#while having lost everything including themselves

[pettson]

yes i will keep thinking about how joel and tess were two equals equally broken who would never heal each other but still save each other in every other possible way

#there's something about people finding comfort in each other at the end of the world #while having lost everything including themselves #just a shell of their former self #not even fully human anymore but being reminded of what it was like to be human by this one person that gives them a moment's peace #this unspoken love story will keep ruining me again and again #the last of us #tess servopoulos #joel x tess #joel miller

[kittyprincessofcats]

ICJ Ruling

Okay, let's get into this.

First of all, I get the frustration at the court not ordering a ceasefire. I was disappointed and frustrated at first too, since a ceasefire was the biggest and most important preliminary measure South Africa was requesting - and of course we just all want this horror to finally end for the people in Gaza. So I get the frustration and disappointment, I really do.

However, I do think this ruling is still a major win for South Africa, Palestine, and international law as a whole and here's why:

The court acknowledged that it has jurisdiction over this case and completely dismissed Israel's request to throw out the case as a whole. It will now determine at the merits stage (that will probably take years) whether Israel is actually commiting genocide.

The court acknowledged that Palestinians are a "distinct national or ethnic group and therefore deserving of protection under the genocide convention". Pull this out next time someone tells you "there's no such thing as Palestinians, they're all just Arabs".

The court acknowledged very unambiguously that "at least some" of Israel's actions being genocidal in nature is "plausible". South Africa has a case, officially. Israel is accused of genocide, in a way the ICJ deems "plausible", officially. This is huge. (And seriously, how freaking satisfying was it to hear all of those genocidal statements by Israeli politicians read out loud and used as justification for this rulling?)

The court might not have ordered a "ceasefire" in those words, but they did order Israel to "immediately end all genocidal acts" (which includes killing and injuring Palestinians) and submit proof that they actually did. How are they going to comply with this ruling without at least severly reducing or changing what they're doing in Gaza?

In fact, this wording might actually be more appropriate for a genocide (vs a war), as author and journalist Ali Abunimah notes on Twitter:

He's completely right. Israel lost today, by overwhelming majority (I mean, 15 to 2? I heard people predict the rulings would be very close, like 9 judges vs 8, but instead we got 15 to 2 (and even 16 to 1 on the humanitarian aid). Holy shit.) The court disimissed almost everything Israel's side of lawyers said, while acknowledging that South Africa's accusations are "plausible".

And this is important especially because of Mr Abunimah's second tweet there^. Because the question is, where do we go from here?

This ruling means that Israel is officially /possibly/ commiting genocide and that should have huge international consequences. The rest of the world now HAS to take these accusations seriously and stop arming and supporting Israel - and if they won't do it on their own, we, the people, have to make them. This is THE moment to rise up all around the world, especially in the countries most supportive of Israel (the US, the UK, Germany): Protest, call your representatives and demand a ceasefire and an end of arms deliveries to Israel.

We now have a legal case to back our demands: If Israel is, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" commiting genocide, then all of our governments are, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" guiltly of aiding in genocide. And we need to hold that over their heads and demand better. We need to do that right now and in huge numbers. Most politicians only care about themselves and saving their skin. We have to make them realize that they could be accused of aiding in genocide.

(As a German, I'm thinking of Germany here in particular: After South Africa's hearing, our government dismissed their case as having "no basis" - how are they going to keep saying that now that the ICJ officially thinks otherwise? Over the last months, people here have been arrested at protests for calling what's happening in Gaza a genocide. How are the police supposed to legally keep doing that now that the ICJ has officially deemed this accusation "plausible"? I used to be scared to use the word "genocide" at protests or write it on my protest signs - not anymore, have fun trying to arrest me for that when the ICJ literally has my back on this one 🖕🏻.)

So yeah - don't be defeatist about this, don't let Israel's narrative that they "won" (they didn't) take over. This might not be everything we wanted, but it's still a good result. Don't let what the court didn't say ("ceasefire"), distract you from the very important things that they did say. Let this be your motivation to get loud and active, especially if you live in any country that supports Israel. Put pressure on your governments to not be complicit in genocide, you now officially have the highest international court on your side.

#ICJ #ICJ ruling #ICJ hearing #South Africa vs Israel #Free Palestine #Palestine #Palestinian genocide #Gaza #Germany #I get why Palestinians are disappointed and I don't want to devalue those feelings #(but maybe this can give you hope) #But thinking about this as a German this is huge #Most politicians and people here still deny (or at least strongly doubt) that there's a genocide happening #Calling it a genocide is seen as an 'extremist' position #And some of our politicians have been borderline gaslighting us and calling anyone who calls it genocide 'crazy' #So I'm just feeling immense vindication and a newfound fearlessness and motivation to be louder and more active than ever #and I hope others here feel the same #I hope the quiet masses stop being scared to say something now

[wilwheaton]

The GOP wonders why young people (and others) don't want to vote for them. Some wise scribe assembled this list.

1.) Your Reagan-era “trickle-down economics” strategy of tax breaks for billionaires that you continue to employ to this day has widened the gap between rich and poor so much that most of them will never be able to own a home, much less earn a living wage.

2.) You refuse to increase the federal minimum wage, which is still $7.25 an hour (since 2009). Even if it had just kept up with inflation, it would be $27 now. You’re forcing people of all ages but especially young people to work multiple jobs just to afford basic necessities.

3.) You fundamentally oppose and want to kill democracy; have done everything in your power to restrict access to the ballot box, particularly in areas with demographics that tend to vote Democratic (like young people and POC). You staged a fucking coup the last time you lost.

4.) You have abused your disproportionate senate control over the last three decades to pack the courts with religious extremists and idealogues, including SCOTUS—which has rolled back rights for women in ways that do nothing but kill more women and children and expand poverty.

5.) You refuse to enact common sense gun control laws to curb mass shootings like universal background checks and banning assault weapons; subjecting their entire generation to school shootings and drills that are traumatizing in and of themselves. You are owned by the NRA.

6.) You are unequivocally against combatting climate change to the extent that it’s as if you’ve made it your personal mission to ensure they inherit a planet that is beyond the point of no return in terms of remaining habitable for the human race beyond the next few generations.

7.) You oppose all programs that provide assistance to those who need it most. Your governors refused to expand Medicaid even during A PANDEMIC. You are against free school lunches, despite it being the only meal that millions of children can count on to actually receive each day

8.) You are banning books, defunding libraries, barring subject matter, and whitewashing history even more in a fascistic attempt to keep them ignorant of the systemic racism that this nation was literally founded upon and continues to this day in every action your party takes.

9.) You oppose universal healthcare and are still trying to repeal the ACA and rip healthcare from tens of millions of Americans and replace it with nothing. You are against lowering the cost of insulin and prescription drugs that millions need simply to LIVE/FUNCTION in society.

10.) You embrace white nationalists, Neo-Nazis, and other groups that are defined by their intractable racism, xenophobia, bigotry, and intolerance. You conspired with these groups on January 6th to try to overthrow the U.S. government via domestic terrorism that KILLED PEOPLE.

11.) You oppose every bill aimed at making life better for our nation’s youth; from education to extracurricular and financial/nutritional assistance programs. You say you want to “protect the children” while you elect/nominate pedophiles and attack trans youth and drag queens.

12.) You pretend to be offended by “anti-semitism” while literally supporting, electing, and speaking at events organized by Nazis. You pretend to hate “cancel culture” despite the fact that you invented it and it’s basically all you do.

13.) Every word you utter is a lie. You are the party of treason, hypocrisy, crime, and authoritarianism. You want to entrench rule by your aging minority because you know that you have nothing to offer young voters and they will never support you for all these reasons and more.

14.) You’re so hostile to even the notion of helping us overcome the mountain of debt that millions of us are forced to take on just to pay for our post K-12 education that you are suing to try to prevent a small fraction of us from getting even $10,000 in loan forgiveness.

15.) You opened the floodgates of money into politics via Citizens United; allowing our entire system of government to become a cesspool of corruption, crime, and greed. You are supposed to represent the American people whose taxes pay your salary but instead cater to rich donors.

16.) You respond to elected representatives standing in solidarity with their constituents to protest the ONGOING SLAUGHTER of children in schools via shootings by EXPELLING THEM FROM OFFICE & respond to your lack of popularity among young people by trying to raise the voting age.

17.) You impeach Democratic presidents over lying about a BJ but refuse to impeach (then vote twice to acquit) a guy whose entire “administration” was an international crime syndicate being run out of the WH who incited an insurrection to have you killed.

18.) You steal Supreme Court seats from democrats to prevent the only black POTUS we’ve ever had from appointing one and invent fake precedents that you later ignore all to take fundamental rights from Americans; and even your “legitimate” appointments consist of people like THIS (sub-thread refuting CJ Roberts criticisms of people attacking SCOTUS' legitimacy).

19.) You support mass incarceration even for innocuous offenses or execution by cop for POC while doing nothing but protect rich white criminals who engage in such things as tax fraud, money laundering, sex trafficking, rape/sexual assault, falsifying business records, etc.

20.) You are the reason we can’t pass:—Universal background checks—An assault weapons ban—The ‘For the People/Freedom to vote’ Act or John Lewis Voting Rights Act—The ERA & Equality Act—The Climate Action Now Act—The (Stopping) Violence Against Women Act—SCOTUS expansion.

21.) You do not seek office to govern, represent, or serve the American people. You seek power solely for its own sake so you can impose your narrow-minded puritanical will on others at the expense of their most fundamental rights and freedoms like voting and bodily autonomy.

22.) Ok, last one. You are trying to eliminate social security and Medicare that tens of millions of our parents rely on and paid into their entire lives. And you did everything to maximize preventable deaths from COVID leaving millions of us in mourning.

Source: https://imgur.com/gallery/e8DBZLH

#republicans are garbage #uspol

[vanteguccir]

Lovestruck boy | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Nick and Chris are trying to record wednesday's video, but Matt's lovestruck gaze keeps going to Y/N, distracting himself.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, from anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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"Matt! Hellooo, is anyone there?" Nick spoke from behind the camera while moving his arms around exasperatedly, looking at his brother, who had his eyes focused on the couch in the back of the room.

Matt is the kind of guy that when he loves, he loves hard.

So to say that Matt was crazy about Y/N was an understatement, all that was on his mind day and night was his girlfriend; His days were happier with her by his side, he felt like he had more energy and strength to do anything, only because of her.

His favorite thing in the world was seeing her happy, so his heart warmed every time he heard her talking about the books she was reading with so much passion and affection - so much so that he lost count of how many times he took her to the bookstore and bought more than 100 dollars in books, just to be able to hear her talk about the characters that Matt never memorized the names of and the story that always made she speak too quickly and with so much devotion.

Whenever Matt was with his brothers or friends, he would mention his girl. It was automatic, everything reminded him of her. He was obsessed. With all that said, it was inevitable that, being in the same room, the boy wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her.

The theme of that Wednesday's video was something suggested by Y/N herself, as just a few minutes ago the four of them were lying on the sofa in the living room, the girl with her feet on Matt's lap while starting a new book, while the brothers watched old videos of themselves on television.

His hands caressed the tops of her feet covered in fluffy Iron Man socks, which she had probably stolen from his side of the drawer. Every now and then Matt's right hand would go up her legs to Y/N's left hand, taking it away from the book and to his mouth, sealing the warm, soft skin with love, keeping his eyes on the TV screen.

A smile grew on Matt's face every time his brothers made vomiting sounds, calling them disgusting. While Y/N felt like her cheeks could explode from how red they became.

Matt's teenage voice coming from the videos made Y/N's heart warm, and seeing the silly smiles on the triplets' faces as they traveled through the land of nostalgia made an idea pop into the girl's head, who instantly put down the book and paused the video, catching the attention of them.

And this takes us to the current moment, after Y/N has separated some pictures from when they were children, teenagers or nowadays on Nick's phone, having created an album to be used in that specific video.

Matt and Chris were sitting at the kitchen table, facing the camera, Nick - who was standing behind it with the album open on his phone -, and consequently also facing the sofa, where Y/N was sitting comfortably as she flipped through her book, a smile appearing every now and then on her face as her expressions changed according to the events in the story.

A cup of cappuccino that Matt made for her rested on her legs, keeping her warm, while her right hand came out of the book every now and then and picked up the drink, taking a sip.

It was the third time that Nick caught Matt's attention, who seemed to get lost in his girlfriend's figure, and all external sounds, including his brothers' voices, became muffled.

To disguise it, the boy would randomly guess the name of one of his brothers or himself when Nick showed a small part of a picture, getting it wrong almost every time. This led to him having the lowest score.

"What? Yes, that's Chris." Matt blinked his eyes quickly, looking away from Y/N and to the phone in Nick's hands.

"Matt, it's you!" Nick exclaimed, rolling his eyes and sighing, he knew the video would continue like this if he didn't get Y/N out of the room, but his best friend looked too comfortable on the couch.

"Pay attention, dumbass." Chris slammed the palm of his left hand against Matt's forehead, earning a slap back on the arm.

Y/N lifted her head from the book momentarily, holding back a laugh as she saw the brothers fighting, rolling her eyes playfully before returning her attention to the story, adjusting her position on the couch.

"I'm sorry, I'll pay attention. I promise." Matt raised his hands in surrender, swallowing hard as he glanced briefly at Y/N and saw her laughing softly, returning his eyes to his older brother and forcing himself to keep them there.

"For those of you who aren't understanding, Y/N is sitting on the couch reading, and Matt can't stop looking at her. He's obsessed, I swear." Nick muttered behind the camera, shaking his head even though they couldn't see him.

When the first round ended, Chris got up and took Nick's place behind the camera, agreeing to be the next to show the pictures and be the jury.

Nick handed him the phone and sat down next to Matt, looking briefly at the couch and closing his lips in a thin line at Y/N's wide eyes at the book, probably surprised by some absurd scene.

The oldest looked at Matt, seeing that his brother was already looking at Y/N, too. Their eyes quickly met when Matt felt Nick looking at him, a laugh escaping both of their mouths.

"Are you ready?" Chris asked after choosing the first picture he would use, receiving a nod from the two brothers, who had both arms on the table so they could reach the "button" faster.

The youngest zoomed in on the pic and turned the screen towards the two, waiting for one of them to get it right.

Matt had never moved so fast, his left hand slamming against the post-it too hard as his eyes were wide in euphoria.

"It's me! Look at Y/N's hand there." Matt shouted in excitement, raising his right hand and pointing at the phone behind the camera.

"Yeah, that's Matt." Nick sighed, knowing that even though he got it right too, Matt spoke first. "You only got it right because Y/N is in the picture!"

"Obviously, he knows Y/N's traits more than he knows his own." Chris scoffed from behind the camera, zooming out of the image and looking for the next one.

The picture in question was from a day when the four of them went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant about a year ago, Nick and Chris were sitting on one side of the table and Y/N and Matt on the other. Matt had his elbows resting on the wooden table and his hands crossed, laughter escaping his lips when he heard something Chris said, while Y/N joined him in laughing, her hands crossed around his right bicep and her head resting on his covered shoulder.

The pic was taken by Nick, being the passionate photographer that he was, and Chris felt a smile stretch across his face as he remembered the moment.

Even though they made fun of their brother so much for being a crazy in love for Y/N, they felt their chest fill with joy for their brother every time they saw them together. They knew that their brother had found his other half, and seeing him as happy as ever made them just as happy.

"I know, he's obsessed with her." Nick commented again, receiving a slap on the back of his head, letting out a laugh when he saw Matt roll his eyes, but don't deny anything.

The girl looked up again when she heard her name being said by one of the boys and her person being mentioned more than once. Her eyes met Matt's blue ones, who looked at her with love and affection, an easy smile appearing on his face almost automatically.

Y/N smiled back, blowing a kiss, which the boy pretended to catch with his left hand and keep in the pocket of his hoodie.

When the round changed again, it was Matt's turn to stand behind the camera and choose the pictures.

The boy got up from his seat, fixing his pants and walking over to where Chris was, taking the phone from his hand and closing the last picture chosen by the youngest.

His thumb scrolled across the screen, looking for the first one he would use as he let his brothers settle down.

A smile stretched across Matt's face as he passed by a picture of Nick and Y/N, where they were both wearing sunglasses, with feathers around their necks and making faces at the camera. Nick had his left hand raised showing a peace sign, and it was there that Matt decided to zoom in, but not before lingering his eyes for a few seconds on the full image, admiring his girlfriend there.

Matt took advantage of the fact that his brothers were in a silly argument and turned around momentarily, looking at his girl, who was now in a position that in his head was probably very uncomfortable, but he already knew that for Y/N, the most different positions were the best.

The girl felt eyes on her and looked up, seeing Matt standing there admiring her. A reddish color took over her cheeks, and her fingers played with the pages of the book, trying to hide her shyness.

Matt nodded briefly at the book as if asking her how the story was going. Y/N smiled at the action, making a chief kiss gesture with her right hand while her left held the book open, afraid of losing the page she stopped at.

"I want to hear all abo-" Matt began in a low voice, just for Y/N to hear, but his sentence was cut by a hand hitting the table.

"I'm going to get Y/N out of the room if you don't turn around now and do your job." Nick said, crossing his arms. Chris held back his laughter beside him, his face turning red from the force he exerted in the action.

"You're so unnecessary." Matt rolled his eyes, throwing a wink at Y/N, who had a goofy smile, before turning to face his brothers again.

"No, you are." Nick responded, opening his mouth to argue against Matt again, only to be stopped by Chris, who smacked his left arm while laughing.

"Go ahead, Matt." The youngest asked, straightening up and clearing his throat, looking at his brother as he waited for the first picture.

Nick sent a bored look to Y/N, who was still watching them intently. The girl laughed softly, turning her attention back to the book as she felt her heart warm.

Y/N felt so grateful for her boyfriend and his brothers, who she saw as family. She would never forget the day Nick thanked her for how happy she made his brother, but little did he know, it was Matt who made her the happiest.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"Matt looking behind the camera every 2 minutes with a lovestruck look on his face was the cutest thing I've ever seen 😔"

"Matt being able to guess the picture that had Y/N in it just because of her 😭"

"I love how Nick and Chris make fun of Matt for his love for Y/N all the time"

~ "deep down, they love them together more than the couple itself lol"

"I want to have a boyfriend who is as obsessed with me as Matt is with Y/N ​​🧎‍♀️"

"Y/N is a total bookworm, and I'm here for it!"

~ "petition for her to make tiktoks about the books she reads ✏️📄"

"it's incredible to see the difference between Matt before Y/N and Matt during Y/N. She's so good for him 🥺"

"Matt smiles so much when Y/N is near 😫"

"Matt and Y/N >>>>>>> any other famous couple"

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

#x reader #chris sturniolo #fanfic #matt sturniolo #fanfiction #love #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x yn #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt au #matt fanfic #matt #oneshot #fic #fluff #bookworm #request #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #obsessed man

[burnedwriter]

living with Alhaitham and kaveh.

A/n:sorry for taking so long college work has started to pile up and i got caught up with it.

warnings:threesome,exhibitionism,bj,rough fucking,overall smut

sfw

🌱🏛suprisingly they are good roommates to live with when they arent fighting like an old married couple atleast.

🌱🏛Reminding kaveh that hes late for his classes,upon saying that his expression of pure shock and stress never stops making you laugh,as he hastily grabs his stuff that are scattered aroumd the house

🌱🏛kaveh is on the category of the messy roommate that leaves his architecture project papers all over the house and then doesnt remember where he has put them and thinks that he losts them,while Alhaitham is a cleanfreak and has everything where it should be and in order.

🌱🏛there isnt a week that hasnt passed by that you and kaveh havent  messed in some way with alhaitham.From making his items ‘’disappear’’ and convicing him that they were never there to begin with and hearing alhaitham say ‘’it was there a couple of minutes ago,i remember where i put it’’ to placing drawing on random pages on his books,you can always hear a small breathy laugh come out every time he sees one.

nsfw

🌱🏛kaveh has made some sex related furneture hidden deep in the house and away from the usual one,that you all have used more than once,alhaitham might midly dislike kaveh but he has to admit that kaveh is for sure creative and dirty minded.

🌱🏛threesomes?roommates with benefits the answer is yes.

🌱🏛kaveh challenged alhaitham on who is better at fucking you and with that the war began andthe winner was alhaitham without a doubt,since he started to get creative with the position and the places you two did it.

🌱🏛starting with One time alhaitham fucked you against one of the windows,the lighting at the perfect angle so kaveh could see you both from afar  while he was coming back to the house.Upon seeing that kaveh was pissed off that he was left out and adding more gasoline to the fire

🌱🏛and in return kaveh fucked you against the couch minutes before alhaitham was going to come home just so you could get caught by him,kaveh smiled hearing the sound of keys unlocking the door.there have been multiple times you have had a threesome and tonight was one of those days.......

🌱🏛Sadwiched between the two men,with  kaveh filling your mouth with his cock while alhaitham  pounded into you from behind ,mercilesly rolling his hips.Strong arms holding your hips in place to keep you in place.

‘‘you look so beautiful with my cock wrapped around your lips dear’‘kaveh teased a hand placed in you hair brushing them off of your face,reaveling lustful eyes looking up at him.

kaveh jerked his hips hitting the back of your throat over and over again,gagging sounds filling the room as well as groans and moans from the men.

‘‘i dont think our pet can say a lot right now’‘you hear alhaitham say his thrusts never slowing done but becoming more sloppy,the knot in your stomach starting to grow stronger and stronger with each thrust alhaitham did pushed you closer to the finish line.

feeling kaveh throb in your mouth as well as alhaitham twitching inside you indicating they are close themselves to their orgasm and with one last stroke both men reached their climax including you with alhaitham filling you up to the brim with his seed and with kaveh releasing inside your mouth,you could feel the warm sticky liquid coming down your throat as you swallowed.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x you #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader smut #kaveh x reader #kaveh smut #kaveh x you #kaveh imagines #genshin impact headcanons #alhaitham headcanons

[honnelander]

OK SO I HAVE THIS IDEA IN MY HEAD AND I HAVE TO TELL YOU, I can't stop laughing imagining that scenario xdxdxdxdxd

Well, then imagine go fish! Sanji takes (Y/N) to meet Zeff and Zeff being the good father he is, "accidentally" spoils the tea in front of everyone because he is so done with the drama around.  😂 😂 😂 😂

UMMM OK I LOVE THISSS!! this technically won't be go fish!Sanji BUT my interpretation of Sanji will pretty much always be like that.

here's Zeff "accidentally" spilling the beans about Sanji's affections for reader: (i can't believe this blew up to like 3k words rip)

masterlist

Zeff wasn't stupid.

He's been around the block a couple of times in his life and when Sanji's semi-regular letters to him had shifted from casual life updates and started to be more and more about details and little interactions he had with you, some girl Zeff had never met before, well, it was easy for the head chef to put two and two together: Sanji was in love.

And he was in love with you.

Now, while Sanji might not technically be his son by birthright, there was no way he didn't consider Sanji to be his own living and breathing kin, especially after everything they've been through together, 'pedigree' rules be damned.

Zeff truly loved that boy. Throughout their time together, he had raised Sanji from being a snotty-nosed brat into the respectable man that he was today and, in Zeff's mind, part of being a respectable man included knowing how to treat a woman properly.

Ever since he was a young boy, Zeff could see that Sanji took a special liking towards girls and then young women. The retired captain had lost count of the number of times he had to berate Sanji into getting back to work and to leave the wooing for after dinner service and his own personal time, but the scoldings never stuck. Sanji would always be Sanji, and that meant the lad had an endless wandering eye and a sharp silver tongue, no matter what.

To say that Zeff was sad to see Sanji go with Luffy that day was an understatement, he was devastated, but he knew, ever since he had held a knife to his throat during their first encounter, that Sanji was meant for bigger things. For things bigger than cooking up the same old dinner specials every night and breaking up drunk pirate fights on the regular. Sanji was bigger than the Baratie, so when Luffy had made his infamous offer to his pseudo-son, a part of Zeff was relieved because that meant that Sanji could finally start living the life he was always meant to live, and that was one of a pirate.

Zeff had also made peace with the very real fact that he might never see or hear from Sanji again. He (and Sanji) knew all too well how quickly something could go from bad to worse to life-threatening in an instant out on the open ocean, and if Luffy was truly determined to find the one piece and have Sanji join his crew, then Zeff knew that seeing him off that day was probably the last time he would ever see his son alive.

So, imagine his surprise when he received his first letter from him.

At first, he thought it was a joke, that one of the line cooks in the kitchen was pulling a cruel prank on him by writing him a fake letter in Sanji's unmistakable handwriting, but when he finally ripped open the envelope and found out that yes, Sanji did, in fact, write him a letter, well... it had actually brought a tear to his eye.

From that point forward, Zeff found himself eagerly awaiting Sanji's letters. He loved to hear all about the outlandish adventures that crew seemed to always find themselves in and it made Zeff nostalgic for his days at sea. There was never any return address, since the crew was constantly on the move, and Zeff expected as such, so he could never send a reply but that didn't mean he wasn't grateful for each and every letter he received.

Zeff should've realized that something was up though when Sanji had first mentioned you in one of his letters. Sanji's letters would come every couple of months and they, surprisingly, never mentioned any young lass or any other pretty girl he would meet during an island visit unless it was a woman they had ended up fighting.

So, when Sanji had first mentioned you to him, saying how you were the newest straw hat to join the crew, Zeff had thought it was just business as usual. However, what wasn't 'just business as usual' was when the rest of the letter had turned into a little biography about you; where you were from, how old you were, what your home life was like, that you had also agreed that 'oregano was for savages', etc., and the letter ended up being nearly ten pages long.

Then, after your 'introduction' in Sanji's letters to him, you were practically the subject of them all going forward, each one getting longer than the last. Gone were the letters detailing Sanji's adventures, and in came the letters describing the interactions you two had or what topics had come up in your conversations with each other.

At first, Zeff thought it was just another one of Sanji's infatuations (the boy was a huge flirt after all) but when more and more details were provided, and the letters started becoming longer, it was obvious to Zeff that Sanji was in love with you.

And why didn't Sanji just admit his feelings to you? He had no clue. Maybe it was partially his fault too, since Zeff never remembered having that 'what to do when you truly love a girl' talk with him, but he had hoped that Sanji would eventually be fed up with all the back and forth between the both of you and finally just confess already, but that declaration of "I confessed my love to her and she reciprocated" line never was brought up in any of the letters.

And Zeff was feeling himself go crazy the longer this went on. The 'drama' that was occurring between you both was driving him nuts and he vowed that if he ever saw Sanji and the rest of the straw hat crew at the Baratie again, that he would confess Sanji's feelings towards you for him. I mean... someone had to.

Then one day his lucky day came.

"Zeff!" a voice called out from the top of the stairs one afternoon before the day's first dinner service, a voice that Zeff thought he would never hear again. "There you are, you old shitbag!"

Immediately, Zeff stopped talking to the wait staff, turning his body to look up at where he heard the voice come from, his hands on his hips, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing: there was Sanji, a huge smile on his face, standing with practically the same crew that he had waved goodbye to nearly two years ago.

"Oi! Sanji!" Zeff yelled out, his own disbelieving smile lighting up his face. "I never thought I'd see your ugly mug around here again."

Sanji laughed at that as he quickly bounded down the stairs, enveloping him in a bear hug. "That makes two of us!" He pulled back, his blue eyes lighting up in pure happiness as he quickly took Zeff in, patting him on the shoulder as he said, "And look at you, you practically look exactly the same as the day I left you."

As Zeff took in Sanji's appearance, he realized that he couldn't say the same about him. Sanji looked older, not in a bad way, but in a more mature way. He looked like he was growing into the man that he was always meant to be.

And Zeff couldn't have been more proud.

"Well, I can't say the same about you little eggplant. You look like a seasoned pirate to me." Both of them dropped their arms off of each other and Zeff put his hands back on his hips. "You keepin' your feet dry?"

Sanji mirrored his pose, a small laugh escaping his lips as he looked down for a second. "Yeah," he said and looked back up at Zeff, a knowing glint in his blue eyes. "Yeah, I am."

Zeff knew right then that everything with his son was alright. "Good."

"Hey, uh, I wanted to introduce you to someone," Sanji started, looking slightly bashful as he looked back down at the floor and put his hands in his pockets. "She's the-"

"Girl from the letters?" Zeff said with a small knowing smile, finding it endearing how his normally smooth-talking son was suddenly acting about this girl. If he didn't know any better, Sanji looked nervous (and Zeff knew he was).

At his words, Sanji's gaze immediately snapped up to meet Zeff's, his eyes becoming slightly wider, a hint of panic within them, as he quickly looked back towards the rest of his crew that had just started to make their way down the stairs and towards them.

"The newest member of our crew," Sanji emphasized loudly, letting out a fake laugh as he looked back at Zeff pointedly.

"Right," Zeff relented with a small disbelieving laugh of his own. "'Newest crewmember'. Got it."

And when Zeff turned his attention towards the straw hats, he immediately knew it was you before you even introduced yourself. Sure, you were the only new face in the small group of familiar faces, but he had to give credit to Sanji, he had definitely captured your looks and essence in his letters.

Zeff's smile widened. You were cute. From just by looking at you, he could tell you were a sweet and kind soul, it was no wonder Sanji loved you. You definitely looked like the type of person who would do all those things that Sanji had spoken about in his letters and he immediately approved of you. If Sanji had stood there and introduced you as his wife instead of 'his newest crewmember', he wouldn't have had any objections to that at all.

"Zeff, this is y/n," Sanji started, gesturing a hand out to you, Zeff noticing the way his son's eyes softened just by looking at you. "And, uh, you already know everyone else."

Zeff looked away from Sanji and down at you, seeing that you already had your hand out to shake his, a nervous smile plastered on your face.

He liked you.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Zeff, sir," you said, shaking his hand. "I've heard so much about you."

Now, even though Sanji had corrected him before about you, it didn't mean Zeff wasn't going to say anything.

"Aw, come on now, the pleasure is all mine little lass," Zeff replied, shaking your smaller hand with his bigger one. "It's nice to finally meet the girl that Sanji raves on about all the time."

From his peripheral, he could see Sanji stiffen.

Your eyes widened, your hand going limp in his as you asked, "Raves on about? Who, me? T-to you?"

Zeff's smile only grew wider and more cheeky. "Oh yeah, all the time," he said casually, as you both dropped hands. He placed his hands on his hips again and nodded towards his son. "You should see just how much of his letters are about you. It's like I get a damn novel every other month about your relationship," he joked.

"Zeff-" Sanji started but Zeff wasn't done.

He was on a roll and nothing was going to stop him. The more he spoke, however, the redder your face became.

"Oh yeah," the head chef continued, "from as much as Sanji talks about the two of you, I thought you two were in a relationship and said 'I love you' to each other already."

After he said that, the room got quiet. You stood there, completely frozen with wide eyes and a flushed face, like a deer in headlights, while Sanji stood as still as a statue. The rest of the straw hats stood quietly behind you three with varying looks of shock and awe on their faces at the display before them.

"Sanji," Luffy said, breaking the awkward silence first. "You love y/n?"

"Luffy!" Nami hissed.

"I knew it!" Usopp loudly and proudly declared, pointing a finger to the sky as he turned and laughed at the rest of the crew. "See, the great captain Usopp always knows the sparks of true love whenever he sees it," he said, hooking his thumbs at the top of his overalls with a grin.

Zoro snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. You wouldn't know what true love looked like even if it smacked you in the face."

"Says the guy who doesn't have a girlfriend," Usopp smugly retorted with a laugh.

Before Zoro could say anything back, Zeff spoke up. "Hey, straw hats," he called, grabbing their attention. "Why don't you lot come into the kitchen and sit at the chef's table? I'll have Patty and the rest of 'em cook you a couple of steaks however you want, on the house. I'll even throw in a couple of beers too."

"I'm in," Zoro said without missing a beat as he started making his way towards the kitchen, not needing to be asked twice.

"Ooo, free beers? Show captain Usopp the way, please," Usopp said, following Zoro through the kitchen doors.

At the mention of meat, Luffy immediately perked up and forgot about the situation before him. "Steaks? Would it be possible to have more than one?"

"Sure," Zeff agreed easily and nodded towards the kitchen. "Eat too many though and I'll have you back on dish duty again to pay your bill."

"Deal," Luffy quickly agreed and followed after his first mate and sharpshooter.

With a shared look, Nami and Zeff started making their way towards the kitchen together, both ignoring you and Sanji.

"How do you like your steak cooked Nami?" Zeff asked conversationally before disappearing behind the kitchen's double doors.

"Medium rare, actually," Nami replied and slipped in after him, leaving you and Sanji all alone in the dining room.

It was quiet for a solid minute, neither one of you moving or making a sound.

"So," you started, clearing your throat and looking over at Sanji. "You, uh... told Zeff about me?"

But Sanji couldn't look at you. In fact, he was looking at everywhere but you. His cheeks were flushed pink and the tips of his ears were red. He looked down at the ground with his hands on his hips.

"Yeah," he said, forcing out a slight laugh that sounded more painful than anything. "I, uh, told him a bit about you. Could you tell?" he asked, a hint of painful and playful sarcasm in his tone.

You couldn't help but laugh at his attempt at a joke. You could feel your heart start to race as you slowly took a couple of steps closer to him. "Yeah, I could tell," you replied playfully. "You really love me, Sanji?" you asked him softly after a beat.

Turning his head to the side, you could see a blush crawl up his neck. It was so cute, you don't think you've ever seen Sanji be this flustered or embarrassed before. "Uh, well," he stammered, "I-I didn't want you to find out like this. I had a plan and everything. But Zeff and his big mouth had to ruin-"

"Sanji," you said simply, cutting him off. "Look at me."

Before obeying your command, Sanji took a deep breath, like he was bracing himself for the inevitable letdown and rejection he was used to receiving from women throughout his life.

When he looked down at you and met your stare, his eyes were filled with apprehension. "Yes?"

You wanted to do nothing in that moment but quelch his fears. "Oh, just come here," you said.

In one swift motion, you grabbed him by his tie and pulled him down into a kiss, capturing his lips with your own. You felt him stiffen in surprise, but once it hit him that you were, indeed, kissing him, he immediately relaxed and put his hands on either side of your face, his fingers entangling themselves into your hair, deepening the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your mouth moving in sync as you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Was this real life?

After a moment, you pulled apart, panting slightly for air. You both looked at each other, faces flushed, neither one of you expecting to share your first kiss in the middle of the empty Baratie dining room.

"I love you too."

The smile that broke out across Sanji's face was brighter than the sun. But before he could say anything, you both could hear Usopp yelling from inside the kitchen.

"Guys! They kissed! See, I told you they would!" He declared loudly before turning away from the small circular window. "Zoro and Nami, you each owe twenty berry! Come on, pay up!" he laughed like a high roller that just won big, making his way back into the kitchen.

At the sound of loud protesting and groaning coming from the kitchen, you giggled, hiding your face in his chest from embarrassment.

"Oh god," you groaned.

"Aw come now, no need to be embarrassed, Madam," Sanji teased. "If they're placing bets on us, might as well give them a show to bet on, yeah?"

When you peeked up at him, you could see a mischievous glint in his eye as he scanned over your pretty face and back down to your lips before looking back into your eyes. His look made your heart skip a beat.

"Sounds like a plan to me," you answered with a small laugh before you pulled him back down to kiss him all over again.

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#sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader #opla!sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #one piece x reader #sanji fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece #one piece live action #opla #black leg sanji x reader #opla!sanji x you

[shybunnie20]

Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

strangers to friends to lovers

★Teasers ★Locations ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie embarks on a new chapter after finally graduating. He expects to face a variety of hurdles that come with a change of scenery, but what he doesn't anticipate is falling head over heels for you.

Author's Note: Holy shit, I can't believe this is finally finished after 11 months. It’s the first time I've written smut in well over a year and I'm pleased with how it turned out (I couldn't have done it without the support of my beloved @eddiethefreakkmunson)

Location photos are linked above and in the fic at their first mentions. AU with no Upside Down, no use of Y/N, focuses on Eddie's POV, fluff and mild angst with a happy ending *wink wink*

Word count: 17.3k

Warnings: MDNI 18+! alcohol consumption/drunken behavior, subtly pervy moments, masturbation, fondling, dry humping, protected p in v, oral (f receiving), a little bit of praise & possessiveness, includes swearing.

Eddie was determined to leave Hawkins for good as soon as he tossed his graduation cap to the sky. He didn’t expect how expensive a venture like that would be, so he devised a plan. For a couple of months, he would stick around to save up a financial cushion.

To pocket every penny possible, Eddie took up odd jobs around town like mowing lawns and painting fences. With every task completed, he army crawled his way toward living life on his terms. He didn’t expect it to take him well over a year to save up enough cash.

On this sweltering afternoon, the atmosphere is charged with the promise of new beginnings. The summer sun peeks out from behind the dense clouds and casts irregular shadows on the dirt road of Forest Hills.

His van is packed to the brim with boxes of his belongings. After mentally checking everything twice over, uncertainty twists Eddie’s stomach into knots. What if I have car trouble? What if I get lost? What if it’s not everything I hoped it would be?

Wayne descends the concrete steps and joins Eddie. He lets out a belly-deep sigh that speaks volumes. You’ll figure it out. You’re gonna find your way. Your best days are ahead of you.

There’s a hint of sadness in seeing his boy take this significant step toward independence. But beneath that sorrow, profound pride prevails within Wayne. Eddie’s dreams reach far beyond the boundaries of Hawkins. Sticking around here won’t do him any good.

Eddie looks at the man who’s been his rock; the one who used to rise before dawn to plate crispy bacon and fluffy pancakes, meeting Eddie’s needs before his own. The memories are vivid as he reflects on the milestones his uncle guided him through. Without a doubt, Eddie wouldn’t be half the man he is today if it weren’t for Wayne.

His beloved van sits atop the very spot where he once wiped out while learning to ride a bike without training wheels. “It’s time to be a big boy,” Wayne said, urging Eddie to muster some faith in himself.

Reluctantly, Eddie mounted his small bicycle and clutched the rubber handles. With a push to set him off, he experienced the fleeting thrill of accomplishment as he pedaled forward. He only made it a few feet before his balance wavered.

The bike wobbled, sending Eddie tumbling to the gravel. His knees and palms bore the brunt of the fall, and the sharp pebbles embedded themselves into his scraped skin.

Wayne isn’t exactly a ‘rub some dirt on it’ kind of guy, but he isn’t the coddling type either. He cleaned Eddie’s wounds, slapped on some bandages, and told him to give it another shot. Faced with his nephew’s tearful protests, Wayne emphasized that just because failure stings, it shouldn't deter him from trying again.

“I guess this is it then.” Eddie wipes beads of sweat from his brow using the back of his hand.

“Yep, looks that way. It sure will be quiet without y’here. I got so used to living with all that racket of yours.”

“It’s called good music. You should take it for a spin sometime, it’s way better than that honky-tonk shit you made me listen to growing up.”

“I like my honky-tonk shit just fine, thank you,” They share a laugh.

Wayne will undoubtedly miss their banter, but it’s their Sundays together that weighs the most on his heart. Occasionally, the summer graces them with a few perfect days—pleasantly sunny with a stirring breeze. That weather maintained an unspoken tradition.

When little Eddie moved in, he was struggling to find his footing and hadn’t spoken much. Wayne took him to a serene lakeside spot where the water gently lapped against the shore.

He cast his line into the water in pursuit of a crappie dinner, and six-year-old Eddie gleefully played with the live bait. Over the years, their dynamic remained largely unchanged. Wayne watched his bobber from the swaying dock while Eddie kicked back in a folding lawn chair. It was simple father-son time that didn’t cost more than an afternoon or two. As of now, those days are over.

“You sure you’re gonna be alright without me, old man?”

Wayne shrugs and shoves his hands into his front pockets. “I suppose I’ll manage one way or another.” 

“Take care of yourself,” Eddie says firmly.

“Will do. Oof-” Wayne chuckles when he’s abruptly hugged. He smooths over the back of Eddie’s head with his calloused palm.

The men hold onto one another, their unspoken sentiments conveyed in the silent embrace. They exchange a pat on the back before parting.

Wayne’s eyes follow his nephew as he closes the rear doors and makes his way toward the front of the van. “Eddie, one last thing. Remember to take your chances while ya got 'em and strike while the iron’s hot. Don’t let nothin’ pass ya by.”

Offering a firm salute, Eddie hops up and settles into the driver’s seat.

With Hawkins in the rearview mirror, Eddie sets off. Chicago may not be the sprawling metropolises of New York or Los Angeles, but it’s a world apart from his hometown.

It’s far enough away to provide a much-needed change of scenery, yet close enough that he can move back home if things go to shit.

The drive goes smoothly overall with a couple of instances of getting turned around. By the time Eddie is finished with the long hours on the road, he’s bone-weary.

His new place may not be the epitome of luxury, but it’s a roof over his head and that’s all that matters. After lugging his things to the fourth floor, Eddie can finally consider himself moved in. His apartment lacks furniture and decor, but it’s a space he can call his own.

The throbbing of an unbearable intensity plagues his thighs, a fiery reminder of the multiple flights of stairs conquered. He collapses onto his twin mattress and emits a low groan. The sound bounces off the bare walls and echoes through the studio apartment.

Eddie starts noticing the difference in sounds around him. Gone are the barking dogs and tires rolling over gravel. His fridge hums like the one in the trailer, which is nice, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out the argument happening in the unit above his.

When the noise finally subsides, he hopes to catch up on some much-needed sleep. But just a few minutes later, the ruckus rekindles. In a bid for tranquility, Eddie clutches his pillow to his ears to block out the animalistic makeup sex seeping through his ceiling.  He’s praying that the man is a two-pump chump because this is a lot for a first night. Hell, it’s too much for any night.

In a matter of days, Eddie has already encountered a series of issues. Whenever he tries to use hot water, his shower head screeches like a banshee. And the upstairs neighbors? They wear bricks for shoes and have a hoedown at 2 a.m. on a nightly basis; that is, if they’re not at each other’s throats.

Job hunting has been fruitless. The gas stations, car washes, and tobacco shops turned him down for the same reason: no documented experience. This means that he’s going to be stuck with the makeshift bed frame he came with for a while, which is just wooden planks zip-tied together. He’s not sure how long it’ll be able to withstand his tossing and turning.

There’s good news, though. Eddie refused to succumb to defeat. Today, he strolled past a tattoo parlor and impulsively checked it out. When he approached the counter, Eddie was met by an imposing man with a rather unwelcoming demeanor. In spite of feeling a bit intimidated, he greeted the man warmly.

As expected, the shop owner Cliff, did not reciprocate. When Eddie inquired about job openings, Cliff promptly replied with a curt “no.” Eddie’s tone grew desperate and he nearly pleaded. Cliff became irritated and offered a non-existent custodial position just to get Eddie to shut up and leave.

Currently sprawled on the rickety mattress, Eddie holds Mr. Pickles in the air and looks up at him. His trusty plushie is a bit worse for wear, having had his seams sutured with crimson battle vest thread.

“We’re doing it, buddy. We’re finally doing it.”

Shortly after moving in with his uncle, he had trouble falling asleep in the unfamiliar trailer. Wayne, hoping to provide comfort, gifted Eddie the stuffed bunny. It swiftly became a treasured part of his life, symbolizing safety and support—two things he hadn’t received much of up to that point.

The floppy-eared companion got its name from Wayne’s favorite snack. Whenever his uncle would pop the lid on a fresh jar of pickles, young Eddie would erupt into a fit of laughter. He insisted that Wayne was going to transform into a pickle due to how fast he blows through a jar.

In his twenties now, Eddie still cuddles with Mr. Pickles every night. If his pal could talk, he’d tell him how proud he is. Eddie rolls onto his side and nuzzles the bunny’s worn fur. That smile lingers on his face while he drifts off to sleep, now with a sense of hope for the days ahead.

The time has come. Eddie has worn through his entire wardrobe and needs to make a trip to the laundromat. Having a washer in the trailer was something he didn’t fully appreciate until now.

Taking a quick look around his apartment, Eddie spots a cardboard box that’ll suffice in lieu of a laundry basket. He fills the box with the scattered clothes from the floor, slips on his sneakers, and makes his way out onto the street.

Nestled in the heart of his neighborhood, Eddie arrives at his destination. The air carries an overwhelming fresh scent of detergent. It’s not bustling by any means; there are only a handful of people here.

Compared to those who are well-versed in their routine, Eddie feels out of place. He chooses an available machine and plops his box of dirty clothes on the counter behind him. He inspects the front-loading washer, not versed in its functions and operation. Eddie goes to open the machine’s door but it refuses to yield.

His patience wanes with each futile tug. Just as frustration peaks, a sudden realization dawns on him, prompting a blush to sweep across his cheeks. There’s a lock hidden on the flip side of the handle.

With the press of his thumb, the lock disengages and the door screeches open. Hot under the collar, Eddie hastily scoops up his clothes and stuffs them into the damp drum. He slams the door shut with a mechanical click, the sound signaling the lock relatching. 

This place lacks helpful signage, to say the least. The only one here displays the cost of running a cycle, but there’s nothing to guide newcomers through the process.

Eddie pulls out his wallet to retrieve a few quarters. After inserting them, he figures out the detergent tray without much trouble. But as Eddie presses the START button repeatedly, increasing his force with each press, the machine stubbornly refuses to respond.

“You have to choose a setting.”

Eddie jumps at the sound of your voice, his brows arched and mouth hanging open. “Huh?”

You walk over from the adjacent wall of driers a few feet away. “It won’t start unless you select a wash setting first.”

He looks at you like a deer-in-the-headlights, so you step in and set the machine to delicate for him. The washer springs to life and water begins to fill the drum.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Eddie says while rubbing the back of his neck. “These are so different from the one I had back home.”

“Where’s home?” You ask, resuming your task of folding your clean laundry on the nearby counter.

Eddie is visibly taken aback by your continued engagement. “A town in Indiana that you’ve definitely never heard of,” He starts to fidget with the detergent jug’s cap, though it’s already sealed.

Suddenly, Eddie feels self-conscious about his appearance. Talking to a cute girl wasn’t on the agenda today, he didn’t dress for this. He regrets choosing function over fashion; his denim shorts are an old pair of Wayne’s jeans that he cropped to wear while mowing lawns. The raw hems are messily frayed and the light blue is darkened with grass stains.

“Indiana, huh? You’re a ways from home then. What brings you to The Windy City?”

Eddie’s attention lands on your pile of clothes, subtly assessing your wardrobe choices. “Uh- just needed a change of pace, I guess.”

“Chasing the dream, right? Figured Chicago had more to offer?” You peek at him, catching his stare fixed on a pair of underwear at the top of the pile—a standard white cotton panty, nothing worth ogling.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, his posture stiffening when you make eye contact. He swallows hard, averts his gaze, and shifts his weight between the balls of his feet. “Something like that.”

“Did you bring your band with you?” You take the undergarment in question and fold it, seemingly unfazed.

As you move the folded pile into your laundry basket, his clothes start thumping inside the machine, causing suds to splash against the glass window. 

Eddie’s brows knit together. “How’d you know I have a band?”

“You’ve got the look,” You remark as your eyes travel over him.

He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. “Is that so? Do enlighten me, what’s the dead giveaway?”

“Your hair,” You suggest charmingly.

Eddie swishes his brunette curls like a lady in a shampoo commercial. “Too predictable?” 

“I’d say it’s on brand. Let me guess, Slayer? Maybe a little Dio or Megadeth?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at you before looking down at his shoes. “Jesus Christ, you’re reading me like a goddamn book.”

You cock your head to the side, playfulness tugging at your lips. “And if I were to look for this book in a store, what name might I find it under?”

“Eddie,” He lets his arms fall to his sides. When you tell him your name, it bounces around in his head. How pretty, he thinks.

After lifting your full laundry basket, you step away from the counter. “Good luck with the dryers. Oh, and just a heads up, those doors lock too. Don’t go yankin’ the handle off unless you’re looking to take home a souvenir,” You giggle to yourself as you walk out of the laundromat.

Eddie’s mouth hangs open while he watches you leave. Once you’re gone, his attention drifts to the nearby bulletin board. Among the various flyers, one advertises an open mic night. He decides that he’ll check it out sometime this week.

At Double Barrel Bar, Eddie is swallowed by a sea of mainstream nonconformity. The bar-goers are dressed similarly to him, and while the crowd is mostly younger people, they’re still a touch older than him. 

A symphony of clinking glasses and animated chatter collides with the thunderous live metal music. The dense haze of tobacco smoke and the distant clatter of pool balls only enrich the ambiance. The walls are adorned with framed music memorabilia and band posters, a mix of global icons and local talents.

Eddie is enveloped with nostalgia. This place reminds him of the gigs he used to play with Corroded Coffin, although they never played for an audience this size. Staring at the stage, he questions whether he could engage such a crowd and persuade them that he’s worth listening to.

Between two other men at the bar, Eddie takes a seat.

Lee, the bartender, greets him. “What can I get ya?”

Eddie shrugs and hooks his sneakers beneath the rung of the stool. “I'll take a cold one, whatever's cheapest.”

“You got it. Bottle or tap?” Lee wipes his hands on the white rag draped over his shoulder.

“Bottle is fine.”

Lee retrieves a bottle of beer and deftly pops the cap before sliding it over to Eddie.

His fingers curl around the icy glass, the condensation cool to the touch. Eddie’s plump lips wrap around the bottle’s rim and he takes his first sip. The crisp liquid trickles down his throat, offering a short-lived remedy for the stuffiness of the room. 

As Lee tends to another patron, Eddie fidgets in his seat, causing the flier in his back pocket to crinkle. “So, you host an open mic?”

“Yeah, Thursday through Sunday. Are you any good?” Lee asks.

Eddie flips his guitar pick necklace between his fingers. “I like to think so. I guess you’d have to ask the ants in my kitchen, they’re the closest thing I've had to an audience lately.”

Lee snorts. “I've got a good feeling about you, I’m gonna reserve a spot.”

“Oh, uh- you don't have to do that.”

Lee waves his hand in dismissal and gathers the abandoned glassware from the now-empty seat beside Eddie. “No pressure, just swing by on Thursday if you’re interested.”

The opportunity intrigues Eddie, but performing alone is uncharted territory. Contemplating the offer, Eddie grapples with a cloud of self-doubt looming over his decision.

It’s been two months, and his routine is now established. Each day brings progress and a sense of reward, even though there have been occasional hiccups along the way.

Surviving the sweltering summer with a broken AC was sheer hell. He found himself spending ample time nude in his apartment or standing in front of the open freezer compartment of the refrigerator; sometimes simultaneously. Fortunately, September has arrived, and the temperature has begun to wind down.

Managing expenses requires a frugal approach, given the modest pay from his custodial job. Eddie resorts to taking power showers and using candles to keep his utility bill low.

Sometimes he forgoes meals to keep an extra couple of bucks on hand. But when he does eat, he opts for saltine crackers slathered in butter, bologna sandwiches, canned soups, and plain noodles. Occasionally he treats himself to store-bought pasta sauce, though it’s still the saddest spaghetti known to man.

Eddie faces skepticism from the seasoned artists at the tattoo shop, all military veterans who view him as an arrogant kid. Their perception fuels his determination to prove himself. To earn their respect, he’s dedicated to cleaning more thoroughly than he ever has in his life.

He’s become keenly observant, absorbing every detail of the professional tattooing process, despite never being included in those conversations. Within the circle of artists—Ace, Lunchbox, and Dozer—Eddie gravitates toward Ace, who becomes a mentor. Seeing Eddie’s genuine enthusiasm, Ace asks about his drawing abilities. 

Although Eddie’s sketchbook is brimming with fantastical creatures, Ace can recognize a young man’s raw ambition and desire for direction and purpose. He takes Eddie under his wing, allowing him to learn the medium while on the clock.

After taking Lee up on his offer, Eddie found himself on stage every Thursday night. His performances were rusty, as he hadn’t played in front of anyone since before he was working his ass off to get here.

As he strummed through the jitters, Eddie rediscovered the sanctuary that music had always offered. It felt like a part of him had resurrected, reviving the passion he sorely missed.

Playing Thursday nights may not rake in tips like the weekends would, but he’ll take what he can get. Eddie’s been saving up for some pre-owned furniture, and he’s happy to snag any extra cash he can for it.

Life is good right now. The worry about moving back home has lessened, and he’s genuinely amazed at how smoothly things are going. Just when Eddie thought things couldn’t get any better, a Saturday night slot opened up at the bar.

It would be twice as busy, packed from wall to wall with people who could bare witness to him fucking up. Doubt crept its way in, but when Lee mentioned that Eddie could pocket thirty-five bucks or more by the night’s end, it was a no-brainer.

Tonight marks his debut Saturday gig. Stepping through the red brick archway and out onto the stage, the creak of the rustic boards beneath his feet sends a ripple up his legs. Eddie hasn’t even made it to the mic and he’s already forgotten what foot he’s supposed to be stepping with next.

Beneath his t-shirt, his back grows slick. A lump lodges itself in Eddie’s throat, causing his voice to crack when he introduces himself to the room. Amidst the overlapping conversations and the flushing from the nearby restroom, the amassed noise seems muffled. The strong winds in his head distort the sounds, whirling like a twister.

Eddie hooks his guitar up to the amp and forces himself to take a deep breath. As he tunes his instrument, the upheaval begins to settle. Gradually, Eddie finds unity with his guitar and concentrates on perfecting the tone.

Throughout the performance, there’s a persistent undertow of nerves refusing to fully subside. In spite of his efforts to lose himself in the music, his fingers occasionally falter as they dance on the strings.

At the end of his set, Lee can be heard whooping and hollering over the sparse clapping. With a sense of relief, Eddie packs up and makes a beeline for the bar, eager to ease the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Normally, the rush is akin to a high, but this time around it’s so intense that he’s dying to dial it back a notch.

He splurges and orders something a bit fancier than his usual bland beer. Why not celebrate a little? Eddie claims a recently vacated table in the bustling crowd, seating himself on the leather stool adorned with studs. His eyes roam the room while he takes a swig of his drink, savoring the superior crisp taste.

His attention zeroes in on a figure just feet away, a quick recognition igniting in his mind. Eddie recognizes you instantly, due to the scarcity of memorable encounters he’s had.

Eddie observes from afar, observing your mannerisms as you execute your waitressing duties. You must only work weekends, which would explain why your paths haven’t crossed again until now. When your eyes meet his, a shock shoots through his body.

He sits in rapt anticipation as you make your way over. Time seems to stretch unbearably from your previous spot until you finally stand opposite of him, separated only by the circular wooden table.

A courteous smile graces your face—a skill that waitresses must master if they want to pay rent. “Ready for another?”

Eddie stares back at you. His eyes drift down to the almost full beer bottle in his hand. The cogs in his skull are scraping, unable to put the words you’ve said to him in a comprehensive order. He nods without making a peep.

You pivot to leave, but then turn back to him and lift a brow at his unaltered dumbstruck expression. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you don’t look it.”

He remains silent and shakes his head sheepishly, feeling foolish for agreeing to another beer and then changing his mind just because you asked again. Is there more dignity in being indecisive than a bumbling mess?

“You were just singing up there for nearly an hour,” you call him out, folding your arms and tucking your serving tray against your side. “I know you can talk.”

Eddie clears his throat, but he ends up making an odd sound. “Uh, my throat’s a bit sore, that’s all.”

“Did you forget to do your vocal warm-ups or what?”

“It probably sounded like I did,” Eddie laughs, the self-deprecation evident.

“Not at all, I thought you were great.”

“You did?” Eddie’s lips curl at your compliment. Heat blooms on his cheeks, amplifying the full-body perspiration. He takes a casual sip from his beer, a guise to moisten his dry mouth and escape your intimidating gaze.

“Totally, you really come alive when you’re up there,” you rest your forearms on the table’s edge. “Is it just Eddie, or do you go by a stage name?”

No way. There’s no fucking way that you remember him, his face is so forgettable it’s not even funny. Lee had to have said something about who was filling the Saturday night spot. Eddie is inwardly thrilled to hear his name roll off of your tongue, but he tries to maintain his composure. “I suppose not, I guess I never thought about it.”

“You could pull it off, it suits the whole ‘one-man show’ thing you’ve got going on,” You say while giving him a once-over. The intrigue on your face is unwavering as you walk away.

He’s drunk, he has to be. Or maybe his drink was spiked somehow. The room is spinning and he feels nauseous as all hell, despite only having taken a few swigs from his beer.

A short while later, Eddie’s bottle is half-empty as he sits, continuously replaying the moment in his mind. More specifically, he can’t stop thinking about the sparkle in your eyes; he’s never seen anything like it.

He snaps back from his daydream at the sight of your return, this time with an unopened beer in hand. Eddie looks nothing short of puzzled as you slide it across the table toward him. “Uh, no thanks, I’m-”

“Relax, it’s not for you. I’ll be clocking out in six minutes. I wanna hear more about that small town of yours. I mean, as long as that’s okay with you. I understand if you have other plans tonight.”

“No!” Eddie exclaims. “I mean, yes it’s more than okay, and no, I don’t have anywhere to be.”

You glance downward while scuffing your shoe against the floor. “Okay, cool. Keep it cold for me then?” 

“Yeah, for sure. You can count on me.”

Shit shit shit. How is he going to keep this beer cold? Of course, ways to heat it flood his mind. If you come back to a lukewarm beer, that’ll be the end of him. He’s going to fuck this up and any chance of getting to know you will be squashed.

When you join him again, your drink is still cold and the bottle has left a ring of moisture on the paper coaster. Eddie’s unsure of how he managed to not lose it; if he’s capable of anything, it’s misplacing something when his only responsibility is to keep it in his possession. 

As you slide onto the stool beside him, you’re quick to inquire. You ask him typical ice-breaker questions at first, and Eddie responds with a plethora of details. At times, he goes off on tangents. You don’t appear bothered by it.

Eddie talks about his ability to learn how to play songs by ear, and he delves into the intricacies of his favorite Dungeons & Dragons campaigns that he’s created over the years. He earnestly tries to convey its depth to you and throughout his ramblings, he doesn’t miss the concentrated look on your face as you try to keep up.

Lee is nearing the end of his cleaning routine and the other waitresses have left for the night. Neither of you is aware that the bar is devoid of a crowd, scorching lights, and blaring music.

Eddie has been too busy asking you about your origins and passions, his wide eyes and attentive demeanor affirming his genuine interest. Just as he mentions working at the shop and you’ve asked him how many tattoos he has, you’re interrupted.

Lee stands beside the table, armed with a damp rag and a spray bottle. “Awfully hard to wipe the seats when your asses are still on them. Scoot your booch,” Lee instructs by motioning toward the entrance.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to slip off his stool. You, on the other hand, take your sweet time.

“Have a good night,” You say and give Lee’s shoulder a friendly pat.

Uncertain of his next move, Eddie hesitates while you make your way to an unmarked door. It’s half past two in the morning, and he feels a tug of concern about you leaving by yourself.

There’s a very good chance that you’d consider him clingy or intrusive if he waits here. Eddie opts to stand outside. He props himself against the building and idly nudges a loose chunk of concrete with his shoe to keep himself occupied. Soon after, you emerge into the night.

The slam of the heavy door prompts him to straighten up. “Hey.”

“Oh, I thought you left,” you admit and adjust your purse strap on your shoulder. “Thanks for telling me about Hawkins the Hell Hole.”

“The pleasure was all mine. Do you, uh…” Eddie inches forward, his Reeboks scraping loudly on the pavement. “Would you like me to walk you home? It’s pretty late.”

“I don’t live far, it’s just a few blocks.’

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you around then?”

Your eyes twinkle brighter than he’d previously seen. “I’d say the odds are in your favor.”

“Goodnight. Get home safe,” He says with a half-hearted bow.

“Likewise,” You reply, biting back a giggle.

Eddie watches you fade into the darkness along the unlit patches of sidewalk. Once you’ve turned the corner, Eddie smiles from the surreal sensation of floating on clouds.

In this moment, the feeling of joy is so potent that it’s borderline palpable. He’s the embodiment of elation, a soul soaring high. It’s a feeling he wishes he could bottle up and carry with him forever.

The next Saturday plays out much like the previous one, save for one detail: it’s considerably tougher to concentrate on stage knowing who’s in the audience. Post-performance, the routine echoes that of the prior week. The two of you gravitate toward the same table as before, establishing it as the one you’ll always sit at.

At first, a hesitation lingers before diving into more personal topics. However, as the night progresses and more beers are consumed, you seamlessly fall into them. Eddie weaves elements of drama and romanticism into his past, making it utterly engrossing for you to listen to.

When you propose getting together outside of the confines of the bar for the first time, Eddie eagerly accepts your invitation to show him around since he has yet to do any sightseeing.

Eddie is swept up in an exuberant wave of boyish excitement, and it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt. He never experienced it during his teenage years like the average person. The sheer thrill of having an instant connection with a girl is an entirely new feeling for him.

Week after week, your laundry days are synchronized and you’ve started the habit of making silly faces or giving each other the finger just because. During the late nights spent together at Dove’s Diner, Eddie finds enjoyment in seeing you eat. It’s a peculiar fascination, but it makes him happy. Seeing you completely at ease while enjoying greasy food is endearing to him.

When he arrived in Chicago, Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of not wanting to move back to Hawkins. Even so, he wasn’t experiencing the same comfort here as he did in that cramped trailer.

There was a longing for familiarity that he had in his old surroundings. Eddie didn’t want to have to go back home in order to feel that sense of belonging again. He had his doubts about ever truly adjusting to life here until you came along. In your company, the foreignness of the city fades away, replaced by that feeling he’s been missing.

Several times, he’s been working in his sketchbook, adding to the pin-up style figures and faces that bear a striking resemblance to you. While engrossed in drawing, he hadn’t picked up on the similarities. But when he absentmindedly drew a simple heart, that's when it occurred to him.

Eddie like-likes you.

As your shift comes to an end, you head to the back room to gather your belongings. Eddie stands idly at your claimed table, picking at his hangnails while he waits.

“When’re you gonna ask her out?” Lee asks while tidying up nearby.

Eddie laughs heartily at the idea. “How about never.” 

“You should. I can tell she’s into you.”

“Yeah, right. I don’t stand a chance.”

Lee puts down his spray bottle and looks at Eddie. “Listen, I’ve known her for a while now. Trust me on this,” he dumps a used ashtray out into a trash bag.

Eddie emits a noise of disbelief, his mind flickering back to the painful lesson he learned in his youth—he’s no one's type. Lost in reflection, he doesn’t realize you’ve returned with your sweatshirt draped over your bent arm.

Despite the tiring evening, you're upbeat in his presence. “Okay, I’m ready! I was thinking we could get some takeout and watch TV at my place.”

“Sure, I could eat,” Eddie says with a grin. Lee is shaking his head, looking particularly smug.

Your apartment is the polar opposite of Eddie’s, the difference is like day and night. It has a homey atmosphere and there’s a notable absence of wear and tear. He does have band posters, framed personal photos, and furniture, but they fail to create the same inviting ambiance that your apartment effortlessly exudes.

Seated beside Eddie on your couch, you tease him. “You’re terrible at this.”

“I’m trying!” He attempts to mimic your technique, but the piece of chicken repeatedly falls from his chopsticks.

“I can see that,” you stifle a laugh. “And you’re total shit at it.”

Out of frustration, Eddie impales his sweet and sour chicken with both sticks.

Glancing your way, he catches you smiling ear to ear, watching him. Eddie smiles back as he chews. “What? This way works just as well.”

You laugh and refocus your on the TV while resuming your meal. Eddie swears that you’re sitting closer to him than when you first sat down. Your thigh is almost touching his and your shoulder is just as close.

The paranoia subsides as he gets lost in thinking about how he can feel the heat radiating off of your bare thigh. But Eddie’s pulled back to reality when your chopsticks cut across his vision and dig into his takeout box.

He doesn’t mind, not really; sharing is caring. Having said that, when you lean over to look into the box, your shoulder bumps against his. A particularly appreciative sound escapes your lips, one that’s borderline pornographic.

“That’s really good, I’ll have to get some next time,” you hum and place your takeout box on the coffee table. “Or I could just keep stealing yours, it tastes better that way.”

Eddie is frozen, eyes unblinking. As you return to your spot on the sofa, you’re unquestionably closer this time. Your beautiful skin is on display in those shorts of yours and your bare thigh is brushing against his own. He could choke on air right now if he were still breathing.

You look over at him, your brow furrowed. “You good?”

“Yeah, yep. All good,” Eddie avoids making eye contact and stares blankly ahead. “Peachy keen.”

“Okay, weirdo,” you brush off his abrupt awkwardness and scoot toward the edge of the cushion. After gathering your trash, you look at him. “All finished?”

“Mhm,” He replies weakly and extends his box toward you.

With your arms full, you head into the kitchen, leaving him by his lonesome in the living room.

Eddie releases a heavy sigh and drags his hands down his face. Your absence allows him to reenter his body, but it only makes him keenly aware of his not-so-subtle half hard-on that’s outlined through the thin fabric of his shorts.

His eyes widen in alarm and panic takes over. “Shit!” Frantically brainstorming ways to conceal it, Eddie spots a fuzzy blanket at the far end of the couch and he retrieves it, draping it over his lap. While he tries to make himself look as casual as possible, he catches a glimpse of your approaching shadow just before the kitchen light is switched off.

In the few seconds he has left, Eddie tries out various hand placements, but none feel quite right. Every position feels forced and conspicuous.

As you stride back to the couch, your sweet expression eases some of the tension in his bones. “I got a bit chilly,” Eddie blurts out, hoping to preempt any impending questioning. “Is it okay if I use this?”

“No, I’m totally gonna tell you that you can’t use a blanket for its sole purpose.”

Eddie laughs nervously, “Alright, alright.”

This is arguably worse, being wrapped in your scent. It’s awfully hard not to get any harder when your natural smell is flooding his head. It’s intoxicating, and he finds himself inhaling deeply to capture as much of it as he can.

“What’d I miss?” You ask while plopping back down beside him.

The continuous movement causes Eddie to clench his back molars together because an image surges before he can even think to suppress it. He’d bet all the money he has that you’d look stunning on top of him. There’s fantasy looming alongside the image; Eddie wonders what you look like beneath your clothes.

“Nothing, you didn’t miss anything,” He mutters. When you start to squirm against the back of the couch, Eddie shoots you a questioning look. “You got ants in your pants?”

You huff, “No, there’s an itchy spot on my back. Could you scratch it for me, please? It’s driving me nuts.”

“Oh, um, sure,” Eddie fumbles for words as you angle yourself and present your back to him. “Where is it?”

“Right between my shoulder blades.”

Eddie’s eyes zero in on the outline of your bra strap that’s visible through your shirt across your back. Given his luck, that would be the target. Just to be cautious, he starts by scratching at the higher middle part of your back.

“A little lower.”

Eddie swallows hard as his fingers tentatively inch their way down. His belly begins to swirl the closer he gets to the clasp, but thankfully, you stop him just before he reaches it.

“Right there! Yeah, harder.”

If this goes on too much longer, Eddie could very well pass out. But, per your request, he applies more pressure. Beneath the blanket, the discomfort has only intensified—his arousal is now raging with a persistent ache.

“Oh my god, finally,” You say appreciatively and settle back into a more relaxed position.

The overwhelming urge to touch himself skyrockets as his body begs for friction. Eddie repositions himself to adjust the blanket, hoping to keep his erection concealed. From the corner of his eye, his gaze drifts along your figure, pausing at the rise and fall of your diaphragm as you watch TV.

A jagged breath falls from his lips, but he’s determined to clear his mind. Realizing that he can’t leave here tonight with your blanket as a shield, he has to find a way to distract himself by the end of this program.

Miraculously, he survived. Now lying in his bed, Eddie is surrounded by the darkness, save for the glow of the moon and the faint residual light from the streetlamps filtering through the broken blinds. Eddie stares up at the ceiling while his mostly naked body responds to the vivid recollections swarming his train of thought.

On any ordinary day, Eddie would resort to the routine of using his hand and lotion to relieve himself. Be that as it may, the stirring in his core demands a different sensation.

With the thought of you weighing heavily on his mind, there’s an alternative means by which he’s going to alleviate the frustration and desire that’s grown too loud to ignore. Eddie, already shirtless, yanks his boxers off in a swift motion and kicks them off carelessly. Moving onto his knees, he leans over the edge of his bed and retrieves a pillow from the floor.

He sits back on his heels in the middle of his bed and contorts the stuffing with intent. For a moment, he’s not sure how he wants to use it. His body’s impatience grows, causing his erection to bob expectantly.

Eddie licks his lips in anticipation and sets the bent pillow down with the bend facing him. With one hand, he firmly holds the makeshift toy in place. With his other, he strokes himself languidly, blotting the fabric of the pillowcase with precum as he taps his cock against it repeatedly.

Experimentally, Eddie rolls his hips downward, thrusting the sensitive underside of his length against the smooth material. His eyes fall closed, and he can’t seem to pick just one aspect of you to fantasize about, not when every inch of you is so captivating. Eddie grunts, “Yeah, you like that?”

He adjusts his hips, angling them lower to get more friction. The heat blooming causes Eddie’s jaw to go slack. The usual five or six minutes have been halved as the thought of your smile makes Eddie embarrassingly close already.

Wanting to get in a few more thrusts before he’s spent, Eddie pistons himself against the pillow. “Tell me how badly you want me, I wanna hear you say it.”

With one fist continuing to pin the pillow down against the mattress, Eddie trails his other hand up his pale, slender stomach. He digs his gnawed-down nails into his skin, leaving red streaks behind, as he tries to imagine it as your touch. Eddie doesn’t know what it would feel like if it wasn’t his hand, but the thought of you is more than enough.

Devoid of any visual aid, the absence of a magazine or porno tape isn’t hindering him. Typically, when Eddie only has his imagination to utilize, he can beat off without finishing until he eventually gets bored and gives up.

This time it’s different. As his thoughts run wild, Eddie’s rhythm falters. The bed frame squeaks, and the wood shifts while he thrusts as hard as he can.

“Uhhh,” A coarse moan pours from his throat as his cum shoots onto the pillow. Eddie’s thrusts slow to a stop and he pants. The tension in his abdomen gradually subsides as he floats his way back down to earth.

His eyes flutter open, and he’s faced with the mess he made. “Fuckin’ hell,” With a sigh, Eddie decides that he’ll deal with it tomorrow.

After changing into fresh boxers, he chugs down a glass of tap water. Utterly exhausted, Eddie collapses back onto his bed. The aged frame creaks in protest to his abrupt flop. The intensity has been burned away, and what lingers is rawness.

Here’s the thing, Eddie has a way with words, and his unconventional charm comes without a second thought. But conveying himself physically is a different story. His upbringing lacked affection, and consequently, Eddie was robbed of particular milestones. Among those missed moments was sitting on the grass beneath a starry night sky on summer night.

Eddie never got to pluck the green blades from the ground as he gathered the courage to have his first kiss. He hasn’t so much as held someone’s hand before.

With Mr. Pickles tucked under his chin, a wave washes over his heart, wading him further into the tide of ache. Eddie may be inexperienced but he’s not stupid. He’s picking up what you’re putting down. Your persistent hints practically scream at him to make a move.

But your persistence only worsens the anxiety because Eddie’s not sure that he can take the leap like you want him to. It’s not that he doesn’t want you, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s uncertainty about what to do if he gets to be with you.

Eddie’s drawn to you, his poor pillow could tell you that much. This isn’t the first night he’s spent laying here trying to talk some sense into himself. When he practices being smooth instead of awkward, Eddie struggles to navigate through the hypothetical scenarios that he’s in complete control of.

If his bedroom walls could speak, they’d tell of those nights. But after the sinful act he just committed, they have a hell of a lot more to say. Those bold utterances were far from who he is. It was a facade, a portrayal of a self-assured man he’ll never embody.

Talking dirty made him feel powerful in the moment because the mask allowed him to avoid facing how he truly feels about you. At his core, what Eddie craves is to baby you, he wants to show you that he can be sensitive. He’d die on the spot to see you in a state of delight from being showered with adoration.

Eddie closes his eyes and envisions a world where he can be what you want. He’d never be oblivious to having food in his teeth, and he’d never push a door that should be pulled. This false reality is one where he doesn’t disappoint you by shying away from your advances. It’s unrealistic, he’s just not wired that way.

During his younger years, Eddie endured the worst of taunting. The other kids mocked his short frizzy curls by referring to it as a “rat’s nest.” They told him that he’d resemble a troll until his dying days.  It was ingrained into him that he was unworthy of any form of love—be it familial, platonic, or romantic. The remarks made about Eddie’s prominent nose convinced him that he was a walking safety hazard and he’d poke someone’s eye out if he ever dared to kiss them.

In the seventh grade, Eddie hit a breaking point. He was fed up with having chewing gum put into his curls. There are too many times to count where Wayne sat for hours with a jar of peanut butter, attempting to free the cemented wads from his nephew’s locks. One day, Eddie stood in front of the mirror in the cramped bathroom and cried at the discovery of another bright pink clump of gum tangled in his hair.

It may have been just one piece at that time, but it was the final straw. Out of desperation, Eddie did the only thing he felt would solve the problem for good. By taking matters into his own hands, he used the clippers to give himself a buzz-cut. As chestnut-colored locks cascaded down, settling atop the sink and his feet, the damage was done.

Wayne lent a hand in handling the patchy spots in the back of Eddie’s head that he couldn’t quite reach. The impromptu solution worked as he’d hoped, but it only opened the door to different torment. 

The following school day, his classmates didn’t hold back, likening his appearance to that of an inmate waiting to meet Old Sparky, or cruelly suggesting that he resembles his imprisoned father.

Eddie quickly came to understand that he was never going to be the guy girls wished would ask them to the dance. The scars of rejection were etched into his self-esteem, and since then, he’s come to terms with his inadequacy.

Perhaps you’re interested in Eddie because there are still things you don’t know about him. Surely, once you learn how unworthy he is, you’ll laugh in his face just as the others did.

Tonight he’s shielded from the nightlife commotion inside his van, parked along the curb outside your apartment. He sits patiently, watching the pine tree-shaped air freshener gently sway with the feeble push of air from the AC vents.

It’s Friday night, and there’s nothing he’d rather do than spend it with you. Eddie directs his attention toward your building as you descend the steps of your apartment’s stoop.

Eddie detects the effort, even from afar. Your shoes look new and you’re wearing more makeup than he’s used to seeing you in. These differences have him pondering the significance behind the deliberate choices.

When Eddie casually suggested catching a movie a few days ago, he hadn’t thought much of it. To him, it was merely something you hadn't done together. He didn’t think twice when you got so excited about seeing a late-night showing of Die Hard.

It’s dawning on him that it wasn’t because you’re a big Bruce Willis fan. The reason you’re all gussied up is because this is a date. He asked you out on a date.

This is not a problem, per se. Eddie’s thrilled about going on his very first date, but fear also has him in a chokehold because he’s unprepared.

Wayne never took the time to give his nephew the lowdown on dating. It didn’t come up because Eddie never displayed interest or curiosity about it.

He’s at a loss. Eddie doesn’t know how to carry himself, he doesn’t have a clue about what’s considered proper etiquette beyond what he’s seen on TV and in movies. Are those even reliable sources?

As you cross the sidewalk in his direction, Eddie’s palms grow slick. It suddenly registers that he should be outside, ready to hold the car door open for you. But before he can act on this realization, you swiftly swing the door open and slip onto the passenger seat.

"Hi," You chirp, the sound almost a squeak as you close the car door behind you. You subtly adjust the bottom of your dress before securing your seatbelt.

“Hey,” Eddie’s eyes wander over your body until he finds himself admiring your bare knees.

With a jolt, his eyes snap back to your face, only for you to be watching him with a pleased expression adorning your features.

Eddie clears his throat and busies himself with turning over the ignition. “You look nice,” he scrunched his face. “Pretty! I meant to say you look pretty.”

"Thanks," you reply appreciatively and inspect your freshly painted nails to ensure they’ve withstood the indecisive wardrobe changes of the past half hour.

Throughout the brief drive, engaging in small talk grants Eddie a temporary respite from his brain being in overdrive. Determined to maintain composure, he makes a conscious effort to avoid looking your way.

Eddie successfully carries the conversation as you enter the lobby and get through the refreshments line. Luckily, you secure the last two seats at the end of a row; he’d have been mortified if the theater was oversold and there weren’t any seats left.

The first half of the movie goes as one would expect; you’re comfortably seated beside him, occasionally whispering commentary to each other. Meanwhile, Eddie shovels fistfuls of over-buttered and under-salted popcorn into his mouth, crunching away as the scenes progress on the screen before him.

But then there’s a subtle shift in your body language. He assumes that your inability to sit still might be caused by the need for a restroom break. That is until your knee gradually inches closer to his.

The film has become an afterthought as Eddie watches you place your hand on your thigh, noticeably close to his own that’s casually hanging off of the armrest. It’s impossible to differentiate the pounding pulse in his ears from the blasts of gunfire booming through the theater.

When your fingertips graze his, Eddie rips his hand away to reach for the bucket of popcorn that’s resting in the ditch of his opposite arm. “Want some?” he fails to whisper while offering the bucket to you.

The explosive flashes of red and yellow harshly illuminate your face and without a word, you shake your head and go back to the movie.

Eddie puts the bucket back where it was, and in the hopes of distracting himself from the guilty tingle in his feet, he fidgets with his wristwatch. Repeatedly, Eddie clasps and unclasps it, making the strap incredibly loose and uncomfortably tight around his wrist.

A few minutes go by and without warning, his heart stops because you unexpectedly rest your head on his shoulder.

As if struck by lightning, Eddie leaps to his feet. The motion launches the bucket of popcorn into the air, and the people in the row in front of you are showered with kernels. He's as stiff as a board as he’s confronted with mild uproar and a chorus of expletives. 

Red-faced and unsure of whom to apologize to first, Eddie turns to you. “Shit! I’ll go get another one,” He doesn’t wait for your response and rushes down the stairs, practically leaping over them two at a time.

After bursting through the double doors and out into the empty hallway, Eddie brings his palm to his forehead, his other hand propped on his hip while he paces. Once he’s able to collect himself, Eddie heads toward the lobby, only to find that everything is powered down. 

Eddie decides to use the little time he has to rehearse what he’ll say. There might not be anything he can do to play off his peculiar behavior; at least, nothing that he can think of at the moment.

As he shows up empty-handed, Eddie doesn’t overlook your rigid posture. Your left leg is crossed over your right, pointing away from him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just upset that he wasted the popcorn and didn't get more.

In your lack of questioning, Eddie feels compelled to explain himself. “Concessions were closed, so…” He gestures with upturned palms, but you don’t acknowledge that he’s spoken or come back.

Not having received a response, Eddie resorts to chewing on his thumbnail and his leg bounces in tandem. Lost in his head, he finds it increasingly difficult to focus on the remainder of the movie.

Exiting the theater and stepping out into the parking lot, Eddie’s voice lacks confidence as he walks alongside you. “What’d ya think? I give it a solid six out of ten.”

You reply with a casual shrug and wrap your arms around yourself. “It was alright.”

“How ‘bout I treat you to Dove’s? Wanna go for a bite?” Eddie suggests to salvage the remainder of the evening.

“I’ll pass. I’m not hungry,” you say curtly, taking a step ahead to open the passenger door for yourself, denying Eddie a second chance to hold it open for you. 

“Oh,” Eddie begins, but his sentence is severed by the slam of the door. “Okay,” he finishes with a sigh.

During the drive back to your neighborhood, the air feels dense. The radio commercials do little to fill the space between you.

Upon the front tire nudging the curb, you get out of the van before Eddie has put it in park. He hurriedly follows suit, rushing over to catch up with you as you head toward your front steps.

“I had a good time tonight. Did you?” Eddie blurts out.

Pausing in your steps, you turn around and face him. “Yeah, I guess.”

Knowing that he’s the cause of your deflated spirit punches a pang to his chest. Eddie offers a gentle expression. “Would you wanna go again sometime? Probably best if you hold the popcorn though,” he chuckles uncomfortably.

“Night, Eddie,” You say with finality before letting yourself into your apartment.

Once you’ve gone inside, dejection overtakes Eddie’s features. “Goodnight,” he mutters to himself, biting the inside of his cheek.

Sifting through the mental archive of wisdom passed down by Wayne, Eddie desperately rummages for any guidance that could apply to his current situation.

Eddie has officially had the world’s worst date, and it very well could be the only one he’ll ever get to go on. It only hurts more that the outcome was entirely his fault.

You’re avoiding him, that much is obvious. You stopped showing up to do laundry together and while he performs, you intentionally keep your back turned to the stage.

After your Saturday shifts end, you no longer stick around to hang out with Eddie, instead choosing to leave with your fellow waitresses.

One would think that it was a tough decision, but it makes perfect sense to him. Eddie gives up playing on Saturdays to avoid crossing paths with you. He reverts to his old spot on Thursday nights.

It’s a way to protect himself while making things easier for you. He can’t fathom how repulsed you are by his presence at this point.

Eddie sits at the folding table in his living room, his feet hooked with one another. The blaring thrash metal fills the room as he meticulously drafts tattoo concepts, completely absorbed in his sketchbook.

The incessant ringing of the telephone hardly cuts through the music. Eddie ignores it for the first two rings and lets out a reluctant huff before pausing the tape and picking up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy, can you come get me?” Your cheerful request weaves through the lively chatter and honking car horns in the background.

Not having seen you in two weeks, your voice hits him like a wall. “What for?”

“M’ready to go home.”

Eddie reads his watch and leans against the wall. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“You know what, forget it. I’ll just walk home.”

“Absolutely fucking not. What bar are you at?”

“Errr, The Dugout I think.”

“Stay put, alright? Wait for me inside, I’ll be there in a few,” After hanging up, he recklessly shoves his feet into his Reeboks and snatches his car keys from the counter.

Eddie arrives, expecting you to be inside. But there you are, sitting on the curb, right where you shouldn’t be. He calls out to you and jogs over, dodging a few bar-goers on the way.

At first, you turn your head the wrong way when you hear your name called. When you spot him, you scramble upright. “You came for me!” Excitedly, you raise your hands above your head and it slightly throws off your balance. 

“Holy shit, you’re plastered,” Eddie half-scoffs, half-laughs. His eyes roam your body, and he immediately takes notice of your scraped and bloodied knees. “Jesus, what happened?”

“Huh?” you ask, your drunken buoyancy unaffected by his evident concern. Following his guided point, you simply shrug. “I dunno, can’t remember.”

“You’re not here by yourself, are you?” Eddie scans the area, looking for any signs of someone accompanying you.

“Mmm... no, well yes. My girlfriends were here but they left.”

Eddie scoffs, “You’ve got some shitty friends.”

“Good thing I have you. My very own knight in shining armor is here to rescue me!”

“That tower of yours must’ve had quite the mini bar, princess,” Eddie remarks.

“Let’s go,” Eddie instructs, heading toward his van with the assumption that you’re following.  Peeking over his shoulder, you’re practically tripping over your own feet.

The long strap of your purse slides off your shoulder, snags on your bent elbow, and the bag thuds against your calf.

“What am I gonna do with you, hmm?” He steps back, takes hold of your purse, and throws it over his shoulder. Then, he wraps his arm around your waist and holds you snugly to his side, determined to get you home safely by whatever means necessary. After helping you into the passenger seat, he reaches over to fasten your seatbelt. “No hurling in here, got it?”

“Yes, sir,” you salute before sitting back so that your head is supported by the headrest.

Getting you up the stairs was the hard part. He unlocks the apartment door and gently steers you toward the bathroom.

You make a feeble attempt to resist, grasping onto the door frame before finally yielding to your waning strength.

Eddie lets go of you and begins to rummage in search of supplies.

“Okay, Eddie Bear. I’m ready for my bath,” You slur, leaning against the wall for support as you start to ease yourself into the tub.

“Eddie Bear, huh? That’s new,” he snorts before glancing over. “Oh, no you don’t. C’mere,” Eddie grasps you by the waist once more, guiding you to sit on the closed toilet seat.

With both hands, he cradles your booze-warmed cheeks, unintentionally pushing your lips into a pout. “Stay put, would ya?”

Mumbling to himself, Eddie goes back to gathering the first aid supplies. “I look away for two goddamn seconds. Nothing but trouble, I swear.”

The pout doesn’t leave your face and you cross your arms with an annoyed huff. As the seconds pass, it's as though there’s elevator music playing in your head while you wait for something to happen.

Eddie crouches at your feet. “So, what’s your justification for getting shit-faced on a weeknight?” The tip of his tongue peeks out from between his lips as he begins wiping away the dried blood on your knees with a damp cloth.

“Boys are dumb, that’s why.”

“I know, aren’t they just the worst?” Eddie concurs with a hum. He stands to rinse the cloth, washes his hands, and then fully gets to his knees on the tile floor to apply ointment.

“Yeah, they are,” Your voice trails off as you look at his fingers resting firmly on your thigh, just above your knee, to prevent any inadvertent movement.

Engrossed in your own little world, you start humming an improvised tune. “Like them so much,” you sing-song to yourself.

Eddie glances up at you briefly. “What’s that?”

“Your hands,” you explain and poke each of his knuckles with your index finger. “You’ve got such nice fingies.”

“Fingies?” Eddie smiles as he secures bandages over both of your knees. He withdraws his touch from your thigh and he takes hold of your hand, turning it palm-side up.

“Mhm, the nicest.”

“Yours are nice too,” he comments as he cleans the scrape on the heel of your hand. As Eddie admires the intricate lines and wrinkles across your palm, he inadvertently brushes the cloth directly against your wound.

You make a high-pitched fuss in reaction to the sudden contact, reflexively pulling your hand away.

“Shit, sorry,” Eddie apologizes earnestly. He applies the ointment before applying a bandage. Rising to his feet, he theatrically brushes off his hands. “There, good as new.”

You reach out to him in a toddler-like manner and make grabby hands at him.

Eddie laughs and leans against the door frame. “I’m not carrying you. Brush your teeth so we can get you into bed.”

“You’re no fun,” you groan while you stand awkwardly, the bandages restricting full movement. You wet your toothbrush and squeeze toothpaste onto it, making sure to shoot a scowl at Eddie as you do.

After lackadaisically brushing your teeth, you plop the brush back into its cup. “There, squeaky clean. Happy?”

“As a clam,” Eddie says with a grin. He steps back to allow you out of the bathroom. “Go put your PJs on.”

With a dismissive wave, you drag your feet to your room and begin to dig through your dresser drawer.

Just as he’s about to start picking up after himself, he’s interrupted.

“Eddie,” You call out defeatedly. 

“Yeah?” When he doesn’t receive an immediate response, he cautiously steps into the doorway of your room. There you stand, still wearing your dress.

“I can’t reach it,” You say, turning your back to him and bowing your head slightly, signaling that you need his assistance.

Eddie swallows hard and mutters under his breath, “Right, the zipper,” Stepping into the room, his hands start to tremble.

Now positioned behind you, he carefully takes hold of the small piece of metal. Despite the trembling, Eddie tries his best not to make contact with your skin as it’s revealed by the descending zipper.

Dizziness consumes him as his eyes flit between your shoulder blades. Once your dress is completely unzipped, Eddie takes a significant step backward, putting distance between the two of you. “Is that all you need?”

You return to sifting through your pajama options. “I think so.” 

Eddie retreats to the bathroom. The image of your bare back is seared into his memory, he’s just gonna have to live with it etched into his mind forever.

After regaining his composure, he locates some aspirin and fills a drinking glass with water. “Are you decent?” Eddie asks hesitantly, not daring to step closer to the threshold without receiving confirmation.

“Uh huh,” You mumble, flopping onto your bed and committing to the first position you land in.

Holding the cup of water and two tablets of pain relief, Eddie re-enters your bedroom. He finds you sprawled and droopy-eyed lying on your back.

Eddie’s chunky metal rings clink against the glass when he sets it down on your nightstand. “I think you’ll appreciate this little visit from the aspirin fairy come morning. You’re gonna feel like shit.”

“Okay,” you murmur, your attention glued to how his strong nose casts a shadow on his cheek in the glow of your bedside lamp. Flipping onto your side facing the door, you yawn and stretch your toes.

Eddie gathers the jumbled blanket from the other side of the bed and drapes it over you, covering you up to your shoulders with care.

Although he wants to, he refrains from tucking you in, concerned that you might trip or get more hurt if you need to get up. “Well, goodnight.”

Just as Eddie turns to leave, your weak grasp seizes his hand before he’s out of reach. It stops him in his tracks, and his gaze follows the path from your joined hands, tracing up your arm until his eyes meet yours.

Fighting to keep your eyes open, you’re teetering on the edge of consciousness. “I don’t want you to go.”

He returns without needing any further invitation and sits on the edge of the bed by your belly. Releasing his hand, you rub your eye before tucking your fist beside your head.

Looking down at you affectionately, a grin graces Eddie’s face. He watches as your eyelids flutter closed, and your breathing becomes slow and steady. “Such a sleepy girl.”

With your eyes cemented closed, you adjust your head on the pillow before drifting off to sleep. Eddie stays put for a minute or two, simply admiring you. He’s never seen something so precious.

His heartbeat rattles his ribs, just as it did the first time he saw you waitressing at Double Barrel. That static-like tingling plagues his extremities as an old thought resurfaces. In those conversations where you shared your life stories, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be kissed by you.

Eddie’s eyes brim with tears at the fact that his presence is solely due to your inebriation, and this closeness it’s about to expire. “God,” he exhales, rolling his eyes skyward to hold back his tears.

“Sleep tight, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, pulling the blanket a touch higher over your shoulder. Then, he switches off the lamp and leaves you to rest.

Dwelling on the fact that you won’t remember tonight won’t do him any good. Getting this close to you would have never happened in sober circumstances. At least he got to take care of you in the way he always wanted, even if only for a short time.

Over the past few days, Eddie has been thinking about how he felt when you relied on him to get you home. He’s curious whether the call you made to him signifies that you still want him in your life. If that happens to be the case, then he can work with that.

Going through with this might worsen the sting of rejection, but Eddie has his heart set on mending things.

Within moments of entering the bar and scouring the room for you, he spots you conversing with Lee about a table’s order. Eddie begins to pat his thighs in an erratic rhythm as he feels his insides lurch.

As soon as Lee notices Eddie, he wraps up the conversation and gets back to work. You observe Eddie, noticing the hopefulness on his face as he strides across the room. “Do you need something?”

“Not necessarily. I was wondering if I could uh, make you dinner or something?” Eddie kicks one foot with the other and totters back and forth in place. 

Your expression changes to one of disbelieving annoyance. “I can slap together a PB&J at home, but thanks.”

“No, no. I’m serious, I’ll make whatever you want,” Eddie insists.

“What for?”

Eddie briefly looks away, scratching at the nape of his neck. “I miss hanging out with you.”

“I don’t know,” You ponder with uncertainty, your gaze monitoring the occupied tables in case you’re needed.

“Let me cook for you. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

His pleading eyes wear you down. “Fine, when?”

A bright smile spreads across Eddie’s face, stretching from ear to ear. He bounces on his tiptoes with enthusiasm. “I’ll call you tomorrow and we can set a time then.”

“Sure, yeah,” you respond, your attention diverted to a booth on the far side of the room where the seated customers wave you over. “Look, I gotta go.”

You’re already back in work mode and walking away before Eddie can say anything else. He just stands there, incapable of shrinking his smile to a mere grin.

Bowing his head, Eddie pumps his fists at his sides in a moment of triumph. With the opportunity for redemption sitting in his lap, he has his heart set on making things right.

In the days leading up to the agreed-upon dinner, Eddie makes several trips to the library, hunting for a recipe for the meal you mentioned. He dips into his emergency savings to purchase extra ingredients, dedicating his time and money to practice making it.

The first go around, he forgot to add two crucial ingredients, resulting in a bland and tasteless dish. Eddie couldn’t let it go to waste, so he settled for the less-than-impressive dinner that night.

On the second attempt, he tried to compensate for the previous mistake by adding more than enough seasoning. He didn’t exactly do it on purpose; it poured out of the canister much faster than Eddie expected. Regrettably, that meal went straight into the trash. Eddie couldn’t stomach a forkful of it.

Eddie absolutely, positively cannot fuck this one up. He can’t afford to, both figuratively and literally. Without a doubt, if he serves you a shit dinner, you’ll push him out of your life for good.

When you knock on the front door, the perceived silence on the other side of the door is broken with a clatter and muffled cursing. The quiet resumes and hangs in the air for a couple of seconds before the door swings open.

There stands Eddie, hair a little tousled. “Hello, hello!”

His stomach does somersaults at the sight before him; your clothes accentuate your figure, and your skirt suits you. Once again, you look stunning and appropriately dressed for a date.

Meanwhile, Eddie doesn’t have many options to choose from. The most formal thing he owns is a button-up shirt and it’s too dressy, but it’s all he has. Paired with it are his holeless black jeans. Before today, he never thought it was possible to be both over and underdressed at the same time.

“Come on in,” Eddie says, stepping aside with reluctance, allowing you to enter his apartment.

As soon as he opened the door to you, his mind turned into a whirlwind of second-guessing himself. The shirt is definitely too formal, but Eddie wants to prove that he knows it’s a date this time, and he means for it to be one. If only he owned an iron so that the material wasn’t as wrinkly as it is.

He wants to prove that he can clean up nicely, evident from the scent of aftershave and cologne. Eddie meticulously clipped his fingernails and tidied his eyebrows, ensuring that he is as presentable as possible.

“This is my castle,” He gestures to the space.

The entirety of the afternoon was spent tidying up and Eddie couldn’t bear to leave a single surface undusted. Any potentially embarrassing materials were tucked away and he washed all of his dirty dishes.

As you enter and survey his studio apartment, he takes the opportunity to rake through his bangs with his fingers. You spot his sketchbook sprawled open on the guitar amp and pick it up.

“Oh, those are nothing, you don’t have to-” Eddie moves forward and reaches out, intending to retrieve the drawing pad, but pauses when you point to the sketch he recently finished.

“This one,” you trace the lines of the drawing with your finger before looking over at him. “I’d get this one.”

“You’d let me give you ink?” There’s a hint of insecurity and surprise in his voice as he subtly retrieves the sketchbook from your grasp.

“Maybe. It depends if you’re still shit at it,” you shrug casually, interlocking your hands behind your back as you assess the living room area. Your attention falls on the antique bookshelf, adorned with miscellaneous items and framed photos. “Has Cliff let you take clients yet?”

“No, you’d be my first real canvas,” Eddie admits.

As you continue looking around, his gaze is one beat ahead of yours. His eyes land on it just before yours do, and his stomach drops upon spotting the one thing he forgot to hide.

“Oh my god!” You squeal, rushing over to the couch and scooping up Mr. Pickles. “Who’s this cutie?”

Pale as a ghost, Eddie stares blankly back at you. How the fuck did he forget to hide the one thing on this planet that rids him of all masculinity.

“I’ll introduce you another time,” Eddie silently urges you to put Mr. Pickles back in his spot, desperately hoping you’ll never bring it up again.

In actuality, he should be thanking himself for the oversight, because you look far more high-spirited than when you stood outside his door.

“I’m looking forward to it,” You brush over the matted fur on the bunny’s head before carefully placing him back on the sofa.

The tension dissipates on his body as he picks up on the change in your energy. It’s reminiscent of how happy you were to see him when you were drunk. But this time is different; it’s genuine, rather than influenced by alcohol.

You’re lured into the kitchen by the incredible aroma, and the steaming food matches the enticing smell. “There’s no way in hell you made that.”

“You bet your ass I did,” Eddie retorts with his hands on his hips while he makes his way from the front door to the kitchen.

You step closer to him. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before,” you purr, inching closer until your toes nearly make contact with his socked ones. With featherlight pressure, you place a tender kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

Eddie’s internal circuits fry as he tries to process the fact that he just got kissed on the cheek for the first time. His lungs refuse their vital function, denying him oxygen. He retreats by half a step, attempting to mask the blazing rosiness of his face.

“For god’s sake, I’m so sick of whatever this stupid game is.”

“What game? I’m not-” Eddie panics.

“You get me to throw myself at you by doing thoughtful shit like this, but when I finally make a move, you act revolted.”

“I swear to Christ I’m not playing with you. I mean, I’m not trying to,” Eddie explains, his words jumbling together. “I know I've been making a total ass of myself, and tonight was supposed to fix that. But I just- I keep screwing up because I like you and you make me so nervous.”

You scoff, halfway turned toward the door. “That’s hard to believe. You flinch if I so much as bump into you. You don’t want to touch me, I get it.”

A pang of guilt hits him like a baseball bat to the stomach. “No no no, I do! I wanna touch you,” Eddie admits. “Look, you mean so goddamn much to me. You deserve someone who can make you feel good, and I can’t do that.”

Still guarded, you sound agitated but you turn to face him nonetheless. “What are you talking about?”

His voice lowers, a whisper of shame. “I don’t know the first thing about pleasing a woman. Nobody wants to fuck the dorky virgin, y’know?” Eddie’s vision blurs from the tears veiling his vision.

You frown at the vulnerable quiver in his voice. “I do, I’ve been wanting to.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” he lets out a humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t be able to make you cum.”

“I have to disagree with you on that. You’re a fast learner,” You extend your hand to him at waist height.

Eddie stares at your outstretched hand, struggling to process the gesture. He holds his breath, torn between his anxiety and trust. Cautiously, he places his hand in yours.

The benevolent hold pulses a flash flood through his being, the frigid water jolting his systems alive. When you intertwine your fingers with his, the clamminess is evident against the softness of your palm. Insecurity floods him, worried that you’ll be repulsed by it.

Cracks of lightning electrify Eddie’s heart, rendering him unable to meet your gaze. Instead, he focuses intensely on your joined hands. “I have no idea what I'm doing though.”

“That’s okay,” you assure him with a confident smile. Giving his hand a slight squeeze, you add, “See, not so scary anymore, right?”

Eddie shakes his head, even though fear is still coursing through his veins. You pick up on his hesitation and knowing that he won’t do it himself, you guide his hand to your hip and leave it there.

He sort of caresses, not out of boldness, but seeking to alleviate the numbness in his fingers. The sensation has already spread to other parts of his body.

Your patient expression, graced with a grin, grows into a bright smile when you meet his eyes. Eddie’s confidence blossoms, and he uses his other hand to cradle your cheek.

Acquainting himself with the contours of your face, his thumb strokes lightly from beneath your eyes and along your cheekbone. He starts to smile too as his nerves give way to the feeling of reassurance.

As you tilt your head into his touch, your eyelids flutter closed, and you grasp at the loose sides of his shirt, pulling him closer. He steps forward willingly, but his voice retains an uncertain tone. “I really wanna kiss you, but I’ve never, uh…”

You lean in, and the tip of your nose gently brushes against his. The thundering of his heart in his ears drowns out everything but your voice.

“Close your eyes and follow my lead, okay?” The warmth of your breath encircles his lips, turning his knees to jelly. 

Eddie can’t even whisper a confirmation. At your request, he closes his eyes, leaving him solely reliant on his other senses. The smoothness of your lips against his registers as a gentle peck with just enough pressure for him to feel it. It lingers, and he finds himself incapable of moving his lips in response.

“Want another?”

With his eyes still closed, he murmurs, “Yes, please.”

Devilishly, you press a kiss to his wrist, the hand that is still gently cradling your face.

Eddie’s eyes open, a pout and a scowl simultaneously forming his reaction. “Nu-uh, right here,” he insists, leaning in eagerly. He’s caught up in the desire to feel it again but he’s still hesitant to initiate the kiss himself.

You happily close the gap and this time, Eddie slightly purses his lips against yours, doing his best to follow your lead. After giving it a few tries, he feels you withdraw but his head instinctively follows, chasing your lips.

His eyes swirl with affection as he grapples for something to say, feeling breathless and dumb. “Fuck, I don’t wanna stop doing that.”

“Then don’t.”

Finally, Eddie’s able to pursue, but only a fraction of a second before you. With determination, his pecks carry more verve. It’s easier than he thought it would be; granted, he can rely on his ability to keep a steady rhythm, a perk of being a musician.

Eddie didn’t think this could get any better—that is until your lips slot perfectly between his, wet and warm. He pauses, malfunctioning once more. As you kiss him deeply, his mind is dusted in a golden haze and it feels as though he’s floating within himself. Enveloped by the sensation of your hands on his collarbones, a soft noise escapes him.

Mortified, Eddie freezes. Instead of deterring you, it only spurs you on. You wrap your arms around his neck and mold your body against his. The intensity of the kiss only escalates, he’s chasing your storm, matching your every move.

Your fingers entwine in the curls at the nape of his neck, coaxing more noises from him. Eddie is so far gone that he’s unaware of the growing bulge in his jeans. His hand leaves your cheek, traces down your shoulder, and along the outside of your arm before clinging to your waist with both hands.

You hover over his lips, a stream of electricity fizzling between you. “Is it okay if I take my shirt off?”

Eddie forgets to respond but then nods fervently. With curious eyes, he watches intently as you lift your shirt, unveiling skin he’s never seen before.

He inhales and exhales shakily as your necklace falls back into its place against your chest. It’s not a swinging pocket watch, but Eddie is entranced nonetheless.

“You said you wanna touch me,” you draw his trembling hands up your sides. “Now’s your chance.”

Eddie’s hands ascend and meet the silky band of your bra, and you guide his palms forward to the plush foam padding. Your reassuring hold is encouraging, but Eddie tears his stare from your breasts to check-in. He finds you already looking at him, exuding a sweet demeanor. “Give it a try.”

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs in the thick column of his throat, his hands unmoving beneath yours.

“Like this,” You squeeze your hands twice before removing your guidance and allowing him to proceed at his own pace.

Adrenaline motivates him to cup them independently this time, and his cock twitches as he commits to the action.

“You’re doing great by the way,” You offer a smile.

Growing more confident, Eddie applies more pressure. His thumbs move in tandem, brushing over the area where your nipples are concealed. The innocent delight in his eyes burns dark into frustration after a few squeezes. Eddie huffs in annoyance at the fact that he’s only getting handfuls of padding.

“Easy, tiger. Want this off too?”

Heartened by the lack of ridicule, he feels safe. Regardless, Eddie fails to articulate more than a few words, his heart lodged in his throat. “If that’s okay with you.” 

“Come sit,” You suggest, taking his hand in yours to lead him to sit on the edge of the bed.

As he sits, Eddie thanks himself for having washed his sheets for tonight, despite never imagining that this would happen.

When you release his hand, both of them return to the plush of your waist, making himself at home there. The straps of your unhooked bra drape loosely on your arms, and his pupils dilate as the foam cups gradually gain distance from your body. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie says under his breath, his bottom lip shining after a swift swipe of his tongue.

Your hips receive an involuntary squeeze as his patience begins to waver. He then slides his hands back up to your ribs, using his thumb followed by the heel of his palms to graze the bottom of your breasts.

With a sigh of relief, Eddie no longer has to daydream about what they might look like. His beautiful brown eyes roam over your body like you’re a masterpiece, a sculpture carved from stone solely for him to admire endlessly. Savoring the moment, he takes his time to appreciate every second. Eddie doesn’t take your trust for granted.

After a minute or two, you scoot backward onto the mattress toward the pillows. “Let’s get more comfortable.”

He watches you recline half-naked on his bed, and his belly swirls at the sight. Eddie follows suit, crawling to you. Now positioned between your legs, Eddie hesitates as he looks down at you, your hips not making any contact.

His touch resumes at your waist, but this time he’s stroking the expanse of your tummy; it inadvertently brings comfort to both you and him. Until this moment, he’s never had the chance to see the tiny details on your face up close—the distinct aspects that compose your sheer beauty.

Eddie’s hazelnut curls hang over his ears as his gaze trails over your neck and chest. His intense adoration makes you want to hide, but the unease is melted away when he captures your lips with his own. Eddie feels like it’s already been too long since he last kissed you, the deprivation like that of extreme thirst.

Goosebumps prickle his fully dressed form, a surge of belonging filling the cracks in the surface of his heart. Timid pecking is a thing of the past, each kiss more fervid than the one before it. The wet click of your lips drowns out the inhibitions buzzing in his ears.

Eddie’s large hand paws at your breast, his thumb playing with your pebbled nipple, drawing a whine from the back of your throat. You tug him closer by his jeans, bringing his hips down against yours. Regardless of the denim barrier, this causes a change in him. When you lift your hips against Eddie, he grinds back just as needily.

As your lips part, he begins a trail of affection along your cheek, jaw, and down your neck. When Eddie reaches your collarbones, his mouth moves hurriedly. He’s itching to fulfill the longing that’s been something he’s imagined plenty of times before. Kissing every inch in his descent, Eddie hunches over and takes your nipple into his mouth.

The melodious sound that pours from you makes him painfully harder. His cock strains against the metal zipper of his jeans, fighting to defy the taut material. You arch into his mouth, and Eddie continues to grind against the apex of your thighs.

He licks his way across to give much-needed attention to your opposite breast, all the while maintaining stimulation on the other with his thumb. Eddie suckles and flicks his tongue, his breath hitting your bare skin like a sweltering midsummer heat wave.

The reciprocity of sincerity is blowing his mind; the way it feels to have your hands weaving through his hair. There’s a slight tug when your fingers catch on a knot, and the sting only fans the flames burning in his lower belly.

Eddie releases your nipple, leaving it bereft of the heat of his mouth. Following his previously explored path up your chest and neck, he bashfully looks into your eyes. “Could I, uh, kiss you down there, too?”

“Normally I’d have to ask for head. Are you sure?”

The melted milk chocolate of his irises practically drips off of his lashes as he blinks at you. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”

“I’m not entirely convinced,” You coax him playfully.

“I’ll just have to prove how starving I am then, won’t I?” Eddie quips, moving out of the way to remove your skirt. As he does, the waistband slips from your hips and he slides it off your legs.

You’re in nothing but your panties and the white cotton is not particularly sexy, but they sure are familiar. That day at the laundromat, Eddie never imagined he’d see you in this exact pair at some point. He wonders if you did.

His fingertips tap their way up your thighs until they reach the band of your underwear. You look so cute with your hands resting across your belly like an awaiting princess—his princess.

Much like the skirt before it, the garment is tugged down the curvature of your legs. Your knees knock together as your legs reflexively close. Meanwhile, Eddie is mesmerized by the damp patch on panties hanging from his fist.

“You wanna keep 'em?”

Eddie nods with feigned innocence. These would go to good use, he thinks. 

“They’re all yours,” You grant his wish.

“I feel so spoiled,” he says while tucking them into his back pocket for safekeeping. Then, Eddie redirects his attention to the living art laid out before him. “Especially for getting to see you like this,” he drags his fingertips along the outside of your calves until they reach your knees.

Your legs fall open, proudly putting your glistening cunt on display for him. 

“Fuck,” Eddie says, moon-eyed. He repositions himself between your legs, lying on his stomach. Drool pools on his tongue, his mouth just inches away from your body. With one arm wrapped under your thigh, Eddie uses a finger on his free hand to collect the wetness that’s all for him.

“Don’t be a tease,” You fuss.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Eddie responds, ready to put his new skill to use. It starts with a testing press of his lips against your clit. He works his way lower, mouthing at you messily, making out with your cunt. Eddie licks his lips and rests his cheek against your inner thigh. “Can I use my fingers too?”

“Yeah, just take it slow,” You gather his hair and keep it out of his face so it doesn’t get in the way.

Eddie glides two digits through your folds, admiring the way the pads of his fingers glisten with the mix of your slick and his spit. Slowly, he eases his two fingers into your entrance. They sink deeper without facing resistance, and you soak him down to his bottom knuckles. Eddie looks up at you from between your legs, amazed. “You’re so wet.”

You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows to meet his gaze. “You own a mirror, don’t you? How could I not be.”

Flattered, Eddie smiles. He draws his fingers back before plunging them into you a little faster this time, though not by much. As you lay back and get comfortable, you instinctively roll your hips downward with each thrust of his fingers.

With his cheek still resting on the inside of your thigh, he’s unable to bring himself to speed up, downright mesmerized by the sensation of your velvety walls squeezing around his fingers. When he accidentally flexes and curls them upward, it elicits a pretty gasp from you.

Eddie’s gaze flits up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What was that?” he teases and does it again, deliberately. “Did you say something?”

You moan, “That feels amazing,” You run your hand up your belly to your breast, massaging yourself in tandem with his improved technique.

He finds a steady tempo, rubbing the spot that makes your nerves flare. With nothing else on his mind, Eddie is fully engrossed as he drives his digits into you. Your fingers suddenly appear before him to rub your clit for added stimulation.

“Oh my god,” You moan unabashedly, arching your back off of the bed in response to the heightened ecstasy.

“You like that?” Eddie looks up at you, feeling a rush of pride as you writhe.

“Yes- fuck, I’m almost there.”

Eddie boldly nudges your hand away with his nose, swiftly replacing your fingers with his tongue, flicking it passionately.

Your moans fill his ears as he laps at you, enjoying the way you taste when you unravel. He’s so in the zone that he fails to realize you’ve already reached your peak and become overstimulated.

You squirm in his grip, gently pushing his forehead away. “Eddie, Eddie!”

“Yeah?” His fingers stop abruptly, and he looks at you with doe-like eyes, your glossy sugar smeared all over his lips and chin.

“It’s too much,” You say exhaustedly.

“Shit, my bad,” Eddie frowns, disappointed that his fun has come to an end. He slowly withdraws his digits, admiring the way you’ve coated them. He drags his fingers down his tongue like your arousal is cake batter from a bowl. A low hum emanates from Eddie as he sucks them clean, inadvertently making a show of it. “God, your pussy tastes good. Even better than I dreamed it would.”

“Come here,” You beckon him, smiling blissfully.

Eddie wastes no time getting onto his hands and knees and crawls up between your legs. Hovering over you, he gazes into your eyes, cheeks dimpled. “I made you cum.”

“I can’t remember the last time I came that hard either,” you chuckle, noticing the sheen on his face. You grab your discarded shirt to wipe it off. “Here, let me-”

“No!” Eddie angles out of your reach, his brow furrowed. Using his still-sticky fingers, he wipes at his lips and chin, licking his digits clean once more. “Can’t let it go to waste.”

After you tuck his frizzy curls behind his ears, Eddie’s tender grin fades. Your hands slowly move down his pecs to his belt, and you tug at the metal buckle. Just as you free the leather from the prong, he stops you.

“Uh- wait.” The hesitance in his voice brings your pursuit to a halt. The way you shrink back causes his heart to squeeze.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to go all the way if you’re not ready.”

“It’s not that. Believe me,” Eddie reassures you. He brings a hand to the side of your face and strokes your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m just worried that you’ll never wanna see me again ‘cause I'm so terrible in bed.”

Your shoulders raise and lower with the deep breath that you take. “You said you want to make me feel good, right?”

“More than anything,” Eddie declares in a heartbeat.

“Your cock would.”

Eddie nearly shudders and his voice burns raspy. “Yeah? You want it?”

You hook your fingers through his belt loops and tug, staring back at him intensely. “Not want. I need you inside me.”

“Christ,” he gulps and presses his hips forcefully against yours, dampening the denim. Eddie lowers his mouth to your shoulder and kisses it. “I wanna know what it feels like so bad.”

You turn your head and nibble his earlobe. “Let’s take care of that, shall we?” When your hands return to his partially undone belt, Eddie doesn’t intervene this time.

“I don’t have protection though.”

Blindly, you unbutton and unzip his jeans. “Side pocket of my purse.”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away and awkwardly scoots backward off the bed. His pants hang low on his slender hips, exposing the snug elastic band of his blue plaid boxers. After finding the condom, he inspects it. “I have no fucking clue how to use this.”

Sitting up, you hold your hand out. “I can put it on you if you want.”

Eddie hands it to you, then it occurs to him that he’s still fully dressed. While you’re tearing the foil package, he yanks down his jeans and kicks them away, his belt jangling. Only a few buttons are undone from the neck before he gets impatient. Eddie tears his shirt over his head, leaving his mane disheveled.

He pulls at the waistband of his precum-soaked boxers indecisively, but the sight of your beautiful naked body reminds him that it’s only fair. Eddie pulls them down and his anxiety has caused him to go partially soft. When you look at him, he wishes the world would swallow him whole. 

Your eyes rake across his slim frame, then meet his eyes instead of drifting below his waist. Eddie climbs back onto the bed, sitting on his haunches. You crawl onto your knees to join him and pull his body against yours, kissing him.

Mumbling against your lips, he tries to apologize for already failing you by being unable to stay hard, but his words falter as the kiss deepens, his worries becoming an afterthought. Eddie grips your waist, and the sensation of your breasts pressing against his bare chest makes him feel woozy. As soon as you break the kiss, he’s immediately filled with fear once more. “If it’s small or it looks weird, don’t tell me.”

You effectively distract him from his insecurities by trailing your lips down his pulse, dragging your teeth along the supple skin there. Eddie grips your ass harshly, a shaky sound pouring from his throat as you kiss your way down his body. He watches, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

As you finally look at his shy cock, you run your palms up and down the sparse hair on his outer thighs. “You’re the perfect size for me,” You compliment him with a smile. 

“I am?”

You suck a bruise on the pale skin of his waist. “Yeah, you are.” 

Eddie’s eyes close, his hands resting on your shoulders as he focuses on the sensation of you licking and biting him. Lost in the feeling rather than inside of his head, Eddie’s cock gradually rouses.

Having previously set it aside, you grab the condom. “Hold it still for me, please.”

“O-Okay,” he secures it at the base, his palm covering the trimmed thatch of curls. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” With one hand, you fit the band around the tip, and with your other, you roll the latex down his shaft. That alone causes Eddie’s mouth to fall open, a ghosted moan tumbling from his lips.

“There, easy peasy,” Sitting back up and wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him flush against you. His wrapped, twitching cock is trapped between your bodies. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

“I’m not sure I could if I tried,” Eddie says, his eyes flitting between yours. “Is this really happening?”

“It’s happening,” After kissing the tip of his nose, you settle back bringing him down with you to get comfortable, your head resting on the pillow.

Eddie returns to the previous position, this time with your legs hiked around his hips, causing his cock to rub against your mound. Afraid of poking around too much, he asks, “Would you do the honors, m’lady?”

“Why, of course,” you say with a giggle. You guide the head of his cock right where it needs to be and look into Eddie’s eyes. “Go ahead.”

He swallows hard and inches his hips forward, the tip of his cock breaching your entrance. Eddie sinks until he’s halfway sheathed by the hot embrace of your cunt. As he pushes the rest of the way in, his jaw falls slack.

“You doing okay?” You soothingly stroke the bulging veins on his forearms.

“Mhm,” Eddie mumbles with his lips rolled inward. After a few seconds without moving, he draws his hips back and then drives them forward. The moan that rips from his chest is unholy.

After two or three agonizingly slow and experimental thrusts, the motion comes naturally to him after all that practice he’s gotten from humping his poor pillow in this very spot. “Fuck me,” The hand that isn’t supporting Eddie’s weight fists at the bed sheets as he thrusts repeatedly, falling into a slow and steady pace. “Jesus fucking fuck.”

“Look at you go,” you moan out. “It feels amazing, doesn’t it?”

“Feels… god, you feel incredible,” Eddie grunts, propping himself up on both hands. His hair hangs down, swaying with the tempo of his hips. In this position, he can watch the bounce of your body with each thrust and he’s doing just that.

The grazing of your fingernails along his flexing hips throws off his pace. It weakens him, especially when you’re looking at him the way you are. Eddie is so consumed by the feeling of you wrapped around him that he can’t be self-conscious about the fact that he’s moaning every time he sinks back into you.

The shame of virginity has been lifted away as Eddie experiences this night of firsts with the girl he’s crazy about. Eddie is struggling to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss a single second of this. He’s captivated by the way you’re watching his length disappear inside you over and over.

You look stunning lying on his pillow, anchoring his body to yours. Before tonight, he considered the concept of moaning someone's name to be cliché because it only happens in the movies. But Eddie’s had a change of heart because he can’t stop saying yours. It’s all of you right here, right now, all over, making a man out of him.

His muscles begin to tremble, and he lowers himself onto his forearms. Eddie rests his forehead against yours, his hips stuttering. “I’m so close, baby. I don’t wanna cum,” He slows his movement to stave off his orgasm.

“I want you to,” You express while gliding your hands down his muscular back.

“No,” Eddie protests, ceasing his thrusts entirely. “I want you to cum again first.”

“This isn’t about me.”

 “Are you shitting me? It’s always been about you,” he pulls back to look into your eyes. “I’d do anything for you, you’re so damn worth it.”

Just before you have the chance to respond, Eddie unexpectedly rolls his hips. With one hand, he thumbs at your clit, watching how your eyes roll back. He doesn’t even have to look down to see the mess you’re making because he can hear it.

Eddie’s moans dance with yours as he pushes his knees forward, adjusting the angle of his hips to mimic a ‘come hither’ motion. He knows he’s found the spot he discovered prior when your legs spasm around him. In response, Eddie rubs your clit harder.

The way your walls tighten makes it all that more difficult for him to hold back. He’s on the cusp, his abs tensing as he tries to fight it. Your hand flies above you to push against the headboard, your other one occupied with gripping his flexing waist.

“Cum for me,” Eddie growls, frustrated with himself as he teeters on the edge, just seconds away from spilling into the condom.

Your brows furrow and your eyes squeeze shut, a rush of air getting caught in your throat as you climax.

“Yeahhh, that’s it,” Eddie’s abdominal muscles tense to their limit. “Oh- fuck,” His voice pitches higher.

“I’m yours,” You moan prettily and guide him down, letting him bury his face in your neck to give his arms a well-deserved rest.

“All mine,” Eddie says between his labored breaths. He grips and lifts your hips while you kiss his shoulder. Losing their previous steadiness, his strokes become shorter and more sporadic. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. I’m gonna cuh- uh- mmm.”

Eddie lets out a whimper as he delivers two unsteady thrusts before slamming his hips against you, burying himself as he orgasms. His ass tenses and ripples, the muscles contracting as he rides out his high.

Panting loudly, Eddie stills his movements completely and props himself up to look down at you. “Jesus Christ. After that, I wanna have you for dinner every day,” he says against your cheek before kissing it. “As a snack in the middle of the night,” Eddie adds, kissing your temple. “Shit, you’d be good for breakfast too. It’s the most important meal of the day, y’know.”

You let out a winded giggle, your bodies sticking together as he struggles to keep himself propped up.

“Sweetheart, can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” You tease and smile wide when he rolls his eyes and snorts.

Eddie takes your hand, flattening your palm against his chest so that you can feel how vigorously his heart is beating. “Is this what being in love feels like?” He asks tearfully.

“Yeah,” you nod, placing his hand over your own heart that’s thudding just as hard. “Just like this.”

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[tender-rosiey]

Could you please do a part 2 of when the jjk men make you scared??

Like how they apologise and all

HE MAKES UP WITH YOU - pt 1

⤷ includes: gojo, geto; nanami, sukuna

a/n: I actually finished this also f!reader with sukuna but the rest are gn!reader

GOJO SATORU:

you let out a shaky breath as you snuggle deeper into shoko’s embrace. she comforts you, “it will be okay, I promise.”

“that asshole better come and apologize or I am so going to make him pay,” she grumbles while rubbing soothing circles on your back.

the bell rings and your body tenses up, “shoko, tell him to go away.”

“y/n, you guys need to talk it out,” she sighs, “but if you really don’t want to talk to him now then tell me.”

you sit up and shake your head. you rub your eyes and take a deep breath, “you can let him in if you want.”

she nods and heads to open the door. she is met with gojo, who must’ve been crying for a while because of the way his eyes are puffy.

“you better solve this, gojo,” she says, lightly elbowing him, and he just nods.

he walks in and sees you, “…y/n?”

you don’t turn to look at him, instead holding your hands tightly and looking at the ground. he cautiously makes his way to you and kneels down.

he slowly places his hand on top of your own and lets out a small sigh of relief when you don’t pull away. he starts rubbing your hand with his thumb, “I am sorry about what I did.”

you hum and he continues, “I shouldn’t have reacted that way and shouldn’t have dismissed everything you’ve done.”

“your work is just as important to you as mine is and I shouldn’t belittle you nor what you do,” he shakily says and rests his forehead on your knee.

you pull your hand away gently and gojo looks at you, eyes wide and full of worry. he seems a few moments away from crying once again, but he closes his eyes, the moment your hand makes contact with his hair.

you scratch his scalp and play with his hair, “satoru.”

“yeah?”

“please, try your best not to lash out on me like that,” your other hand rubs his cheek, “I am your equal not an outlet for you.”

he nods, and you hear a sniffle.

“I understand what you’re doing is really time consuming, but can we maybe have a day for ourselves every couple of weeks or so?” you ask softly, voice filled with hope.

he nods once again and snuggles into your stomach as he wraps his arms around you.

“y/n.”

you hum and he presses a kiss to your stomach, “I love you so much.”

“me too,” you press a kiss as well to his head.

“can you guys take this to your house?” shoko complains, lighting up a cigarette, “my house is not a studio for romance movies.”

NANAMI KENTO:

you’ve lost track of how many hours you’ve been crying alone. you didn’t move from the living room, just to be close to the main door so you can hear and see your husband enter safely.

but is he even coming back? you hoped he would. the way you shielded yourself from him was merely a reflex; you never once thought nanami would hit you and you know that he never will.

but would he know that? he can’t do anything except believe his eyes. all you can do is wait for him to come back and explain to him what happened.

your head snaps at the sounds of key’s jiggling. the door soon opens to reveal your husband in all his glory; once his gaze lands on you, his eyes widen in shock, “y/n? what are you doing on the ground?—“

you scramble out of your place and throw yourself on him and wrap your arms around him tightly, “I am sorry! I am so sorry!”

his arms instantly wrap themselves around you as you sob violently into his shirt, “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I-I know you would never hit me! please don’t be mad at me!”

he pets your hair, “sweetheart, I was never mad,” he places his hands under your thighs and picks you up while you naturally wrap your arms around his neck tighter.

“t-then? why did you leave?” you sniffle.

he sighs and presses a chaste kiss to your neck, “I was disappointed in myself that I made you react like that and I wanted to give both of us time to calm down.”

“I am sorry for the distress I caused you,” he murmurs pressing another kiss to your shoulder.

you stay in his embrace for a while before you speak up, “…you can let me down if you want.”

he shakes his head, “I want to hold you for a bit.”

you laugh lightly, “we can do that on the bed, you know,” a smile graces your lips, “like cuddle and stuff.”

you feel him smile into your shoulder before nodding. he walks towards your bedroom and gently places you on the bed; he lays beside you and pulls you to his chest.

he strokes your cheek, “your beauty is out of this world.”

“aw, you only love me for my body?” you pout and he rolls his eyes.

“I love you for everything that makes you you.”

“that’s a bit cheesy, is it not?” you giggle and he smiles.

he sighs in content, “I guess it is.”

GETO SUGURU:

you’re still in his arms, violently shaking and the tears never stop rolling down your face. you feel a wet batch on your shoulder and realize that your husband is crying as well.

“love, y-you know I would never hurt you, right?” he lifts your face to face his own, “r-right?”

he bites back a sob before he rests his forehead on your shoulder. he intertwines your hands together, before pleading softly “p-please don’t leave me.”

you did not move an inch since he held your face, it’s like talking to a living corpse.

“y-y/n, please answer me.”

“sugu-ru,” your voice is hoarse and he pulls back at the sound of your voice.

“ye-yes?”

“I am scared,” you admit, “really scared.”

he is hurt, you can tell, but you’re so terrified. this is the man you vowed to spend the rest of your life with, and you can’t just live with someone you consider a monster.

his hand reaches for your cheek but you pull back slightly and his hand instantly goes back to his side. he is looking at the ground, his tears never stopped either, “i would never hurt you.”

“it’s not o-only about me,” you breathe in, “do you know how scarring it is to see your gentle husband torturing someone that way? can you imagine how I feel?”

he shakes his head, “if you really want to divorce me, then so be it,” he rubs his eyes, “I don’t want you to be unhappy and always on edge by my side.”

he takes a deep breath before standing up and giving you his back, “you can decide to do whatever you want; I will be waiting for your decision.”

“just know,” he looks back at you with a sad smile, “my arms are always open for you.”

geto starts walking towards his house once again with a heavy heart. oh how he hopes you will come back to him and smile like you used to. but is that even possible?

his eyes widen at the arms that gently wrap themselves around him. he feels you squeeze him lightly before you speak up softly, “I am willing to t-try.”

he hears you sniffle and a small smile appears on his face before his tears start falling down his face once again, “can I turn and hug you?”

you nod and quickly he turns and engulfs you, burying his face in your shoulder, “thank you, thank you for giving me another chance!”

you nod lightly and snuggle into his embrace.

first and foremost, this was your husband and there was no denying that you loved him. perhaps there was a way for the both of you to continue loving each other like you used to.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your knees weaken as you fall to the ground and brace yourself for the pain but it never comes. instead, you are completely fine.

“open your eyes,” you hear the king grumble.

you quickly do as told, you don’t even notice the tears on your face until he wipes them, “stop crying; don’t you remember what I said?”

you are shaking lightly so he takes your arms and pulls you lightly to your feet, steadying you.

he sighs, “you dumb girl, I said you were my favorite one; I wouldn’t just kill you like that.”

“t-thank you for your mercy, my lord!” you bow sharply and he simply straightens your back.

“calm down,” he holds your hand and pulls you back towards the palace.

for a while, the both of you walk in silence, “all of that for a couple of flowers?”

you nod shyly, “I like flowers a lot; they are my favorite thing in the world,” a fond smile is on your face at the end.

sukuna gives you a side-glance, “I am not your favorite?”

“you are my favorite person, my lord! I can never consider you a thing!” you splutter.

he keeps looking at you in silence before nodding and smirking, “good answer.”

soon, you are in his royal chamber. you bow down, “I must excuse myself now, my lord.”

he raises his eyebrow, “and that’s why?”

“I c-can’t possibly enter your room!”

he rolls his eyes, “I want you to spend the night with me.”

“but shouldn’t I get cleaned up first and—“

he pulls you inside, swiftly closing the door, “we are not going to do anything; you’re only going to sleep by my side tonight.”

you are speechless as you watch him get into bed.

“are you coming or not?”

you clumsily make your way to his bed and sit down beside him. he grumbles, “lay down.”

you do as told and now you’re laying face to face with the king of curses.

he wraps an arm around you and pulls you to his chest, “sleep.”

you nod, but sleep is far from coming to you.

instead, you lightly trace hearts on his chest, and silently hope that he doesn’t feel anything.

meanwhile, his cheeks are a light rosy red as he realizes what you’re tracing.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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[lexsssu]

Light (Sung Jinwoo)

TAGS: Jinwoo/Wife!reader, a/b/o dynamics, yandere, possessive behavior, death threats, breeding, impregnation, oneshot Ao3 ver.

‘E-Rank Hunter’ Sung Jinwoo, a title that followed him wherever he went.

Despite being a Hunter, his power was barely above an ordinary human aside from his slightly more durable constitution and slightly increased healing factor. 

So it’s only natural that he’d always get hurt. Hell, he’d even nearly gotten killed several times already too!

It’s not that Jinwoo wanted to be a Hunter in the first place, because aside from the danger, others also made fun of him for his weakness. Even the pay was surprisingly not that great.

Unfortunately, someone in his mid-20s who lacked any viable skills that could land him a normal, stable job could only work for the Hunter’s Association as one of their Hunters thanks to their medical aid. Had it not been for that, he wouldn’t have been able to afford the millions of won in medical bills he owed to the hospital that took care of his mother. 

It’s not even just his mother that he had to provide for, but there was also his little sister and…

“Look Yeonjin, it’s Papa!”

Worn out from another hard days’ work, E-Rank Hunter Sung Jinwoo felt all the fatigue in his body seemingly melt away into nothingness as the sight and scent of his wife and child soothed his weary soul.

“Baba!” Yeonjin babbled excitedly as his father made a beeline straight towards you both.

“Welcome home, honey.” You press a kiss to the corner of his lips, smiling up at him with those beautiful eyes he always finds himself lost in.

This is why even if he didn’t want to, he would still participate in these Association supervised raids.

No sacrifice is too great when it comes to his loved ones and regardless of how incompetent he was as a Hunter, Jinwoo will do everything in his power to ensure that they are cared and provided for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been with Sung Jinwoo ever since you were both just awkward teenagers in high school. When his mother succumbed to Eternal Slumber and left the two siblings to fend for themselves, instead of leaving you surprised Jinwoo and moved into their cozy little home and took it upon yourself to keep the house running.

While Jinwoo did his best to provide for the family’s needs, you would ensure that Jinah and the house was taken care of, this of course also included the man himself whenever he came home from a raid. You even managed to get a remote job that helped with the bills in spite of juggling that with your online college classes as well. 

You and Jinwoo had gone through so much together over the past decade so was it any surprise you’d end up married and with a child? 

Former friends and schoolmates might have tried to dissuade you time and time again to leave him, pitying you for spending your youth making ends meet and watching over your comatose mother-in-law, Jinah, and now your own baby.

But you don’t need their ‘advice’ when it all basically boiled down to having you leave your family because you ‘deserved better.’

They are already what’s best for you.

Why can’t they see that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ How are you and Sung Jinwoo? Sorry I couldn’t check up on you guys sooner. Life’s been pretty hectic on my end.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t attend your baby shower before! I had an important appointment that I couldn’t bail out on back then. Why don’t we go out for coffee to catch up?”

“...way too long since we last got together! Our whole class is gonna have a reunion this weekend. Everyone will be stoked to see you and Sung Jinwoo there— ”

Beep.

You don’t have the chance to reply to the latest call you received from another ‘old friend’ when your husband pressed the ‘end’ button in one swift movement. Though his face looked impassive, his scent clearly revealed his agitation…not to mention the shadows that seemed to curl spread from the soles of his feet.

“First they tell you that I’m not good enough for you and that you should leave me, but now they’re all tripping over themselves just to get to me through you…” His lips stretched into a snarl, power rolling off of him in waves at their blatant shamelessness.

Jinwoo’s inner alpha snorted and growled, the mere thought of these impertinent swine daring to involve themselves with his mate even if to gain some sort of favor from him made him see red. 

How dare they?! He will rip and tear into their bodies and reap their souls to become his puppets if they so much as even approach you. Did they think he was bound by the rules of ordinary mortals? Foolish! 

The hunter’s alpha grinned diabolically, cackling from within the confines of his soul at thought of giving them their just desserts.  

“My big, strong alpha…Always willing to jump into the fray to provide for and protect us…How can I even think about choosing anyone else?” You crooned and purred at him, the soft sounds and your calming scent enveloping him and taming the shadows that once agitatedly tried to claw their way out of him to carry out his will. 

Burrowing into his arms, you embrace his waist and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as best as you could considering his height had also shot up recently. A few soothing kisses and kitten licks against the skin of his neck later, Jinwoo’s darkness ceased pouring out of him.

Because now he focused on wholeheartedly pouring every last drop of cum into your quivering pussy, thrusting weakly even as his fat knot plugged you up. Your lower belly bulged with the amount of cum he’d already fucked into you, but he still didn’t think it was enough.

At the rate he was going, he’s definitely gonna knock you up again.

Not that you were complaining. It was about time for Yeonjin to finally have a sibling to love.

#lexsssu writes #solo leveling #solo leveling smut #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo smut #sung jinwoo x you #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x y/n #crossposted on ao3 #sung jinwoo x reader

[minhosbitterriver]

hi green, how are you doing ?? i hope everything’s alright<33

i hope you dont mind but i wanted to request something again >< i was wondering if you could write a smut with chan, but focus more on the aftercare ??

lets say he had a stressful week and during sex he decided to reselase his anger and stress on the reader, but they had a hard week themselves and just couldnt take it, so they decided to use their safeword and channie would be all like oh ?? and maybe the reader would even cry a little and be apologetic, because “i’m so sorry, i know you had a hard time, i just can’t do it today” saying that while clinging to him and seeking comfort >:((

and then chan would focus on making them feel safe, he would clean the up and reassure them that if completely fine and he's proud of them and just the whole aftercare part ><

if its too much then its completely fine !! please dont feel pressured to write it if its not your cup of tea<33

anyway, please take care !!😽

use of the safe word.

other works by green.

pairing: chan x female reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, rough and overwhelming sex, crying, bloody lip, aftercare, not proofread

rating: 18+

summary: chan had always been the sweetest human ever, but after you’d both had a rough week, you both find out that you had different ways of decompressing.

His fingers found their way to your throat while he groaned in your ear, squeezing in a way you usually adored as Chan thrusted in and out of you at a brutal pace. He was completely lost in his own world, moaning about how tight you felt around him and how he’d been thinking about having you like this all day after the stress he’s had to deal with over the course of several days. It was difficult to breathe for you, though, all of your senses seemingly going haywire as you attempted to ground yourself by gripping the sheets below you and trying to focus on his babbles of pleasure. However, instead of enjoying this moment with your lover like you normally would, your mind was a storm of frustration and stress that only increased with Chan’s speed.

It was too much for you — everything about this was overwhelming, including the guilt that followed your distressed thoughts. Chan had arrived home and immediately pulled you in for a rough kiss, and you had followed along because you were well aware of how rough it’s been for him recently and you figured you’d let him release it all on you before talking. Although nothing could’ve prepared you for the complete disconnect that plagued you — you didn’t feel seen or loved, he barely managed to remember some of the things he knew you liked while he chased his own orgasm. It wasn’t to say that he was doing it purposely, you knew that Chan loved you to insanity because this was strange for him.

Unwanted tears rolled down your cheeks, and you bit your lip harshly so as to not let him know of your state since his face was buried into the nape of your neck. His breath felt hot on your skin, and sharp pangs of pain shot up your body with each time Chan bottomed out. Your eyes were squeezed shut so as to prevent any more tears from spilling, and a whimper escaped your lips as your teeth broke skin.

Too much. Too much. I don’t like this!

Chan’s movements became slightly more erratic, which signifies that he was close to achieving his orgasm. But the room was spinning and you didn’t think you could take this roughness any longer.

“Channie, stop, stop, red light!”

All movements halted, dizzying you slightly. Chan pulled back immediately as his grip on your throat loosened and his eyes scanned your face with concern. The sobs were pushing their way out of you and the tears rolled down your cheeks freely and stained the pillow below your head. “I’m so sorry, Channie!”

“Oh— Wait, no, no don’t apologize,” Chan quickly responded, slowly pulling out of you so as to not overwhelm you further. His brows were furrowed, catching sight of your bloody bottom lip and your anguished expression. “What happened baby? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you continued to cry, your entire body shaking violently as you reached for your boyfriend. “I know you’ve been having a hard time, I just can’t take it today.”

He wrapped his muscled arms around your trembling body, kissing the top of your head as the beat of his heart seemed to ground you despite how erratic it was, bringing you back to reality. It was clear that he was still confused, and you were grateful that he wasn’t pushing for an explanation right away. Instead he shifted slightly so that he could place his calloused hand on your chest, applying a bit of pressure while inhaling and exhaling deeply. You followed his breathing pattern, slowly noticing that he’d pulled you into his lap at some point, cradling your body as though it was made of porcelain.

When your cries had slowed to a near stop, he moved his gaze onto your face — guilty eyes searching for any remaining distress. His thumb caressed your cheeks, drying your tears in the process as he attempted a soft smile.

“Baby?”

A shaky breath made its way past your lips, eyes glued to the crumpled sheets while you twiddle your thumbs in your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“No, angel, don’t apologize.” Chan spoke softly, yet his tone was stern. “Please don’t apologize, I’m proud of you for stopping me, okay?”

You could only nod meekly.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Nothing was said, but the shame arose in the form of choked sobs and Chan pulled you back onto his chest while rocking from side to side. His fingers carded through your hair gently as he hummed a nearly inaudible tune to calm you. This time, you were able to pull yourself quicker.

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” He didn’t wait for a response before he was lifting you up slightly and laying you on his side of your shared bed. The sound of his speedy footsteps that made their way to the kitchen were the only thing heard aside from your own ragged breathing.

You sat up when he returned with a cold glass of water in one hand and what looked like a warm, wet towel in the other. He handed you the water first, watching you intently as you hissed a bit as soon as your cut lip made contact with the coldness of your drink. You downed your drink in one go, your throat screeching in relief from how dry it had been until a moment ago.

“I’m going to clean you up a little bit, and then you should pee.”

His rough hands touched your shoulder lightly, nudging you so that you would lay back and spread your lips. The jolt that occurred as soon as you felt the warmth of the towel touch your core had your ears turning red in shame, you knew he wouldn’t purposely hurt you so there was no reason to act like this. You didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across his face.

As you peed, Chan was quietly filling up the bathtub and adding a lavender scented bath bomb to soothe your anxiety. You watched him work from the toilet in silence, lips set into a deep frown.

“It’s done baby,” Chan announced, turning to face you with a benign smile. “We should take care of your lip first though.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again as you pulled your knees up to your chest. “I haven’t done anything but add to your stress, and it shouldn’t have been like this. I could’ve lasted until you–”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Y/N.” Chan sounded so grave you couldn’t help but inhale sharply, eyes widening slightly. “Please don’t ever do that, we have a safe word for a reason. Always, always use it whenever you’re not having a good time. There’s really no hard feelings for me, what’s important for me is that you’re okay and that I don’t end up hurting you.”

You sniffed, bracing yourself as he neared you with a small cloth that had been dipped in antiseptics that made you hiss at the burn as soon as he dabbed it to your wound. He gently blew on your lip as an effort to lessen the pain.

“You’re so sweet to me.”

Chan pressed his lips against your forehead, lingering for a moment as if to make you feel his love through the simple action – and you did. A small smile made its way onto your face at last as his hands guided you to the bathtub, helping you get in before he knelt beside you.

The warmth of the deliciously scented water instantly relaxed your sore muscles, you sighed in relief. The light swishing sound of the water following your movements seemed to add to your newfound serenity, your eyes falling closed for only a second before the sense of something being missing began gnawing at your mind. You turned to find Chan sitting on the bathroom floor, eyes sparkling as he watched you while resting his chin on the edge of the bathtub. The corners of your mouth quirked up slightly at the sight, heart soaring.

“Join me.”

He shook his head, returning your smile.

“Channie,” you pouted. “You don’t have to feel guilty about what happened, I promised.”

He shook his head again, his smile remaining as he blinked rapidly as if to keep unshed tears at bay.

“Baby, please don’t feel guilty…you didn’t know.”

“No,” his voice cracked a bit. “I should’ve known, you bit your lip so hard you started bleeding. You were crying, you weren’t even able to tell me what happened. I should’ve noticed.”

Your hand touched the side of his face, droplets of water rolling down his smooth skin. “I should have told you I wasn’t okay as soon as I realized, baby. But we can still relax together, please, join me.”

Chan seemed hesitant for a few beats before sighing. He was already naked, so all he needed to do was take his place behind you. It was a tight fit, but you liked this kind of closeness as his arms wrapped themselves tightly around your torso and he rested his chin on your shoulder. Neither of you speak for a bit, basking in the tranquility of it all.

“I’m sorry.”

Not a word needed to be said, so you lifted his hand and kissed it once, twice, three times until he chuckled lightly. He pressed his own lips on your shoulder, and you felt a few tears grace the skin near his lips, so you reached up to his hair and scratched his head as a form of comfort.

“I knew that you were frustrated, stressed and all of that when you brought me to our room and I really thought I would be fine,” you finally explained, Chan had yet to remove his lips from you as he listened. “But I guess I didn’t take into consideration the shitty week I’ve been having too and it was just– a lot of it was just the new boss that arrived last Monday micromanaging every single breath I took, my workload was humongous compared to what I used to have before. He was so condescending, too, just doubting everything I said and asking my male coworkers to double check all the information I provided. I didn’t have a good time. And then we were having sex, and we barely exchanged a few words to each other before that, and it was just very overwhelming. I should’ve said something, so part of it was on me. I will make sure to be better next time, be more vocal about my needs and such.”

Chan lifted his head from your shoulder, cupping his hands to spill some of it onto your hair, massaging your scalp. “I’m sorry your new boss has been such an uptight dick all week…and I’m sorry I was so rough with you– especially without at least talking with you for a bit before, I’ll be sure to check in on you more often when we make love, especially if negative emotions are affecting either of us.”

“I really appreciate you, Channie.” You take his hands in yours, massaging them lightly and playing with his pretty fingers absentmindedly. “What about you, baby, what had you so worked up when you got here?”

Chan’s voice was soothing as he talked, the vibrations of his voice could be felt on his chest and it served as some kind of comforting sensation as you pressed yourself even more to him and closed your eyes.

word count: 1.9k 🛁 posted: 12 • 17 • 2023

💬 a note from green;

Thank you so much for this request, Merin. This was such an unexpectedly healing experience for me, and I thank you for it. You’ve only made two requests, but I can tell you that I’ve grown to love when you do since you always ask for such touching topics that aren’t mentioned or discussed enough. So please, request however many times as you’d like!

I hope you’re doing well, and I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

( 🏷️ ) taglist: @grandpafelixx , @agi-ppangx

#bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan angst #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan angst #bang chan #bang chan x you #skz #stray kids #green #straykids #skz fanfic #green’s fanfic #skz angst #skz x reader

[magicalgoblinz]

One Thing

Summary: You did it. Cazador's dead and now... Astarion is finding himself working through some big emotions. Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Word Count: 3.5 k Warnings: General angst, eluding to physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. Possibly ooc Astarion. Quickly edited. Song Recommendation: Never Let Me Go + Florence and the Machine Author's Note: First thing I've ever written for Astarion but I get the feeling it won't be the last. I really genuinely just wanted to get this idea out of my brain even if it's a bit strange and not all that amazing haha.

It had been a long day. Perhaps one of the longest you and your party had endured yet, or... at least it felt that way. It wasn't hard on your body like the goblin fight had been, nor had it been arcanely exhaustive like chasing that damned hag was. No, standing in the halls of Cazador's palace brought a different type of exhaustion. Passing through the spaces that your lover had once stalked attempting to go unseen by his master, seeing the sights of the spaces he was kept, smelling the decay, the putridness that no doubt lingered in the meals he was forced to partake in.

Every sight, smell, and sound you had come across weighed heavily on you. Even now as you sat in the plush comfort that was Elfsong Inn, freshly washed, the scents lingered in your nose and left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You pushed around the hastily prepared hash in your bowl, frown bared for everyone to see. Your thoughts were only for him. Every second of silence you could hear his sobs in that moment. The cries pulled from his very core, the kind of cries you could imagine he had dreamed of releasing for so long through every moment of torture he was subjected to. There was no way to imagine all of the atrocities he had suffered, yet somehow being left with nothing made every idea that flitted past your mind's eye so much worse.

You for so long had wished to weep for him. Weep for the time he had lost. Weep for the pain he must have felt in having to stand on the outside wondering if his family and friends ever thought of him again after he passed on. Weep for the crushed hopes for the future he had at one time had.

But what good would your tears do him now?

Cazador was dead.

And more importantly... Astarion was free.

So why did it all still feel so... excruciatingly heavy?

"Ts'ka --- eat and do not play. You need your strength for tomorrow." Lae'zel pushed from her lounging position on the floor.

"Have some heart, Lae'zel. It’s been a very difficult day." Wyll was quick to defend upon seeing the way your expression soured at the thought of eating. "Y/n, had to assist our resident vampire through some very hard things today. Including walking through where he had been kept prisoner. Imagine having to do the same with your lover." He said with a gesture towards Lae'zel.

"If I had a lover they would be able to care for themselves; it would be the first thing I looked for in a mate. A prowess to stay alive in battle like my own is the only thing that is truly attractive." Lae'zel said with a lifted chin.

Wyll's lips parted as if to say something more but began to shake his head, there was no fighting with La'zel. She didn't dig her heels in when it came to opinions, no her entire feet were buried. "Speaking of Astarion, where is he?" He eventually asked, changing the focus of the conversation.

"I believe he went for a bath." Shadowheart interjected, "He said something about not being able to stand having his beauty mired... you know how he is." She said, not lifting her eyes from her bowl with a small wave of her spoon that was held in delicate fingers.

Her saying this seemed to pull your eyes towards the door of the wash room. It had been a while since he left now that you thought about it. Your brows lowered a bit in thought; Astarion deserved his space right now, but you still couldn't help but want to hold his hand and not let it go after everything that had happened today. Maybe he wouldn't want that though, not with what you did today.

That look in his eyes...

Now that he had the time to actually think about what you did, what you talked him into doing; would he feel betrayed?

You had promised him you'd help him get that power he so desired, but when that chance came you changed your mind.

The idea of Astarion no longer trusting you hurt more than imagining him ending whatever it was the two of you had. The worries made your expression sullen even more, looking down at your bowl with a deeper pit growing in your stomach. Did you really want to find out?

Out of the blue, there is a light nudge to your arm. The little touch is enough to pull you back up from your descent into grieving something you hadn't even lost yet. With a glance to your right you find Karlach with a bottle outstretched to you. "I think we could all use a little drink tonight... but especially Astarion." She said warmly, "Perhaps you should see if he wants some?" She continued with a little jerk of her head towards the closed doors. Her tone made it all to clear that your inner turmoil was written out on your face for everyone to see.

A sigh escaped your throat as you debated on whether or not that was a good idea but the way Karlach began to lazily swing the bottle back and forth with her hand triggered something in your mind that made you reach out and take it in one smooth movement.

It couldn't hurt to check in on him?

Could it?

Astarion's head was rested back, hanging over the edge of the bath he sat in. The water had lost the majority of its warmth, and his hand had pruned but he made no movements to get out. Eyes transfixed on the dancing flames in the fireplace at the side of the room. Every twist of orange and lift of a spark made his mind lurch through another memory; they all seemed to be coming back to him now, one by one. His mind shuddered from the thought of a blade pressed into his skin, carving, etching, his skin becoming the canvas for a dastardly design that he wouldn't understand for years.

Funnily, the recollection of pain wasn't what bothered him. It was having to recall his own voice struggling not to escape his lips throughout the entire gut-wrenching experience that made his hand ball into a fist.

With a pop and crackle of the wood Astarion's memories would carry on to something else.

His ears ringing, echoing the silence of that tomb. Gods above that tomb. That year spent in silence. Those months spent starving. The way his hands bled from trying ever so desperately to escape. Over what...? A boy that he couldn't bear to steal the life away from.

Astarion took in a sharp breath as he tried to shake away the thought, as he sat up.

But still the memories continued to bleed through. The faces of all those people he had brought to Cazador, he could see them in his mind's eye. The memories of bedding some of them, cycling through his head in a complete sequence even though they were spread across centuries. A flash of a young human woman who excitedly spun in a brand new red dress that she was ever so excited to show off. The pale blue of a nervous elf man's eyes as they darted around the room the second Astarion approached. Seeing the tattoos and the scars spread across the back of a dwarven sailor who stretched after returning to the mainland after a long voyage. The shine of a coy tiefling woman's smile as she attempted to steal his coin purse from his pocket. So many lives, so many people. At what point did he begin to stop caring? Who was it that he pulled by the wrist back to a dreary room that made him start drifting away any time he had to become intimate? Or was it any of them at all?

His features twisted into an expression of disgust the second his mind started going down that path. There was no amount of Cazador being dead that made those memories better. In a snap his balled up hands lifted to rub his eyes in annoyance. If only Astarion could wash out his eyes and his mind and start anew. If only.

And to think... he had wanted this for so long.

He had dreamt about the day he'd be able to have the cathartic feeling of stabbing Cazador, again, and again, and again. And now that it had come and gone... he wished he could have kept going forever. Fuck, he wished he had. After everything Cazador had done to him, the bastard deserved so much worse than to bleed out on that cold floor. He deserved to suffer just as much as Astarion had, if not more.

Astarion couldn't help but wish that he had ignored everyone and continued the ritual as a perfect slap in the face to Cazador. Continued that ritual, so for the first time in all these years... he'd be safe. Entirely safe. And the loss of that made his chest ache, he was so close to crying all over again.

But then...

Tap, tap, tap

"Astarion," Your voice started from just beyond the doors. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just um... wanted to check in. Karlach thought you might need a drink."

There was you.

Astarion's head lifted from his hands as he took in a deep breath. He tried to shove all those emotions back down again, to put the cork back in the bottle before they could really bleed out into him properly. His gaze lingering on the door, lips unmoving.

"Didn't you hear him? If you complete the ritual, you'll be consumed, Astarion." You had said with a look of sincere terror in your eyes. The look wasn't foreign to him... but perhaps different? People had been scared of him before, oh people had been terrified once they realized what he was. But just how many people had been scared for him? That... he didn't know.

He couldn't remember his exact words in reply now, the tension and adrenaline leaving them in a silent part of his mind but what he did recall was the way you looked at him. It stung. It stung so much more than the little voice in the back of his mind screaming that you were breaking your promise.

You promised to help him ascend. You swore you would help him ascend. You said---

Gods that look. Astarion couldn’t shake it.

The way your eyes seemed to plead with him before you had even opened your mouth. Begging him to reconsider. "I know you think this will set you free, but it won't." Your voice was so gentle, but still so desperate. "This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador. Is that really what you want?"

You were right, as much as he hated it. You were always right.

But more than that. As he thought about it now, he recognized something that he hadn't in that moment...

Just outside the door you stood listening, hoping to hear something, anything. Your thumb fumbled with the cork of the bottle nervously. This was a bad idea wasn't it? He needed more time. This was too soon to try and come see him. Gods... what if he really did hate you for what you did. You started to shake your head, "...I'm going to take that as a no. I'll um..." you started lightly, trying not to have your worry show through in your words. "I'm sorry again for interrupting. I'll see you when you're finished, my darling."

Once more. You wanted to call him that one more time before he had a chance to break things off.

"Come in."

Your eyes couldn't help but widen ever so slightly, hand moving to the handle before cautiously pushing the door open and poking your head in. From this angle you could see Astarion's side profile, the good majority of the grime and blood from the day having been washed away, though his clothes that sat off to the side on a bench, were stained a deep red that would take ages to remove, if it ever came out at all. His eyes soon looked your way tiredly. As an instinct you quickly held up the bottle you had brought him, no words coming to follow it, they all seemed to have gone into hiding the second his eyes landed on you.

"Are you planning on bringing the bottle here my sweet, or to just... swing it around like an idiot?" He asked in a long drawn out way, a tone that felt like he was trying to maintain a sense of normalcy for you, but at this point in your adventure together the look in his eyes was more than enough to tell you that he was working through something.

You were entirely taken aback by the gentle name used, a little bit of relief seeping into your chest. "Y-you want me to come in?"

"Was that not what I said?"

Your lips parted, deciding not to speak just yet and instead closing the door behind you. "I'm sorry... I just didn't want to overstep with you, you know… washing and all." You said slowly, acting as if you weren’t both adults – who had on more than occasion – slept together.

Even now, even after seeing him at his lowest today, you were still trying to respect whatever boundaries he had. The thought made Astarion close his eyes and let out a soft laugh, "Darling, you've seen me naked before, it's fine." He assured, "Now...please, for the love of gore and everything soaked in blood, can you bring me that bottle."

There was no reluctance now, carrying yourself to his side with ease. As you approached you couldn't help but notice that his hair was still matted thick with blood in places. All this time he clearly had just been lost in his thoughts as much as you expected really. His hand reached up the second you drew near, taking the bottle from your hands greedily, popping the cork and taking a decidedly long drink. Not minding you at all as you reluctantly found a seat on the bench his clothes were rested upon.

The sight of his nose scrunching a bit from the taste of the wine made an ever so small smile tug at the corner of your mouth. It was hard not to recall him making that same face at the tiefling party not so long ago. Vinegar for wine. Would there be a day when the wine you brought him didn't elicit that involuntary response?

Astarion glanced at you from the corner of his eye, "You'd have made an excellent vampire, you know." He said with an amused little grin, all happy to see the confusion cover your features.

"Why is that?"

"Asking to come in, obviously." He joked loosely,

A small laugh left your lips as your eyes drifted to the floor, "I didn't realize that respecting people's privacy was so vampiresque."

"It's not, we're atrociously nosey by nature and well... it's just another fun hindrance to go against that nature I suppose." Astarion spoke in his normal moseying draw. 

"I see..."

There was a breadth of silence between the two of you. A silence that carried the heaviness of the day's events. You knew it needed to be said, but it didn't make it any easier to consider what the exact words were that needed saying. How to broach it? What if he didn’t want to talk about it at all and you misread the situation entirely? You kept glancing his way hoping to have it all come together in your mind like some sort of epiphany, yet he beat you to it.

"I'm not upset with you, darling. You don't have to keep looking at me like that." Astarion spoke suddenly with all the ease in the world.

"You're not?"

"Well,  perhaps I was a little at first. You did go back on your word, after all." Astarion pointed out, eyes now fixed on the bottle in his hand. “I think anyone might be a bit… sour after something like that.”

There was the guilt again. "Astarion... I'm sorry, I---"

"I don't want your apologies." He cut in sharply, finally turning his gaze to look your way.  Despite what his tone may have indicated, his eyes weren't as stern as they normally appeared when he was upset. No, they were instead ever so full of sadness.  "...I-I'm not angry with you. I swear it. But what I don't understand is why I don't feel any fucking better." Astarion said as his voice suddenly sounded so much more fragile. "I... I killed him. I got the revenge I've dreamed about for two-hundred fucking years. The same revenge I begged for the whole year I was locked in that horrid tomb." He hissed, "I took back my life and yet I... I feel like I didn't do enough."

He was cracking. That much you could see.

"I can't help but wonder if I had completed the ceremony if that would have been enough. Enough to rub it in his Gods damned face that I did it." Astarion admitted sternly, lifting his chin as his eyes stayed focused on the bottle still, "Watch this worm take away everything from him like he took everything from me." He mumbled out, the heat leaving his voice for a brief second as all that he was left with was glassy eyes.

"...I-I would have never had to fear anyone or anything ever again..." Astarion uttered through clenched teeth, tears finally breaking free and running down his cheeks one at a time. "...and now it's gone."

Wordlessly you got to your feet, taking a few steps forward to close the gap between you both, leaning down to wrap your arms around his neck in the most comforting hug you could possibly muster. His hand immediately finds your arm, holding it tight as for the second time in your journey, he begins to cry.

Silence seems to be what Astarion needed from you, wailing into the open air as everything he has stuffed away into that bottle comes pouring back out. No apologies. No consoling words. Just for you to hold him, to give him time. His head rests against yours almost as if to ensure that even now, after everything you both had been through, you couldn't see him cry. Perhaps the idea of you seeing it happen twice in a day was too much for him. Or perhaps there was still a festering feeling of weakness that would bubble up if he let you see him cry.

"Oh my sweet, sweet, Astarion." You mumbled holding him tighter than before, listening as his sobs grew softer over the passing moments. 

Waiting. Listening.

Once his frame had stopped shaking you finally raised your voice once more . "...if I could Astarion, I would take away all of the hurt in an instant... but I can't. And I wish you knew just how much it pains me to not be able to." You speak, parting your lips to continue on but pause as you feel a familiar shudder resonate through your mind. He was peering in, confirming the statement for himself it seemed. "The most I can do is promise you something..." you continued on, pretending like you weren't aware of poking around, you had nothing to hide for one key reason…

Gently you pulled back, running your hand from his neck to his chin to tilt his head up. Eyes looking over his tear stained cheeks and then to meet his own shimmering red eyes. "I promise you that, as long as I'm here you will never have to fear anything... or anyone again." You assured, thumbs brushing over his cheeks as you wipe away his remaining tears. “Because Astarion… I love you and… I will never let you go.”

The look that fills Astarion's eyes is something that you had only seen once before when you decided to hug him for the first time back in the Shadowlands. It was a look that spoke numbers towards just how frightening the unknown was for him. How terrifying it could be to have someone love you so truly and want nothing in return for the first time in his life.

You feel a rush of surprise followed by so overwhelming, your lips curl into the same smile you gave him then as you had reached out to wrap your arms around him to hold him tight…

You know the feeling even if he can’t say it yet.

Love.

Because that was the thing. Astarion had realized before this that you… well, you were the only good thing that he’s ever had. That he’d do just about anything to keep you safe and ensure that no one dare take you away from him. Yet, strangely he never once considered…

That he might mean just that much to you.

End Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I'd really love to start writing for Astarion more so if you have any ideas send them over <3

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion angst #astarion x you #astarion x tav

[sunofpandora]

Hii could I ask a request for Lo’ak or Neteyam with a shy Na’vi reader?

𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷/𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/ 𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼

Neteyam Sully x Fem!omaticaya! shy!reader.

Y/n was always a shy person. Growing up a war orphan, being raised alongside the sully kids, forging a bond and finding a plantonic soulmate within Lo’ak, a sisterhood rooted with Kiri and Tuk, a somewhat chaotic friendship with spider, She finds herself on a winding path of romance with the eldest sully brother….

Disclaimers:

Mentions of parent death, undiagnosed social anxiety, mentions of fear, panic attacks, nightmares,

Tooth rotting fluff.

Spider and Lo’ak being ‘y/n protectors’ 

Neteyam wanting to strangle them for it. Kiri being a crystal girlie. Tuk being a menace.

(This is not proofread or edited and was written on a phone.)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Trust is a fragile thing. And most protect fragile things.

Sometimes, trust struggles to cross borders where shadows of regret and heartache dwell.

Sometimes we are held back, and our fears lapse until we are nothing more than lingering whispers in oblivion.

Y/n wasn’t a fragile thing.

At least, that’s what Jake convinced himself.

Jake Sully never saw himself as a father. 

Yet again, he never saw himself as 8 ft and blue either.

But I suppose sometimes we don’t find what we are looking for. We find something far deeper.

When Jake had his children, he was able to heal some of the scars of the past, some of history’s cruel rhyme schemes. Lapsing glimpses of the ones he had lost.

Watch a new life grow, vibrant with color from the gray-stained past. 

When Neytiri lost Tsu’tey, one of her closest friends and allies, it was like losing a brother. Sometimes soulmates are siblings, where others saw a replacement, a place holder for the sister she had lost, she saw Tsu’tey. The closest thing to a brother she would ever know.

Tsu’tey’s mate, Säyaron, the sole survivor of the couple, became pregnant a short while after Neytiri. 

Losing the child’s father, a detrimental dent in the woman’s life.

Säyaron was a fierce woman.

Chasing waterfalls and leaping over fire pits for the thrill. 

Everything made of revenge and fire coursing through her veins. Säyaron was a creature of habit. Like Neytiri, an archer. The finest of aim, the deadliest of gazes. A woman with lightning under her skin, her fingertips lingering the softest of touches in which she only reserved for her child.

Säyaron became ill, shortly after Y/N turned 3. 

Recovery was impossible. Säyaron’s daughter was placed in the hands of her people to raise. The omaticaya was entrusted to guide her.

Neytiri and Jake made a promise to themselves that they would honor Tsu’tey, and Säyaron’s legacy and many following, looking after this child as one of their own.

Th3 bravest of warriors deserve honorable epilogues.

☼.⋆｡𖦹 °˖☼.⋆｡𖦹 °˖☼.⋆｡𖦹 °˖☼.⋆｡𖦹 °˖

But have no fear. 

Where an epilogue begins, a second story surely follows.

Y/n was born a few months after Neteyam. 

Raised alongside the Sully children, Y/n was a rather quiet little one.

Y/n often dwelled herself with Norm’s bunch. The war orphaned children he ‘adopted’ soon after the battle of the hallelujah mountains, Spider included.

Although, Y/n wasn’t one for crowds.

Her shyness built herself a barrier from others, and sometimes a rather strong one at that.

She fared well with Lo’ak, Kiri, even Spider. But outside of the small circle of sully’s, her attamepts at socializing seemed to lapse over dead ends, to no avail. 

But she wasn’t fragile.

No. Fragile wasn’t the right word.

Soft?

No. Soft is for objects. 

 Poor thing would even flinch when Jake would drop something, or when little Tuk would start wailing during her infantry years.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Shhhh…ma’prrnen…”

Neytiri cooed, scooping up Tuk from her tiny woven made carrier.

Y/n peaked out from behind the small bow holder, sat perched was a couple hunting spears and the bow that was formerly eytukans. 

Neytiri smiles at the child.

“Y/n, would you like to hold her?”

Neytiri reached her free arm out, motioning the little one over.

Neytiri hadn’t adopted y/n, not to the same degree of officialness as Kiri.

But the little one was still one of her children. Under her care, her love, her guidance.

Y/n froze up. Her tail twitched, her ears pin back, she shook her head and scurried away. Slinking back into the corner hooded by the shadows.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Jake looked after Y/n like a daughter. 

Holding her small hand within his whenever the family traveled, keeping her close, his eyes lingering on her for just a beat longer whenever Lo’ak dragged her off to play some stupid game.

Children aren’t perfect. 

Of course, if there’s one thing Jake has learned from becoming one of the people, it’s that na’vi are significantly better people than humans. Smarter, that’s for one. Their fingertips stained with the brown dirt of the great mother’s skin instead of the oil that rusted off of the RDA machines.

Na’vi may not be human, but they are still people.

Imperfect, flawed creatures at times. 

When he first met Neytiri, he had no knowledge of this. Blinded by the beautiful, towering azure-skinned goddess she appeared as, who fancied herself Cupid, striking an arrow through his heart in all the wrong places.

As he learned, as he grew, he realized that Na’vi weren’t aliens at all.

Children still bickered over toys and petty games, teenagers still gossiped over who wore the feathered top better, or who hunted the most game, who was to be mated first, and last.

Jake’s children were typical examples of this.

“Why should I let you have it?!”

“I had it first!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Lo’ak you liar!”

Jake sighed, rubbing his fingers against his temples, hitting the pressure points Mo’at taught him about, attempting to soothe the headache that brewed.

Ah, the joy of children.

He glanced over at Lo’ak and Kiri, the trouble twins, as Jake called them. 

Lo’ak, the spawn of recklessness in every form.

Boyish as the word comes, you find sensitivity, if you turn him over, backwards and then upside down again, and graze your fingertips over the right edges.

Or in his case, one fingertips too many.

And Kiri, a mysterious creation. Who’s heart beats with the rhythm of eywa’s pulse. Who’s eyes longed for otherness.

Things that grew beyond the edge of her grasp. Beautifully out of place.

He peered down at Y/n, who had perched herself next to him. A feather top covered her chest, similar to the one Kiri wore., handmade by Neytiri.

Her hair, a dark void of charcoaled honey brown, small beads adorned the shoulder length braids. 

Jake sighed, running a hand along her back.

“What are we gonna do with them, babygirl, hm?”

Y/ns ears perked up, looking up from the small flower stems she was braiding.

Y/n was a shadow.

Slipping into backgrounds, the darkness in small corners and shades of trees becoming a sanctuary of silence.

A shell of what Jake was accustomed to. Jake didn’t like silence. Silence was daunting. It’s something that demands attention.

Y/n wasn’t silent. She was quiet. There’s a difference. A paradox of hidden things could only be heard when gently whispered, not pried open.

She fiddles with the woven strands on his armband, he allows her, his voice quiet to not overbear her. 

She treats the flowers like living things.

Gentle, small things with lungs and a heart, just like her. When Lo’ak was 4, y/n 5, he grew a habit of carelessly stomping through the tswakesyul flower bed whenever he and spider raced up the creek, the small noises of nervousness that fell from Y/n’s lips, little hands itching to wilt them up to their right side again.

Where others looked over a tiny, withered voice and shaky hands, stuttering speech and unbraided hair that was known as Y/n, Jake and Neytiri saw a child who cared. Longed for something to protect without the consistency of burdening noise to shake her.

A child who watered the flowers, planted extra seeds, picked more fruit than she could carry because she cared too much.

Jake watches as Y/n carefully braids the flowers. Her fingers weaving between the stems, gently cradling stories.

Stories?

Yes, Stories.

Plants harbor memory. 

Memories that we cannot see.

Well, Jake can’t at least.

Where he saw a leaf, Y/n saw a piece of the great mother that had grown through the seasons, refusing surrender during Great storms, but instead be blown with the wind to find itself placed here, on the ground. Stories of stars and wild skies, such fragile things like flowers spoke to her.

“I HATE YOU!”

“I hate you times Infinity, Lo’ak!

Penis face-!”

“Hey! That’s enough. Don’t make me come over there.”

Jake glared at his two children.

Kiri huffed, her chin tilted up in disapproval of Jake’s intervention.

She was Grace’s child, through and through. Don’t believe me? Grace’s sass still haunts us all.

“She started it!”

Lo’ak protested, snatching the toy away from Kiri who snickered as she whacked him with her tail.

“Ow! Dad-!”

“Enough. Kiri, go over there, Lo’ak, you over there.”

Jake stood up, withdrawing himself from his peaceful spot in the shade with Y/n.

Grabbing Kiri by one arm, Lo’ak by the other.

“No fair. Dad, we wanna play!”

Kiri whines.

“Then play away from one another, please?”

 Lo’ak huffed, like the petty 7 year old he was, 

“Fine. I’m gonna go play with…”

His hands dangled at his sides, eyes flickering for his next victim-

I mean playmate.

“Y/n!”

Before Jake can protest, Lo’ak jogs his way over to Y/n. Roughly grabbing her by her arm and dragging her away towards the shallow creek, Jake sometimes took Neteyam to practice fishing.

A small squeak of surprise leaves Y/n’s lips.

”lo’ak! Gentle for Eywa’ s sake.”

Jake scolded.

Lo’ak waved his dad off, ridding his remark from the Pandora air.

“We’ll be back soon! I promise! We’re gonna go play in the river!”

“Be home by sundown. And be careful!”

Jake sighed, taking Kiri home to go play with baby Tuk and Neteyam.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Spider roared playfully as he chased Y/n and Lo’ak.

Lo’ak, Spider, and Y/n forged themselves into a nest of chaos.

It stunned Jake, to see two na’vi children treat a human like one of their own, helping him re-twist his locs and paint his skin the colors of their culture in hopes it’ll stain itself a new life in its wake.

It scared Jake, in a way. 

To see bonds forged out of something so undeniably dangerous.

The kind of paradox of love that was stitched together out of mismatched pieces.

They fit if you place them in the right position.

The deepest rivers, the vastest of oceans, kindred with the sun, the moon, the stars.

You can’t have 1 without the other 2 tagging behind.

Trust. That’s what the 3 had.

Neytiri and Jake watched from afar, their looming shadows remaining unveiling over their children.

Neytiri saw spider as nothing but a burden.

The type of animal with no hope of survival, but refuses surrender. It clings to life even in the excess of misery.

Neytiri’s anger was a shallow thing.

Yet, it roots itself deeper than Jake could reach. A daughter of the forest, whom dances where other struggle to stand on uneven ground.

When it came to Spider, it awakened A destructive havoc we call distrust, introduced officially as our antagonist.

A costume. An actor. Entertainment in its most pathetic form. A pale child painting their self blue.

Wishing for the type of dream that lets him sleep in longer.

That’s what Neytiri saw.

When jake looked at Spider, he saw an unfinished canvas.

That’s why Spider paints himself.

“He belongs with his own kind.”

Jake looks towards his wife, his eyes glancing a pattern between the trio and his mate.

“He’s just playing.”

Jake adds, the mumble lingered in the pandora air.

Neytiri clicked her tongue, wincing a bit as she watched the boy roughly pull on Y/n’s tail.

Something she would have considered harmless roughhousing, if Spider was a na’vi child.

Neteyam peeked from behind his mothers leg, his tail flicking curiously as he watched his brother, Y/n and spider run around.

“I am the hungry thanator! Coming to eat you all!”

Spider hissed, running to catch up with Lo’ak and Y/n.

“Not with those legs you’re not!!”

Lo’ak jumped into a higher branch, one which spider couldn’t reach.

“Lo’ak! No fair! I can’t reach!”

Spider complained, attempting jumping for a few failed attempts at catching the mischievous na’vi boy.

“No way! I’m not trying to get eaten!”

“I’m still on the ground!” 

Y/n waves her arms around, signaling to spider to come get his free meal.

Y/n wasn’t like Lo’ak. When she played with spider, sparing him the difficulty of things his body wasn’t made for. 

Spider’s eyes lit up and he roared once again, charging at Y/n, feet assaulting the ground beneath him with splashes in the shin-deep water.

Y/n squealed and found herself tackled by the human boy.

“Caught you! Now I will feast!”

Spider laughed.

“I’ll protect you Y/n!”

Lo’ak tackled spider, Neteyam watched as chaos ensued between the three.

“Neteyam, you wanna go join them, bud?”

Jake nudged his eldest lightly.

But teyam shook his head, his feet rooting him close to Neytiri.

Neteyam was jealous. 

No. He wasn’t gonna admit it.

To see y/n with spider and Lo’ak, yelling wildly, as if the two reckless boys barricaded her in a circle of safety in which she could shed her skin and become her true self.

Why couldn’t she have that with neteyam?

Neteyam thought of himself as a nice person.

Neteyam had a fascination with Y/n.

Often found himself trying to climb over the barrier she had built around herself.

Jake called it a ‘puppy crush’.

What’s a puppy? 

Neteyam didn’t know. Nor did he care, really.

At age 8, Neteyam was the kindest soul you’ll ever meet.

Kind, gentle, beloved by all of his friends in the village.

And trust me; teyam had lots.

Quite the popular kid.

There was a time where Neteyam was following his father, bow in hand, his steps unfaltering in speed, skipping over rocks as he trailed behind Jake, whom walked with his head high, ready to take his eldest fishing.

“Alright, bud. Gotta make this one quick. I promised your mom I’d get you home before sundown.”

“Okay dad…”

Neteyam’s words trailed off as he found his steps lacking perfect pace behind the taller na’vi.

A bit beside him, a na’vi girl came into view, quietly poking and picking at the flowers with a steadied gaze.

Stomped on, withered tswakesyul under the fingertips, it only took him a second to realize it was Y/n.

Neteyam’s feet moved before his mind could.

“Y/n?”

She squeaked at the sound of his voice; her eyes widening a bit; and she stared like a deer in headlights.

“Hi teyam.”

Her voice is quiet, a fragile thing.

“Whatcha doing? Is that a flower? It’s pretty. Tswakesyul are mama’s favorites-“

Neteyam pauses mid sentence as he sees Y/n struggle to answer his overwhelming questions.

Her mouth opens and closes, but no words form a grand execution.

Choppy breaths, stuttered scentences.

Neteyam sits patiently, awaiting her voice to flood his ears.

Neteyam was a kind child. Patient like his mother, growing into a noble warrior with dreams of ikran wings and victorious wind races, running through lightning and chasing rainclouds.

To execute these wild fantasies?

He couldn’t. 

It was like a wall he couldn’t climb.

Even at 8 years of age.

To give in, to fall off the edge, it was like a rope constantly pulled him back to safety. To familiarity and warm scents, to comfort and warm touches from dying fire pits, in a way he envied Lo’ak, who ran through wildfires like it’s his life mission.

No cozy fires for him.

Neteyam never saw y/n as a fragile thing.

Not a thing to be studied or observed.

And yet, the girl whom showed a rare generosity towards something as fragile as a flower….

It enraptured his heart.

Neteyam, once 8, is now 19.

Muscles rippling, stance widening, strength conquering.

He was everything.

He was a hunter, stealthy, silent, graceful, like his mother.

He was a warrior, proud, confident, intelligent like his father.

Expectations were heavy things. Tying him down like weights to a shoulder.

Growing as the future chief, the son of Toruk Makto. Neteyam found himself stuck under an un-surrendering shadow.

Neteyam was sunlight. A tyrant of honor, violent with color, sun-streaked glowing flaxen running through his veins. Reminisce in his laugh, it’s bright enough to challenge the sun and the sky. 

 Haunted by the atonement of loneliness, with the unburdened carefree childhood withering away with each year.

The vexatious luminescent deity we claim to be sunlight, provides no sanctuary to a shadow.

He was the dawn that climbed the mountains slowly at first light, he was the sunsets that bleed through the sky, a lingering shield that protected the lands from the thousand eyes that would soon litter the dark sky, withering into a thin strip of horizon.

Neteyam never stood where he couldn’t see. 

The sun that became mere background noise, a shadow of a looming ruler who no longer throned once night fell.

Watching the moon glow, constantly providing, but never falling off the edge.

With the vengeful thief we call time, Y/n grew into an 18 year old.

Y/n Is a shadow. Dwelling under dim fires, glowing under the moonlight. Sometimes Neteyam thought the universe could fall apart in her hands, and she’d whisper to it like one of her flowers.

A kaleidoscope of perfect curves and colors, sunlit eyes and gentle hands.

Y/n yearned for darkness.

The quiet of the night, the whispers of stardust, the heartbeat of the moon.

where she can touch the consolation within isolation. It is not loneliness she desires, but fixations on the introspection of her affection.

Where she can unravel stories in the leaves, the trees, the earth, the petals of a tsawkesyul.

Neteyam fantasies sporadically.

Dreaming is a dangerous thing.

Is it wrong?

That he yearned for her like she yearned for her flowers?

Had dreams of kissing her neck, dragging his nose along her pulsepoint

feeling the curve of her hips beneath his palms?

Feeling her breath, her heartbeat.

To thread his fingers through her braids. To love her. To kiss her from teh perfectly curved cupids bow and down, worshiping her every breath.

Oh Eywa. Let him pretend.

Let him pretend like the day he stood behind his mother’s leg, watching Y/n and his brother. Pretending it was him, pretending he was with her then.

Pretending he was with her now.

Pretending he was hers. Hers to ruin, hers to kiss, to gently drag her fingertips over.

He longs for her laughter. To chase one another while the sun burns out, the sky submerging into a sunset violent and rebellious with color. The last salvageable stretches of sunlight flirting with her eyes, she serenades him with the aubade of her laughter. Proclamations, promises, and monuments fade behind him.

Those unscathed hands cradling her stories. Her flowers. Her sun

He wants to be her sun.

Trust me.

Trust me please.

Look at me.

Can’t you see me?

Neteyam wants to scream it.

Trust me to treat you like one of your flowers.

Neteyam was sunlight.

Y/n was a shadow.

Can we be an eclipse?

⋆｡˚꩜⋆☼.⋆｡𖦹 °.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆｡°✩｡⋆☾☼⋆｡˚꩜⋆☼.⋆｡𖦹 °.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆｡°✩｡⋆

First request finished! this will become a mini series. I’m thinking 3 or 2 parts? The next parts will be WAY less fancy and extra I promise. This was just kinda a build up to Neteyam and Y/n’s blossoming romance. im actually so excited for this work and I had so much fun writing it. writing it was kinda a blur, yk? like I just sat down and thought “shy reader? Okay-“ And then I started typing and I couldn’t stop 😭

taglist꩜⋆☼

@neteyamsoare

luv you bby hope you enjoyed 💙

#avatar the way of water #jake avatar #neteyam x reader #kiri sully #neytiri #avatar fanfiction #neteyam #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully

[mymoodwriting]

10.1k, yandere, hybrid au, hybrid cafe, social awkwardness, biting, clawing, abuse, physical abuse, smut, non-con, dub-con, oral sex, penetration, overstimulation, groping, tit-play, minor somnophilia, after care, minor stockholm syndrome, manipulation, possessiveness (@starillusion13)

“Have you ever been to a hybrid cafe?”

“A what now?”

“You know, like a cat cafe, where you can enjoy some drinks and snacks and play with cats, but instead of cats, they have hybrids!”

“I… no I’ve never heard of one…”

“We should go, I bet you’d love it.”

“Sure.”

You weren’t much of a social person, but the friends you kept close always made you sure you felt included. This outing to a hybrid cafe was the recent adventure you had been invited to join in. It sounded interesting, so you agreed. You went into the city, meeting up at the cafe. Your friends greeted you warmly, glad you found your way without getting lost. You had never been to this area before, so it was a reasonable concern. The place was decorated in such a manner you felt like you were in a bakery.

The hostess asked how many people were in your party, four, and brought you over to a table to seat double. Your friends explained to you how everything would work. You could each request the company of one hybrid, and it would be for one hour at a time. You were given a table and told there were two menus, one for the guests and the other for the hybrids. You could order anything you liked, and could get them something too. As for the hybrids themselves, you were shown the tab where all the hybrids were listed. The list went by ranking, as you were encouraged to rate the hybrids after your time together.

There was a picture, followed by their name and type. You could click on the picture to get more information about the hybrid, as well as more images of them, and you could read some previous reviews. Those that were grayed out were already with someone, but you could still look at their profile if you wanted to. This place had a variety of hybrids and they all seemed very cute and friendly. You kept scrolling down the list until you came to the end. No one had really caught your eye, and then you noticed the hybrid at the bottom of the list. The rating wasn’t low, two out of five stars, and you curiously clicked on their profile.

Seonghwa, a pink haired cat hybrid. You had to admit they were very cute, and you wondered why they didn’t have a higher ranking. As you looked at the reviews you could see why. They were very quiet and didn’t really engage with others. It sounded very similar to you, and so you picked Seonghwa. Most people probably didn’t even see him as he was at the bottom of the list. Once you picked a hybrid you got yourself a little cake and drink, catching up with your friends while you waited. After a moment four hybrids came over. Your friends immediately welcomed them, but you noticed Seonghwa hanging back, a little awkward.

“Over here.” You smiled, pulling out a chair. “It’s nice to meet you, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa gave you a nervous smile and then sat down next to you. He whispered a small hello to you as well. Since he seemed uneasy you didn’t push him to talk. Instead you slid over the hybrid menu and told him he could get whatever he wanted. After a moment you felt a slight tug on your shirt, looking over to see Seonghwa pointing at something on the hybrid menu. You smiled and nodded, letting him place his order. The other hybrids at the table were very chatty, talking about what they could do, and your friends were eagerly asking questions and petting their heads. You just silently listened and watched, just happy to be included.

After a while you looked over at Seonghwa, seeing him enjoy his little cake. You found him very cute, and then noticed he had some cream on his face. You grabbed a napkin and tapped his shoulder. He turned to you shyly and you offered him a smile, reaching over to clean his face. He stared at you with wide eyes, a little smile creeping on his face. When he finished his treat you told him he could order another one if he wanted. While browsing the menu the waitress for the table came by to inform you the hour was up. You and your friends would be staying for another while so you could switch out the hybrids.

You noticed Seonghwa slowly putting down the tablet and intending to get up but you grabbed his arm and asked the waitress if it was possible for Seonghwa to stay with you for another hour. She said it wouldn’t be an issue as long as no one else had requested him. Thankfully that was the case and you had Seonghwa sit back down, handing him back the tablet. The rest of your friends picked out some other hybrids, and while waiting they tried to talk with Seonghwa but he was very shy, only answering with a few words. Once the other hybrids came to the table he was left alone and you continued with your evening. 

At the end of the hour you guys were heading out, and you thanked Seonghwa for his company. He gave you a genuine bright smile and waved goodbye. You and your friends split the bill and also made your ratings. You quite enjoyed having Seonghwa around and gave him five stars, although that didn’t do much for his overall rating. Still, you hoped he had a good time and enjoyed himself, even if only for a little bit. You were glad you had come along with your friends, and they talked about coming again some time in the future. You liked the idea, although you were thinking that maybe you’d return on your own someday too.

🖤

You mainly preferred to stay home, especially since you worked there, but on some occasions you’d go out with friends. It was very rare for you to go anywhere by yourself, so it was a surprise to you too that you were making the trip. Still, you wanted to give this a shot. You returned to the hybrid cafe from before, grateful the hostess didn’t recognize you or comment on you being by yourself.  The hostess placed you at a booth and once you were seated you looked at the hybrid menu, scrolling down to find Seonghwa and glad to see he was available. You made your choice and ordered some treats for both of you, getting out your things while you waited. A moment later someone was scooching in next to you.

“Hello again…”

“Hi, Seonghwa. It’s nice to see you.”

“Where are your friends?”

“It’s just me today. Is that okay?” Seonghwa nodded. “Good. I ordered you a little cake, but if you want something else feel free to get it.”

“Thank you.”

Even if it was just the two of you it was clear Seonghwa wasn’t much of a talker in general. You wanted his company above all, so you didn’t mind. You focused on your work, typing away on your laptop. It was kind of nice to be working outside of the house, getting some fresh air and enjoying something tasty. Seonghwa didn’t try to make conversation but he was slowly moving closer to you, wanting to peek at your screen. He thought he was being sly, but you were well aware of his gaze. An author could always tell when someone was peeking at their work. You didn’t mind though, seeing that he was quite engaged. Although you were curious.

“Do you like it?”

“Hm?”

“The story.”

“I… I’ve never read anything like it before.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I don’t get to read much…”

“You don’t? What do you do when you’re not out here?”

“Uh… there’s not much to do in the back. Well, if you’re not busy that is. Usually the others get cleaned up in between guests and change clothes too. They talk about the people they entertain and stuff.”

“What about you?”

“I’m… I’m usually in my room sleeping. I don’t do much around here.”

“Oh, I must have interrupted your sleep, sorry about that.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s nice to be out here. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing really. So then, you don’t like this much, do you?”

“It’s that obvious, huh?”

“All the other hybrids seem social, but you’re very quiet. Which I don’t mind at all by the way.”

“Is that why you picked me? Cause I’m quiet?”

“No… it’s just… I’m not very… social myself… I don’t really go out alone, but I also don’t like… being alone… you’re good company… your presence alone is comfortable for me. I hope that’s okay…”

“Yeah, you’re good company too… it’s a nice change…”

“Can I ask… how come you’re here?”

“Well… the owners of the cafe adopted me… they liked my pink hair… and said I was pretty… I did try to be… better… but other people get so loud and touchy… this really isn’t my type of thing…”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not so bad anymore. I don’t get picked as much.”

“Well you’re lovely to me.”

“Thank you.”

Seonghwa made some light conversation with you, asking about your story. He was very curious but didn’t pry too much. You didn’t want to spoil it all for him. You stuck around for a few hours, keeping Seonghwa with you. After all those treats he was quiet sleepy, leaning against your shoulder and closing his eyes. He asked you to read to him for a bit, saying he wouldn’t fall asleep. Eventually he did, and you let him rest for a bit. You couldn’t stay all day, so eventually you had to say goodbye. You promised Seonghwa you’d come by again, and you both looked forward to that.

🖤

You couldn’t come everyday as you had meetings and deadlines, and as much as you loved having Seonghwa with you, he’d most likely wind up being a distraction for you every now and then. Still, you were both very happy when you did see each other. Seonghwa got to try every item on the menu, discovering what was his favorite, and stealing a few bites and sips of your things too even though you told him not to. You grew close, and because of that you were both more comfortable opening up. There wasn’t much silence between you anymore. Although the fact you met at a cafe and pretty much paid to see him would cause some issues every now and then.

On one occasion you had come in to discover Seonghwa had actually been taken. You didn’t notice he had been at another table since he usually wasn’t. You asked the waitress how long until he would be available, and fortunately she told you he’d be free in a few minutes. You didn’t mind waiting for him. So you focused on your work until you felt someone sliding into the booth with you and getting close. Seonghwa rested his head on your shoulder, whining and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. It tickled and you playfully told him to stop. He did after a moment, moving a bit so he could wrap his arms around you, sighing happily.

“You good?”

“I’m so happy you’re here.”

“What, you didn’t have fun at your other table?”

“Not at all.” Seonghwa pouted. “They were so loud, and one girl kept touching my ears. Stupid pink ears.”

“They’re cute.”

“But I don’t like people touching them, only you can.”

“Ah, well I am honored.”

“Can you pet me? I wanna get the feeling of those rough hands off me.”

“Alright, alright.”

You pet Seonghwa softly, getting some purrs out of him. You noticed something moving under his shirt, for the first time realizing Seonghwa had a tail.

“Seonghwa.”

“Hm…”

“I didn’t know you had a tail.”

“Oh… that… I hide it to avoid people touching it.”

“Clever.”

“Do you want to touch my tail?”

“It’s okay. Even on normal cats that’s not exactly a place they like to be touched. Maybe one day you can show me, but it doesn’t have to be today.”

“Alright, thanks. Now where’s my cake?”

“On the way, be patient.”

Seonghwa was very happy you had come to save him that day, needing you to make everything better. There were a few times you had to wait for him, which you never minded, and the staff also let you hang out for a bit without a hybrid. By now they knew you were a regular and would spend a lot of time, and money, with Seonghwa. You always looked forward to his company and could wait for him, but there would come a time where that wasn’t an option. You came to the cafe and got your table, browsing the menu when Seonghwa suddenly sat down.

“Oh, hi, Seonghwa. You beat me to it today, I haven’t even picked you yet.”

“Wait, you haven’t?”

“No, I was just-”

“Excuse me, I’m sorry.” The waitress came over. “This isn’t your table, Seonghwa. You’ve been requested elsewhere.”

“What? But-”

The waitress grabbed Seonghwa’s arm, pulling him up and apologizing to you. Seonghwa gave you a sad look, but there wasn’t really much you could do. A moment later the waitress returned, apologizing once again.

“It’s alright. I can wait.”

“The thing is… Seonghwa was picked by a party, so they will be keeping him until they leave.”

“Oh… I see… I didn’t know that was a thing… so you don’t know when he’d be available.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t. It could be two hours or more.”

“Alright, I guess I’ll have to come some other time.”

“We’re really sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault. Thank you.”

You grabbed your things and got up, making your way out. Seonghwa had not been happy to be taken away from you. His rating hadn’t gotten higher as he asked you not to raise it, but that still wouldn’t stop others from picking him. He asked the waitress what was going on when he was taken to a much bigger table. To his surprise he was told he had been picked for a party, but he also knew what that meant. He was stuck here until the party was over. By now you had probably been told this as well, and he looked over at the table you had been, not seeing you there. He immediately got up, searching for you.

“Where are you going kitty?” A girl grabbed his arm. “You have to say hi to the birthday girl.”

Seonghwa didn’t want you to go, and he tried to free himself from the girl but she wouldn’t let go. Without thinking he bit the girl’s hand and ran after you, catching up to you before you left.

“Y/n, are you leaving?”

“Seonghwa… you’re gonna be busy for who knows how long. I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?”

“No, I don’t want you to go.”

“That’s not how-”

“Ya! Get over here you bastard!”

Another girl suddenly stormed over and you immediately pulled Seonghwa behind you. Now there were all eyes on you, and some of the staff came over to deescalate the situation.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“Your hybrid bit me!” The girl yelled.

You immediately looked back at Seonghwa, giving him a questioning look. He merely avoided your gaze and lowered his head. His grip on your arm got tighter.

“What? Seonghwa.” The staff asked. “Is that true?”

“Look! His bite mark is on my hand.”

“Seonghwa! Miss, we are so sorry, our hybrids are usually so well behaved, we don’t know why-”

“What are you going to do about this? I’ve heard great things about this place but clearly you don’t train your hybrids well. He wasn’t even paying attention to the party.”

“We’re very sorry about this. We can provide-”

“What about the hybrid?”

“He’ll be removed from the party and you can-”

“What else? You shouldn’t have such an animal at your establishment.”

You couldn’t help but worry about Seonghwa. His actions weren’t appropriate, but the consequences he might face could be very harsh. Without much thinking yourself, you spoke.

“I’ll adopt him.”

“What?”

“I’ll adopt Seonghwa.” You looked back at him. “Is… is that okay? I didn’t ask-”

“Yes. Please take me with you.”

“Okay.” You looked back at the staff. “I’ll take Seonghwa off your hands and adopt him. I’ll pay however much you got him for plus fifty percent. Is that good enough?”

“Uh… we can discuss this in private.”

“That’s fine.”

Seonghwa kept a hold of you as you followed a staff member to a back office, speaking to the owner and working out the payment and paperwork. He kept quiet throughout the whole thing, not wanting to mess anything up. Once everything was done he was allowed to go back and get his belongings, but there wasn’t really anything that was his so he opted to just leave with you. It was strange to step out of the cafe, but it felt right since he wasn’t alone.

“Sorry…”

“For what?”

“Causing trouble…”

“You shouldn’t pull a stunt like that, you could have gotten seriously hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re a good hybrid, don’t do things to make people think otherwise.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“Alright, well, since you don’t have much I guess the first thing we should do is get you some clothes.”

“You’re gonna take me shopping?”

“Of course. Come on.”

You took Seonghwa’s hand and your adventure began. You rarely went out to shop for yourself, so you really had no idea where to go for Soenghwa. You did a bit of online research and found some places to go. At first Seonghwa was quite shy, but you encouraged him to pick out things he wanted. You got him some regular clothes as well as pajamas, getting another few things he seemed to like. Once you were done with the shopping you took Seonghwa back to your place. This time around he was in disbelief, stepping into your house and being told it was his home now too.

You had a decent sized house, two floors with a basement. Seonghwa looked around curiously putting down all the bags he had with him. It was so quiet compared to his previous living arrangement, but it was also way nicer. You watched as he took everything in, glad to see he liked it. Or at least you hoped he did. Before you could say anything your phone rang and you quickly pulled it out to see who was calling you. Of course you had things you needed to do and the sudden adoption sidetracked you.

“It’s my editor. I need to take this. Feel free to look around and make yourself at home, I’ll be right back.”

“Wait.” Seonghwa grabbed your arm. “Is this… is this really my home?”

You smiled. “Yes. You live here now with me. I… I hope that’s okay…”

“It’s great.”

“I’m glad to hear. I’ll only be a moment.”

Seonghwa watched you head upstairs, hearing a door close a moment later. Now that it was just him he looked around the place properly. He found the kitchen and dining room, as well as the bathroom and back door. The yard looked quiet lovely, you even had a few flowers growing. There was a closet in the hallway as well, and the next door led to the basement, but he didn’t want to go down there. Eventually he came into the living room, seeing all these pictures of you with friends and family. He grabbed one of the frames you had on the cabinet when he heard you calling for him.

“Seonghwa.”

“I’m right here.” 

You walked down the steps just as Seonghwa was stepping out into the hall, giving you a smile when your eyes met.

“Are you finding everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Seonghwa held out the picture frame. “I want one.”

“Hm?”

You made your way down and grabbed what Seonghwa was holding out to you. It was a picture of you and your friends, although you weren’t quite sure what he meant with this.

“What about the picture frame?”

“I want a picture of us in a frame.”

“Ah, I should have a camera upstairs and a cool printer. Let’s go, oh and let’s bring your things so we can take them up to your room.”

“My room?”

“Yeah.”

“I get my own room?”

“Of course. Come on, I’m sure you’ll love it.”

You grabbed some of the bags and went back up, Seonghwa grabbing the rest and following you. The second floor wasn’t as big as the first, but it was just as nice. You showed him to what used to be your guest room, but now would be his.

“It’s a little plain, so I guess tomorrow we can go shopping for your things.”

“My things?”

“Yeah, so this room can feel more like yours. I probably also need to get other things too. I’ve  never had a hybrid before. I’ll do some research before tomorrow.”

“That’s okay, I’ve never had a home before… so I guess we’ll figure this out together.”

“I like that.” You smiled. “Ah, your picture.”

You brought Seonghwa over to your office, rummaging around your desk for your camera. You were lucky it still had some charge, so you grabbed Seonghwa and found a good spot to take a picture together. You took a couple and picked out the best ones, printing them all out. Seonghwa happily looked over the picture, remembering the last time he took a photo was for his profile at the cafe. He opened up the picture frame he had and put the picture of you and him inside, staring at it for a moment before hugging it to his chest.

“I love it.”

“I’m glad you do. Now let’s get some food, cause I am starving.”

Seonghwa was happy to try new things, and you both ate in the kitchen, talking like old times. You showed him the shower and how it worked. You weren’t surprised when he took a long shower, probably enjoying himself in a way he couldn’t before. You checked in on him afterwards, making sure he had everything and would sleep well. He thanked you again for everything you had done for him, wishing you a good night. It was pretty late so you took a quick shower and got into bed. You moved around as you got comfy, slowly starting to doze off when you felt the bed dip. You peeked an eye open to see Seonghwa.

“Hm… what are you doing?”

“I… I can’t sleep alone…”

“Are you okay?”

“It’s just… I’m used to sleeping with others around… and the silence here… it’s kinda scary… is… is it okay to sleep here with you… I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually…”

“That’s okay… you can stay here.”

You were used to sleeping alone, but there was something about having a warm body next to you. It was new, but eventually you drifted off to sleep. Come morning you realized you slept really well, better than you had before. You found yourself wrapped up in Seonghwa’s arms, finding him very cute while he slept. You didn’t want to wake him, but you had to get up. You reached over to gently pet him, slowly getting him to wake up.

“Hm…”

“Seonghwa, I gotta get up.”

“Five more minutes…”

“You can absolutely stay in bed, but you gotta let me go.”

“No…”

“Seonghwa, please.”

“Hm…”

You giggled and leaned forward to press a kiss to his head, surprising him. His eyes shot open and he looked at you. This was your chance as his grip had loosened, so you smiled and got out of bed. 

“You can stay and sleep some more, I got things to do.”

“Meanie.”

“I’m gonna make breakfast real quick, you want some?”

“Yes, please. I’ll help.”

“Come on then.”

Seonghwa sat up, stretching and then following you out. He freshened up and met you down in the kitchen, coming over to your side.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“It was nice. I usually had my own bed, but sleeping with someone else is very comfy.”

“I agree. I’m not used to sharing a bed with anyone, but I actually slept really well, so thanks for that.”

“I’m available every night.”

“I’m sure you are.”

Even though Seonghwa had his own room, he liked sharing a bed with you. He was never cold, and even while sleeping he knew he wasn’t alone. You liked it as well, feeling a comfort and joy you couldn’t describe by having someone with you at night. It was a welcomed change.

🖤

Seonghwa was very curious about certain parts of the house, like the kitchen. He had never really been in one before, and he certainly wasn’t used to having unrestricted access to food. Back at the cafe he ate designated meals, and whatever treats he could get with guests. You assured him he was free to grab snacks and drinks whenever he wanted. There was so much he had to learn and experience, but he was excited to get to know it all with you.

Things changed around the house, but in a good way. You were used to playing your music as you worked, although it did take a bit of getting used to the noise of someone else. Seonghwa stuck to your side for the first few days, which wasn’t an issue. He was more than happy to take the books off your shelves and read them, getting very immersed. Especially when he found the ones you wrote. He would ask you questions, and you answered what you could without giving him spoilers.

As he got more comfortable in the house he would spend more time in different places, and he also wouldn’t hide his tail. You taught him how to use the TV and anything else he was curious about. The stove was off limits, but you did promise to teach him to cook since he wanted to be able to do things for you. That wasn’t necessary but you appreciated his intentions. He still figured out some things himself, like peeling fruit and bringing you some to your office. Besides going out for the necessities, you both mainly stayed home. Seonghwa didn’t mind it all, having all he could need right here with you.

If he wanted to get some fresh out he could go out into the yard, which he did daily to water the plants and get some sunlight. He found all kinds of cool shows to watch, and looked for cooking videos so he could make you something. You did scold him when he made instant ramen since that involved using the stove, but you had to take it easy as he hadn’t hurt himself or burned anything. The ramen was actually quite good too. Although as much as you both loved to stay home together you still had some reasons to go out.

“Seonghwa.”

“Hm?”

“My friend invited me out to lunch tomorrow. Will you-”

“Can I come?”

“Uh… I don’t know if the place is hybrid friendly.”

“Oh.”

You couldn’t help but feel sad when you saw his ears drop. For the last couple days you two had been inseparable, and this would be the first time you leave him alone in the house. Thinking back on it you didn’t like that idea.

“Hold on, let me check.”

You looked up the place, and unfortunately they didn’t allow hybrids. That wasn’t good, so you figured maybe you could try something. You took Seonghwa’s hand and led him up to your room. You rummaged through your closet and pulled out a cute little beret, placing it on his head, giving him a smile.

“A hat?”

“The beret hides your ears, and you know how to hide your tail. You’d pass for a normal human dressed like this.”

“You mean I get to go with you?”

“I mean, if you want to. I don’t think hiding your identity is all that great-”

“I can do it as long as I get to be with you.”

“Alright, then let’s figure out your look.”

“I want us to match. Like a couples outfit.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

🖤

The next day you and Seonghwa went out together, meeting up with your friends at this brunch spot. They were excited to see you, although the looks on their faces turned to curiosity when they noticed Seonghwa at your side.

“Is that…?” Lyla questioned. “A hybrid? You-”

“Sh!”

“Oh my gosh…” Misu gasped. “It was you!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come here.”

You sat down with Seonghwa, all the girls now brimming with excitement.

“What is it?”

“So, a friend of mine told me they were at this hybrid cafe.” Misu began. “And while there they said there was this huge commotion about a hybrid attacking a guest, but then this other person opted to adopt them right then and there. The owner agreed and all, but now others have been asking to adopt some of the hybrids there, but that’s not something they do. I was wondering what cafe it was, and it turns out it was the one we went to. I asked what hybrid was adopted, and they said it was this pink cat. So I had to know if it was Seonghwa, so I went the other day and saw he was gone. I was gonna tell you all this but I see he went to a good home.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you adopted a hybrid?” Ava asked. “How long have you had him now.”

“It all kinda happened so fast, and it slipped my mind.”

“Well, now you gotta tell us all the juicy details.”

You ordered, getting Seonghwa something as well and hoping it was safe for him. Once you got your drinks you began to tell your friends about how you got Seonghwa. You didn’t have all the details, but you at least knew how it went down without exaggerating things. It was quite a fun brunch, but Seonghwa remained quiet. He didn’t really know these people, and he just wanted to be with you. This wouldn’t be the last time he went out in disguise with you. It wasn’t really something he minded, but what he didn’t like was that most of the time when you hung out with your friends it was like the cafe all over again. You were just there with them, sitting in silence and occasionally chiming in.

Of course it wasn’t always restaurants. Sometimes it would be shopping, ro some sort of event, but even then things seemed to be the same. You and him were just there, and because Seonghwa was always in disguise it would lead to some awkward moments. Sometimes girls would come up to Seonghwa, flirting with him and asking for his number. He didn’t have a phone, and honestly wasn’t sure how to deal with the situation most times. He’d always move over to you, and that seemed to imply you were his girlfriend and taken, so they’d leave him alone. Although many times that led to others bad mouthing you. That was the only time he really hated having sensitive hearing.

Other times people would already assume you were a couple, and that would lead to both of you trying to explain you were just friends. It really flustered you both, and it made your other friends giggle under their breath as they knew the real situation. He could get past all of that with no problem, but his real issue was how your supposed friends treated you. He understood you had known them for many years, but he wasn’t sure this was the way things were supposed to go. Of course he knew you were a quiet and shy person, but you had opened up with him. Seonghwa knew what you were really like, and that person didn’t seem to exist outside of him. At least it seemed that way. He didn’t like this, and so he took it upon himself to help. Since he always went out with you he’d be the one to ask if it was time to go home. He was a good excuse after all. If you were out too long with him, the risk of being discovered was greater.

“Y/n…” Seonghwa tugged on your shirt. “I wanna go home…”

“Yeah? Alright, we can go.”

You excused yourself from your friends, heading out with Seonghwa. When you made it back home Seonghwa wrapped his arms around you, giving you a hug from behind. He rested his chin on your shoulder for a bit before nuzzling your neck and tickling you.

“Cut it out, Seonghwa.” You laughed.

“But you’re so cute.”

“Ya, I have some work I need to do.”

“What?” Seonghwa whined. “We’ve been out all day. I want to spend time with you.”

“Seonghwa-”

“It’s not fair.” Seonghwa pouted. “It’s my turn to be with you.”

“You’re with me all day.”

“That’s not enough.”

“Alright, alright. How about this, you let me do some work for like an hour, then we’ll order some food and watch a movie. Is that good?”

“Hm… fine.”

“Good. Here.” You handed Seonghwa your phone. “Why don’t you find a place to order from, but remember, I get an hour to do work.”

“I know, I know.”

Seonghwa let you go and took your phone, letting you go off to your office to get some work done. He went over to the living room and plopped down on the couch, looking at the food options. While browsing he noticed you got a message from the group chat. He shouldn’t be nosy but he was curious when he noticed his name in the preview. He really shouldn’t have clicked on it, but he was also glad that he did. When he looked at the message he saw one of your friends commenting that you left too early,and that you shouldn’t bring him along if he was just gonna take you back home.

Seonghwa had so much to say back, but obviously he couldn’t. Instead he deleted the group chat and blocked them all from your contacts. They weren’t even real friends the way he was, so what they said didn’t matter and you shouldn’t spend any time with them. He was still upset but put it out of his head, setting an alarm for an hour and channel surfing once he figured out what he wanted to order. Time flew by pretty fast since before he knew it an hour had passed. He placed the order and then went up to your office to get you.

“Y/n.” He knocked before letting him in. “It’s been an hour.”

“Already, well, time does fly. Did you pick a place?”

“Yeah, and I already placed an order. So, what movie do you want to watch?”

“Hm, is there any type of genre you’re in the mood for?”

“I’m thinking romance.”

“Alright, I can work with that.”

Whenever you watched movies you’d always end up picking, as you knew more about them than him. Of course you still wanted his input and asked what type of movie he wanted to watch. You both always had fun with movie night. When the food arrived you went to get it while Seonghwa grabbed some plates and utensils. As you set things down on the coffee table you realized he had ordered drinks too.

“Seonghwa, did you order soju?”

“Yeah. I always wanted to try some and I figured we could have some tonight. Why? Can I not have some?”

“I… well it doesn’t hurt to try it. I’m just not a drinker.”

“Oh, sorry. I just-”

“It’s okay. A little drink won’t hurt me either.”

You ate and watched the film, letting Seonghwa have his first taste of alcohol. You weren’t surprised when he grimaced from the taste, and you did the same as well. You poured the drinks, but only really let Seonghwa have two, you didn’t want him getting sick after all. Of course since you didn’t drink much, and had most of the bottle, by the end of the night you were a bit drunk, and Seonghwa was tipsy.

“That was a good movie… so cute…”

“Have you ever had a romance like that?” Seonghwa asked.

“Me? No, no, I only write romance, I don’t experience it.”

“Hm? But you’re so pretty.”

“No, you’re the pretty one, everyone wants your number, mister secret hybrid.”

“It’s not a secret, but it makes it easier to go out with you. Besides, I don’t have a phone, even if I did, I wouldn’t be handing out my number.”

“That’s what you say now, but some of those girls were very pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you.”

“I’m pretty?”

“The prettiest.”

“Nah…”

“It’s true. I couldn’t have a prettier owner.”

“Stop, you’re just saying that cause you’re drunk.”

“Never. I’ll say it when I’m sober too.”

“You’ll just forget.”

“I won’t, I swear.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

Neither of you was really in a condition to clean up, so you both decided to head to bed. You got under the blankets and a while later Seonghwa joined you. He snuggled up against you, nuzzling your neck.

“You smell pretty, y/n.”

“Do I…”

“Like a dream, and I never wanna wake up.”

“Hm… that sounds good…”

“Y/n.”

“What…”

“Do you like me?”

“Of course… you’re the best…”

“What else?”

“Everything… everything about you… is great…”

“But you haven’t seen everything.”

“Like what?”

“Me… me showing you…”

“Showing me what…”

“How much I really like you.”

“Hm… I like you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…”

“Then… can I…”

Seonghwa gently moved over to get on top of you. Your eyes were half open as you were already drifting off to sleep. He stared at you for a while. This wasn’t the first time he had seen you sleepy, many nights before he’d watch you sleep, finding you so cute, but tonight he wanted something more. He slowly leaned down to press his lips to yours. It was soft and gentle, a hint of alcohol in the mix. It took a moment to realize what was happening, and then your eyes were wide and you placed your hand on Seonghwa’s chest, pushing him back a bit.

“What are you doing…”

“I wanna show you how much I care about you.”

“Seonghwa… this… this isn’t right…”

“Why? I-”

“You’re a hybrid and-”

“That doesn’t matter. Everyone already thinks we’re together, so why can’t I-”

“Seonghwa, this… I…”

“I won’t hurt you.”

Before you could say anything more Seonghwa grabbed your arms and pinned them above your head, kissing you once again. You were still shocked by his actions, but you couldn’t do much to fight back. His grip was strong, and the alcohol in your system was making everything fuzzy for you. The kiss was deep, and good, and without meaning too you started kissing back. When Seonghwa pulled away from your lips he began to press kisses against your neck, breathing in your scent deeply. He kept you pinned, pressing his body against yours. For the first time you began to notice the thing between his legs. 

You both had been sharing a bed for weeks now, but you were never really bothered by his crotch area, that is until today. You could feel it poking at you, starting to see Seonghwa as more than just your hybrid pet. You never imagined something like this would happen. You may have written things alluding to this, but never between two individuals so different. Your heart was racing and you could feel your face burning from the shyness and alcohol. The more you tried to free your arms the stronger Seonghwa held onto you. It was still difficult to think straight but you had to try something.

“Seonghwa… Seonghwa, wait… wait, wait… I’ve never…”

“Me neither.” Seonghwa whispered into your ear. “And I want my first to be you.”

“You’re drunk… we’re both and-”

“I’ve heard that alcohol gives someone courage… and I’ve wanted to do something like this for a long time.”

“Seonghwa-”

“Please, just let me take care of you.”

His lips were back on your neck, pressing more kisses and starting to suck on the skin. You were trying not to get lost in the feeling of him. It was difficult, but you began to whimper when you felt pin-pricks on your arm. All you got was a mumbled apology from Seonghwa, realizing his claws were drawn and slightly digging into your skin. That made you go still, starting to remember his other abilities as a hybrid. Just as you were thinking it, you felt it, this sharpest that came with every kiss.

“Seonghwa…”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“You can’t-”

You let out a yelp when you felt a bite on your shoulder, desperately fighting against Seonghwa, but all you heard was a low growl of the word mine. Seonghwa looked over at you, and his eyes told you he was beyond reason. He wanted you so bad, and no one could stop him, not even you. He pulled you into a kiss, using the distraction to release your arms and begin to undress you. He started by pulling down your pants and panties, leaving you exposed. You thought he might pull off your shirt, but instead he placed kisses on your jaw before diving down under the covers. You only had a moment of peace before you felt him bury his face between your legs.

Your hands shot down to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. His hands were at your thighs, kneading the flesh and pulling your legs apart, trying to go in deeper. The cold and wetness of his tongue felt so strange, and yet so nice. You couldn’t help the content moan that escaped your lips. Seonghwa purred when he heard you, the vibrations creating a whole new feeling. At first you had been trying to get him off you, but now your hands were merely petting his head, pulling him closer. He kept licking at your folds, sucking on the little bud down there like it was a lollipop. Your mind was spinning as you forgot how you wound up in this situation.

Seonghwa’s hands eventually trailed up, gropping your breasts and massaging them gently, taking you to a whole other world. You kept squirming from his touch, not knowing if you wanted more or for this to stop. This heat was building inside you, making you excited and fearful of what it meant. Eventually Seonghwa gripped your shirt and ripped it apart, his glistening lips leaving a trail of kiss marks as he made his way up your body. You had no idea when he had undressed, but you felt his naked body against yours, and soon enough you felt his length poking at your entrance. 

The feeling startled you and you closed your legs a bit. Seonghwa chuckled and pressed a kiss to your lips, one of his knees dipping between your legs and pushing them open. You were out of breath from the kiss, Seonghwa as well. He pressed his head against yours, eyes closed. He knew you better than anyone else. You saved him in ways you couldn’t comprehend, and he just wanted to give you everything he was. This was his moment, and he wouldn’t waste it. Seonghwa’s hands trailed down to your hips, pulling you closer to him, pushing himself into you, inch by inch. Your mouth hung open in silent ecstasy as you felt the stretch, consumed by something you couldn’t describe.

“… fuck…”

“Are you okay?”

“… yeah, yeah… just feels… weird…”

“But you’re alright?”

“I… I think so…”

“Good… good… you feel so good…”

“Seonghwa…”

“I’m gonna start moving… that should make it better.”

Seonghwa started off moving slowly, gently pulling out and going back in, going at a steady rhythm. It felt strange, it sounded weird, but the feelings it created were all new. In a way it was also soothing, letting you relax into the sensation and let it consume you. Of course as he kept at it his thrusts became faster and harder, you felt him wanting to go in deeper, but there was only so much of you he could feel. You were begging to lose yourself in him, in this heat that was consuming every bit of you. Wherever his fingers touched it sparked something inside you. It was hard to think of anything besides the pleasure you were feeling.

“Seonghwa… fuck… feels… feels good…”

“I got you.”

“… please… please… I wanna…”

You never imagined your first would be like this, but there was no going back now. As Seonghwa’s thrusts got sloppy he pulled you up into his arms, moving up into you and making you bounce. He leaned down to kiss at your chest, sucking on your nipples. You could feel him pushing you over the edge, and you were desperate to hold on. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. One moment you were riding this high and then you exploded with a new wave of pleasure. You were overwhelmed, your whole body shaking in Seonghwa’s embrace, pushing him to climax as well. You felt something warm between your legs, but were more focused on the tiny ripples coursing through you.

Seonghwa laid you back down, his hips twitching and pushing into you, riding out his own high and trying to get this feeling to last as long as possible. His hot breath was against your ear, sending a different type of tingle down your body. He didn’t loosen his hold on you as you both came down from your high, just softly nuzzling your cheek. Your head was still spinning, and you were quite exhausted, but Seonghwa wasn’t done with you. He whispered something in your ear that you couldn’t make out, but next thing you knew he was moving his hips again. You whimpered, your body too exhausted to do anything but take it.

You tried to speak, but you didn’t have the strength to move your lips. Your vision was mostly black as exhaustion was pulling you under, and for a moment you did pass out. When you regained consciousness you felt another wave of pleasure washing over you, whimpering as your body was trembling. Seonghwa was on your neck, sucking on the skin as he kept thrusting into you, taking advantage of your sensitive state. It didn’t seem like he was gonna let up anytime soon, and you could feel minor aches all over your arms and back. Although that wasn’t what your mind was focused on. 

Your mouth was hanging open with a bit of drool spilling out. You felt weightless, like you were floating on a cloud, and you felt so warm and safe in Seonghwa’s embrace. It wasn’t long before you slipped under, into the darkness once more, only to emerge from it when the pleasure hit again. You felt a bit bloated down there, not able to see much besides Seonghwa’s blurry face. Despite wanting to grasp reality you didn’t stay awake for much longer, passing out once again. The next time you regained consciousness there was sunlight peeking in through the blinds, telling you it was morning. Seonghwa was hugging you from behind, and you could feel that his length was still buried inside you. Your slight movements stirred him from his slumber. He nuzzled your neck sleepily.

“Morning…”

“Seonghwa… last night…”

“Was amazing… y/n… you’re the best thing that ever happened to me…”

“Hm…”

“We should probably clean up… we made a mess last night.”

“Right.”

You were still half asleep, but you did want to get up. When you tried though Seonghwa moved as well, making you jump a bit. He chuckled and apologized, moving away from you first. His absence felt kind of strange, given he had been inside you all night. Seonghwa got out of bed and helped you sit up. He seemed to be in a much better condition than you. He helped you to your feet and took you over to the bathroom. It wasn’t until you sat down on the edge of the bathtub that you realized you were completely naked. You covered yourself, which made Seonghwa laugh. He was also naked.

“I’ve seen everything.”

Seonghwa placed a kiss on your cheek and turned on the shower head, waiting for the water to warm up before helping you into the tub. You couldn’t really stand so he had you sit, taking care of washing you up. Once you had been completely soaked he stepped in, getting himself wet before plugging the drain and filling up the tub, he sat behind you, pulling you close. He placed lazy kisses on your cheek, seeing that you were dozing off a bit. He didn’t mind, having no problem washing you up, he was just careful not to get any soap in your eyes. After the bath he helped you get out and dried you off.

He set you down on a chair in your room while he changed the bedsheets. Things had gotten messy last night, but it wasn’t so bad. He put the sheets to wash and grabbed some fresh ones. Once that was done he laid you down to sleep, giving you a soft kiss. He made you breakfast and brought it up for you, making sure you ate a bit before going back to sleep. It wasn’t the same though, to be in bed without him. So when he came over to check in you grabbed his arm and asked him to stay. You didn’t need to tell him twice as he happily got into  bed with you, pulling you into his arms and spooning you.

That day you practically slept it away, needing the time to recover after such a night. It wasn’t until the next morning that you could actually get up. You left Seonghwa in bed, getting up to prepare for the day ahead. As you were washing up you noticed your arms, seeing all the claw marks Seonghwa had left. They didn’t hurt so bad, but they definitely stung. You had those same feelings along your back and managed to check in the mirror, seeing similar claw marks. It really had been a wild night, and that’s not counting the minor bite marks you had along your shoulders and neck. The door suddenly opened and a sleepy Seonghwa came in, wrapping his arms around you.

“Morning…”

“Good morning.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, and you?”

“Never better.”

“Seonghwa… about us…”

“Hm? We’re perfect, aren’t we?”

“I… what happened…”

“You liked it, right? I looked up some videos and practiced on myself to make sure I did it right.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “You looked up porn? And you practiced on yourself?”

“Yeah, it was very helpful.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But cute, right?”

You looked at Seonghwa through the mirror, seeing that his eyes were on you. He looked so happy and sweet. As you thought back on that night you could only think about how much he cared for you the last couple of weeks, and recently. There seems to be nothing but good intentions behind his actions, and you couldn’t fault him for that. You smiled and met Seonghwa’s eyes.

“You’re very cute.”

He pressed his lips against yours, letting you finish up before he got ready for the day. He helped you rub some lotion over your wounds, still apologizing for them. You spent the day catching up in your office, getting back to the way things were. At least how they are with Seonghwa now in your life. He’d steal kisses from you whenever he could, doing his best to be a good support for you.

“Seonghwa.”

“Hm?”

“Have you seen my phone? I haven’t been able to find it for-”

“I have it.”

“Huh? Why do you have it?”

“Cause you’re always misplacing it.” Seonghwa pulled out your phone. “And speaking of, your editor is calling.”

“Oh shoot, thanks.”

Seonghwa held out the phone to you which you hurriedly took. You stepped away to take the call, Seonghwa watching you go, happy he could help. You returned after the call wondering what he was working on. While he explained what he was making he snuck your phone away from you and put it in his pocket. You didn’t need to have it on you, and of course he’d hand it to you when it was important. Before he didn’t like being stuck in one place, but he much rather stay home with you all day everyday than go out with other people. You were all he needed.

🖤

“Seonghwa…”

“Hm?”

“The door…”

“They’ll go away.” Seonghwa mumbled. “Just ignore it.”

“Did you order something…”

“No, but I’ll go check.” Seonghwa kissed your cheek. “You stay here.”

“Hm…”

Seonghwa groggily got up, making his way downstairs as the doorbell kept ringing. He opened the door slightly, hissing when he noticed it was one of your friends.

“Oh, hi Seonghwa, how are-”

“What do you want?”

“I’m here to see y/n. I sent a message in the group chat about brunch but she didn’t respond so I thought I’d come to see her.”

“We’re good.”

“Uh… can I at least talk to her.”

“No.”

“Seonghwa, I’m not-”

“Seonghwa.” You yawned. “Who’s at the door?”

Seonghwa tried to shut the door, but your friend pushed her way in. She went over to you, meeting you at the bottom of the stairs and pulling you into a hug. You were still in your pajamas, and it was hard for her not to notice the faded marks on your body.

“Uh… what happened to you?”

“Nothing, what are you doing here so early, Misu?”

“I sent you a message in the group chat. We were gonna meet up for brunch today, but we never heard back.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t really had my phone on me anymore.”

“Really? No wonder you haven’t responded.” Misu commented. “Anyway, I came to get you, so, let’s go.”

“I don’t wanna go out for brunch.” Seonghwa whined. “I wanna go back to bed.”

“Actually, I was hoping today would be like a girls brunch.”

“Y/n.”

Seonghwa pouted and came over to you, taking your hands and turning you away from your friend. He was whining and acting childish.

“You can’t leave me by myself.” Seonghwa cried. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Awe… Misu, are you sure he can’t come?”

“Fine. I guess he can.”

“Awesome, we’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Alright.”

You gave Seonghwa a smile and led him upstairs. He dragged a bit, not wanting to go, but he knew he wasn’t going to let you go alone.

“You know we don’t have to go.” Seonghwa mentioned. “The bed’s still warm.”

“It’s brunch, and I bet the girls picked a nice place.”

“Okay.”

Seonghwa made sure that your outfits were matching, and then you went over to the brunch spot. The other girls were happy to see you and Seonghwa. It had been a while since you last saw each other, so this was a great time to catch up. A while after ordering Seonghwa excused himself to the restroom, leaving you alone with the girls.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I see the marks on you, did Seonghwa do that?”

“What marks!?” Ava questioned. “Let me see!”

“It’s nothing.” You countered. “You know cats have claws and stuff.”

“Yeah, but you have all kinds of marks.” Misu stated. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the bites on your shoulder.”

“I… it’s nothing…”

“Has he been hurting you?”

“What!?”

“I’ve heard stories about hybrids hurting their owners, it’s not crazy.”

“Has that cat been abusing you?” Lyla asked. “I swear it’s always the quiet ones you have to be weary of.”

“No, no, nothing like that. He’s not hurting me or anything.”

“Then how do you explain all the marks? Plus the bites?”

“Wait…” Misu pondered. “Did he… sleep-”

“Misu!”

“Holy shit.” Ava realized. “You fucken slept with-”

“Lower your voice!” You hissed. “We’re in public.”

“I cannot believe you would-”

“Hold on.” Lyla cut in. “Did you agree to it? Cause a hybrid might-”

“Oh my gosh! Y/n, did that hybrid force-”

“No, no, I swear it’s not like that… we just had some drinks and then… one thing led-”

“So you were drunk?”

“Not really…”

“Y/n, did you like, consent to this?”

“I mean… yeah… it was a whole thing and… yeah…”

“I’m not so sure I believe you.”

“He didn’t do anything I didn’t like.”

“Pretty sure that’s not exactly how those things work.”

“I’m fine.”

🖤

When Seonghwa got to the restroom he splashed some water in his face. He wanted to go back home more than anything, and he needed to figure out a good excuse. He felt the water running through his fingers, noticing he could choose the temperature. He changed the water to hot and grabbed a towel to soak in it. He began to dab himself with the towel, starting to feel hot himself. Before stepping out of the bathroom he made sure he was dry, and that his face was burning. His plan was to head straight back for the table, but he was interrupted.

“Do I know you? It’d be hard to forget a face like yours.”

“Get out of my way.”

“You don’t have to be so rude. I’m just saying you-”

“I have a girlfriend.”

Seonghwa shoved the other aside and returned to the table, making sure to change his demeanor. He paid no mind to the look your friends gave him and merely took his seat. He whimpered and leaned against you, acting sick.

“Is everything okay, Seonghwa?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” You reached to touch Seonghwa’s forehead. “Seonghwa, you’re burning up! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling sick?”

“I’m okay…”

“That’s hardly true.” You got up, pulling Seonghwa to his feet. “I’m sorry girls, rain check on brunch, I need to take him home.”

“But-”

“I’ll make it up to you girls, I promise.”

You made your way out while holding onto Seonghwa, being careful as you got him in the car. He seemed half asleep, and you were mentally cursing yourself out for not noticing sooner. When you got to the house you took him upstairs to the bedroom, laying him down. You started to help him undress, needing to tuck him in and make him some porridge. Next thing you knew Seonghwa yanked you forward and wound up on top of you.

“Seonghwa- I thought you were sick?”

“How else was I gonna convince you to come home.”

“Are you serious? I haven’t seen the girls and-”

“I don’t like them.”

“Who?”

“The girls.”

“Seonghwa, they’re nice and-”

“Not to you.”

“Huh?”

“They invite you out and claim to be your friends, but they don’t really talk to you. It’s the same now as it was then.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Back at the cafe. They brought you along , but you didn’t really talk to them. And every other time you’ve gone out with them, you’re kinda just there.”

“Seonghwa, they know I don’t socialize much and-”

“But you do with me.”

“That’s different.”

“Because I’m a hybrid?”

“No, no, that’s not it. I’m just-”

“You actually like me. You’re comfortable around me, you have been from the very beginning.”

“Seonghwa…”

“No one else knows you like I do. You’re not really you when you’re with anyone else. If those people were really different, if they really cared about you, they’d bring out the best in you, like me.”

“…”

“You don’t need anybody else but me.”

Seonghwa kissed you deeply, pulling you into his arms. He was purring into your ear as he nuzzled your neck.

“Let’s just stay home, just you and me.”

“Seonghwa.”

“I love you, and I don’t want anyone to hurt you. Please, trust me.”

“…” 

Seonghwa’s words rang in your head, and it was hard to deny it. You liked your friends, you had known each other for so long, but many times you felt like you didn’t belong. It was only really when you were with Seonghwa that you felt like your true self. 

“Do you trust me?”

“I do…”

“Do you love me?”

“I do.”

“I do too.” Seonghwa grabbed your chin, kissing you. “We only need each other.”

#ateez #seonghwa #park seonghwa #ateez au #atz #atz au #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho

[autistichalsin]

I have tried to avoid discourse around this ever since November, but since people are once again upset at the ultimatum (which doesn't seem to trigger in game yet, though it has been voiced) I guess I will offer my defense of Halsin.

A lot of the anger at Halsin here boils down to "he's against Minthara, therefore fuck Halsin," ignoring that Halsin has very good reasons to not trust her. (And also purposeful misinterpretation of his comments about HER to be about all Drow).

So first of all: We need to look at what has happened to Halsin in his life before arriving at this point.

Yes, obviously, there is his captivity with a Drow noble house, but I think people are kind of just forgetting what that means here. It isn't "he hates all Drow now because of his trauma", which is an almost insultingly reductive take. Minthara is from House Baenre, the top house of Menzoberranzan for centuries. She is at LEAST 200 years old, and likely older; she witnessed the downfall of House DeVir, and was old enough for her to fully understand it, but "young enough that it left quite an impression on me", likely placing her between 200 and 300 years old. Halsin is 350, and was kidnapped as a young Druid- likely between 100 and 175. There is a very good chance that Minthara was a young adult when he was a captive, and he would have heard about her evil actions long before encountering her in the goblin camp. He would know who she was before the tadpole.

Halsin was a captive for at least a few days if not longer, tortured in his bear form (the goblin lashers are mentioned at least a few times, not to mention rocks being thrown at him, Gut mentioning threatening to cut him open and put maggots in his belly, etc), and had his Grove threatened by Minthara.

Most important, and most easy to miss: this ultimatum is planned for if the Rite of Thorns is carried out, hence the reference to Kagha's foolishness. He has lost his home, his place of worship, and the people he considers his family forever. Watch his reaction after you tell him the Rite has been carried out; his world comes crashing down, he lets out the tiniest "the Rite of Thorns? no", and he is so upset he no longer asks you to take out the leaders. He says he needs to be alone for a while. He is grieving the loss of everything he had, everything that got him through the loss of his original family, and it is directly because of the Cult of the Absolute.

Now, let me go through some rebuttals to arguments in Minthara's favor.

She doesn't mean Halsin any harm at this point.

Rebuttal: Halsin has no way of knowing this. Her actions have already demonstrated otherwise- she has caused him harm. He has no tadpole to see her true intentions, like the other players, and Minthara doesn't make her case particularly well. She simply says she "has no quarrel" with him. Not an apology for his sufferings in the past or the loss of his home. If she doesn't regret the harm she caused him, he has no reason to trust her.

And of course, Minthara DOESN'T feel any remorse, whether or not she raids the Grove; if she does succeed, she'll later say her only regret is not making the choice to do it herself. Because she is evil and that's how evil characters work.

2. Halsin works with Shadowheart/Lae'zel/Astarion/an evil-aligned player; Halsin is willing to sleep with the Seldarine Drow twins; Halsin is forgiving and wants a better world for all, this should clearly include Minthara too.

Rebuttal: by rescuing him and saving the Grove, the former four have shown themselves to be capable of good deeds. He is very consistent that his one redline is DO NOT FUCK WITH HIS GROVE. If you DO NOT FUCK WITH HIS GROVE, he will give you the benefit of the doubt. If you FUCK WITH HIS GROVE, he is done with you; if the player raids the Grove, he will hunt them down and attack them, no matter what the player tries to talk him out of it.

FURTHER, he very much calls the party out on any future evil deeds they do (I.E. Shadowheart slaying the Nightsong if she's on the Shar path), and will leave the party if the player sinks their approval low enough.

The Drow twins are Seldarine, not Lolthsworn, and having a one-night-stand is very different than trusting someone as an ally.

The "wanting a better world for all" thing is of course subject to the paradox of tolerance. In the epilogue, it is very specifically mentioned that their commune is "hidden from those who are not welcome, open to any who need shelter." I.E. those who want to cause harm are not welcome to it, because the "better world for all" can't allow, by design, those who DON'T want a better world for all.

3. Halsin hates her because she's a Drow.

He specifically mentions Lolth-sworn Drow here. "Cruelty comes to Lolth's followers as naturally as breathing. I have seen it- experienced it." Minthara literally only abandoned those ways because she was abandoned by Lolth first- only when it suited her.

She still supports all the same teachings (which is why she openly insults surface elf players the first time they meet, and will tell an elf player who becomes a mindflayer that it was an "improvement"), and she uses slurs against surface elves to boot. Minthara is far more racist against surface elves than Halsin EVER is against Drow.

4. Halsin is condemning Minthara to a fate worse than death (unspoken: out of spite) and this makes him not a good person.

Halsin fully believes Minthara to be a threat to himself and the player. He says in as many words that if it's a choice between Minthara's freedom and the player's, he picks the player. In his eyes, it's a choice between Minthara's freedom and the fate of the world since he knows the player is the only one who can defeat the Absolute. He's in a dilemma similar to the player having to decide whether to let Orpheus die or turn the Emperor into an enemy- it's just that people don't realize because we have meta-knowledge, as players, that Halsin doesn't.

5. That "viper" comment is hypocritical.

He isn't referring to Drow as a whole. He is referring to Minthara herself.

Remember, he knew Kagha before she went bad, and knew she was capable of better (better enough that he made her his second in command). All he would know of Minthara was what she did in the Underdark as a Baenre (including owning slaves, which I'm sure didn't do her any favors), what she nearly did to his Grove, what she allowed to happen to him, and that she's now claiming to have changed when showing zero remorse or actual interest in changing anything. Perhaps it was wrong for him to phrase it it as "cannot" change instead of "will not" change for her, but the sentiment is spot on. Minthara doesn't fundamentally change in any path the player brings her on- what changes is, at best, who she considers it acceptable to subjugate.

6. Halsin has no stakes here, it's wrong for him to demand Minthara go when she has more to lose.

Again, Halsin views Minthara as an existential threat to their plan to save the world. He is lacking in personal stakes by comparison, but remember; he also has lost the only home he knows. That is no small thing.

(From a meta perspective, I do think they should have done something like mention the Shadow Druids/Ketheric Thorm loyalists are still hunting Halsin, just to make it more fair, but this was clearly written with the main goal of enforcing the exclusivity. And honestly, I can't imagine all that many people actually want both in the same party on every playthrough? Mostly I saw people wanting to recruit Minthara on good playthroughs, and wanting to not have to abandon the Shadow Cursed Lands to darkness; many of the people I saw expressing this specifically said they wanted to dismiss Halsin after accomplishing that. This seemed like exactly what those players would have wanted, being able to spare the Grove, free the SCL, and then dismiss Halsin and travel with Minthara.)

7. Halsin owes the player his unquestioning trust after they saved him/his Grove/broke the Shadow Curse. He has no right to question their judgment.

This... really isn't a good way to think? He shows his gratitude by traveling with them to help (when he has no tadpole at all- he's doing this out of pure selflessness to thank the player for helping him), but that doesn't mean he should stop having thoughts on the goings-on. Where is this energy when other characters continuously question your judgment when you have them wait at camp?

8. Halsin is being stupid by allowing her to go be mind controlled by the Absolute.

This is one I will concede. It's not the wisest decision, and I can only guess it's because they didn't want to write Minthara automatically going aggro on the player if they choose Halsin over her. (I, on the other hand, think that would be brilliant, and would be a mark in Halsin's favor for this choice.)

9. This is manipulation of the player.

Halsin wishes the player the best, and leaves without fuss, if they choose Minthara over him; he thanks them for all they've done, and he even says he hopes he's wrong, but cannot stay to find out. He is being sincere; he believes he, and probably the player, will be killed if Minthara stays, which in turn puts the fate of the world in question. He will accept the player's decision if they choose her, but he feels threatened and won't stay himself. This is a boundary, not manipulation, not malice, not anything else.

10. Halsin comes across as uncompromising/unsympathetic; this is OOC for Halsin/ruins his character; he is being selfish; other assorted similar sentiments

I already addressed most of the other arguments with the points above, but I will say, truthfully: I don't find this particularly OOC at all. He has been very clear that his one and only rule is DO NOT FUCK WITH THE GROVE. Minthara fucked with the Grove. He has no reason to trust her. And he has ALSO been incredibly consistent: if you are in a situation where it's someone else or you, you have every right to choose to save yourself. He shows sympathy if Wyll has to let Ravengard die, he doesn't blame the player if they kill EVERY DRUID IN THE GROVE to save the Tieflings, he doesn't even blame the player if they order Orin-as-Lae'zel to kill Yenna, an innocent child he was very attached to. He is devastated at the latter two, clearly, but he blames the Druids for the second for forgetting their principles, and he blames Orin for the latter for making the trap. This is perfectly in line with his Druidic beliefs; you have every right to protect yourself first and foremost.

I get that a lot of people don't like the ultimatum (worth noting is that this has always been part of the series; in the first two games, characters of different alignments would outright refuse to work with each other), but it really doesn't make Halsin look as bad as people say, and I feel like a lot of people are being really callous/dismissive/reductive to what Halsin has been through here.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

[valeriianz]

Here’s another half-formed dreamling fic with them stuck in a snow storm while flurries currently whistle past my windows (and cover my screens in white).

Dream, sitting on the floor of his kitchen, surrounded by candles because the power is out, and sipping a glass of red wine. He’s bundled in a blanket and desperately failing to conserve battery on his phone, by texting Hob, who’s also lost power.

Dream slouches back against his oven, of which the burners are on to give off some blessed heat (thank God his oven is gas), while he reads the latest message from Hob, lamenting how bleeding cold it is in his own apartment, a newly renovated chrome building on the edge of the city, where everything, including the heat, was electric.

Dream mourns for him, even though Hob makes light of the situation with his witty texts and flirtatious hints of how Dream could warm him up.

They’d only been on a handful of dates, not yet fallen into bed together… Dream awkwardly explaining to Hob that it took a while, if at all, for sexual attraction to form within a new relationship. Hob had, surprisingly, taken it in stride. Becoming patient and thoughtful, always communicating, and never pushing Dream’s limits. 

It was refreshing, and– to Dream’s complete surprise– he’d found himself falling hard for the other man. Who knew a simple acknowledgment to boundaries would get him so wound up? His pulse quickened with every smile Hob gave him, his stomach tying itself in knots whenever Hob would take his hand, and his brain completely shutting off when Hob would kiss him. Chaste things that had progressively turned more and more heated with every encounter. Promising something more and more each time they met.

Currently, the sounds of his windows rattling from the flurries outside fill his dark apartment, along with the flutter of the open flames on his stove, and the quiet drip, drip, drip of the kitchen tap (to prevent frozen pipes, Dream had learned that lesson the hard way last winter).

After about an hour of texting Hob, Dream nearly halfway done with the bottle of wine, he receives a text that makes his heart jump.

So, what if i told you im actually outside your building?

Dream stood up so suddenly the candles around him nearly snuffed themselves out.

He yanked on his boots and pulled on his oversized winter coat, stumbling to his front door and marching down the stairs of the apartment complex he resided in, the age of which you could smell in its walls, see in the cracks and warps in the wooden floors. He made it down to the entrance and pulled open the door, the ice cold wind smacking Dream in the face immediately.

But then he saw a smudge of brown in the whiteness approaching. Dream kicked down the snow that had piled up at the door and waded forward in knee deep snow to meet Hob halfway and help him past the threshold.

Once the door slammed shut behind them, Dream took a proper look at Hob.

“You look like the abominable snowman.”

Hob laughed. He was absolutely covered in snow, piled high on his shoulders, his boots, even on his eyelashes.

“I feel like one.” Hob said, his voice cracked and breathless.

Once they’re back inside Dream’s apartment, and Hob’s outer layers have been stripped off and hung in the shower to drip dry, Dream sets off to boil water on the stove top for tea.

They sit on Dream’s couch, sharing a blanket and sipping tea while Dream admonishes Hob for coming out in the middle of a storm. What was he thinking?? To which Hob just shrugs and curls his nearly numb fingers around the hot mug, snuggling even further into Dream’s side and sighing.

“Worth it, to see you.”

“You’re insane,” Dream says, but smiles through it. 

Hob’s skin glows with the orange and yellow flickering of the candles, his features softening and barely noticeable in the limited light. But Dream knows them by now. Knows the curve of Hob’s thick, dark eyebrows, down to the scruff of his jaw, and back up to the prominent shape of his nose. He’s always handsome, but right now, shadowed in soft light and his cheeks still pink from the cold, he’s lovely. And Dream can’t help but set his mug down, taking Hob’s as well, and kissing him.

His lips arm warm from the tea, and he tastes of lavender and honey, and it makes Dream want. Want to climb onto Hob’s lap and crawl inside him. Make a nest for himself– warm and safe and cared for under Hob’s breast bone. There he could listen to the rhythmic beat of his heart, how it thunders now, under Dream’s hand as he caresses down Hob’s sweater and gets teasing fingers under the hem, touching the soft flesh of his hips and stomach.

Hob moans into his mouth, making Dream’s skull vibrate and he nearly gives in, something dark and unknown swirling in his lower belly that drives his fingers to press harder, feel the texture of Hob’s skin, the smattering of hairs at his stomach, but he forces himself to slow down, to take it easy, to enjoy and luxuriate in what they have now. 

Hob, miraculously, follows along. His own hands cupping each side of Dream’s head and only getting his fingers in his hair, matching Dream’s pace, kissing back with no intention of more unless Dream initiated. Moving his mouth at Dream’s pace, breaking apart and nudging his nose and lips under his jaw and nuzzling behind Dream’s ear and making him shudder pleasantly.

“Dream, Dream…” Hob mumbles, seemingly content in just kissing, just holding one another. “I could do this for hours.”

Dream grips the hem of Hob’s sweater, holding tightly as to prevent himself from ripping it off Hob. Another time, very soon, he knows. Dream has every intention to give into the temptation that is Hob Gadling, but the waiting is so much more fun. The anticipation, the slow understanding of his own feelings brimming up to the surface, will be that much more satisfying when he’s certain Hob will reciprocate them.

Hob just might love him back, right now. But Dream waits. Though, he does allow himself a confession:

“I could do this forever.”

#and then they roasted marshmallows on the stove #and snuggled in bed and it was perfect #dreamling #hob x dream #ace/demisexual Dream #it's cold as balls here and oh how i wish for a Hob Gadling of my own #my writing

[sodasa-was-taken]

Romantic foils done right: How G-Witch uses romantic foils

Or why none of the characters who showed interest in Miorine and Suletta ever posed a threat to them getting together.

So, after the unexpected response to my last analysis and some recent discussions, I felt inspired to make another one. This time about romantic foils, a frequently misused but great tool in romances. I hope you enjoy it.

As far as I can tell, G-Witch has five romantic foils: Guel, El4n, Shaddiq, El5n, and Sophie.

In romances, when a character is in contrast to one of the main characters as a romantic option, they're a romantic foil. Having romantic foils in a story can be a great way to show what the principal characters see in each other. This is done by showcasing what the characters like and dislike about characters with contrasting attributes to the one they'll end up with.

Sometimes, it can feel like a romantic foil is just there to create cheap drama, often when they're a romantic rival, i.e., actively trying to get in the way of the main characters becoming a thing. Other times, when one of the focal characters isn’t the best person, an author might have a character who’s a romantic rival be even more of an asshole to make the character look better in comparison. This doesn’t make the character look better; it just creates a pick-your-poison situation. Furthermore, jackass and even more of a jackass ain’t foils since there isn’t any contrast. That isn’t to say that romantic foils can’t be antagonistic. Many of the romantic foils in G-Witch are also antagonists. In cases where a romantic foil is an antagonist, they emphasize the virtues of the characters they’re a foil to by being everything they’re not.    

Guel, foil to Suletta – At the beginning of the show, Guel is everything Suletta is not regarding their treatment and intentions towards Miorine. Suletta is apologetic to a fault, while Guel pushes Miorine around like he owns her. Guel is abrasive, while Suletta is considerate. He’s ostentatious, and she’s shy. Crucially, Suletta’s shyness doesn’t prevent her from having pride in herself. She just doesn’t need to show off like Guel.

Miorine grows fond of Suletta for the same reason she dislikes Guel. He’s the embodiment of everything Miorine hates about her predicament, and Suletta is the opposite. Although Miorine sees them as two sides of the same coin at first, both are out to insert themselves into her life, just in different ways. Except as Miorine soon enough learns, Suletta had no intention of doing so but just couldn’t stand by while seeing someone in distress. Side note: It’s ironic how opposed Miorine is to Suletta interfering in her life when Miorine later follows Suletta around like a lost puppy and insists on helping her any chance she gets. 

Attributes Miorine likes about Suletta that Guel notably lacks include, but are not limited to, her humbleness, her upbeat nature, her gratefulness, and her commitment to doing what she thinks is right. Also relevant if you think Miorine is a Lesbian; Suletta is a girl.   

When it comes to why they become the Holder, Guel is doing it for himself, and Miorine is simply a prize to be won. Suletta, on the other hand, ends up as the Holder unintentionally, dueling to help out Miorine rather than to have her. In fact, when she learns that being a woman does not exempt her from being Miorine’s groom, she goes full blue screen of death. 

Guel, foil to Miorine – Straight from one character’s romantic foil to the other. Guel is Suletta's foil until he catches feelings for her and shifts to become Miorine's. After being the first demonstration of Suletta's extreme discomfort with someone coming on too strong Guel denies his affection for Suletta. This happens shortly after Miorine has Suletta donning the uniform which shows the two are engaged.

In episode nine, while Miorine does everything she can to guarantee they win the duel against Grassley House, Guel won’t even fight because Dad told him he wasn’t allowed to duel. He doesn’t want Earth House and, more specifically, Suletta to lose, but not enough to disobey his father.

At the backend of season two, Guel becomes a regular foil to Miorine instead of a romantic foil since he’s no longer interested in getting with Suletta or, as he puts it, there are more important things than whatever feelings he might have for Suletta. This means he isn’t being motivated by those feelings the same way Miorine is by her love for Suletta and can, therefore, look a bit more objectively. It also means that he doesn’t stop Miorine from doing something he sees as fruitless because helping her break Suletta’s heart is a prize he’s willing to pay to save Jeturk Heavy Machinery.            

Side note: Guel does his job as a foil quite well, but because he’s a foil, his prominence is completely unwarranted. It might’ve been a little more reasonable if he was the only romantic foil, but this story has five. Giving this much attention to a romantic foil in a romance about a straight couple would be unthinkable. Still, because the story is about a same-sex couple, they can’t be the image of their own story.     

El4n, foil to Miorine – El4n is the only romantic foil in the story, highlighting the flaws of the one he's a foil to. His function in the show is to get Miorine worked up and showcase that Suletta isn't the type to pine. Side note: Suletta appears to be quite binary when it comes to others having feelings for her. Either they like her romantically, or they never will.

From very early on, El4n shows a fondness for Suletta, which Miorine is having none of. Later on, El4n asks Suletta out to get to Aerial. Side note: Gotta love how Miorine compares Suletta and El4n to Romeo and Juliet, considering that if any characters in this series have their budding relationship sabotaged by the feud between their families, it’s Miorine and Suletta. 

When El4n learns that Suletta isn’t an Enhanced Person like himself, his demeanor towards Suletta changes on the spot. The progression of Suletta’s relationship with El4n is an inversion of her relationship with Miorine. Where Miorine had to overcome a misconception about Suletta for her fondness for Suletta to grow, a misconception about Suletta is what El4n's fondness for Suletta initially sprung from. Additionally, El4n asks Suletta out because he wants something from her, while Miorine pretends she wants something from Suletta, but in truth, she wants to prevent Suletta from becoming the one who got away. Girl didn't pass up the chance to go to Earth in order to save Suletta because she needed a shield. 

Despite Suletta having an interest in El4n, spurred on by him showing an interest in her and El4n eventually reciprocating, a relationship between them would never work as their goals are diametrically opposed. If El4n wants to keep his life and be allowed to live his life as he pleases, he needs to win a duel against Suletta and take Aerial away from her. Something she can’t let happen because, for one, she wouldn’t even give up Aerial for the person she’s excited to marry, and two, losing would be letting down Miorine, someone she cares deeply about, and Suletta’s not about that.

When Suletta wins the fight, she also wins back El4n’s heart, but their relationship is doomed before it starts because El4n fails to secure Aerial for the Peil company and has to die for his failure. El4n accepts this and doesn’t fight to stay in Suletta’s life, instead thanking her and letting death take him.

In the last episode, El4n apologizes to Suletta for standing her up to which Suletta basically tells him not to sweat it as she’s come to learn that the person for her wasn’t him.           

Shaddiq, foil to Suletta – Here’s someone who starts out coming off as approachable but who’s revealed to be more and more deranged as the series goes on. Shaddiq is willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants all the while keeping his friendly appearance and calming smile.

Throughout episode nine, it becomes clear that while Shaddiq and Suletta are both upbeat go-getters, their views on Miorine couldn’t be more different. Shaddiq does, to some degree, care about Miorine, but what he thinks is best for Miorine is at odds with what Miorine wants. He justifies his attempts to control her with her being stubborn and unreasonable. She doesn’t know what would be the best for her, and Shaddiq’s been nothing but kind to her, so he doesn’t get why she keeps turning him down. This guy sure is tipping his metaphorical fedora.

The epitome of Suletta and Shaddiq’s conflicting views is shown when Shaddiq runs into Suletta after being at the greenhouse. He fails to reason with Miorine, so he tries to get Suletta to talk some reason into telling her that as Miorine’s groom, it’s her responsibility to talk some sense into her. Suletta doesn’t agree with the sentiment and instead thinks that her role as Miorine’s groom is to stand by her and support her. A very how the spouge of a woman should aim to protect and provide for their wife vs. they should treat their wife as an equal and encourage them to do what they want schools of thoughts. As Miorine seems perfectly content to be the primary breadwinner in the relationship, that first idea has less than no appeal to her.

Suletta ultimately turns out to be right, with the show taking a shot at the whole strong man who’s the sole protector of what’s deemed to be his mentality. After his defeat, he tells Miorine that he should have offered to fight for her, which most likely would have gotten him nowhere. Before Miorine met Suletta, she wouldn’t let anyone fight for her, and a good part of why Miorine rolled with Suletta becoming Holder was because she had no intention to. There’s no way of having the intention to become Holder and do what Suletta did. The intention is there, and that’s the problem. It cannot be overstated how little Suletta would care about being the Holder if Miorine hadn’t wanted her to be.

When Shaddiq learns that Miorine will be at Plant Quetta, he callously shrugs off the idea that he should try to stop her from getting hurt and leave it up to fate if she makes it out alive. This becomes somewhat vindictive when he probably justifies this kind of thinking by making it Miorine’s own fault for rejecting his protection. She doesn’t want him to keep her safe so he will do no such thing.                            

El5n, foil to Miorine – There’s not much to say here. El5n  showcases Suletta’s aversion to someone coming on too strong and her commitment to be with Miorine, as by the time El5n first makes a move on Suletta, she’s already hopelessly in love with Miorine. He and Miorine are also opposite extremes when it comes to their interactions with Suletta. El5n insists that Suletta should get with him while Miorine rejects that she has any veto over who Suletta can be with.

Sophie, foil to Miorine – Mostly qualifies for acting antithetically to Miorine and self-identifying as someone who sees Miorine as an obstacle to getting to Suletta. Although Sophie technically doesn’t express interest in being with Suletta romantically, since she goes full Yandere mode at the mention of Suletta being with someone else, she might as well be. One of a romantic foil’s main functions is to demonstrate why a relationship with them wouldn’t be in the best interest of the person they’re interested in having a relationship with. Declaring that she’ll have to kill Miorine to get the relationship she wants with Suletta makes Sophie succeed with flying colors in that regard.

Being a Yandere, Sophie doesn’t understand what would be offputting about telling Suletta she’s going to kill her loved ones. In her mind, she’s setting Suletta free to become a ruthless killer, which really shows how much she’s misjudged what Suletta is like as a person. As the cherry on top, it turns out Sophie’s obsessed with Ericht and not Suletta.  

This is another case of a character being the opposite extreme of Miorine. Concurrently with the event involving Norea and Sophie, Miorine is at the point where she’s blaming Prospera for Suletta’s actions, as she can’t see her little ball of innocence killing people unless she has been manipulated. 

            

From a meta-perspective, El4n, Guel, and Shaddiq are also the antithesis of what a romance protagonist should be due to their inability to fight for love. They’re defeatist and, at points, almost deterministic. After one major setback, they turn back to the person of their affection in the sense that they leave the person’s well-being up to fate. Something Suletta and Miorine never do to each other. Even when their insecurities get the better of them, they still have the other’s happiness and well-being in mind.

Furthermore, having the romantic foils display philosophies associated with determinism is a sort of social commentary in a sense. A part of Japanese culture is the acceptance of bad things happening and a willingness to make the best of an unfavorable situation, sometimes expressed through the word shouganai and similar words. This is a perfectly wealthy mentality until it gets used in situations people can and, more importantly, should be doing something about or, at the very least, be less accepting of. Case in point: whatever is up with Japan being behind on queer rights despite its several partnerships with multiple Western countries. So, having characters that act like their hands are tied and just shrug it off makes them foils to Suletta and Miorine, where needing to do something about a bad situation is a major part of their characters. The fact that the characters in question are products of the elite and two queer people who keep getting screwed over by the system is quite reflective of the contrast between activists in Japan and the country they live in.         

As the show is now, pairing these guys with the heroines reeks of heteronormativity. It doesn’t matter whether or not that’s the intention; it still does. Two female characters can go through thick and thin together, always having each other’s back whenever possible, and some people see their relationship as equal or even inferior to their barely existing or one-sided relationship with a man. The level of hypocrisy is astounding. It feeds into the idea that guys are entitled to have their feelings returned just by existing. That’s a big part of the reason there are guys who feel threatened by sapphic couples. It messes with their indoctrination that a woman would rather be with another woman than them.

It’s almost amusing how any of these characters come across as having a chance with either Miorine or Suletta when they’re never presented as such in the narrative. Unless the series was going to do a storytelling faux pas, Suletta and Miorine getting together is an inevitability by episode three. Having all this build-up just for them to end with someone else would be narrative nonsense. Good thing that didn’t happen.

#mobile suit gundam: the witch from mercury #g witch #the witch from mercury #suletta mercury #miorine rembran #guel jeturk #el4n #shaddiq zenelli #el5n #sophie pulone #sulemio #suletta x miorine #welp! here we go again