Eddie vaguely thinks is named Steve, looks just as surprised to see him as he is. Decked out in an obnoxious Santa-themed apron and green plaid flannel pants, his cheeks are spotted with flour and his hands are stained a faint red color. Judging from the delicious aroma of vanilla and peanut butter wafting into the hallway, Eddie interrupted some very serious baking.

“Oh, you’re not the Instacart shopper,” maybe Steve frowns. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, uh,” Eddie trails off. He’s here for a reason, he knows this, but his mind is blank. Distracted by the smells and the lights and the gorgeous fucking man standing in front of him with hazel eyes so sparkly Eddie’s pretty sure he belongs in a cartoon. “I’m Eddie, your neighbor.”

I’m Eddie, your neighbor?

This cannot be the same brain that creates intricate, plot twist-ridden campaigns that last months. Absolutely not.

“Ah, so you’re Jeff’s roommate! It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Steve.”

“Right, Steve” Eddie nods. He’s not sure why he nods, it’s not a normal thing to do when you meet someone, and yet, he can’t stop nodding. Stop fucking nodding!

“So, uh, what brings you by?” Steve asks, casually leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh, I uh…” The lights. You were coming here to complain about the lights! “I came to tell you, uh… I could smell you baking!” Oh my fucking god. “You know these walls are thin and we, uh, share AC vents or something I think? So the smell was filling our place and it smelled so good I just, uh, had to come over and see what you’re baking?”

If Jeff was here, Eddie’s pretty sure he’d be two seconds away from collapsing in a fit of laughter. Thank god he’s not. As soon as he gets back to his room, he’s going to take a lukewarm shower and try to forget this entire interaction ever happened and then hide from Steve for the rest of his life.

“Oh, I’m making peanut butter cookies.” Steve’s smile is almost as blinding as the twinkling lights and like a moth to a flame, Eddie can’t look away. “One of my students has been having a rough time and they’re their favorite.”

“Damn, maybe if I had a teacher who baked me cookies I would have done better in school.”

Steve laughs, “Tell me about it. Actually, uh, do you want to help? I’m allergic to peanut butter and my best friend is tied up at work. I could really use a taste tester. Make sure they’re edible.”

“Oh, uh…” Eddie glances over his shoulder and takes in the sight of the sea of inflatables staring at him with their beady painted on eyes, squints at the obnoxious flashing lights keeping time to a terrible cover of “Jingle Bell Rock.” Together it’s the reminder he needs as to why he trekked over here in the first place, but when he turns he’s hit with a punch of peanut butter and well… “Not to toot my own horn, but I am a pretty good taste tester.”

“Perfect,” Steve smiles, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Kitchen’s this way.”

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Eddie returns an hour later. Belly full of joy just peanut butter cookies, but also chocolate chip, and gingerbread, and some cinnamon concoction that had him considering a marriage proposal on the spot and a tupperware overflowing with said cookies.

Jeff is still in the living room, sunglasses shielding his eyes, but Eddie knows him well enough to know he’s judging him.

“Don’t say a word,” Eddie sneers, heading straight for the kitchen.

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fan fic #steddie fluff #steddie meet cute #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

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agendabymooner · 5 months

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 !!! 𝐥𝐧𝟒 — 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

☼ PENG TING FROM McLAREN

chapter summary: honey-sue lewis was so much like her brother wroetoshaw but everybody didn’t know how alike they were until lando, a stranger, got her a bouquet she didn’t even know he bought.

OR why talk to lando norris in real life when you can just send an apology through airdrop?

content warning: use of explicit language, written + social media chapter, honey radiates big harry lewis energy (oblivious, wants to go home, can’t pick up social cues), petty lando (my man is just simping leave him alone), mentions sidemen diss track era

note: shoot me an ask about anything! enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

Her second morning in Monaco started when she had dressed up in her comfortable striped shirt and a pair of washed jeans and departed the hotel to head down to the coffee shop nearby.

Monaco was a place of glitz and glamour, indeed, but Hannah-Sue, or Honey, would only move and splurge her money on a flat here because of how close everything was in the principality. She could get pissed on a bar here and still make it home by walking.

She loved it so much. Plus, the locals here were nice! Whereas she could get mugged in the streets of London even if she did nothing but breathe. Then again, she grew up around British people— so being sworn at was just a typical day.

Peace and serenity was what she had expected on her second day. Ever since she saw her mates’ driver friend yesterday at lunch, she hadn’t been able to look anyone in the eyes anymore. She couldn’t even look at her brother without being awkward— Lando’s eyes were always trained on her when she spoke.

She hated that he had to be so stupidly attractive and funny. She hated that he was so friendly. She hated that his stupid good looking face was making her even more socially awkward and conscious.

But as her second morning went on, the thoughts of him had gone away.

She stood from her seat and excused herself, “I’ll check out the streets right now,” she told her brother Harry and their friends. “I quite like the outside.”

“Honey if you smoke I swear to god—“ Harry tried warning his sister.

“I’m not gonna smoke, you ugly donny,” Honey quipped. “I’ve got no cigarettes with me.”

Filly looked at Honey with a concerned expression, “Are you sure you wanna go out by yourself? Can I come along?” She truly appreciated Filly’s presence in this trip, because he was genuinely worried for her. And they’ve only been friends since last year, so for him to care about her like this showed Honey that being friends with people weren’t all that bad. Not when someone could treat her like Filly did.

Honey smiled genuinely and shook her head with insistence, “I’m alright, Fils. I’ll be out quickly. ‘Sides I’m not gonna get robbed here or anythin’.”

“Yeah she right, she’s not in London,” Chunkz piped up with a snort. “Just be quick, yeah, because our food should be out soon.”

Honey had soon walked out of the place and looked around the streets of Monaco, the hustling and bustling city filled with luxury and ambition as her eyes skimmed through the stores. She truly loved the beauty of the principality.

Her attention soon turned towards her left, where she found a person around her age waving with her eyes widened.

“Hello- I- oh my god,” the girl started, “Hi- Honey-Sue, right?” Honey nodded with a puzzled smile as the girl sighed, “Okay good— I’m such a big fan of your music and I uh- you’re here for the race right? I am too! I uh- can I take a selfie with you, perhaps?”

“Oh! Thank you and uh, sure!” Honey nodded and placed her arm around the girl’s shoulder as the fan took a photo of the two of them.

“Thank you!” The fan exclaimed with a grin, “I would’ve had something signed but I got nothing with me right now- and by the way, congratulations on the double platinum and the platinum for Lust for Life! I’m looking forward to your newest albu—“

“Excuse me, what?” Honey looked at the fan with a confused look.

“Oh…” The fan trailed off. “Lust for Life just became a platinum album… did you not check your Twitter?”

“No? I uh—“ Honey stammered, still shell shocked at the news, “I don’t usually— Shit I do need to check my twitter and talk to my manager— alright, lovely chatting with you! Cheers mate! You have a good day!”

Honey dashed inside the restaurant with news to bear.

Why, of all the times she could’ve gotten this news, did she learn that she just reached her platinum record status during her trip to Monaco? When it’s, arguably, the most stressful time for her considering that she was forced to meet new people?

yungfilly posted a story!

Honey-Sue usually wasn’t this stupid. But whenever new people showed kind gestures to her, her social skills and ability to pick up cues would deteriorate dramatically.

Sure she could’ve just stopped rambling for a brief moment, but she couldn’t help it— nice and considerate people just make her short circuit especially if she didn’t know them before.

(Hell, even KSI would get her anything she’d like and she’d still be humbled about his kind gestures. That entire “KSI called her a sket so now she’s making him pay for it— literally” ploy was just a front for JJ’s platonic affection for her. The petty Sidemen diss track days were over yet he doted on her.)

She smiled meekly as she continued to examine the bouquet of paper flowers at hand. She twirled the bouquet around her fingers as she admired it.

“Yeah, we found out that you’ve gotten your platinum for your second album,” Ria continued to speak, but Honey couldn’t stop speaking and stammering.

“Thank you so much,” Honey said once more, “this is quite nice. I- uh, it wouldn’t die on me so that’s something I can keep in my place for forever…? I really absolutely love it.”

“And uh- Lan-“ Max tried to tell Honey but the singer couldn’t help but continue.

“I didn’t really expect this— I have to put this in my suitcase—“ Honey rambled. “Though I’m not sure if I should tuck it into the suitcase because this might flatten— excuse me guys—“

“—He- Lando—“ both Ria and Max tried to speak again but the Guernsey girl was already up on her feet as she began to head for the lift with Harry following suit.

Honey was still rambling to her brother as she asked, “Can you airdrop the photos? I ought to post those in my story.”

“...Lando bought it for you…” Max trailed off, shooting a look at Ria as they sighed in defeat.

It wasn’t even five minutes after when they received a notification from Instagram saying: “honeysue mentioned you in a story.”

They weren’t sure how they’d be able to deal with a sulking Lando. Especially when Honey didn’t learn that the McLaren driver was the one who bought the paper flowers before he headed off to the track for his media day duties.

She could’ve at least read the note he’s written, right?

—

honeysue posted a story!!!

Lando was staring at her.

And she was staring at the pasta on her plate as she refused to look at anyone. Not when the McLaren driver was staring at her with something of a curiosity in his eyes.

Was it curiosity or disappointment? Because he probably was disappointed that she was socially awkward and didn’t know when to listen and understand.

She wanted to apologize for not crediting him for the gift. But the way he looked at her told her not to bother— he probably fucking hated her anyways. He probably thought she was a bitch for that.

Especially after when she realized too late that it was his bouquet that she’d gotten. The message in the card was clear as a day in Monaco.

“Congratulations on your platinum! You’re amazing! Love, LN4 xx”

She ignored the conversations around her as she continued to sip on her second cocktail of the night. Her head felt a little bit light, but she was sober enough to apologize to him. She had to apologize otherwise she’d feel too guilty and embarrassed.

After all— there’s a couple more days of the Monaco weekend. Her brother Harry’s intention was to spend some time around Lando’s peers.

All Honey could do was apologize in hopes that the two of them would part ways.

Meanwhile, Lando Norris stared at the screen of his Twitter as notifications came in from his recent post. It was probably stupid that he acted all petty towards Honey’s obliviousness, but he couldn’t help it.

He really admired her. And he took her obliviousness about the flowers as a sign of rejection.

He couldn’t even find himself to look away from her and he knew he was making her uncomfortable— or so he thought.

And as he stared mindlessly at his screen, a faint sound escaped his phone as a notification popped up.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head.

Honey fidgeted on her seat, her fingers running through her screen as she mindlessly typed away on her phone.

She could’ve just talked to Lando seeing as he sat across the table. But she couldn’t— she was too socially awkward and embarrassed after that whole fiasco.

He accepted the airdrop that she sent a minute or so ago. But he seemed to not have decided to say anything more seeing as he hadn’t approached her like he did a day ago.

She was just about to accept humiliation and defeat until a notification came from her phone.

Yeah. Maybe there’s some room for improvement here.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen

#lando norris imagine #formula one imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #ln4 #lando norris fic #lando norris smau #lando norris au #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #f1 smau #formula one fluff #formula 1 #sidemen fic #sidemen au #🍯 honey honey! ln4 smau

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fiapartridge · 10 months

Text

i can see you | will smith

"what would you do if they never found us out?"

a part of my will smith au!

perreault!sister x will smith

summary: you hated will smith the second you met him, too cocky & way too interested in validation, but a year later, there you were cozying up with him behind closed doors and denying anything related to secret make out seshes and hidden boyfriends because it would be bad if the whole thing got out, right? ... right?

warning(s): swearing

this is before they reveal their relationship to gabe! and before they go to bc together!

New Year's Eve marked the time for new opportunities, new resolutions, new everything, but there you were, kissing your brother’s besy friend in a Harry-Potter-styled closet, trying your hardest not to laugh when his head would bump into the low ceiling.

You’ve been dating Will for three months, and while they’ve been amazing, they’ve also been… quiet. You two weren’t too big on the whole PDA thing, so trying to keep your hands off him in front of your families wasn’t that much of a problem, but the one thing you hated? Not being able to tell your friends about the heated kisses and love-filled whispers between you and Will. It wasn’t like you didn’t have a choice. Will was totally fine with you telling your friends, he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, but the only thing stopping you from spilling all the juicy details to your best friends was the fact that they were the biggest gossipers in Michigan.

Like, last month when they found Sandy Pinelli and Morris Johnson making out underneath the bleachers, it wasn’t long after that the entire school found out, and it was barely a day later when Sandy and Morris called it quits on their secret relationship that somehow spanned for almost a whole year. So telling them about you and Will wasn’t an option, and you most definitely weren’t going to tell your brother, Gabe. You weren’t sure who he would be more mad at: you for stealing his best friend, or Will for macking on his little sister.

So there you were, scrambling out of the tiny closet after hearing your friends scream your name amidst the loud music and chanting coming from the kitchen. You fixed your hair, trying to make it look like you weren’t just stealing secret kisses with your secret boyfriend in a secret tiny closet that made your neck hurt if you turned too fast. Everything was just secret upon secret.

You couldn’t blame Will, though. He wasn’t the only person in the relationship that wanted to keep things under wraps. If Gabe found out, he would go crazy. His best friend dating his other best friend? And it didn’t help that he was the one that heard you rant about Will when you were still hating his guts. You told him about all of the nasty things he did, all of the annoying jokes he cracked, your pure hatred for him. To Gabe, that was just Will being Will. You hating him didn’t change anything between the two boys because Gabe always knew it was lighthearted.

Until that one night when you came home crying after Will completely rejected you, saying that going behind Gabe’s back would be too hard; that the whole thing would just explode right in their faces. You hadn’t told Gabe the real reason, but he suspected that it had something to do with Will, so he told Will that if he ever made you cry again, he’s going through a season full of cross checks.

And Will hated not talking to you– you were his favorite person, the only person (besides Gabe) that really understood him and liked him for him, not because he was some big shot hockey player– so later, he agreed to making this work out.

Your friends smiled when they saw you walking over to them, already noticing the post-kiss glow on you.

“Oh my God, you were with a boy!” your friend, Emily (tall blonde) exclaimed as you reached earshot.

Your flushed cheeks immediately began to heat up and your forehead started to sweat a little. “No, I wasn’t,” you said casually, or at least tried to say casually. You couldn’t lie for shit. You would start talking faster and your voice would raise a couple of octaves. It was so obvious.

“Oh my gosh, you were!” Michaela (tall brunette – they all weirdly looked the same the more you looked at them) shouted as they all squealed in excitement. You haven’t liked a guy since… maybe middle school? Possibly elementary? Sure, you had crushes. Thousands of them, like the guy that held the door open for you at Chipotle, or the guy you saw on the other end of the hallway on that cruise to Alaska, but none of them were serious. They were all hallway crushes. This, you and Will, this was real. And it was fucking terrifying.

“Spill! Who was it?” they interrogated as you spotted Will climbing out of the closet, running his hands through his hair the same way you did. He met up with some of his NTDP friends and right in the middle of that circle was Gabe, giving Will a pat on the back and telling him about some girl he met at the party.

“Earth to Y/N!” your other friend, Dakota (tall redhead – more freckles than the rest of them) waved her hand in front of your face, capturing your attention again. “Who is it?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “No one. I just went to the bathroom.”

“Oh, a steamy makeout sesh in the bathroom. That’s hot,” Emily said, Michaela and Dakota nodding in agreement.

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed, dragging them with you towards the kitchen. On your way, you passed by Will and his friend group. You didn’t have to be a mad scientist to realize that he was looking at you the entire time. Not in a creepy way, but in a, making sure you were okay and still there type of way. He hated that he couldn’t hold you and ask if you were okay, or if you wanted to leave early with him. All he wanted was to let everyone know. He saw all of the eyes on you tonight. You looked fucking gorgeous in the little black dress that Emily begged you to wear. Will hated that he wasn’t the only one that got to see it tonight.

His hand ran up your arm, giving you full body chills as you walked past him, but not without feeling the note that he slipped into your hand. You read it when you made it into the kitchen and the girls were busy grabbing drinks and talking to some of the guys in there.

meet me tonight - will

When the time flashed 11:58, you made the excuse that you had to go to the bathroom upstairs. With knowing smiles on your friends lips, they nodded away, letting you get your secret midnight kiss.

You were at the top of the stairs when you could see Will waiting down the hall for you. His suit a bit wrinkled and his necktie falling out of its knot. He looked too good to be real.

Walking down the hallway, you grabbed his arm, pulling him into the nearest room. Luckily it was empty when you shoved him against the wall, your lips so close to his. He smelled like alcohol and expensive cologne, making you wish you could bottle it up and wear it as a perfume.

“I could see you looking at me,” you smirked.

He didn’t even try to hide it. He knew you were looking, trying to pay attention to what your friends were saying, but ultimately failing when your guys’ eyes would meet and he would mouth something funny, making you laugh a bit, almost getting you caught a couple of times.

What you guys were doing was dangerous. If your friends found out, then everyone would find out. Meaning Gabe would find out. But sometimes being someone is more important than that. Sometimes risks need to be taken, and Will would jump through hoops to be with you.

“Almost took me out with this dress,” he smiled, running his hands up and down your hips.

“Yeah?” you laughed. “Maybe that was the point.”

Somehow, he gets closer to you, your lips grazing, but not yet touching. “New Year’s resolution? We tell everyone.”

You froze. You didn’t know if your mouth just stopped working or if your whole entire heart just stopped beating, but nothing was moving. It took a couple of seconds before you could breathe out a response. “Everyone?”

“Unless you don’t want that," he backtracked so fast you were sure that a ghost had passed through him. "I’m okay with anything you’re comfortable with.”

You loved Will for that. You knew how badly he wanted people to know. Sure, he was the one that had doubts in the first place, but at this point, he didn’t even care anymore. He wanted everyone to know who his girl was. And he was tired of girls flirting with him when you were around – it was annoying.

You smashed your lips against his, your hands reaching up towards his neck and playing with his short blonde hair. You stood on your tippy toes as his hands held you up. Your lips moved together so well as if he was some sort of missing piece in your puzzle. Everything about him was just so… perfect.

You pulled back, his lips chasing after yours as you stifled a little laugh. “New Year,” you smiled. “Let’s tell everyone.”

#perreault!sister x will smith #will smith #will smith hockey #will smith imagine #will smith fic #nhl fan fiction #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #will smith fluff #taylor swift #speak now #i can see you

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