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mysicklove · 7 months

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𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐌𝐄

DAY 2: SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK

With: Satoru Gojo

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Sub! Gojo, Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo

A/N: this was actually really fun to write! i did a little research on what subspace feels like, and it says it varies from person to person, but it is a sort of euphoric experience. sooo idk! lol. also, a lot of ppl r here for gojos personality, and I feel bad bc he is not like his usual self in this bc of his headspace...dont hate me gojo simps

Gojo Satoru is kinky. Plain and simple. He has tried many different things throughout his lifetime, and he is now confident enough in many different types of sexual play. He spends way too much time on the internet buying all sorts of toys, cuffs, ropes, whips, just to build his secret obsession. He has been with many people, and has always pulled them down to the dark side with him.

But through it all, he has never found a partner to really push him to his limits. They all get too scared to hurt him, and call their safeword too early. They get uncomfortable when he sobs for mercy, or in other situations, begs for more pain. Gojo doesn't want to be just treated harshly, he wants to be broken. His standards are higher than most.

And finally his dreams came true when he met you. You've been into BDSM for years now, and even if the two of you are dating, you have a strict contract of rules you must obey for eachothers safety. It was cute, he was practically trembling in excitement when he saw the agreement, signing his hame sloppily, and waiting for your next move.

It was strange seeing someone so cheery and upbeat turn into a different breed during a scene. He was long passed the brat now, every defining thought fucked out of him. He's been slapped around, beaten, scolded, forced to orgasm, and humiliated in the past two hours. He has never had anyone treat him this rough.

A huge part of him loved it, and a small part of him twinged in fear whenever he heard you begin to move again. It sent a multitude of thoughts to his brain, What now? Are you going to hurt him? Was he being good now? Another punishment?

His blue eyes follow your every movement, and he flinches when you bring your hand up to his face, expecting another slap. You chuckle at the movement, gently petting his face. It takes him a second to realize what is happening, but from there, he melts into your hold. He presses himself deeper into your hand, eyes heavy from exhaustion.

Satoru accomplished his goal though. He was, for the first time ever, wrecked. His hair is matted against his head, damp from sweat. His body is covered in hickeys, bitemarks, bruises, scratches, and marks from the flogger. He was trembling, muscles contracting every couple of seconds without permission. Drools coats his lips, and it starts to drip down his mouth and onto his chin. His eyes seem to be in a different world, cloudy, and half lidded. His cock lays spent against his thigh, flushed red, and leaking just the last of his cum.

But even through it all, he's smiling at you. It’s a fucked out sort of grin, lazy, but content. His cheek is pressed against your palm, and he's nuzzling into it, basking in the softness of your touch, contrasting your earlier actions. “There ya go. You doing all right, Satoru?”

He blinks at you, slow, and thoughtless. “Yeah.”

You climb onto the bed next to him, brushing his hair back affectionately, and a little worriedly. He looked rather beat, and his exhausted eyes made you want to end the session now. “Alright, lets clean you up, and get you to bed,” You soothe, hands rubbing at his thighs, hoping your touch brings him comfort.

Immediately he pulls away, a small pout on his face. “Noooooo,” He uncharacteristically whines, grabbing at your hand. “Wanna…Wanna go some more. I'm doing good, right Mommy? No more punishments,” He pleads, tears coating his eyes. “Reward. Wanna reward, pleaseeee.”

Mommy wasn't todays title. You were called mistress, and master today solely. His words made your eyes widen, and you instantaneously knew he was deep into the subspace. You've seen glimpses of it, the way he becomes uncharacteristically obedient and he gets slightly giggly, probably from the light headed feeling, but he looked deep into his now. His words dragged out, and his body was obviously spent, but still he craved your approval; he wanted nothing more than to please you now.

Affection, love and care is what he needs right now and you were happy to provide him with it. So, you straddle his lap, and place kisses on every surface you can touch. His body is warm, and he goes slack against your hold, mouth falling open. “Do you want to cum again, ‘toru? Or just attention?”

He goes silent for awhile, his mind hazy, and not liking the idea of making his own choice. He wanted you to take care of him completely, to let his mind slip away, and for you to control his ever thought, movement. “Please,” He mumbles, face scrunching up with frustration.

You are quick to apologize, recognizing his situation almost instantly. “Alright, alright. I'll take care of you. Lets cum one more time, can you do that for me, pretty boy?”

Pretty boy. A nickname unlike the harsh ones he received earlier: brat, slut, dog, whore. In the moment it only increased to turn him on, but now, he wanted to be good. The thought of you calling him those names made him want to tear up, and sob into your arms. He didn't want you to be mean anymore, he wants you to love him. To praise him on anything and everything.

He jumps when he feels your hand drift back to his cock. It aches from all the abuse from earlier, and he lets out a shaky whimper, not liking the pain as much as he once did. “H-Hurts,” He yelps, wishing for you to make it better. To fix it all, why did everything ache so badly? He wants comfort, and as quickly as possible.

You kiss at his tears and pull his face into your neck. “‘m sorry. Was Mommy too rough with you today? Shhh, it’ll feel better in a bit, just relax,” You encourage, beginning to slide your hand up and down his length. He twitches and mewls from beneath you, fighting the feeling of overstimulation and pleasure. He wants this, he wants this, he wants this so badly, but he wishes it wasn't so uncomfortable.

He shakes his head into your neck, “Wasn't too rough. I'm fine, Mama j-just make me feel better, please,” he whispers, voice hoarse, and soft. One of your hands pet his hair, while the other strokes him off, shushing his cries, and reassuring that he will feel better soon.

You were right of course, the pain of overstimulation died off, and Gojo felt like he was melting. Everything is so warm, so light, he feels like he was on cloud nine. He feels loved, and every loose thought was traced back to you. “Love you s-so much.”

You grin at him, pressing your lips to his. His lips are chapped from his excessive panting, but you don't mind, licking at the plush flesh. He whimpers and groans, his hands pawing at you to pull you impossibly closer. When you pull back, he follows you, letting out a small huff in complaint. You pepper his face with kisses in apology. “Love you too. Such a good boy, Satoru, I'm so lucky to have such a pretty boy.”

He withers under the praise, nodding his head dumbly. He wants to coax so more out of you, but he can't think of ways, so he just rest his head on your chest, and chants, “Mommy” on repeat.

Your hand is slow in pace, careful to not overwhelm him. It slides up and down easily, his previous cum acting as lube. His cock is bright red, and you almost feel bad for it after pulling so many orgasms from it earlier. You are suprised he is still even awake, sure, he looks and acts exhausted, but by this long he is usually passed out. He must be awake only because he is searching for praise and comfort from earlier. To not find himself in a sub drop.

You catch his eye, and a wobbly smile pulls at his face. You chuckle at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Whaddya want from me?” He asks, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

“Hmm?”

He taps his forehead against yours, hazy blue eyes staring into yours. “Wanna command. Wanna be useful for you.”

You smile warmly at him and he shivers, leaning up to kiss you again. You hand rubs over his small slit, and he gasps, pausing just centimeteres before you face, and moaning out.

“You are deep in this, aren't you sweet boy?” You murmur, mostly to your self, slightly astonished. It was one thing for him to ask for praise, and to make decisions for him, but actively seeking instructions from you was another. It was fascinating, and adorable to say the least, how desperately he craved approval, or wanted to feel needed, useful. Nothing how Gojo usually was like.

You thumb at his tip, and he heaves, trying to keep up with your words. But everything you say other than “sweet boy,” seems to tuned out. Everything feels blurry, expect for you face, and your sickenly sweet tone. “D-Don't understand. Please!”

“Okay, shhh, it's alright. I want you to cum for me. Can you cum for Mommy, Satoru? That's all I want you to do.” An easy command, one he can definitely fulfill. He can do that – he can definitely cum for you. Gojo feels his chest bloom with butterflies at the idea of what you'll say to him once he follows your wishes. How much praise he will receive. How good and useful he is being. It makes him shiver with excitement.

Your hand picks up speed when he nods, and he gasps, gripping onto your arms from the suddenness. His hips buck upward into the makeshift hole, and you coo at him, telling him to relax his hips. He abides without question, melting into the sheets, and you give him a kiss for a reward.

He feels himself begin to teeter along his high, and he glances up at you, eyes wide and slightly panicked. He needs to ask for approval, he has to ask to cum, the rules were basically engrained in him, but everything is spinning, and he's beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the pressure. He feels his voice go dry, and tears begin to pool in his eyes at the prospect of disappointing you.

You take notice of his fearful face immediately, quickly leaning over to cup his face. “You can cum. Relax, hey, its alright, I want you to cum.”

He breathes a shaky sign of relief, and you wipe his tears away, thinking back to earlier of how you wiped his tears away from the ruthless pleasure/pain mix, and now simply because he was afraid that he wasn't able to ask permission before cumming. You would be lying if the power didnt get to your head.

You thoughts are cut off when Gojos entire body jerks, and a muffled, “Fuck!” is let out. His orgasm hits him like a truck, and he trembles, riding the waves. His voice is too scratchy to let out any real noise, so he just silently cries into your chest. Cum dribbles down his cock pathetically, obviously spent, and not having much left to give. You don't seem to notice it though, instead focusing on your lover, and trying to make his orgasm as pleasurable as possible.

When he comes down from it, his legs are shaking, and his eyes are hooded with exhaustion. “P-Plea–Coconut,” He weakly gets out, and you hands fly off his body in seconds from hearing the safety word. You pull away, hoping to not overwhelm him, but instead he clings to you. “Don’t go. Don’t go. Mommy, I can't. J-Just–I…Praise!” He splutters, coherent thoughts flying out of his head, as he slumps into the bed.

You nod, staying away from his cock, and instead placing his head into your lap. His body curls around you in seconds, still slightly trembling. “Did so well. Good boy Satoru. My good boy, I am so spoiled. So lucky to have you." You coo, reaching your hand up to run it through his matted hair. "Took everything so well. I'm so proud of you." A small smile pulls at his face, and everything feels so warm "I love you so much, you know that?”

“Hm,” He hums, nodding his head slightly.

You smile at him. “My perfect boy. It's time to go to sleep, I'll take care of everything. Just rest for me, that's all I need you to do.”

But he didn't even hear the last of your statements, already passed out onto you, his chest rising and falling from his heavy breathes.

You sigh, and stare affectionately at the man. His naked body littered in marks, and he still managed to sleep contently with them. His body was drained of everything. Just like he asked you to do so hours prior.

Your hands roam the nightstand, grabbing healing cream, bandages, and a wash cloth. And with one last sigh, you place Gojo's head onto the pillow, and begin the long process of cleaning him up.

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fyodorloveclub · 6 months

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DONT YOU UNDERSTAND?

★ pairing: husband!fyodor x reader

★ cw: DARK CONTENT AHEAD!! 18+, MINORS DNI. noncon, drugging, forced breeding, lots of breeding/pregnancy talk, vaginal sex, not enough foreplay, fyodor is evil!!

★ notes: breedtober fic #?? sorry the fics have been coming out so late, thank u for ur patience ily all <3

want more of breedtober?

DISCLAIMER: i do not condone noncon in any way, shape, or form. this is just fiction with no reflection of real life. please refrain from leaving hate comments, and just unfollow/block. or simply scroll away. thank u!

Dizzy – you’re so fucking dizzy. The room is spinning, your vision is dark and fuzzy around the edges, and you have no clue if you’re sitting or standing up currently. Because, worst of all, every part of your body is numb. You can’t move.

All you can see is the normally gentle, sweet face of your lover that’s now marred with an expression one can only describe as evil.

You want to reach out, ask him what’s wrong, what’s happening, but you can’t. All movement and speech have been rendered impossible, due to the teacup that lay shattered on the ground, bathed in the liquid that made you like this.

It was completely normal, a routine at this point, to sit in the living room with Fyodor in front of the lit fireplace sipping tea out of teacups from his beloved collection of fine china. The tea varied – chamomile, earl gray, mint, oolong, just plain green. And the activities often varied as well. Sometimes teasing and laughing over a card game, sometimes long, difficult discussions about the future with stoic faces, and sometimes just comfortable silence. The night before you had been discussing marriage and children. But it was always just you and Fyodor with cups of tea.

This had been a night like every other, though conversation remained at a minimum. Jasmine tea as the fire roared a little hotter than usual. What differed was how the tea started to make you feel. It was slow enough that you wouldn’t push away the cup or become unable to drink the whole serving, but fast enough that once it came on, you couldn’t stop it – it was too late.

And now you lay limp in Fyodor’s arms as he laid you down on the chaise lounge you had been resting on with your cup of tea – the one had fallen to the ground once your strength had started to fade.

“W-wha-” you manage to get out, your vocal cords and lips fighting against whatever was paralyzing them.

“Shhh,” Fyodor soothes, petting your hair as he hovers over you. “This is for the good of our family, my love.”

Your slack face slightly contorts into a look of confusion as your fuzzy mind tries to make sense of his words, barely noticing the way he tugged down your pants until his fingertips circled around your clit lightly. Somehow you could feel that. You attempted to jerk away from the touch, but your body once again failed you.

“Oh, my love, don’t you remember?” he tuts before spitting on his fingers and prodding at your hole. He had little interest in foreplay right now. “Don’t you understand? How you saying you ‘didn’t want kids anymore’ was completely unacceptable.”

It suddenly starts to click, even in your fucked mind. The way Fyodor’s jaw tightened, and smile faded during your discussion last night when you admitted that you didn’t see kids in your future. You had paid little mind to his disappointed “oh”. But clearly, he hadn’t let go.

One finger pushes past your still tight ring of muscle, making you grunt. “In case you don’t, in case the drug has addled your conscience too much, I shall explain.” Another finger sinks in. “We will be having children. At least three, to be exact. You will be getting pregnant, and hopefully tonight.” His fingers pump in and out of you, faster and faster, scissoring apart to stretch you open. “Even if that means rendering you useless and unable to resist me."

Tugging his own pants down, he spits in the palm of his hand before gripping his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times. “I considered just pulling you ass up for easiest access, but I want you to see me – to watch what happens when you disobey my wishes so severely.”

Since you’re completely dead weight, Fyodor has to manually spread your legs wide in order to slot himself between them, his grip tight underneath your knees. Then his lips are on your as he leans over you, the kiss forceful since you’re unable to reciprocate – not that you would’ve anyway.

The leaky tip of his cock as he revels in your inability to fight back is proof that he’s enjoying this immensely, the sick bastard. You want to scream out, thrash against him as his length slides into your cunt in protest of how unfair this is, how he can’t just decide to get you pregnant, but you can’t. You’re completely stuck just… taking it. Until his balls are pressed all the way against your ass, the puff of hair at the base of his cock tickling against your clit.

And somehow, you can feel it on the inside. You can feel the sting and burn as he pushes in and stretches you out, but can also feel… the pleasure. Maybe it’s the way your slack jaw falls open further at his first thrust, your body twitching, but Fyodor can tell. The way your body is forcing you to feel good against your wishes.

You grunt pathetically with every single thrust, legs hanging loosely around his waist and tongue lolling out of your mouth with drool pooling out of the corner. Fyodor is going mad with how much he loves this, how quickly he’s getting off from just using you without your permission. His violet eyes shine fiercely and the sick smirk on his face only grows as he fucks you harder and harder.

"Going to look so pretty pregnant, my beautiful doll,” he coos, massaging the soft fat of your tits. “So round and so full of my babies, so swollen you can barely walk, can’t even see your feet. You’ll need your darling husband’s help to even walk down the stairs,” he babbles, clearly just talking to himself.

“Do you like it, pretty? The way I’m just using you? It turns you on, doesn’t it? You and your body are mine, you know. I own you. And I own the right to use you however I please, to make you whatever I please.”

Of course, Fyodor had always been a bit possessive, always liked to call you his, but never to this caliber. Never to the point where you thought he’d do something like this.

His thrusts get faster and faster with every sick and twisted sentence, and though your hearing was fuzzy too, the wet sounds of skin on skin echoed through the room. Too wet to only just be his precum… were you wet? From what he was doing to you?

The orange light from the roaring fireplace illuminated Fyodor’s face in the most terrifying way, highlighting his sharp features, and igniting his eyes and sweat that had begun dripping down the sides of his face.

He leans in close, whispering into your ear. “Are you ready for my seed, doll? Ready for me to cum so deep inside you your womb is forced to take all of it?”

You’re able to shake your head a bit, and Fyodor clicks his tongue.

“You’re ready because I say so.”

You can’t feel it, but by the way his eyes roll back and his hips stutter, cock throbbing inside you, you can tell he’s cumming. Filling you up with the seed he promised to get you pregnant with.

After pulling out, he kisses you deeply.

“Before we go again, I will fetch you some more tea, my love. It seems you’ve regained some ability to move, and I can’t have that.”

#fyodor smut #fyodor x reader #bsd smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd x y/n

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neptxn3 · 22 days

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Astrology Observations II

｡:ﾟ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა ﾟ:｡

Disclaimer, these are observations I have made through personal experience and thorough research, observations also vary depending on other natal placements involved

doesn’t resonate ≠ untrue

♅ Virgos tend to represent the trad wife far more than people assume taurus does, and that’s because Virgos ability to uphold their life (at least on the outside) tend to attract men who want a wife that can keep them on track

Some Virgo women tend to also attract gay men unfortunately 😭, again I think Virgos just seem like the perfect trad Wife and it will attract closeted men like flies. This isn’t to say all your partners will be closeted but the ones who are overly aggressive on your role in the relationship might be.

♅ Gemini moon children develop QUICKLY. These are usually the kids who weird you out with their extensive knowledge and self awareness that seemingly comes out of nowhere. The mercury influence allows them to digest many topics which in turn has Gemini moon children mentally developing at a faster pace than their peers

I’ve also observed Gemini moons are those annoying kids in your class that are a lot smarter and a bit condescending to others intelligence, not because that’s just the way they are, but their mercurial moon needs constant stimulation, and with a combination of their rapid growth you’ll see them climbing academic ranks which in turn can make them dislike school if they are not progressing at a speed they like.

♅ Scorpio moons have a tendency to see the worst in every situation/person which can be a nasty habit, but this isn’t out of judgment, rather they don’t like to give people the benefit of the doubt. They don’t like to be screwed over and their best bet is to think of the worst scenario possible.

♅ Aquarius Venus who are flaky in relationships and constantly cheat will eventually have karma handed back to them, usually in the form of being in their mid 40’s still single.

Aquarius Venus flaky reputation does stem from the fact that it is a Saturn influenced placement, as well as being fixed. It’s not that they hate any type of restriction to their freedom but rather to what extent you restrict them to. They can and will jump quickly into relationships but if they see any glimpse of possessive or controlling attributes they will leave. Again because it’s fixed and Saturn influenced Aquarius Venus knows once it settles down that’s it, they’re not going anywhere, that’s why they’re so scattered to find the right person who fits their criteria.

♅ Moon/Sun harshly aspecting Neptune is the embodiment of “I hate my Mom/Dad, but I love her/him too”. Neptune harshly aspecting these planets can cause a huge wall of misunderstanding between parent and child, but Neptune blurs the lines so deep that the individual sees them “through rose colored glasses” and if incapable of harboring hate. I would even say there could be nights where these people will look back and remember their past relationships (Neptune = Dreams)

♅ 10h placements can sometimes struggle maintaining relationships due to the very contradicting nature of the Midheaven and ascendant. Usually people will perceive them to be very different from who they actually are.

This is also why they struggle with their self esteem (the natural square to the ascendant). Sometimes they feel like they need to keep up an image to satisfy others and that isn’t someone who they truly are 🥲

In synastry this also points to partners trying to change who they are/make choices for them because they think it’s “for the best” or “what’s good for them”.

♅ Every Virgo rising I’ve met always gives me a small lesson on why astrology isn’t real but follow up with a “but can you read my chart I want to see if it’s true 👀”. I truly believe it’s the 12h Leo which makes them secretly a little self centered (hence the interest for things like astrology to attempt and figure themselves out) but the mercurial ascendant will always make them skeptical 😭

♅ Saturn conjunct Jupiter natives is a dangerous fire sometimes. I’ve noticed if they haven’t learned to balance this aspect in their chart, the people around them can suffer their warm and cold attitude. It’s almost as if one second you could be hysterically laughing in class together, and the next second they immediately stop and ask you to be serious and finish your work. WHERE DID THE VIBE GOOO?? The key here is moderation in whichever sign/house this is in

♅ Whoever said Neptune in hard aspect to Venus needs to practice saying positive affirmations (especially to Venus related topics) to themselves in the mirror was SO correct. Neptune indeed does reflect lies to you and reaffirming yourself in the mirror breaks that spell. I don’t think I’ve felt so beautiful since I started doing this.

#astrology #astrology observations #synastry #scorpio moon #neptune aspects #jupiter aspects #saturn aspects #aquarius venus #gemini moon #virgo rising #virgo #astro notes #astroblr

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rebelfell · 5 months

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Surrender

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader x lesbian!Chrissy Cunningham

When your boyfriend Eddie wants to introduce you to his old friend, you can't help being worried he’s secretly interested in her. As it turns out, he’s not the one you had to worry about.

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

cw: established relationship, platonic!hc (eddie and chrissy are college besties), jealous/insecure reader, alcohol - nothing too explicit yet because this is mostly establishing and setting up. Time period is modern-ish.

Everyone is aged early 30s. 5k 18+, MDNI

“Are we sure tonight is the best night?”

You hate the whininess of your own voice as you call out to Eddie from the bathroom. Hearing your petulant question, he promptly appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his head tilted at you and a sweet smile on his lips.

“What’s up, princess? You don’t wanna go?”

He’s already dressed for your night out and, of course, looks perfect. Dark jeans and a black dress shirt, untucked and unbuttoned at the collar to reveal the guitar pick hanging around his neck. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his forearms and tattoos, chunky silver rings catching the light as he drums his fingers on the door jamb. His hair is down and loose around his shoulders, looking hydrated and bouncy from the cream you bought for him after he went through a whole tube of your own. It never made your hair look as good as it did his, anyway.

You, on the other hand, are a mess. Hair falling flat despite being freshly styled. Wearing a flippy-skirted sundress you normally liked for the way it cinched your waist and accentuated your shape, but tonight feels more like a vice you’ll be prone to spill out of. Sweating through your light make-up and struggling to get your winged eyeliner to match—a losing game if there ever was one.

The past ten minutes you’ve done nothing but huff and grunt and sigh at your fruitless efforts, hands only getting more unsteady the more flustered you became.

For weeks, you’ve had these plans to meet up with Eddie’s old friend who was back in Hawkins for a visit. But now, less than half an hour from when you were due to meet them at The Hideout, all your resolve is crumbling. And it’s not so much the thought of going out that has you fledgling, but rather who you’re going to meet.

You’ve heard a lot of stories over the years about Chrissy Cunningham.

You knew she and Eddie had attended the same high-school, along with most of his other closest friends. But unlike the rest, Chrissy and Eddie’s knowledge of each other was mostly peripheral until they wound up at the same small liberal arts college after graduation.

There were tales of them pulling all-nighters in the library, dominating beer pong and flip-cup tournaments at frat houses, leading epic tee-peeing sprees across campus on Halloween. Somewhere in there was an ex-boyfriend of hers Eddie would refer to as the human incarnate of spoiled milk—evidently this was the same guy who had labeled Eddie as the local demon summoner of their hometown.

“I stole his yearbook and drew a pentagram on the last page. Pretty sure he burned it,” Eddie told you once, lips spread in a devious smile.

In none of these stories had there been mention of anything romantic; nothing even hinted at other than a platonic with a capital “P” friendship. But still, you couldn’t help but wonder. Surely being that close there had to be something more. They were both attractive, clearly got along well. They’d kept in touch all this time, and if she didn’t live so far away you’re sure you would have met her long before now. She sent him postcards from all the varied places she traveled for work, and always signed them with three little x’s.

Sensing your frustration in the way only he can, Eddie quickly closes the distance separating you. He comes to stand behind you with his chest pressed against your back and winds his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder to meet your gaze in the mirror.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes you gently. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know,” you mutter. “I’m tired and stressed out. Not in good first impression mode.”

You use these meaningless descriptors because you can’t quite articulate the way Chrissy makes you feel without sounding like a big baby. Eddie’s Hawkins High yearbook is basically a shrine to her, plastered with seemingly endless pictures of her cheering and being crowned as queen of something no less than three times. And even in those grainy black and white photos, she’s completely radiant. Meanwhile, all you could find of Eddie was his standard portrait and one shot of him in the club photos with his D&D group, making his favorite devil face.

“Hey,” he coos, low and soft in your ear. “You’re gonna be great. She’s gonna love you as much as I do. Well, almost.”

You huff, unable to fully enjoy the warmth of his breath on your skin, because you’re not exactly worried whether or not Chrissy will like you.

You’re trying not to be needy; trying not to feel so insecure at the prospect of meeting Eddie’s old friend; trying not to compare yourself to someone you’ve never even laid eyes on in person. But it’s so unbelievably difficult. Because as far as you can tell…she’s basically his dream girl.

You’d already quizzed him about it relentlessly, but the urge to rehash it one last time is too strong. Some part of you knows it’s pointless—that there’s nothing he can say to assuage this relentless doubt gnawing at your insides. If there was, he would have said it. And yet…

“So you guys were just friends? You never dated?”

“Nope. Never.”

You frown, despite his answer, chewing on the inside of your lip and staring at the sink to avoid his gaze. He places his fingers beneath your chin and tilts your face back up.

“What?” he asks with a smirk. “You don’t believe me?”

“Of course I do,” you groan. “It just doesn’t make sense—you say she was like your best friend, and you guys were doing everything together, and yet somehow you never ever considered, even once, asking out the prettiest, most popular girl from your high-school?”

The slight whine in your voice finally cracks into something resembling a cry. You feel it in your throat the moment it starts to break through and instantly feel the sting of tears welling behind your eyes. Perfect, you think. That’s just what your eyeliner needs.

You hated feeling like you were about to step into one of those horrible rom-com scenarios where two best friends, after years of denying their feelings for one another (or being completely oblivious to them), realize they’ve been madly in love all along. More than likely at the most inopportune moment possible—like right before one of them is about to get married.

Because it had to really suck being the partner of one of those dumbasses.

And, yeah, maybe you and Eddie weren’t getting married. Although, he had been bringing it up more often and you were almost certain one of your rings had gone missing for a good day and a half before reappearing in your jewelry tray on the dresser. Still, this was probably as bad a time as any for him to discover he was secretly in love with his best friend.

“Did you ever think about dating her?” you ask. “Like were you ever out at a bar or stayed up late after a party talking and just thought to yourself maybe, someday…”

Maybe, someday was the clarion cry of these horrid arrangements. If you had a someday person, you were basically earmarking them in your mind for later and it was only a matter of time before the two of you got together. Someday was this magical time that could be years and years from now or it could be fucking tomorrow. And if it was tomorrow, that made you the one the someday person trounces over on their way to true love. It was going to be your heart that wound up shattered and no one watching in the movie theater would even care.

Eddie starts to sway gently, rocking you with him as he mulls over his answer.

“Honestly? I had, like, a glimmer of a crush on her in high-school, but I barely knew her then. And the more we hung out…it just wasn’t something to pursue.”

“Why not? What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he says. “We were better as friends.”

Your face sinks into a pout and you make no attempt whatsoever to disguise it. You can’t put your finger on exactly why, but you feel like there has to be more to this story. She’s pretty and thin, funny and exciting, glamorous and worldly, and Eddie just magically never had feelings for her? Never considered her romantically in the slightest? It doesn’t add up.

“It’s not like that, I swear,” Eddie says when he sees you sulking, arms wrapping tighter around you, trying to reassure you with his touch.

Normally, it helps. But not tonight.

“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me,” you admit with another sigh.

His eyes are waiting for yours in the mirror. A pair of deep brown pools as warm and comforting as a freshly poured cup of coffee stare back at you, but fail to have their typically calming effect.

Against your back, you feel Eddie’s chest rise and fall as he takes a steadying breath.

“Well, there kind of is,” he says. “But I swear it’s got nothing to do with that. It’s just not mine to tell. I don’t know if Chrissy wants you to know or if she wants to tell you herself.”

It’s not the worst thing he could have said, but it’s also not, not the worst thing. You groan and bury your face in your hands.

“Maybe I shouldn't go,” you grumble into your palms.

Staying home suddenly feels like the only solution. Leaving them alone might only hasten the inevitable. But if they were gonna fall in love, you shouldn’t have to sit around to watch.

“No,” Eddie whines, tugging insistently on your wrists to pull your hands from your face. “Don’t say that. Please come? I’m really excited for you two to meet.”

“I’m only gonna be in the way,” you sniffle, unable to look at him. “You guys will be reminiscing all night and I’ll just sit there like a mute idiot.”

Third wheel to your own boyfriend.

His jaw ticks and he clenches it in that way he always does when you talk down about yourself. He doesn’t have time right now to go into just how wrong you are. And he can tell you won’t be receptive to it in your current state. He’ll take care of it later, when he has you pinned beneath him, driving his body into yours, making you gasp and pant and plead until you’ll say whatever he asks—including admitting how fucking perfect you are.

“I want you to meet her because I think you’ll get along.” His breath ghosts across the nape of your neck as he presses his lips to your skin. “Because she’s great…and you’re really great…and I think you’d be great together.”

At last, you swallow the tears rising in your throat and nod. You lift your head and find his pretty doe eyes in the mirror again. Eyes that love you. Eyes that would never compare you to someone else.

Eyes that are only for you.

You and Eddie walk into The Hideout, your hand held firmly in his. The bouncer and bartender nod at you both in acknowledgment, too inundated with customers for a longer interaction. They knew Eddie well from the many years his band had spent here playing to nearly empty rooms, as well as when he started working as a barback on the weekends to earn some extra cash. And they know you from the number of “dates” you’d spent visiting him during a shift.

Chrissy spots you immediately and throws her hand up in the air, wiggling her fingers excitedly. Her strawberry blonde hair was swept up in a ponytail, soft curls bouncing with her every move. She’s in cream-colored trousers cuffed at the ankles with a wide black belt holding them up so they sit high on her tiny waist. Her top is a sleeveless black turtleneck, cropped to reveal a little sliver of her abdomen. It’s one of those cool-girl outfits that’s so effortlessly trendy and chic it instantly makes you feel overly plain and unassuming in your sundress.

Jesus. Did she have to be that pretty?

She was cute as a goddamn button with big, round eyes and full, cherubic cheeks that only grew as she flashed a smile with enough wattage to power the whole bar. Maybe the entire town. Like in her picture in Eddie’s yearbook, one of her front teeth was a little crooked. Yet somehow it only made her smile, and her by extension, all the more charming.

Every pair of eyes in the room is watching as she scoots out of her seat in the corner booth. With a wide grin, she stretches up on her tiptoes to throw her arms around Eddie’s neck as you and he approach the table she’s secured. He slides his free arm around her waist, wrapping her up in a tight squeeze, but keeps your hand in his the entire time. You can’t say it’s not a relief, having already loosened your grip in anticipation of him dropping it as he went to hug Chrissy.

Only when he steps back from between you does he let it go, placing his palm on your shoulder as he gives Chrissy your name. She beams at you, eyes sparkling even in the dim light of the dive bar. You feel your cheeks pinch and your teeth clench as you force a smile.

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She reaches out to take your hands in hers and gives them a gentle squeeze. Of course her skin is as soft as velvet. “Gosh, you’re even prettier in person.”

A waft of her perfume hits you, fresh citrus swirling in your nose, and you falter slightly at her words. In person? In person as opposed to what? Your social media was private, as was hers, and neither of you had yet to extend a friend request or so much as a DM. You only knew her face from Eddie’s yearbook. How did she know yours?

“You need a drink, yeah?” she asks. “I’ll get the first round, my tab is already open.”

Eddie’s hand rubs across the small of your back in a soothing circle. “I’ll get you something,” he says to you softly. “You guys sit.”

Chrissy grins and ushers you into the booth as Eddie heads for the bar. You slide into the center and nod at the pink cocktail garnished with an orange curl that sits in front of her.

“What are you having?”

“A cosmopolitan,” she says. “Not normally my first choice, but Benny makes them so well I always order one when I’m here. He loves to bitch about it, but I know they’re only as good as they are because he drinks them himself.”

She smirks at the bar where the massive, burly bartender is talking animatedly with Eddie as he pours drinks. You can’t help but giggle imagining him sipping Chrissy’s bright pink cocktail.

“I’ve never tried one,” you say. “Is it good?”

“Have some,” she chirps. “Just know it’ll ruin you for all other cosmos.”

Dainty fingers adorned with thin gold rings push the glass towards you and you bring it to your lips for a taste. There’s a little smear of her lip gloss on the rim and the peachy flavor of it mixes with the taste of the drink in your mouth. You let out a little hum of approval as it splashes on your tongue, a perfect balance of sweet and sour.

“Wow, that is good,” you say. “I never would have pegged that as Benny’s drink.”

Chrissy smiles knowingly. Most of the Hideout’s bartenders looked like they shower in scotch and use bourbon as body wash. She leans in close and lowers her voice to a conspiring whisper.

“He’ll never admit this…but he’s a huge Sex and the City fan. I came in once to pick up a jacket I'd left, and he had it playing on the TV.”

Your eyes go wide at the revelation and you shoot an appraising glance towards the bar. “I feel like he’s a Samantha,” you say with an impish smile.

“Oh, definitely!” Chrissy laughs and then nods in the direction of the bouncer. He’s smaller than Benny, but still woefully intimidating, especially as he’s frowning and turning away a couple of kids with fake IDs at the door. “And Luke acts like a Miranda, but he’s a total Charlotte.”

You both giggle at that and your shoulders brush as you lean together. The warmth of her skin on yours surprises you, but not nearly as much as when she reaches out her hand and lays it gently on your wrist. Her eyes land on your face and you feel your breathing stall as you stare back into them. Deep blue-green like the ocean, framed by her long lashes and accentuated by the pale wash of shadow she’s swept across her lids.

“Your eyes are so pretty,” she says softly. “I can never get wings to match that well.”

“Thanks,” you breathe out, heat rising in your cheeks. “I really like your eyeshadow.”

“Aww, you’re adorable.” Chrissy smiles and her lashes flutter, showing off more of the shimmery powder blue there. “Eddie was right, you’re such a sweetheart.”

Her words ignite a little flicker of excitement that trickles down the back of your neck. You shift slightly in your seat and look down at your lap, hoping she can’t see how it affects you. You tell yourself it’s not her, just her use of your favorite pet name Eddie uses for you. Very different.

The more you talk with Chrissy, the harder it becomes to keep up the animosity you’d been stewing in the past few weeks. She’s just so…nice. In the time it takes for Eddie to get drinks from the crowded bar, you two have already brought out your phones and started cooing over pictures of the other’s cats. She’s in the middle of a story about her fat gray tabby Templeton when Eddie returns carrying his pint of amber colored beer and a rum and ginger for you.

He places your drink down on the table first, but passes his own glass into your waiting hand. You sip his beer and he chuckles at the sour face you make before sliding into the booth next to you and tucking you securely under his arm.

“Not poisoned,” you tell him, still grimacing. “Just disgusting.”

It’s an old bit, one that goes back almost to your first date. You weren’t a big beer person, but you still liked taking little tastes of the ones ordered by friends on the off chance of finding one you did like. Eddie had then offered you a sip of his and basically beamed at the adorable way your face scrunched at the taste you considered vile. He suggested in a past life you were probably one of those servants who had to sample a king’s wine before he drank.

You had laughed and rolled your eyes, but leaned hard into the joke from then on.

“My liege, no!” you’d exclaim anywhere—at dinner, a bar, one of Steve’s keggers that was masquerading as a barbeque—hand dramatically outstretched, eyes bulging with fear as he paused raising his glass to his lips before descending into a throaty chuckle. It didn’t take long before he got in the habit of handing over his drink without even thinking about it.

Eddie slots easily into the conversation with you and Chrissy. All three of you chatter back and forth about Chrissy’s work, Eddie’s music, your impending thesis. You feel all that apprehension you’d been building up finally retreating and let yourself relax a little.

And if Chrissy is harboring some ulterior feelings for your boyfriend, she’s either terrible at showing them or incredible at hiding them. She listens raptly to boring stories about all your upgrades to Eddie’s house since moving in, and earnestly asks about your relationship.

“Okay, so you have to tell me everything. How did you guys meet?”

Chrissy sits forward in her seat and sets her elbows on the table, folding her delicate fingers together and resting her chin on them as she looks back and forth between you and Eddie with those sparkling eyes. They’re bright with interest like she literally can’t wait to hear what you’re about to say. If she’s only acting, she’s incredibly gifted. Truly Oscar-winning caliber.

“Oh, jeez,” Eddie groans and covers his face with his hand as he starts to tinge pink. He peeks out at you from between his ringed fingers and a bashful smile curls up the corners of his lips, showing his teeth. “Do we have to?” he asks. “It’s not exactly Romeo & Juliet.”

You nod back at him, flashing a mischievous smile of your own as you sip your drink. Eddie’s hand drops to the table and he sighs, playing up the dramatics you assume for Chrissy’s benefit. She’s eating it up, practically wriggling in her seat like a little puppy waiting for a treat.

“We were…at a strip club,” he says.

“Oh, of course you were!” Chrissy snickers and her eyes dart to you. “Here I was thinking you’re such a good girl and you're secretly a little vixen.”

You shiver instantly and look down at your lap again trying to hide your reaction. Her eyes flit across your body and that familiar little thrill runs up your spine, stirring something inside of you that makes you tingle all over. You let yourself imagine, if only for a moment, maybe you are the little vixen she’s imagining. Ridiculous a thought as that may be, it makes you feel extra bold.

“Hardly,” you laugh. “I was in town for my sister’s wedding. I’d been here like a week already and I was staying with her through to the ceremony to help coordinate and stuff. We went to the club for her bachelorette party, but I was essentially their chaperone. Or maybe more like a wrangler for all her friends? It was like herding cats. Except the cats were drunk. Drunk and in heels.”

The most boring possible reason to be at a strip club? Check. Chrissy doesn’t seem to judge, though. If anything, she tilts her head a bit and smiles like she’s endeared by you even though you completely failed to live up to that visage of a bad girl she thought you might be.

Still, it was fun to pretend it might be true for a second.

“And what were you doing there, Mr. Munson?” she asks, arching her brow at him. “Gathering material for your spank bank?”

“It was for Steve’s bachelor party,” Eddie says pointedly. “It was basically mandatory according to all his finance bros. I wanted to play laser tag, but I had to appease the dark side.”

“Right, because you would never deign to set foot in the Lusty Leopard otherwise,” you say with a teasing smile. Chrissy’s eyes glint as they meet yours and she jumps in seamlessly.

“Yeah, Eddie, we know how much you despise looking at butts and boobs on pretty girls,” she says, giving you a little nudge with her elbow.

“I had to look into getting mine replaced! He can hardly stand the sight of them!”

You feel a bit giddy as you and Chrissy toy with your boyfriend, exchanging your wry smiles and sharing in bubbly laughter. It’s almost like being drunk, even though you’ve only had half of your drink. It sits neglected in front of you and most of the ice has melted, watering down what was left.

Eddie lets you have your fun, but his hand finds your knee under the table and he gives it a firm squeeze. Not mad, just a signal to look at him. His eyes flash when you meet his gaze and his mouth curls into a cool, confident smile that tells you in no uncertain terms he’ll remind you of this later. Another little thrill runs through you and makes you quiver with excitement.

“Anyway,” he continues. “I thought we won the lottery or something. Not only were there gonna be strippers, but there was a whole party full of girls too? We were stoked.”

His eyes flick to yours again. This is where you come in.

“Except someone failed to check their website and see that it was Ladies Night…and an all-male revue. Which is what we were there for.”

“Oh no!” Chrissy exclaims, covering her mouth with her hand, unable to hold back her laughter.

“I have a photo of Steve getting a face full of banana hammock that is pristine.” Eddie cackles and does a little chef’s kiss as you go on.

“So our two parties kind of merge and Eddie pretty much throws himself at me—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, that is slander, sweetheart,” Eddie interjects. “I was valiantly keeping you occupied to spare you Steve’s antics.”

“Uh-oh, what was Steve doing?” Chrissy asks.

“He was wasted, trying to convince the girls at the party to strip once the guys were done.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “In the name of justice and equality.”

“Oh, Steve,” Chrissy let out a gentle sigh, shaking her head at their mutual friend’s foolishness.

“Exactly,” you say. “Anyway, we wound up playing Truth or Dare and Eddie dared me to do an Irish Car Bomb with him. And whoever finished last, their group had to perform on stage.”

“So, who won?”

Chrissy’s eyes flit between you and Eddie as the two of you share a coy glance. After letting suspense build for a few seconds, Eddie sighs and tips an imaginary hat to you as you smile proudly. Chrissy beams back at you, her hand shooting up for a high-five..

“I knew it!” she says. “Nice one!”

You grin as your palms meet, heart fluttering in your chest. You think back to that night and how your adrenaline had spiked and coursed through you, making your fingers tremble as you held the shot of Bailey’s and Jameson over the pint of Guinness while Eddie stared you down across the rims of the glasses. It was the first time his gaze had completely stilled your breathing and it was strikingly similar to the feeling you got when Chrissy’s eyes had roved over you tonight.

“So, wait, did they actually strip?” she asks. “Please tell me you have a video!”

“I wish!” you laugh and shake your head. “They wouldn’t let anyone on stage. But Eddie did a very tasteful lap dance to I Want it That Way and I was powerless. He asked for my number after and I just had to give it to him.”

“That’s adorable,” Chrissy says, looking at you both all wistful and moony like she was reading some harlequin romance novel.

Eddie looks down, a happy and bashful smile tugging up the corners of his mouth and making his deep dimples appear in his cheeks. His hand rested on the leather booth between you and he slowly slides it over, linking his pinky with yours. You can practically hear what he’s dying to whisper in your ear right now.

Best night ever.

“Gosh, Truth or Dare really takes me back,” Chrissy sighs as she starts to sit back and then jolts forward. “Oh, my god! Is that what we were playing that first time we…you know? Or, wait, it was Never Have I Ever?”

In an instant, your spine went stiff. You withdrew your hand from Eddie’s, the loss of the heat from his pinky leaving a cold ring around your own, and stared cautiously at Chrissy.

“Um…the first time you, what?”

“You know,” Chrissy says, bouncing her brows suggestively. “Our thing.”

“Wh-what thing? What does that mean?”

All the airiness you’d felt just seconds ago has been vacuumed straight out of your chest. You look over at Eddie with wide eyes and find his face is panged with regret.

Chrissy glances at him warily.

“You didn’t tell her?” she asks. Oh no…

“No, not exactly,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted her to know about…you know…”

Jesus fucking Christ if someone doesn’t finish an actual sentence I’m gonna scream.

“Oh my god, Eddie! Look how panicked she is!”

Chrissy scoots closer to you, placing a gentle hand on your back and rubbing it in small circles. It’s almost calming right up until the moment you imagine her fucking your boyfriend, or blowing him, or jerking him off, or a million other things that apparently didn’t qualify as “dating.”

“I’m so sorry we upset you, babe,” she says. “I swear, I figured you knew. It’s not a secret, it just might sound a little scandalous.”

You swallow hard, throat clenching, trying to bring some relief to your mouth that has gone impossibly dry. Reaching for your drink, hoping neither of them can see how your hand trembles as you do, you take a long gulp and place the glass back down a touch too hard.

“Can one of you please just tell me what you’re talking about?”

“Of course, of course,” Chrissy says. “We had a, um…” Her eyes sweep to Eddie. “What would you call it? An arrangement?”

Eddie shrugs as he takes a nervous swig of his beer. “An alliance?”

Chrissy’s head bobs, ponytail swinging back and forth, not entirely satisfied with that either.

“Well, whatever you call it…we were sharing girls.”

Of all the things you expected to come out of Chrissy’s mouth, that didn’t even make the list. You can feel your mouth parting in confusion, brows marrying together as your face furrows.

“Wh…what does that mean, exactly?”

“We would hook up with girls together,” Chrissy explains. “He and I never did anything, but if we found a girl we both liked, we’d take her home.”

Your brain scrambles, trying to make sense of what you’re hearing.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t get it. How…how, um, did that work exactly? Why would you…”

“Did you tell her anything about me?” Chrissy demands, her gaze whirling onto Eddie.

“I didn’t know if you wanted it broadcasted,” he says, voice hushed as he glances around.

Chrissy shakes her head, a long-suffering kind of motion like he was her little brother who had left the toilet seat up. Her attention turns back to you and she lowers her voice seriously.

“In that case, I’ve been holding this in long enough and it’s high time you knew the truth.” She reaches out to take your hands in hers and arranges her face in the most solemn expression possible. “My name is Chrissy Cunningham…and I fucking love pussy.”

Part Two

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff

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astronomical-bagel · 5 months

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also, scar's ploy for this episode? Not new at all. So often he tries to make allies by saying 'you see everyone else? I hate them, they probably hate you too, we should team up bc that makes sense. I will also give you nice things in order to be your ally.'

sometimes it kinda works, but then he so often ruins this by doing this to every single team on the server, and so everyone knows that he's conning them and they don't trust him and he ends up with very many enemies!! this happens in basically every season to varying degrees-- with last life obviously being the most severe.

but today.... holy shit today... he gives Joel a kill and therefore ten hearts, he gave Bdubs that creeper spawner a little bit ago, he agrees to burn down the globe with the Heart Foundation and then tells on them, cementing him as trustworthy in everyone's minds. Near the end both the mounders and gem & the scotts are trying to convince scar to be on their team.

Despite being the designated 'villain of the server', being alone and pathetic made everyone less wary of him and contributed a lot to him winning the game. I'm so in awe that this plot of his finally worked, and I'm so fucking proud of him bc he so deserves this win so much. Everyone give it up for the one and only goodtimeswithscar <33

#astronomically random #secret life spoilers #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #secret life #Astro liveblogs

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izvmimi · 10 months

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our time - izuku x reader

cw: minors dni, fem!reader, reader implied to be a hero & high school sweetheart, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex, public sex, hot tub sex, shower sex, sex toy use, safe word use, rapid shifts between humor, smut, and hurt/comfort, lots of cheesy jokes tbh, deku is a little bit sassy, bakugou and shinsou have unnamed female partners, baby mention. summary: you and izuku share a yearly tradition. a/n: i'm reposting this hella self-indulgent selfship fic because i can!

“This is a lot of packing for a two day trip,” Izuku teases, as you hand him your overstuffed suitcase, the same dark green typical of his merchandise. He places it next to his noticeably lighter one, which coincidentally is a deep purple and has your Hero name plastered all over it.

“Yeah, but I’m guessing you want to see me in as many outfits as possible in a 48 hour period, right?” you tease back, tapping him gently on the nose. He leans in as he presses the rear door close button to the SUV, then grins.

In a low voice, he whispers, “that’s quite a bit of clothing for me to tear off. Are you sure?”

Your face warms and you hate that you never win at this game, but try to come up with something quick to say.

“I’ll be swiping your card indiscriminately to replace anything you ruin this year,” you add, eyes lowering to where your finger is prodding his chest. His eyes seem to twinkle.

“Sounds like I need to make more money then.”

He’s won this round. The warmth spreads to your ears and reflexively you hit his shoulder. His grin widens and you slip from his gaze to run to the passenger side of the car. No more time for banter.

“We’re gonna be late, Izuku!"

Bakugou has given you clear instructions to pick up the keys to your shared vacation home between 6 to 7 pm and will give you absolutely no room for tardiness. You anticipate that he’ll make all manners of disgusted facial expressions when you show up to his place, given that he knows exactly what you’ll be doing for the next 48 hours, and you are still trying to decide whether or not you should play along and double down or admit that you’re a little embarrassed ever since you started this tradition.

Or at least that you’re embarrassed your closest friends are aware of what exactly this tradition entails.

Izuku, on the other hand, never has any shame it seems. If anything, he’s a little overeager for this “retreat” this year, and it’s almost certainly because the past few weeks at work were nothing short of a nightmare for him. Catastrophes that seemed to only prop up as far as humanly possible from you seemed to be the order of the day recently, and you hadn’t had time for dedicated physical intimacy in a while, let alone even see him between missions. The only thing that made it easier to tolerate his absence was that you fell asleep so fast these days due to exhaustion that you barely noticed his side of the bed stayed empty the entire night.

As he drives, possibly a little too fast and somewhat recklessly (frankly unexpected for a person like him), he holds your hand with varying levels of tightness as though he’s playing with the feel of your hands in his - remembering it, reacquainting himself. He doesn’t say much yet but you can tell by the look in his eye and the twitch in his lips (controlling his urge to talk under his breath), that he’s daydreaming. You have an idea what of.

Pervert.

“What are you thinking of, Izuku?” you inquire after a moment. The goal of the statement is to disarm him which only works half the time.

“Sex,” he replies, bluntly. He doesn’t turn to look at you, focusing on the road carefully, but his fingers tighten again around yours as you pull away indignantly.

“Stop!” you hiss and he laughs loudly. Every time he sneaks a glance at your flustered expression for the next few moments, he breaks out into another bout of laughter and you can’t help but smile too.

“People need to know how ridiculous you are sometimes,” you murmur. “I should expose you, honestly. Let them know who their hero really is.”

“I thought you hated sharing me with everyone,” he says. You meet his sideways glance as he turns, hand over hand, into Bakugou’s driveway. You consider his words for a moment, then sigh.

“I guess you’re right. I do.”

The car slows to a stop and he parks then faces you in the car for a moment. Sometimes you wonder how he manages to do this - look at you every so often like it’s truly the first time he’s ever seeing you, even if you’ve known each other since you were high-schoolers. He places a hand on your knee as you turn towards him.

“I’m yours, okay? Not just during our birthday vacation but all the time,” he reminds you. You twist your mouth to the side. There’s something about Izuku that indulges the more immature parts of you, and he handles them all the same.

“Understood?” he insists.

You nod, pretend-reluctantly, and he whispers, “Good girl,” before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Things have been hard recently, you think, but when he’s close to you like this, everything you go through feels worth it. There’s another kiss that makes it to your lips, and perhaps your arms make their way around his neck and-

“I swear to God if you guys start to fuck on my property, I will tear both of you a new one.”

With Bakugou’s irritated voice calling out to you, there’s a flash of the driveway lights that nearly blinds you, as though you are teenagers being caught getting too close in the driveway of your parents’ home.

Izuku steps out of the car first and Bakugou throws a set of keys at him before flashing you an annoyed look. You give him a cheeky raise of the eyebrows to acknowledge him similarly, pretending not to notice the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt, and look around him to see one of your favorite people make her way out of the house from behind him.

She’s wrapped haphazardly in a shawl and you laugh as she hugs you, able to tell she clearly just threw those clothes on ten seconds ago, if the breathiness in her voice and the flush in her cheeks is not enough to make it obvious.

“Please do not poke my eye out with your titties, I’m begging you love.” She grins widely as she squeezes you tighter.

“You don’t need your eyes to suck cock, do you?” she whispers into your ear. You roll your eyes.

“Can you ever be civilized?”

“Good question,” Bakugou asks, but not before slapping his wife’s ass on the way back into his house. “Don’t crash on your way there, Midoriya, I don’t want to pick up your shifts.”

“That’s his way to say ‘drive safely’!” your friend translates as she gives Izuku a quick, slightly more chaste hug, then jogs backwards back into the house where Bakugou is waiting. “Happy birthday! Let me know when you guys get there!”

“We will! Thanks!” you wave.

When you turn, Izuku is already getting back into the car. It doesn’t take long for both of you immediately to burst into laughter.

“Kacchan is such a hypocrite. As if we don’t see the bite marks all over his chest.”

“And __’s neck. Embarrassing.”

You tease but it’s cute to see them so happy. Of all your friends, you think they’ve been stable the longest, and their relationship simply fell into place. It helps you believe that perhaps things will be good for you long-term as well.

As if Midoriya can read your wistful thoughts, he picks up your hand and kisses the knuckles idly for a moment as he continues to drive, the highway tapering off into a smaller paved road as night settles in. Both of you are tired from the week, and opt for peaceful silence and music played at a low volume. After all, you will have plenty of uninterrupted time shortly.

---

You’re not sure when you dozed off exactly.

Izuku nudges you gently to wake you then carries you out of the car with one arm and produces a couple dark tendrils from Blackwhip with the other to pull the luggage behind you.

“I can walk,” you murmur, although you like the idea of being carried, and hope he insists, which he does, and you nuzzle closer into his chest, taking in the scent of his cologne.

There’s a small gate outside of the cabin that is truly underestimated by the word; rather, it is a large and lavish three-winged property, U-shaped, and fairly secluded in the forest and trees. A section, the rightmost one, belongs to you and features the name ‘Midoriya’ on a welcome mat in front of the entryway.

Izuku takes in an exaggerated deep breath as he opens the door, and excitedly exclaims,

“Finally. Peace and quiet.”

You try to stifle a laugh as he sets you down, and stretch out a hand for him to toss you his phone and drop in a special safe hanging from the side of the wall along with your own. There’s a preset timer set for 48 hours (except for emergencies) on its display that you contemplate before confirming.

“It’s silly that we do this!” you call out, feeling the disconnection to the outside world immediately the second the safe beeps to signal that it’s locked. Yet it’s necessary, because both of you are bad at blocking out the outside world and simply relaxing when needed.

Izuku steps out of the master bedroom, completely undressed aside from a pair of boxer briefs which he is also actively in the process of shedding. You take in his body, impressive in its shape and decorated with scars and freckles, and almost miss what he says.

“What’s silly is that you’re fully clothed when it’s hot tub time.”

Your eyes widen and you blink a few times in succession as you watch him strip to nothing, and suddenly you forget that you’re exhausted. Swallowing hard, you make your way towards him, but really past him, towards the room where your packed clothing lies, and he intercepts you on the way there, grinning widely as he towers over you.

“I need to get my bathing suit,” you pout, knowing very well you’re not getting past him.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lays kisses on your neck that immediately disarm you. You can feel your body sink into him, as you make soft sounds of protest but soon you’re in his arms again and he’s carrying you to the hot tub, lips connected with every step.

…

The night continues and you sink deep onto Izuku’s cock, heat rising around and inside you. Your fingers cling to his broad shoulders as you slide onto him repeatedly, half-lidded eyes gazing down at him. He aids your descent, gliding you onto him as he worships your bosom with his tongue, laving a different wetness along your nipples and the curve of your breast, sucking at the sensitive skin.

“God, I needed this,” he whimpers as he buries his face into your neck. He cums, holding you tightly, filling you for the first time that night. The splash of water as he moves you so that your back presses against him and he can kiss the nape of your neck is somewhat soothing to your ears, as is the sound of his breathing as he holds you close.

You need him more - always, really. You revel in the way he plays with your hair and runs his calloused hands along your skin.

You also revel further in the way he dives deep between your legs, after you’ve sat together in the tub and let stress melt away, and after you’ve fucked a second time in the shower, your back pressed against the warm tile, and his hands supporting the weight of your thighs, steady despite the slippery water running over your bodies. He sucks your clit and blows softly against your folds, excited by the tensing of your thighs against his head and the relentless moans.

“‘Zuku, it’s too much…”

It’s never too much, because you can always handle more of him, and he eats you out till you cry and cum all over again, messy on his face, wrists in the palm of his broad hand. He kisses your belly as you practically convulse and come down from your high.

“Wanna rest, baby?” he asks. It’s hard for you to speak as your head spins, so instead you curl up against him. He takes it as a yes.

You fall asleep in his arms, beating hearts pressed close together. There will be more in the AM.

---

The smell of breakfast wakes you before a gentle ache in your thighs. As you shift and reorient yourself from the unfamiliar surroundings, you can hear Izuku make his way in the room with an impossibly loaded tray of breakfast foods he sets precariously on a coffee table across from the California King bed.

“Rise and shine, love.”

Before you can shift, Izuku makes his way on top of you, laughing as you wriggle under him.

“You’re so freaking heavy,” you hiss, but your arms make their way around his bare chest and you inhale his scent. His natural smell is comforting in its familiarity and despite the fact that you’ve been skin to skin nearly all of last night, you crave more closeness. His voice rumbles against your skin as he holds you tightly.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

“Like a baby,” you reply.

“Perfect. We should have breakfast,’ he insists. “We could go on a short hike and watch some of the birds in this area.”

“Mm, definitely.”

You kiss his forehead and satisfied, he rolls off of you too quickly for you to reach and slap his ass. He gives you a cheeky look and you crinkle your nose at him first before you decide to get out of bed.

You slip your feet into warm fuzzy sandals and head to the bathroom to brush your teeth first. A blanket is wrapped around your naked body, because you don’t like how the floor-to-ceiling glass windows make it easy for anyone (anyone who dares to anyway) to peep at you. Izuku is at the second sink at the far end, rubbing day-old stubble on his chin to decide if he wants to shave.

“Keep it,” you ask him as you press toothpaste onto your toothbrush. In response, he scratches his chin against yours as you bat him away.

“Maybe I will.”

Breakfast is filled with chatter and laughter, realizing you haven’t had enough time to really speak to each other in the past few months, despite living in the same house. You hold his hand as you walk up higher and higher up the mountain, clad in shirts and cargo shorts and too much sunscreen, bellies full but not heavy.

Izuku has a guide in his hand that you cannot fathom when he had the time to read that identifies more than a couple of creatures that soar above in the early morning, and you get surprisingly good pictures, particularly when Izuku uses his Quirk to get you high into the treetops for a better vantage point.

You do some foraging as well, of different fruits and flowers to add to your scrapbook, petals to press later -

Much like you find Izuku pressing into you shortly after, shrouded in the denser part of the brush, away from the shy fauna. All you can feel is him, all you can see is him raised above you, and the caws of birds that are probably embarrassed to witness how easily you drip like sap around him.

“..h-harder, Izuku,” you demand, scratching at his neck, his chest, his back, anything to communicate your feral desire. He bites your shoulder as he grunts in response, driving as much cock into you as he can muster, and you get what you asked for.

---

“I can’t believe you convinced me to roll around in the dirt with you.”

You gently admonish him with a kick of your leg, sending bathwater splashing at his face. He grips your leg and straightens it, laughing as you give him a slightly surprised look.

“As opposed to everything else you’d be willing to do for me?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your ankle. You can feel heat spread to your neck as he kisses further but stops just short of your knee, and then wades from his end of the bathtub to yours, pulling you to his side.

“When did you get so cocky?” you flick more water at him with your fingers as he grins. Your bodies shift in position, until your back rests against his chest and he’s holding your breasts in your hands, grazing your nipples with his thumbs.

“Way back when I finally got your attention.”

You turn suddenly to kiss him then pause. His lips are parted and soft and he looks somewhat surprised by your sudden movement. There’s something that’s said between you two without words, something that whispers I’ve missed you despite the fact that you and he have always been here.

“Do I still have it?” he whispers suddenly, as his lips ghost yours.

“Always.”

The scent of rose and jasmine fills your nostrils and love fills your heart.

---

“I’m surprised even though this is the third time we’ve been here, I never get tired of this place,” you say as Izuku lays his head in your lap. Izuku might as well be something like a cat or a bunny at this rate - you can practically feel him purr with the gentle scratches of your nails against his scalp, and his hand squeezes your thigh gently whenever you stop. “I still don’t think we’ve seen everything,” you continue.

“Probably not,” he agrees. His wavy hair is slightly damp still, and the rise and fall of his chest is slow and steady. He’s staring up at the ceiling and you can tell his mind, for once in a long while, is almost completely clear.

Almost.

You can’t lie that you haven’t been a little worried about your phone messages and other updates you’ve been missing while you’ve been engrossed with Izuku, and you can tell he feels similarly, a little bit of guilt settling in. It’s the same for you. Work, work, work. That’s what life has been like between you two as you’ve climbed your respective career ladders, trying to save the world as best you can. Times like this are rare and need to be protected as something as precious as people’s lives.

“Oh my God, do you remember the last time we were here and your nosy self thought it was a smart idea to start exploring the other wings?”

Izuku’s eyes widen as he recalls.

“Fuck.”

You start to laugh and kick your legs and he gets up, shaking his head.

“Shinsou told me the next time I trespassed he would have me shit myself in public. I hear him in my nightmares sometimes, honestly.”

You laugh even louder, doubled over as the image of Izuku, suddenly dangling from the ceiling by his ankle the second he passed through one door too many.

“The way you called my nameeeeeee!” you cackle as he pouts. “You were swinging there like a trapped animal!”

He purses his lips at you but you’re too busy laughing your ass off to notice, and eventually he ends up laughing too, falling back into your lap. His hands reach up to press your cheeks together.

“You know, it’s weird how many ropes and traps and harnesses are just littered around… Your friends are into some kinky shit,” he points out. Remembering many a midnight conversation about Shinsou and your friend’s ventures into shibari, you simply have to agree.

“I don’t know, I guess she likes being tied up.”

Izuku shoots you another glance, and you can see the glint of mischief in his eye.

“Do you want me to tie you up more?”

You tap his forehead with two fingers. “If I were into that, you’d know by now.”

He pretend-bites your fingers the next time you poke him. “Things can change.”

“Fair,” you reply. You pause, and then you look at him suspiciously. “You have ropes in your bag, don’t you?”

Izuku laughs frankly at the accusation. “I actually don’t, but I’ll keep that in the back of my mind… Plus Blackwhip is always handy.”

You can feel your face grow hot and he pats your face teasingly.

“I have other things packed, though.” Izuku grins.

That’s how you end up, spine curled into a C and legs raised with ankles by your head, panting and trembling as Izuku intermittently presses a vibrator against your clit.

“Come on, one more for me, baby,” he pleads, kissing the sweat on your brow as he holds your wrists above your head with one hand and torments your pussy with the other. Your voice comes out in soft cries as you try to recover from muscles clenching around nothing every time he makes you cum, swallowing the noises that slip out of your throat in orgasm with a kiss.

“I d-don’t have any more!” you cry, tears at the corner of your eyes. He gives you a long look and switches off the vibrator, and the last few pulses threaten to send you over the edge again. You’re too tired to wriggle out of the position and he doesn’t move you, keeping you in place.

“Temperature?” he asks.

You consider for a moment despite your lust-filled haze.

“Hot,” you finally decide. He smiles then bites your lip before switching the vibrator back on.

---

“I don’t want to leave,” you say first.

The two of you watch the stars around a small bonfire and share bites of cake that is slightly too sweet for his liking and slightly too heavy for your liking but somehow neither of you can get enough of. He says nothing but nuzzles into your neck more as you cuddle.

It’s surprisingly quiet and melancholy now, as if just a couple hours ago you weren’t screaming his name, as if his thumbs weren’t just dug in the spaces where you back and your glutes meet as he gave you relentless backshots.

“I wish we could stay forever like this,” you continue, then you laugh. “But you’d get sick of me, wouldn’t you, Izuku?”

“Never.”

You turn to look at him. He sounds a little bit too serious. He’s not looking at you but at the fire ahead and you worry that he’s worrying about facing tomorrow yet again. Izuku has once told you that it’s not that he’s no longer nervous, but that the anxiety is less and less able to prevent him from acting the way his heart tells him to as time goes on.

His legs move first. Always. And yet, it doesn’t mean the fear is no longer not there. It creeps when the rush of adventure is no longer able to drown it out.

It creeps when he holds you like this.

“You’d get tired of me first,” he adds as he fixes his gaze onto you.

“You know that that’s ridiculous,” you giggle. But he isn’t laughing and the crackle of the fire is suddenly too loud.

“It isn’t. There’s a lot you can have that I can’t give you all the time.” He says. Your heart starting to race, you pull away from him just slightly and his hold on you releases just enough for you to turn and really face him.

“I don’t want anything else,” you insist.

“You should,” he says. The tone of his voice is a little quieter now, and then he repeats himself louder. “You should want someone who is present.”

“I want you.”

He doesn’t say anything else because he knows you will argue away anything he tells you. So instead he sighs, not wanting to ruin the last few hours of vacation.

“Someday, it’ll just be this,” he says, “and it’ll be more than enough.” He kisses the top of your head. “I promise.”

You believe him. You know what he means by this intrinsically, as though you were in his head. A space for just the two of you and nothing to worry about. Where you can grow old together, where you are no longer weighed down by what you have yet to achieve and what you have already accomplished.

---

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear.

You know he does. You know, and if for even a second you forget, he will tell you over and over and over again.

Your fingers intertwine with his and you sigh, back arching as you open up for him. You fit together perfectly, again and again and again. Forever.

There’s a deep flush in his cheeks as he whispers words of praise into your skin. Another year passes and your love only continues to grow, tended to or not.

“I love you too, Izuku. Happy birthday.”

---

“The second my phone turns on, she’s gonna call me, watch,” you joke, as you open up the phone safe. 48 hours are up, and yes your legs are wobbly, but the red string of Fate that ties you two no longer frays. As expected, there is a flurry of texts that blow up your phone, and as Izuku prepares the car, you try to see which one you can respond to first.

I set the timer by the way 👶🍼. May the odds ever be in your favor.

gtfoooooo 💀, you text back to Shinsou’s favorite rope bunny. But as you watch your husband disappear into the distance, you think that it might not be so bad to have a little one.

“So how many?”

The expected phone call arrives while the two of you are back on the road.

“How many what?” you ask suspiciously. Izuku glances at you with curiosity.

“Orgasms? What else?” she clarifies, and you’re immediately flustered, practically able to see the mischievous smile on her face. Izuku hears it through the end of the receiver and laughs, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

“Izuku, do not answer-”

“Whatever Bakugou’s capable of plus one,” he says loudly, leading in.

“Bullshit!” your friend shouts back, and you can hear her already shuffling to tell Bakugou and you sigh.

“I’m hanging up,” you announce before an argument begins.

“Why babe?” Izuku whines, but the phone clicks off and he laughs even louder. “He’s gonna be thinking about that all night.”

“Don’t pick up the phone,” you say, but a smile forms on your face. You look forward and the sun is setting on the horizon as you drive next to Izuku.

It was a nice weekend. You’ll have many more to come.

Together.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #deku smut #pro hero deku smut #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes

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meryldian · 11 months

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Hi, i'm loving your work, you're so talented. I was wondering if you could do an arguing with the Kaulitz twins (separate) HC please? ❤

I sure can!! Tysm for the request ִ ࣪𖤐

✶ Arguing with the Kaulitz Twins ✶

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

★ Bill Kaulitz ★

Let’s start softly

This may have been said many, many, many times but it’s true. You guys rarely fight, but! When it comes to little arguments over some petty topics I’m afraid it’s the opposite.

It never lasts long.

You accidentally pulled a loose thread on his silk shirt? He’s going to pout about it for the next thirty minutes

You stepped on him? He will dramatically say you’re plotting against him

Missed a chord on stage? Oh he will be genuinely annoyed for a little while

When it comes to serious arguments though, you need something big to anger him so badly.

It would start just like your usual bickering. Making petty remarks at each other and someetimes avoiding the main issue.

Once his face drops and he goes completely serious you know it's about to go down.

Bill can be very pigheaded so he will stick to his point no matter what. He likes being right just as he likes being in control.

He's the type to speak really fast and cut your word because he feels the need to explain himself.

Is very consious of what he says though, he will never say something hurtful that he doesn't mean.

It's a different story if he actually means it. He's brutally honest and if you did something bad he will tell you without sugarcoating it, even if it can come across as rude.

Bill can take a lot in but there's always a point where he breaks, it's normal.

Look he's not a rude person at all, but he's not one to let things slide either.

A flaw of his is that he may say a hundred things at once and expect you to listen through but there's times when one of your first replies will make him cry or freak out right away. Ofc not always but it's one of the things Bill would need to work on.

He is not that aggressive but is VERY defensive.

Bill doesn't like conflict though, this is really a worst case scenario where something comes up and you guys need to argue it out.

Friendly reminder that it is necessary in relationships to argue from time to time as long as it stays healthy.

If the argument gets too heated Bill prefers that you both part ways for a couple hours to cool down. Then you discuss again after re-arranging your thoughts.

At the end of the day he never meant wrong, he just wants to fix whatever came up.

Bill would feel terrible after you fight. He genuinely fears you’ll leave him or start hating him.

Would not apologize instantly because his pride plays a big game, but give it some minutes or an hour; worst case a day and he will come back sobbing and asking for your forgiveness, expressing how much he loves you and how he never meant to fight.

You’re the type to be angry at each other but still cuddle at night.

Hug him and tell him he's valid please.

☆ Tom Kaulitz ☆

Tom, Tom, Tom

Believe it or not, Tom becomes quite submissive when he's very emphatuated with someone.

He really is at your mercy.

Yet it doesn't change the fact that he's a bit of a hot-head and just like Bill, he likes when he's right.

Let's not forget Tom was a bit of a punk activist growing up. You get what I mean when I say that be likes to get his point across. (Y'all need to read Bill's book if you speak/understand german it's a GEM. There's also a girl narrating some of it in spanish on YT :)

Unfortunately, arguments do happen often. Sometimes it’s really nothing but other times it can get pretty ugly.

When you guys are mad at each other everyone knows that it's better to leave you be because it will get loud.

Your fights range from small discussions that you have often to actual screaming matches when it gets bad.

It's inevitable for the both of you to raise your voices as each other in these cases.

The reasons may vary. It can be miscommunication, ESPECIALLY in 2006-8 when you were still young teens experiencing the world of fame.

Jealousy, for sure. I can see Tom being skilled enough at hiding it but he’s very possessive still.

And well, it’s still Tom. Again if you focus on his earlier years of fame the amount of girls throwing themselves at him can definitely be a cause of conflict.

Unless you’re very chill about it.

There’s definitely still possessiveness on Tom’s side.

I feel like neither of you would really know how to process the frustration.

A little thing to take into consideration is that you’d be the couple that argues, yell that you hate each other and then 10 minutes later you’ll be back to normal and never speak of it again.

Which you need to work on.

It’s because of this very reason that some of your fighting topics can be repetitive.

From what the twins have confessed, they could get pretty aggressive with their surroundings.

Tom would never, NEVER, raise a hand at you. No need to worry.

But the items around him can’t say the same.

He’s the kind of person that feels the anger in him build up physically and needs some release. When he’s fuming, in the worst of scenarios some tables would be kicked or some object would fly around. Just never at you.

This habit does get worked on throughout time though, he matures and grows.

The only physical fight that would ever go down is a pillow fight. Or play fights. Or in bed. But that’s another story.

A bit similar to Bill, Tom needs some time to cool off, just does it more impulsively.

He would walk out sometimes because it’s far too overwhelming.

Makeup sex is a big thing in your relationship.

Tom would love to express himself better and talk things through he simply needs help doing it.

Maybe you’re the help he needs.

#bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #gustav schäfer #georg listing #tokio hotel x reader #georg listing x reader #gustav schafer x reader #gustav schaefer #x reader

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so-long-soldier-writes · 3 months

Text

Teensy Little Crush

kai parker x shy!reader | requested by @luckyvampyr ; the other idea from when i asked for fluffy prompts!

summary: you have a crush on kai you haven't been able to shake for weeks. unfortunately, you're too shy to do anything about it, either. but luckily, elena steps in with a plan, and helps you win over the witch's heart.

tags: fluff, crushes, alcohol, gifts, anxiety, slightly awkward flirting, mystic falls gang (+ reader) friendship, bad planning, cooking, bad-ish childhood memories, teasing, first kisses

word count: 6.6k

a/n: this is the one i've had written for centuries & haven't been able to title. i got antsy and gave it a silly title so that i could post it 😅

You don’t know what it is, something about him just makes you giddy. Ever since the merge, he’s mellowed out immeasurably, and while he still annoys your friends, you’ve found something endearing about him. Kai, of course, is still Kai. He’s reckless, and troublesome, and doesn’t make a lot of considerations before doing things, but he’s getting better about it. He has somewhat of a grip on his emotions now, which is helping as he integrates himself into life in Mystic Falls.

Initially, Damon assumed he’d go back to Portland after the merge, but something told you that wasn’t a possibility. Everyone knows how the Parkers grew up, either from Liv, Luke, Jo, or Kai himself. The story varies between siblings, but at least two truths in the matter remain the same: their family is tragically dysfunctional, and the coven always comes first. So why would Kai, hated by his family and his coven, return to his hometown?

Damon heaves a big sigh when you remind him of this.

“So what do you suppose we do about him?” The man ponders out loud.

“Keep an eye on him; see how this goes. But let him figure things out here, I guess,” Elena says.

“Ugh.”

“What other options do we have?”

You and Bonnie look over to him, and the couples’ gaze quickly follows. Kai drinks alone at the bar, scrolling his phone and bouncing his knee. He’s turned in such a way that you can see one of the dimples in his cheeks everytime he smiles. When he catches the bartender’s attention to show him something, Bonnie groans. You bite your cheek to not smile.

“We can’t just kill him?”

“Not without killing Jo,” Elena reminds her friend.

A collective groan now rings throughout the table, but your eyes are still on him.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the girls’ room. Drank too much at once.”

Elena’s words register with you as she stands. You then stand up, too, putting your napkin on the table. “I need to go too.”

She smiles, and the two of you leave Damon and Bonnie alone.

You wash your hands side-by-side, and then Elena starts to fix her makeup in front of the mirror. You take the extra minute to touch up your own.

“I can tell you have a crush on him,” she says suddenly.

“What?” A jolt runs down your spine, and you poke your eye with your mascara brush. “Ow!”

She has the nerve to laugh. “You okay?”

“Not funny!”

“Case in point - that reaction.”

“I do not have a crush on him.”

“Y/N.”

“I don’t!”

“You’ve been watching him all night. I heard your heart rate calm when I said to let him stay here, and it sped up when Bonnie suggested to kill him. Not to mention, I can see the way you bite your cheeks to not smile at him. And don’t think I didn’t catch the glossy, lovesick look in your eyes yesterday when he winked at you from across the grill. Your heart sped up then, too.”

You can only blink at the slew of evidence stacked against you. The fact she noticed all these things and compiled a list of them takes you aback.

“I see all, Y/N,” she jokes playfully.

“Fine. I might have a minor crush on him.”

“It is not minor.”

“Might have a Corgi-sized crush on him.”

“I see more like a Great Dane sized crush, but okay.”

Your eyes widen. “Elena!”

She only laughs. “To be honest, I’m kind of offended that you don’t think I can read you. We’ve been friends for how many years…?” She starts counting on her fingers.

“Okay, point made, you can read me! What are you gonna do about it?” Your tone is much more concerned than challenging.

“What?”

“My, y’know,” you lower your voice, “crush. What are you gonna do? Tell Damon? Bonnie? Hell, Kai?”

“Of course not, that’s between us. But I think you should tell him.”

“Who?”

“Kai.”

“Oh absolutely not.”

“Why not? Because he’s a sociopath, or because you can’t approach him without blushing?”

“Elena!”

“Which is it?!”

“I don’t know! Both, I guess. Mostly the latter.”

“Well you’ve said it yourself a hundred times, he’s getting better with his emotions. Understanding them more. You could have a chance.”

“You don’t sound so certain.”

“I am! It happened with Damon.” Your eyes narrow, and she continues. “Damon was borderline sociopathic only a couple years ago, remember? When they first arrived in town, and I was with Stefan, and he wreaked absolute havoc everywhere he went. But I still developed a crush on him, and he fell for me, and I then fell completely for him, and look at us now. If you want him, the least you can do is talk to him.”

The reminder gives you hope. Maybe Kai could follow the same path Damon did. Maybe you could have something with him. Elena’s apparent support of it helps. Still…

“‘Lena, I can’t go up to him and start a conversation, or tell him that, I’m not as confident as you.”

“Then just start by talking about other things. Or start really simple and wink at him from across the bar like he does at you. Or, here’s an idea, get his attention in little, somewhat anonymous ways. Give him little gifts, or notes, or something like that. That, or Pavolv him with offering candy, and then whenever he sees you, he associates you with something sweet.”

“That sounds like manipulation, ‘Lena. I can’t do that. And I don’t know how he’d take it, either.”

“Don’t think of it that way, think of it that you want his attention, but don’t know how to get it straightforward, so you find it with other ways. Trust me, he won’t be offended. He’ll probably be elated that someone’s giving him little things. He’ll probably think it’s cute, too, that a shy girl such as yourself can’t look at him without blushing but is secretly, deeply craving something with him.”

“Oh my god, Elena.”

“Oh, stop being shy about it! If there’s anyone in this town who would enjoy the game in corrupting your shy, innocent ways, it’s Kai.”

“I’m not innocent, I’m just shy.”

“And you can show him that once you get his attention.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me anymore after finding that out?”

“How could he not like you? You’re sweet and kind, but I know you have that badass side to you, too. He’ll see it and love it the minute you show it.” She applies more red lipstick, then smacks her lips together. “And don’t forget, we’re talking about Kai, who has never been shown any kind of affection in his life. He’ll fold the minute you offer it.”

“Who’s to say he wants it from me?” You see her point, but still have doubts.

“Me,” she answers easily, “who has never seen him wink at anyone but you at the bar. Who has watched his eyes follow you throughout the grill, and watched them get heavy with disappointment when you leave. I’ve even seen him adjust himself in his seat more times than I can count.”

“What does that mean?”

“Remember that time you spilled your drink down your shirt and had to napkin-dry your chest by reaching down your shirt?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, well when I did a grill-sweep to make sure no one was watching, he was. And when we made eye contact, his heart rate accelerated faster than a rollercoaster and he had to move his legs around because something tells me those jeans were a little too restricting.”

“Elena!”

“I’m just telling what I saw! But I’m serious, you have a chance with him. Just give it a try.”

“Okay. But if it backfires, it’s on you.”

“I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Good.”

You both finish up your makeup, then go back to your table.

“That was a long bathroom break,” Damon says as soon as you arrive.

“We had a little girl talk. Sorry Bon.”

“No worries, we’ve been talking, too,” she replies.

“About?”

Damon answers his girlfriend. “The weasel and his wandering eyes. Watched you guys go to the bathroom, trained them on the door waiting for you to come out.”

“Where is he now?”

“Well we’ve officially entered the hour of the frat boy,” Damon nods to the clock, which reads nine p.m., “and he’s been buried in the sea of them.”

“I say we go before they start a racket,” Bonnie says. You agree.

“Alright, time to head out. Bon, Y/N, see you tomorrow. Elena, you coming with me?”

“For a little, yeah. But I’ll be back to the dorm by eleven.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, I’m gonna get a shot to go,” you say to the group.

“Ooh, get me one!” Elena asks, putting on her coat.

You head to the bar and order two bourbon shots.

The bartender rings them up with a smile. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, um… Can I pay for his?” You poke your pinky finger in the direction of Kai.

“Him? With the phone?” Kai’s the only one with his phone, unlike the ten college boys crowded around him.

“Yeah.”

“Sure. Anonymously?”

“Just don’t give him my name.”

“Okay. That’ll be $21.30 total. $5.33 for your shots; $15.97 for his. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Friend of yours?”

“Kinda.” The sudden blush on your cheeks tells him all he needs to know.

He chuckles. “Got it. ‘Kay, you’re all set.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a good night.”

“You too.”

You and Elena take your shots before heading out into the cold. You part ways, divided into two at the door, and send her a wink that you’ve already started on her little plan.

Around the same time you leave, Kai decides he’s had enough of the noise. He waves the bartender over to pay, but furrows his eyebrows at his words.

“You’re all set.”

“What?”

“Someone paid for your drinks.”

“Who?”

“Asked me not to say their name.”

“Point them out.”

“Sorry man, already left.”

Kai looks to the door anyway, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of someone outside it. He sighs, out of luck.

“Did you recognize who it is?”

“Seen ‘em in here before.”

“You’re not gonna give me anything?”

“Scout’s honor not to tell.”

Kai glares, but then ultimately gets up to leave. He’s determined to find out who it was; what their intentions are by doing such a thing. If he doesn’t, it’ll itch at him all night.

Three days later, Kai has yet to find out who paid for his drink, but when he enters the grill that night, the bartender offers him a cheesy smile.

“What?”

“First shot’s been paid, what would you like?”

“What? Who?”

“Scout’s honor not to-”

“Okay, okay, don’t say it again.”

“What will it be?”

“Gin,” he replies, then immediately begins to look around the restaurant.

Nothing’s out of the ordinary in terms of customers. The usual group of geezers and their beers are in one giant booth. A couple early frat boys play pool in the corner. The unofficially-named Mystic Falls gang occupies the table to his left, and Tyler and Matt chat on the other side of the bar. Kai eyes every person individually for hidden answers within their eyes. Granted, most of the people in here would probably dodge his gaze, but he still tries.

After a while of searching, he grows frustrated. The bartender chuckles, then receives another glare.

“Still looking?”

“Would be easier if you’d tell me.”

“Maybe they don’t want to be found.”

“Why not?”

The man shrugs.

Kai only seems to get more agitated at that. His jaw tenses, but instead of pushing, he just orders another shot.

Meanwhile, you watch the interaction carefully from your table. When Bonnie leaves for the restroom, you poke Elena’s arm.

“He looks mad.”

Elena spares a glance. “He’s probably just confused,” she whispers.

“What are we talking about?” Damon asks, also whispering.

You wrinkle your nose, but give Elena a nod to let her tell him.

“Y/N’s finally acting on her little crush.”

“Eugh,” the man reacts, “on Kai?”

“Mhm.”

“Not just gonna let it die out? Give it a week or two, I promise, it’ll die out.”

“Damon!”

“And why are you encouraging this?” He asks his girlfriend.

“Y/N could be good for him. She’s been curiously crushing on him for weeks, it hasn’t ‘died out’ at all, and maybe she could help him. Besides, it’s not that far off from you and I. Remember when you were the psychotic killer in town?”

Damon rolls his eyes. “But this is Kai. He’s a scrawny little, magic sucking, weasel-looking, chatterbox, and is quite possibly the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“That’s rude.”

“It’s true!” He exhales rather loudly. “Does Bonnie know?”

“I haven’t told her. Figured that wouldn’t go down well.”

“Smart. But you should.”

“I will, just not yet.”

“So what have you done? Why’s he look upset?”

Elena answers, “she’s anonymously paid for his drink twice now. We get the feeling Kai knows it’s someone in the bar, but neither of us know how much the bartender has let on.”

“That man is a secret-keeper extraordinaire. Kai knows nothing.”

You nod. “I need to steer off the alcohol path soon, but I don’t have any other ideas. Elena?”

Damon answers instead, “pork rinds. Or any food, really. But pork rinds especially. Went through a whole bag in a day in the prison world.”

Elena makes a face. “Maybe also, like… something he could wear. Or something that would remind him of you.”

“What about a ring? He wears a lot of those. I don’t know what could remind him of me.”

“Does he even know you exist?”

“Damon!”

Before you can react, Bonnie returns. “What’d I miss?”

“Y/N has a crush on Kai,” Damon says, smirking. “She’s trying to get his attention in miniscule ways through tiny little gifts.”

You plant your forehead into the table. A fraction of a second before you do, though, you see Bonnie’s eyes going wide.

“Y/N!”

“Please don’t.”

“Are you insane?”

“Please talk quieter.”

“Are you insane?” She whispers.

“She might be,” Damon offers.

“Guys, it’s not the worst thing that could happen. And I do think she can help him.”

“Help him? Elena-”

“Kai would be a much easier ally than enemy. Dating Y/N, or at the very least, being friends, would help with that. Plus, she likes him. It’s just like when I liked Damon.”

“And I didn’t support that either,” Bonnie reminds.

“I know, but you’re best friends now.”

“Are you suggesting Kai and I will be besties after a couple weeks? No. We won’t.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. Just… Kai will be around regardless if we want him or not. Y/N has had a crush on him for the last two months. Might as well give it a chance.”

“And if it doesn’t work out? If he attacks her?”

“He won’t! Just give it a chance, Bonnie.”

She glares at you, and you look up just a little.

“I’m not helping your little endeavor to get his attention, but I won’t actively work against it, either. Just… be safe.”

“Of course.”

“Damon, what are your thoughts?”

The man shrugs. “I just wanna see what happens.”

You glare at him, but then raise your head and smile at Elena. “Thanks, guys.”

“Get him a ring, Y/N. He mostly wears silver… which you probably already know.”

You giggle, then drop your attention down to your food to avoid her teasing.

In the meantime of finding the perfect ring, you give him a bag of his favorite snack, per Damon’s suggestion. He mentioned he ate them a lot, and even said the boy was snacking in their first interaction.

“He would chew them very loudly, it was so annoying,” he said, “so make sure you give it to him and high tail it out of there.”

“Oh I’m not sticking around at all, I’m ringing the doorbell and running.”

Your shyness earned a chuckle from the man.

And you do exactly that. Kai has nothing close to a schedule, but you’ve observed him well enough to know he’s usually in his apartment at three in the afternoon. It’s the time in between his morning walk, afternoon lurk, and nighttime drink. When you drop off the bag in your hands - a brown paper bag of pork rinds, with a posy of red gerbera flowers - you have to be quick to find a close hiding spot.

For the record, the flowers were your idea. Deciding which type was a little difficult. You and Elena went back and forth between gerberas and chrysanthemums for ten minutes, liking the deep, red shades in both. After a bit, the florist approached and helped. Ultimately, you liked the symbolization of ‘desire’ behind the gerberas, and Elena was convinced the daisy would make him smile.

After assembling the gift, you creep towards his door, knowing he’s often on edge and listening intently. You can hear his footsteps inside, along with sounds coming from a phone. For a moment, he laughs, but then his heavy boots retreat again.

You almost run away, filling your own head with thoughts. This is such a bad idea. This is cheesy. This is pointless.

But then Elena texts, “you better not be talking yourself out of it.”

You take a deep breath, put it on his doorstep, ring the bell, and then hurry to the stairs. Luckily, you have a knack of getting out of situations quietly; it’s a perk of being introverted and shy.

In the stairwell, you stop to try and hear his reaction. You don’t dare look up, but you do wait just a moment. Even from a distance, you can hear his excited reaction. He sounds like a little kid given Legos. It takes everything in you to not poke your head up and see.

His boots start to sound down the length of the hall, possibly looking for the person who left it, and you take that as your cue to leave. As tempted as you are to see him in this moment, you’re not quite ready to expose your crush.

Kai hears movement in the stairwell. He quickens his pace towards it, acknowledging whoever it is seems determined to keep their identity a secret. They should know he’s equally determined to learn who it is, though, and Kai always wins.

As you hurry around the corner, he catches a glimpse of your hair flying behind you. He bites his lip, fighting a smile. He could recognize your hair any day.

Instead of calling out, he keeps to himself. He’ll give you this victory today; he’ll let you think he’s still totally clueless, for both your sakes. You clearly aren’t ready to face him, and Kai kinda likes the game you’re playing. Besides, he needs more time to sort out his own feelings. He’s known he’s liked you for weeks, but knowing he might have a chance with you is a game changer. As confusing as it is to recognize he has a crush, he finds himself excited, too.

For the rest of the day, he takes to the couch with the pork rinds, and lets his mind run wild, thinking about you.

When you finally find the perfect ring, you really haven’t been looking at all. It catches your eye through a window of a jewelry store, while your best friends are debating on whether or not to go into the neighboring store. The four of you are having a much needed break from the chaos of your local town. It was Caroline’s idea to drive an hour away to somewhere new.

A foot away, you can hear their musings.

“I think I might just go in for a minute,” Elena says, “I feel like if I walk away, I’m gonna regret not at least looking at that shirt.”

“I’ll go in if you go in,” Bonnie nods to her, “mostly to get out of this loud entryway.”

“But after, we need to find fries. Like, seriously,” demands Caroline, for the third time.

“We will! Shirt first.”

“Fine!”

“Caroline,” you wave for her attention, “you know a lot about jewelry.”

“Yes I do,” she agrees, leaving to join your side as the other two go into the store.

“You know what I’m doing with Kai, right?”

She narrows her eyes and a suggestive smile forms on her lips. “Doing with him?”

“Not like that! I mean-”

“Calm down, I’m teasing. Yes, you’re trying to get his attention because you have a crush.”

“Right. Do you think he’d like this ring? ‘Cause like, I know he wears silver, but I don’t know if he’d care about the little sliver of green in there, but I happen to know a lot about crystals, and know that is malachite, but I also know he hates his name, so I don’t know if that would be well received, or if he’d be upset.”

Caroline lets you ramble. As soon as you’re done, she begins to giggle.

“What?!”

“You’re so overthinking this, it’s adorable!”

“Caroline!”

“I don’t think he’d be upset, I think he’d like it.”

“But do men even care about color in rings? What if he only wears silver ones and doesn’t want any color? Let alone a crystal with his name in it!”

“Omg, Y/N, calm down. You’re stressing yourself out over this. Do you want to go inside and ask to see it? Let’s do that.” She takes your hand and goes immediately to the counter. A moment later, you admire the ring in your hand. “It’s pretty,” Caroline comments.

“Yeah… What if he thinks I’m trying to propose or something?”

Before the girl can erupt in more laughter, the salesperson replies, “this isn’t an engagement ring, actually. Are you looking for those?”

“Oh no, not at all!”

“My friend here has a crush on a boy who wears similar looking rings-”

“Caroline!”

“-and she wants to get him one instead of just telling him she likes him.”

“Ah,” the woman smiles.

“And she particularly likes the green on this one.”

“Well this is actually a crystal known as malachite.”

You nod, “his name is Malachai.”

“That’s fitting!”

“You should get it,” Caroline nudges your shoulder.

“This is one of our less expensive rings, but that doesn’t mean the quality isn’t as good as others. The malachite is ethically sourced from Australia, and the ring itself is made here in the US,” she starts her spiel.

“Okay, I’ll get it.”

“Perfect. Size?”

“Uhhh…”

“Average size for men is 10.”

“He’s six foot,” you provide.

“We’ll do a 10. It’ll be easy to size if he needs to.”

“Okay.”

She goes to the back to pack it up for you, and meanwhile, Caroline snickers.

“What?”

“You’re adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“Y’know, this is probably going to be the most expensive thing he owns.”

“It’s not even that much, Care.”

“Still… probably stole his other rings somewhere.”

You’d be upset at the accusation if it wasn’t most likely true. You whisper, “probably stole them off someone after killing them.”

She giggles. “And yet here you are, crushing on him.”

“Can’t help it. And you’re one to talk,” you refer to Klaus.

“This isn’t about me!”

“He wears rings, too. He might like that one over there.”

“Shush!”

The woman comes back and you both hush. “Here you go. That’ll be $43.50.”

You swipe your card. “Don’t tell Bonnie.”

Caroline snorts.

“She already thinks I’m insane for crushing on him.”

“This is quite the gift for a crush,” the woman mentions.

“Oh crush is a light term. Y/N won’t admit it, but she’s totally in love with him.”

“Care!”

“He likes her, too. But he’s just as shy about it as she is.”

“Stop talking,” you say through gritted teeth, face hot with blush.

“Well I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you. Have a good day.”

“You girls do too.”

Bonnie finds out immediately by way of pressing why you took so long in a jewelry store. Incidentally, she then becomes part of your plan in getting it to him.

The four of you decide you’re going to “run into him” by accident, where you’ll then present it as something you just “came across” in passing. It’s a horrible plan, but it’s the only one you have. And, it’s not entirely untrue, which will minimize the amount of stuttering you’d have while giving it to him.

At seven, Damon texts Elena that Kai had just sat down at the bar. He then calls her and loudly invites the four of them to dinner. Minutes later, you join the smirking vampire at his table.

“Nice shit plan you guys have.”

“Shh!” Caroline scolds, “it kinda needs to be shit if these two are ever going to actually talk to each other.”

Damon gets the point immediately. You’re too anxious to register Caroline’s words.

“Okay,” Elena turns to you, “I need a shot. Y/N, can you order a round?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t stutter!” Elena smacks her boyfriend. “Kidding,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes. As you near the bar, you take a couple deep breaths. Your friends watching this whole thing is certainly not helping your anxiety, but it’s now or never to act on this plan.

“Y/N,” the bartender nods as you slide up to the counter. You take the seat beside Kai, but don’t look at him yet. “What can I get you?”

“Five shots of bourbon, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kai bounces his knee nervously as he thinks of what to say to you. After a second, he blurts out, “hi.”

You face him. “Hi.”

“You here with someone or are all those shots for you?”

You laugh. “Nah, I’m here with all those,” you gesture to your friends.

Kai follows your hand. “Ah.”

“Hey, um…” three of your shots are poured. “I know you wear rings, and I saw this one the other day, and it looked like something you’d wear, maybe, I don’t know. But um,” you produce it from your pocket, “I got it for you anyway.”

The way his eyes light up warms your heart. He takes it gently and admires it.

“The green is malachite,” you say quickly, “I didn’t know if you’d like it, because I know you don’t like your name all that much, but still thought it was kinda cool.”

“It is cool,” he confirms, “I love it.” He slips it onto his right, middle finger, then smiles up at you. “And I like the malachite. Thank you, Y/N.”

“Your shots, Y/N,” the bartender hands you the five on a small plate.

“Thanks.” You turn back to Kai. “And, um, you’re welcome.” For a moment, you sit in silence, wishing you had the courage to confess, but you don’t. “I’m gonna go bring these to them.”

“Okay.”

You climb off the barstool, but of course stumble over one of the legs on your way down. Kai’s hands reach out to stabilize you. One grabs your shoulder; one’s under your arm, dangerously close to grazing your breast.

As soon as you’re stable, he pulls his hands away. “Sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t forget your shots.”

You smile, give him one more awkward “thanks”, then grab your shots and return to your table.

“Smooth,” Elena says immediately.

“Shut up.”

It’s been three days since you gave him the ring. You haven’t gone to the grill, nor seen him otherwise, partly in an attempt to avoid him. The ring was the first time you actually went up and talked to him, instead of indirectly giving him gifts or slipping in a hello during group conversations. And then, of course, at the end of your interaction, you managed to embarrass yourself. Kai was nice about it, which says a lot because he has little patience with most people, but you’re still embarrassed nonetheless.

So the next time you run into Kai, you’re not expecting it at all.

You’re in the kitchen of the boarding house with Elena, when one minute you look up, and he’s standing right across the counter from you.

“Well hello,” he greets, dimpled-smile wide.

Elena pops up from the floor, a cooking skillet in her hand that she just dug out from the lower cabinet. “Hello,” she greets questioningly.

“Hi,” you finally say. Short and sweet.

“What brings you here?” She nods to him.

“Bored. Wondering what’s going on in the big, giant mansion.”

“Just us cooking.”

“Ooh, fun. Y’know, I happen to be a pretty good cook.”

“Really? Prove it.”

You glance at Elena, silently cursing her for inviting him even closer to you. She smiles.

“Really?”

She nods at him.

“What were you making?”

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

“Ah. I used to make that for my siblings’ lunch. There’s a spice you’ve got to add in the soup that you wouldn’t think about, but it makes all the difference.”

“Impress us. We’ll make the sandwiches.”

Kai starts on the stove, and all you can do is stare. His back is turned to you, but everytime he reaches, you get a glimpse of his hands. The veins on the back compliment his long fingers. Two rings adorn his left; one is on his right - yours. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight. He turns around suddenly. “Where’s your spice rack?”

Elena points to the pantry. “On the door.”

“Thanks.”

“I remember you saying you could cook when you kidnapped me. The memory’s starting to return.”

“Awh, I did say that, didn’t I?” He smiles. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Yeah… who taught you how?”

“My father, surprisingly.” As he moves back to the stove, Elena nods at you to retrieve the bread, butter, and cheese. You do, as she turns on the fire. “Taught me how to measure with my eye. Taught me what spices do best with what dishes. He was more of the cook than my mother.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she was busy wrangling six kids.”

“Were your siblings all close in age?” You ask, hoisting yourself on the counter. The more he talks, the more your confidence grows, even if just a little at a time.

He looks up at you before tending back to his soup. “When Liv and Luke were toddlers, the oldest aside from Jo and I was thirteen. Pretty close.”

You nod.

“Interesting to me that your dad did most of the cooking,” Elena says, “usually men make their wives do all the work, especially in the time you grew up.”

The boy smiles at her subtle prod at him being way older than he looks. The reminder makes you gulp and shift your legs.

“Yeah, well, he loved her. He would’ve done anything for her. They both did the chores around the house. Jo and I, too, if I was allowed. I mostly cooked, though. They put up a baby gate so the toddlers couldn’t crawl into the kitchen when I was in there; they trusted me that little.”

“Was that for a reason?”

“I siphoned them more when I was younger, sure. By the time I was sixteen-ish, I had mostly learned my lesson not to do that anymore. As a kid, though, it was hard to resist. Sometimes I’d still steal from my oldest younger brother when he’d piss me off. He wouldn’t tell because he knew he deserved it.” When Elena gives him a quizzical look, he explains. “Early nineties, we had a computer, and Joey was obsessed with this wizard game that my mother hated. She thought it was too violent. So he’d wake up really early in the morning to go play it and would always wake me up. He’d let me siphon so I wouldn’t tell on him.” Kai winks. “Sometimes, too, we’d roughhouse when we weren’t allowed. He would always start it. He’d come into my room and throw something at me, or would slap me for no reason. Or, would just stand in the doorway and stare. If I caught the upperhand, we’d wrestle on the floor until he apologized. Then he’d let me siphon so I wouldn’t tell mom that he went in my room, because he wasn’t allowed to do that.”

You both nod, somewhat understanding. Sibling stuff. It’s familiar, siblings coming into your room just to piss you off, and then bribing them not to tattle. Kai just happened to use his lack of magic as his bribe; desperate to have something he was born without, despite all his siblings having unlimited access. You couldn’t blame him, really, especially with his brother teasing him as much as he seemed to have.

Kai turns off the stove as his soup begins to bubble. He looks up at you again, then chuckles. “You look cute up there.”

Immediately, you blush hard. You tuck your knees up, resting them on the edge of the cabinet door below you. “Thank you.” It comes out in a whisper, and he replies with a wink.

“Bowls?”

Elena points to the cabinet beside you.

“Ah, great. Watch your head,” he mutters, opening the door. You duck a little as he reaches into it. His shirt rides up slightly, skin rubbing into the counter’s edge.

“Do you need help?” You ask, holding your hands out to grab a bowl.

“Yeah, thanks.” He hands you one after another, then shuts the door. Elena turns off the stove, then nods at him for plates. “Which one?”

“The one she’s blocking.”

“Ah.” You start to get down, but Kai insists, “no, I can work around you.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you duck and shift to the left. Within seconds, his body is centimeters from touching yours. The softness of his gray shirt brushes against your exposed knee. “Hold,” he hands you a plate. You take it and set it down, then grab the other two from him. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

As you recover, he starts to organize the dishes. Elena goes to the fridge for drinks, but then clicks her tongue. “Gotta go to the basement fridge. Out of coke in this one.” She winks. She’s gone before you can say a word.

Kai finishes his task, then comes back to your side. He puts a hand on your knee, his right one, and then offers a smile.

“I like my ring. Thank you for it.”

You force a smile as you try to calm your racing heart. “You’re welcome.”

“And the pork rinds, I enjoyed those.”

“I didn’t do that.”

He chuckles. “The shots, too. Plus the pretty little daisy.”

“I didn’t do that, either.”

“Oh come on, princess. Admit it.” You tense up at the nickname and he can see it. “You can’t hide from me anymore.” He hooks a finger under your chin, but you refuse eye contact.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t even know where to buy pork rinds.”

“You’re so cute when you’re trying to lie to me.” You blush even more at that and he smiles. “Y’know, the shade of those daisies reminds me of the blush on your cheeks.” He licks his lips. “You can’t deny it, just admit it.”

“Kai, I can’t.”

“Can’t what? What’s wrong?”

“What do you even want me to admit?”

He laughs, as if the question is crazy. “Admit that you did it. Gave me cute little gifts and paid my ever-growing bar tabs.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Fine. I did. Happy?”

Apparently not. “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“Why’d you do it?”

“I thought you just wanted to know if I did it.”

“I did, and know I want to know why.”

“Kai-” you start, whining. He’s still holding your chin and it’s getting harder to not look at him.

“I like the way my name sounds on your lips, cutie,” he whispers. “Why don’t you just admit it and I can put something else on your lips?”

You finally look at him, eyes wider than a mouse’s.

“Awwh, there you are. Hi.” You stare, speechless. “Can I ask you something?” You only nod. “Is it safe to assume you have a little crush on me? Is that the reason for all this?”

You shake your head ‘no’.

“No? Really? Find that hard to believe.”

“Kai-”

“Princess, this’ll be so much easier when you just admit it.” He cocks his head. “What if I told you I have a little bit of a crush on you too, hm? Would that affect you at all?”

“You do?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re sweet, and shy, and just so cute. I mean, look at you. Perched on this countertop, and I could so easily grab you and hold you in my arms.” He smiles. “I’ve seen you moving around out of the corner of my eye. I know there’s a reason you’ve given me all these little gifts. Like this ring,” he shows it to you, “only you would care enough to do that. Not to mention the crystal inside it being part of my name.” You bite your lip in response and he grins. “See, I got you.”

“The food’s getting cold, we need to eat it.” You try to slide off the counter, but he catches your waist.

“Ah, ah, ah, not yet, little girl. Admit it first.”

“I already did!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Fine!” You give in, “I might have a tiny, little crush on you. And I thought if I give you things, you’d notice me.”

He smiles, satisfied with his win. “There it is! You have a crush on me.” You don’t look at him. “For the record, I already noticed you. And I’ve been watching you since I arrived in this town. Your gifts only told me that you were interested, too.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So what now?”

“You could let me kiss you. I bet you taste sweeter than you look.” He runs a finger along your jawbone.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod.

Kai wastes no time pressing his body into your legs and cupping your face in his hands. “You’re so cute,” he mutters. Then, a second later, kisses you softly. Your lips part in pleasure before you start to kiss him back. He takes advantage of this, sucking your lower lip in between his teeth and making his next kiss more passionate. You let your hands rest on his chest, but don’t push him off. A couple seconds later, he breaks it off himself.

“Even sweeter than I could imagine,” he says cheesily.

“Really?”

He pinches your cheeks. “Perfect.”

“What’d I miss?” Elena appears in the doorway, three drinks in her hands.

Kai smirks. “All the fun.”

The girl knows immediately. “Finally?”

“Finally,” Kai confirms.

“Wait- did you two-?” You point back and forth. “Did you-?”

“Promise, I didn’t say a word to him!” Elena swears.

Kai agrees, “not a word between us. You’re just bad at keeping secrets.” He bops you on the nose.

“You suck.”

“And you’re adorable when you pretend to be mad at me.”

You pout in response, peeling yourself off the counter. Kai kisses your cheek as you pop off, making you blush.

“Sandwich time?” Elena asks, “I have a story about that ring that you would just love.”

“Oh, I’m definitely going to need to hear this.”

“No! Elena, don’t!”

The three of you take your sandwiches and soup into the dining room, and she tells the story anyway.

#malachai parker x reader #kai parker x reader #tvd fanfiction #kai parker fluff

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cryingisnecessaryfanfics · 4 months

Text

PART TWO

Its 2am have more scar headcannons/imagines

Characters: Razor(platonic), Kaeya, Xiao, Tighnari

Sorry these are probs subpar cuz my writing style varies depending on the bpd mood lmao. Bear with the redundancy of these, there are only so many ways to write the same action.

If youre the anon who sent me an ask im replying to your ask with the inverse you talked about. Stay tuned <3 (its probably gonna take another 6 months but welp)

Not spell checked or proof read sorry lol

Razor (platonic)

Wolf boy has a lot of scars as we can all tell. I feel like he probably doesnt get the point of lotion. Probably says it smells bad, like chemicals. His scars are all really improperly healed. Probably has keloid scars (overproduction of scar tissue). The sheer size of the ones on his arms lead me to believe he never got stitches or bandages of any sort, which makes sense considering his story. Regardless, that shit looks painful lmao. (Lighthearted imagine to start us off)

“Razor!” You yell, damn that kid was way faster than you. You nearly trip over a log as you run after him.

“Razor, stop running dammit.” You continue to shout after him, hoping anything you say might just make him slow down. Lord knows you could never catch up to him.

“It's just lotion. It'll make you feel better!” Your lungs start to sting from the chase and your legs drag behind you. You stop to catch your breath and Razor slows down in front of you.

He approaches you slowly like he's afraid you’ll catch him if he gets too close. “Smells bad,” he says and you all but roll your eyes.

“Sometimes things that are good for us smell bad.” You explain. Razor waits for your breathing to even out before he gets within arms reach of you.

“Like soap?” He says and you laugh at the memory of trying to get him to wash himself with soap instead of the occasional dip in the river.

“Yes, like soap.” You sigh and he frowns. Tentatively he holds out his arm, he looks at you expectantly.

“Finally.” You say under your breath and open the bottle of lotion. You can practically feel Razor's eyes watch your hands cautiously. He doesn't move as you spread some against the skin of his arm.

“Cold.” He comments and you huff a little laugh.

“See.” You say when you finish. “Feels better right?”

Razor finally relaxes and smiles at you. “Yes.”

You're just glad he stopped running.

Kaeya

Not gonna go the obvious way and say his eyepatch because I'm different lmao. I think his knuckles are scarred. I think kaeya seems like the type to cope with his feelings through violence. I think kaeya probably hates himself. When everything gets to be too much he just starts coming out swinging. The kind of person who punches a wall without really thinking about it. But yeah I think he used his fists too much when he was younger and now he wears the fingerless gloves to protect/cover the scars. (Sorry if this is weird or seems ooc, it just makes sense to me idk why)

You first see them when he gets the new outfit in sumeru. Everyone around you seems to disregard them, or maybe just not notice. But you can sense the way he subtly hides the scars, the way he walks with a hand behind his back, one covering the other. Its easy to not notice if you arent always watching closely. Maybe the only reason you noticed was because you seemed to always be staring at him. Kaeya catches you looking more than once and in typical kaeya fashion he deflects with flirting or jokes.

Later, when youve returned home to mondstat you ask him about it and he explains after some persistence.

“Its nothing to be shameful of.” You murmur, a hand holding his, looking at the dry scar tissue.

“Its one thing to have scars from braving a battle, a complete other thing to have them from your own stupidity.” He looks away from you and the eye you can see seems far away. Like he’s recalling something from his past.

“But it wasnt stupid, it was a way to cope. How can anyone think of something like that as not brave?” He doesnt answer you, only frowns slightly, a face youve never seen him make. “Do you atleast take care of them?”

He still doesnt respond. You sigh, exasperated, and pull out your endless bag of goods to find a lotion to help with the dryness.

“What are you doing?” He asks, and you all but cringe at the thought of him not knowing you have to moisturize scars.

“I’m helping you.” You half expect him to make a witty comment but the situation proves to be too heavy and he goes back to staying silent. The whole act goes without words, you spread the lotion over his knuckles, rub it in gently. He doesnt say anything until you slide his gloves back on.

“Thank you.” He says and before you can say anything back he adds, “For your actions and your words.”

You press a kiss to one of his gloved hands. “Your welcome.” You thnk you see his cheeks tint the slightest shade of red before hes back to normal again.

“And here I thought I was the romantic.”

Xiao

I always liked the images of the karmic binds/shackles so I like to imagine his wrists are scarred from straining(?) those too much. I mean considering Xiao is an Adeptus physical wounds wouldn't leave a scar so maybe these more mental-type wounds would. Like the more karmic debt he has the worse the scars get in condition, the less debt the more they fade. Maybe the lotion helps soothe the debt more than anything. Maybe the act of something so comforting and intimate with you lessens the pain. Food for thought I guess.

Every morning, at dawn, Xiao enters a room in Wangshu Inn so his lover can put lotion on his scars. This morning is no different.

“Good morning, Xiao.” You say like always, same pretty smile on your face every day.

“Morning,” Xiao mumbles and frowns as if this isn't his favorite part of the day. He avoids your eyes as he takes off his gloves. As many times as youve seen his wrists, he still gets insecure about them. It's no secret Xiao hates being vulnerable, even around his most trusted companion.

“I saw zhongli yesterday.” You say quietly as he sits down on the bed next to you, lotion in hand. “He was with that harbinger.”

“Tch. Useless scum.” Xiao comments and you laugh.

“He seemed happy, Xiao. Try to be tolerant of his friend.” Xiao just rolls his eyes and rests his arm in your hand. You continue to talk about your day as you open the bottle of lotion and start to spread it out against his wrist.

Xiao stays quiet during this, as he always does. You think he must enjoy your voice because he's always been intent on listening to you speak even if he usually prefers silence. He absorbs your words so soaked in affection and the ache in his body seems to lessen. Pain becomes distant, horrible and intense feelings become easier to push away.

It's over before he realizes it, you've put the lotion away simply holding his hand now, savoring the feeling of his skin against yours. He leans against you and you hum in content.

Maybe this is healing for the both of you. Mutual comfort.

Tighnari

I know a lot of people like the idea of him having scars from getting struck by lightning so i'm just gonna play off of that. Lighting very rarely leaves scars but the scars it does leave are burns. The electricity also causes nerve damage so you'd have to be very gentle and careful when handling tighnari’s scars. They're probably on his neck/back so itd take a lot of trust for him to let you see him so vulnerable. He probably already has lotion he puts on himself but its very hard to reach your own back so eventually he asks you for help.

You've seen him put lotion on his scars many times, watched him wince at the pain of it. You refrain from asking him if he wants your help. Tighnari is independent, he doesn't need anyone's help. But maybe itd be less painful if he didn't have to strain his muscles to reach the scars.

He doesn't say much when he asks the first time. Just tells you to be careful. He starts to list the ingredients of the lotion he's made. How he found it, what the weather was like that day.

No matter how gentle you were he’d still pause in the middle of sentences, and with his back to you, you never saw his winces but you knew they were there.

“Okay,” you say when you've finished and you know he's relieved it's over even if it was a more pleasant experience than him doing it himself.

But he thanks you anyway, and he’ll ask you to do it again the next day.

#genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #gender neutral reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #kaeya x reader #razor gi #razor genshin impact #tighnari #tighnari x reader #genshin xiao #genshin kaeya #genshin tighnari

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