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queers-gambit · 8 months

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When The World Seems So Cruel

prompt: ( requested ) Billy knows something's bothering his girl, so, he follows his instincts and checks on her - family, friends, and slutty cheerleaders in bikinis be damned.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.1k+

warnings: cursing, smut 'cause why not, boys being assholes 'cause they're losers, misogyny, toxic / abusive / neglectful family, description of background violence, angst, did Cherry really write it if there wasn't a helluva lot of projection and need for revocation of internet access?

"Miss Cahill? I'm sorry to interrupt," you half-smiled at your math professor, "but I was just wondering if you still had my test? I never got mine back."

"Right," she cleared her throat, glancing around your body to see most of the class empty at that point. "I wanted to talk to you about that," she paused to pull out your test from a manilla folder. "I was very shocked to grade this under your name, honey, you're usually such a well-focused and high-achievin' student, I mean, you're on track for the Nat Scholarship! So, to see this... Was shockin', it's... Not your best work," she winced, handing the packet over.

You blinked in shock, frowning as anxiety mounted in your chest when you saw the glaring F in red marker. You mumbled in embarrassment, "I guess I've just been off my game..."

"Honey," Miss Cahill sighed in her light country accent, leaning on her desk with both fists so your eyes met hers, "I can always tell when one of my students is goin' through somethin' at home."

You froze, shaking your head, "No, no, it's not... It's not so bad."

"What's goin' on?"

You shrugged, "I've just been... Really tired," you decided on excusing, hoping beyond hope it was enough.

It wasn't, of course it wasn't. Miss Cahill just sighed and offered, "I can let you retake the test next week - but only after you go see the guidance counselor."

"Right... Um, yeah, okay, yeah, sounds good; um, thanks, Miss Cahill."

You made an escape, distracted by the third failing test you received this week; nearly barreling straight into a meaty, solid chest. "Woah, hey, no need to run 'round lookin' for the man of your dreams, I'm right here, doll," Billy teased, hands grabbing your upper arms to steady you. "What's got you inna rush, baby? You know I pick you up after this class."

You smiled in brief distraction, "Yeah, sorry, baby, I was just thinking about this essay coming up. Hi," you offered, stretching up on your toes to kiss him in greeting. "How're you?"

He half-smirked, "I'm good, you know Mr. Brunson's got a stick up his ass as usual."

"Mhm. As usual, and totally has nothing to do with you provoking him," you teased, latching onto his waist as you shoved your test deep in your shoulder-bag. You neared his locker, and you managed to choke out, "Hey, um... Y-You wanna get outta here?"

Billy offered you a look of mild confusion, smirking with a strange laugh, "You wanna ditch school?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"I'm just tired," you offered meekly, "I feel like I haven't slept in a week."

Billy lead you up to his locker, hand on your waist to keep you close as he mused, "This feels like a setup."

"It's not, I promise."

He yanked the metal door open, "Uh-huh. You told me when I met you that I'd have to practically kidnap you to get you to skip class. Huh? 'Member all that? All them lectures you gave me 'bout the importance of goin' t'class if I wanna do anything after this shithole?"

"Yeah, but things change, Bee."

Billy's face dropped, shoving his books into his open locker before turning, leaning his shoulder on the locker next to his, arms crossed as he stared at you. "What's wrong?" He questioned sharply.

"Billy, I'm just tired."

"No, it's something else. What's wrong? What's goin' on?"

You sighed, "You know what? It's okay, nevermind, I actually promised Eddie that I'd help him make those banners for SGA during lunch today, so," you glanced around, "I'm gonna go."

"Nah, baby, hol' up, I ain't mean - "

"I know, handsome," you promised softly, nodding as you reached for his waist to give a squeeze and keep him close. "I just forgot I told a friend I'd help them out, so, I'll just see you after, yeah?"

One hand rose to pet over your cheek, sighing, "You sure you're good? You don't look okay, sugar."

"I'm good," you nodded, deflating into his embrace and hearing him chuckle. "I'm just stretched thin this week, probably shouldn't make promises to my delinquent friends with all the college drama to worry about."

"What'd Munson do this time to only get banner-duty? Huh?"

"Probably got caught skipping or something," you mumbled against his pectoral; inhaling the scent of his mall-bought cologne and finding it a refreshing change from the CVS-brand he used when you first met. "School did something right by makin' everyone in detention serve the SGA for all their shit."

"Definitely got me to shape up," he joked, pecking the top of your head before finishing, "but I mostly missed out on time with you."

"Hey... I was thinking, maybe I can come over this weekend? Keep Max company, maybe keep Neil at bay? Can have a sleepover, too, if you want."

Now Billy's head cocked and his expression hardened, "The fuck you wanna come over for? You know how tense shit gets - "

"Billy."

"Nah, you're not makin' sense, pretty girl," he snapped, pulling back to stare down at you. "What's going on with you? You don't wanna be at home or something? The fuck's goin' on that's so bad you'd rather be at my place?"

You felt tongue tied, but the bell rang shrilly and literally saved you from needing to answer. "Shit, I gotta run, baby. I'll find you later, okay?" You promised, lifting onto your toes to kiss him, promising, "I love you."

He frowned, grumbling, "Yeah, love you, too." He watched you vacate the hall, his mind basically going blank to all other thought beside you. The entire lunch period, he sat on the hood of his car, chain smoking, wondering where he went wrong; what he did to upset you; what could be going on and most importantly, why you couldn't say anything to him about it.

However, after lunch, Billy found you in the library's designated SGA room and thought you appeared ten times as relaxed, laughing with Eddie Munson. When the punk caught Billy's eye, he nodded in respect; gesturing for you to look, and your head turned with a smile. You parted from Eddie and trotted up to Billy, feeling relieved when he grabbed you in a possessive hold; searing his lips to yours.

"Hi," you giggled.

"You seem happy."

"Kinda hard to be in a bad mood around Eddie."

"I can see," he lead you away. He wanted to bring back up about whatever was bothering you, but didn't; fearing ruining your joyful mood. Instead, his fingers just tangled with yours and you entered history together.

What should've been a decently peaceful class turned into a state of confusion for you and Billy when the intercom kicked on, the front office asking for your presence with the principal. Billy glared at the speaker box as you cast him a look of doubt, both confused by the summons; being all too used to them calling his name instead. All of history passed miserably; Billy alone without his favorite person to keep him on track and becoming antsy the longer you were gone. When you didn't return by the end of class, he grabbed anything you left and begrudgingly went to the last two classes of the day.

When the final bell rang, Billy waited for you at his car for a solid 25 minutes with several cigarettes being burned, but when you still didn't show, he grew worried. So, he stored everything in his Camaro, not needing to worry about his sister because Max got a ride home with her new bestie, Jane, and her father, Jim Hopper, and stormed through the school. Anger radiated off his very being, nearly stomping his steps, and just before he got to the front lobby, he saw you exiting the office.

You didn't notice him at first, and for a moment, Billy thought you were going to hurl whatever was on your stomach as you held a few pieces of paper in shaking hands. "Baby," he called your attention, finding your eyes light up at the sight of him. "The hell's goin' on? You were gone the rest of the day, I got worried."

"Yeah, it was some shit wrong with my college applications, but we got it straightened out," you lied, stepping into his embrace. "I'm sorry I worried you, handsome."

He met your lips in a kiss, promising, "Not your fault. C'mon, day's over, our weekend can start once we get the hell outta here."

"Hmm," you hummed dreamily. "Lemme go to my locker and we can get gone."

Billy didn't mind waiting, and when you were done at your locker, he escorted you to his car; only a few students still lingering after hours. He opened your passenger door, winking at you, then quickly jogged to his side and slid in. "C'mere," he breathed, reaching for your cheek instantly; hand sliding along the back of your neck and bringing you in close.

You moaned when Billy's lips molded to yours; all but instantly salivating when his tongue tangled with your own in a messy dance. You had a few rules about PDA, especially in school; but being in his car was neural territory and Billy needed a way to expel his neediness. Praising God for making today steadily warm and that you wore a skirt, you were ready to cry when Billy's hand came down to grip the meat of your thigh.

"Billy," you rushed when his hand traveled under your skirt to ghost over your panties.

"Nobody's here t'watch," he smirked. "C'mon, lemme do this for you, pretty girl. You don't wanna go home yet, right? Ain't got some curfew?"

"Nope," you surged forward to slam your lips to his, moaning when his hand now confidently pet your panties as your legs spread all the wider to encourage him.

"Good girl," he praised quickly, skimming the apex of your thigh to hook your panties and pull them to the side. "Mhm," he hummed with a cocky smirk, "I knew you liked getting fucked in public. Feel how fuckin' wet you are - shit, Goddamn."

You mewled; tension mounting as you tightened up from the stoking pleasure. "Billy - " You gasped when he plunged his fingers into your cunt, easily sliding in due to your arousal. "Ohhh, fuck," you breathed, eyes shut and mouth agape in pleasure, "needed this - needed this so bad. Just needed you."

"You'll get so much more, baby."

You whimpered, "Now, please. Please, please, please."

He smirked, "Wanna get in the back or ride me, princess? Huh? Tell me what you need."

Your eyes locked with his as you thought it over, but then, you smirked as you readjust the passenger seat and turned so your ass was propped up. It gave him a full view of your messy cunt; panties askew from his previous motions and fluid rubbed all around. Billy reached out with one hand to plunge his pointer and middle finger back into your core, the other wrangling open his belt, button, and jean zipper in frantic movements.

He shimmied from the garments and sat up, following your lead in adjusting his seat. He instantly mounted behind you over the center console, licking his palm and stroking his himself to life as he drug his cockhead up and down your wetness.

Billy reached out to move your panties once more, line himself up, and plunge full-hilt. You gasped and grunted, letting yourself be shoved forward a little to catch on the seat; Billy hissing between his teeth as your warmth enveloped him in a sticky-wetness. "Hang on, doll, ah, fuck, there we go," he chuckled, readjusting his position before starting to move his hips to create the most delicious friction.

"Fuuuuck, Billy!" You whined when he held both your hips with only one hand keeping your panties to the side.

"Needed this, too," he chuckled. "Good girl, fuckin' taking me so well. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you? Fuck you however I want to, huh? Yeah," he lifted one hand to smack the meat of your bottom, creating a ripple; liking the way you twitched and delivered two more, finishing, "I know my pretty baby would let me do whatever I fucking wanted with her - " he clenched his teeth, hips punctuating his words, "'cause she was fuckin' made for me."

"Yes," you moaned, mind blank from all the previous drama of your day; ready to weep like a bitch in heat, "anything, baby, yes, yes, yes, anything you want."

"Good girl," he laughed ruefully; picking up the pace to fuck you outta your mind as he ensured you felt every throbbing vein of his engorged cock. He chased his own orgasm as you were charged with your own; hand reaching for your clit to start applying pressure in tight circles. "Let me cum in you, sweetheart. C'mon, baby, tell me I can cum in you - in this pretty pussy - in my pretty pussy - lemme fuckin' cum in you."

"Billy, fuck - yes, baby, yes! Yes, harder, please, fuck me harder and you can cum wherever you want."

"Even your ass?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes, anything you want! Fuck my ass full of your cum, please, fuck, I need it! Whatever you want, I need. Please!"

Billy's golden curls stuck to his forehead and neck, entire car rocking with frantic, animalistic movements - but anyone lingering around the school to see it wasn't surprised. Billy felt like he went faster than usual, that he got a little rougher; but he was nearing his end and it was hard to keep pace. When you cried out and legs shook from your flash-bang of an orgasm, he knew you had finished and could focus on his own; never pulling out.

He'd fuck your ass later.

"Fuck!" Billy came with a shout; shooting hot, salty, opaque white ropes of cum into your quivering cunt. He stuttered his hips into the meat of your ass, balls contracting; emptying himself inside you as you relished in the feeling of his warmth flooding your lower belly. He chuckled, mocking, "Might just have to get you off that pill so I can get you fucking pregnant already."

"Whatever Daddy wants."

Billy laughed as he pulled out of you slowly, instantly turning again to crash into his driver seat. You went a little limp but managed to turn over, both panting as the windows were fogged up; but aired out when Billy rolled two down to light up his cigarette. "So," he spoke through his inhale and deep breaths, "you wanna tell me whats wrong now?"

"Hmm?"

"Why're you so distracted? Distant? Even with me?"

You felt panicked by the confrontation, resorting to your last line of defense. "Just dealing with a lot," you answered as your legs spread as wide as you could to start toying with your beaten-pussy. He watched with a stoic expression as you used your fingers to stuff his dripping-cum back inside you. "'S been stressful, guess I just had a bad day," you whined lightly, still playing.

"Fuck's sake."

"Hmm?" You feigned innocence.

"You're just askin' for it, huh?"

"Maybe," you pouted, "or maybe I just need your cum - "

"Cut it out, we gotta go," he snickered, turning the key in the ignition. "Your dad hates me enough, can't have you late for family dinner."

You went quiet as your thoughts were plagued with a screaming voice that begged Billy to just read your mind and understand what was wrong - why you were so upset, so panicked. But you knew better. So, you flipped down your skirt and readjusted yourself, sucking your fingers of his cum before letting his hand tangle with one of yours on your lap.

"Maybe you'd wanna come over tonight?" You asked softly. "Go see a movie or something?"

"You never wanna go out on Friday nights," he chuckled, but something felt terribly wrong about the notion. "You do homework and study on Friday and Sunday nights, you said it was a relationship rule, huh?"

"Things can change," you pouted.

"I told Tommy and Ryan I'd hang with them and the guys tonight," Billy spoke slowly. "But I can cancel if you - "

"No, no, don't," you shook your head, "go see your friends. 'Cause I'll see you in the morning, right?"

"Right."

"And I can stay the night... Right?"

Billy nodded, "Anytime you want, baby, yeah."

"Okay, cool," you spoke softly, deflating in his seat when he pulled up to your house. "Um..." You stared up at the home as if it were haunted. "Do you wanna come in for a little?"

His head tilted and brows furrowed, "I have to pick up Max from Hopper's, remember?"

"Right!" You gaped, but didn't move.

"What's wrong?" He asked with a hardened tone, making you gulp lightly. "You don't wanna go in?"

"I could, like, just go with you?"

"Baby, the fuck's going on? Know I hate repeating myself and shit, so just fucking tell me - maybe I can fucking help."

"Nothing, no, it's just, it's nothing, I'm sorry, I just - I'm sorry," you chuckled. "Guess I'm PMSing and feel clingy or something."

He only hummed as you leaned over to kiss him in parting. Both promised you love each other before you got out, jogging up the driveway and opening the front door; pausing to wave at him and then disappear in the house.

"Yo, dickhead! Hey! Grab me a beer!" Tommy Hagan called to Ryan Sheen as he went to rummage in his uncle's basement fridge. "And grab Billy one, too!"

"Nah, I'm good," Billy refused, glancing at the can in his hand. It was still half-full. He didn't feel like drinking after having time to sit and think about your behavior the past few days, worrying about you more than he wanted to get drunk.

"What?" Tommy laughed obnoxiously, smacking his teeth after. "You don't want a second? What's wrong with you, got some test you gotta study for?" He laughed at his own joke. In Tommy H.'s mind, only fucking losers study on Friday nights.

"Nah," Billy eased, setting his can down as he felt his irritation flare. He was annoyed at Tommy, sure, but also by the idea that something was wrong with you and you didn't trust him enough to say anything. "I actually gotta go, you guys," Billy stood.

"What?" Now Ryan scoffed, slapping a can of beer to Tommy's open hand. "You're not serious, dude! We've only been here, fuckin' what? Half an hour, bro!" He sucked his teeth in annoyance, rolling his eyes, "C'mon, we were going to Alicia's pool party tonight - you're supposed to give us a ride! The fuck's more important than the slutty cheerleaders in bikinis?"

"That Maria chick's been all over you, too," Tommy laughed. "You can't tell us a single thing that's better than Maria Thomas, all soaped up, in that tiny bikini she wore for the car wash. It's all our wet dreams come to life, Billy, you can't seriously consider missing that!"

"Not everybody's desperate to see Maria's tit-job. You know what? Whatever, man, I gotta go see my girl," he tugged his jean jacket on, tugging his blonde curls out of the collar.

Ryan rolled his eyes as Tommy laughed, "No way. Nuh-uh. You're seriously going to fuckin' ditchin' us for that chick?"

"Man, fuck you, guys, I'm ditching your dumbasses for my girl," Billy snapped. "Better what your fucking mouths and how you talk about her."

"Whatever, man. You're just whipped."

"She got you on some leash or some shit? Got you on a curfew like she's your mommy?" Ryan rolled his eyes, groaning, "Seriously, dude, we only see you at practice now!"

"Look, I just know something's up with her, so, I gotta check on - "

"So, what!? She ain't even tell you why she's pissed off? C'mon, man, that is such a stupid fuckin' tactic chicks use to get guys to go crawling back to their spoiled asses! Bitches do the pettiest shit to get us to suck up to them and shit."

Billy turned and easily caught Tommy by the collar of his shirt before he could even let go of his beer can, slamming the loudmouth into the wall as the aluminum can clattered. Ryan and the two other irrelevant guys left in the basement could only freeze, knowing Billy Hargrove's aggression and not wanting to become part of the receiving end.

"I told you to watch your fucking mouth," Billy seethed.

"Fuck offuva me!" Ryan pushed Billy's arms off. "She's just some bitch, bro, you've already fucked most of the school - what's so different with her?"

Billy scoffed, nodding in amusement as he backed off a few steps. "You know? If I wanna go hang with my girl instead of you deadbeat dickheads, 's exactly what I'm gonna do. Not my fault y'all ain't shit and don't know what it means to keep a chick happy."

"Fuck off, Billy! You're so fucking pussy whipped!" Tommy barked. "Ditching us for that crybaby! Dude, it's not even real! She didn't even tell you whatever she's all upset about! You just had a feeling, so, just sit the fuck down, finish your drink, down a fuckin' second beer, and then let's go to the party! See some bitches that are actually worth seeing!"

Billy shook his head, "I ever hear y'all talkin' about my girl like this again," he chuckled dryly, "might be the last time y'all can even form words. Fuck yourselves," he sneered.

Billy didn't hesitate to storm out of the room, ignoring their jeers and sneers about him being "pussy whipped" and all their complaints about him skipping out on being their ride to "the hottest party of the year." The door slammed behind him, rattling a few windows; making a beeline for his Camaro and pausing at the trunk. He found a pair of your sports shoes you'd eventually need, grabbed them in a white-knuckle grip, then got in the driver's seat and peeled away.

When Billy got to your house, he noticed the lights in your bedroom were barely turned on; knowing you didn't like overhead lighting and probably had a string of lights plugged in. On the contrary, the rest of the house seemed wide awake - every single downstairs light turned on. He grabbed your shoes and his school books (left in his backseat) and got out of his parked car, approach the front door, and paused when a barrage of voices suddenly met his ears. He froze.

The screams were full of hate, and while he couldn't make out distinct words, he heard both your mother and father's elevated voices. It was relentless, it was full of anger and hate and confusion and accusations and Billy wasn't sure how long he stood there with his fist raised. With a deep breath, Billy finally knocked at the door... Then again... Then again... And again, using the metal knocker to bang rapidly. He heard the voices lower and stopped knocking; taking a step back, then waited with his best look of indifferent innocence.

When the door ripped open, Billy was greeted by your angry-looking mother, who didn't look at who was at the door when she snarled, "What the fuck do you want!?"

"Uh, yeah, um, hi, ma'am..." Billy waved awkwardly.

"Oh, Billy," she gasped. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you, sweetie. What's wrong? What - What time - ? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry to interrupt so late, but nothing is wrong," he assured. "I just know your daughter's a little forgetful when there's a test comin' up," he chuckled, holding up the shoes and his books, "and she promised to help me nail this essay for my college portfolio... Did I use that correctly? Portfolio? She's always tryna broaden my vocabulary," he chuckled smoothly.

She smiled warmly, another victim to his charming influence, "Sure, honey, yes, of course, it's Friday or something, right, of course you can come in. C'mon, c'mon in." She stepped out the way to let Billy enter into the foyer. "Baby Girl's just upstairs in her room," she gestured with a wine glass Billy just noticed towards the staircase as she used your childhood nickname. They paused at the grand bannister, her eyes rolling when there came the muffled pounding of a bass-line from some song turned up to the max. "She's always blasting her music now adays, it'll make her deaf," your mother scoffed, taking a long sip, then waved him up. "Go on, get up there, good luck on your essay."

"Thank you, Miss Lady," he purred with a small smirk; nodding as he then watched her retreat to the sitting room, and barely a moment later, your father was exiting the kitchen.

"Billy," he greeted stiffly, glass of scotch in hand.

"Sir," Billy replied with a nod of respect, stepping out of his shoes (per household rules) to leave your parents at the front of the house's sitting room; beginning his ascent to the second level. He'd been there before, so, locating your room was like muscle memory; knocking when he approached the door and pausing when he only heard blaring music.

Another knock, no answer. So Billy opened your door.

You were sat on the ground, back against your bed, record player spinning, and the window you faced cracked open to waft the cigarette smoke out. His heart clenched when he saw you, your sadness nearly tangible as light made your tear-tracks on your cheeks glitter. "Baby," Billy spoke softly, watching you jump in shock. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I tried to knock."

You nodded absently, "Music's on."

"Yeah, 's a good song," he allotted as he shut your door securely and asked, "want it locked?"

"Doesn't lock," you answered robotically, looking back out the window.

"Can I turn the music down, baby, please? Real hard t'hear you."

You nodded and he lowered the volume - but when he did, he understood why you had it so high. Your parents could be heard arguing downstairs, and even with an entire floor between you, it was still loud. So, he turned the music up just a little, frowned, and moved beside you, grunting lightly as his tight jeans constricted while he sat.

"Can I?" He asked, pointing at the cigarette. You handed it over mutely, your usual quip of "it's may I, not can I," nowhere to be heard. After two puffs, he meant to hand it back, but instead, you just fell into his side as if all energy you had to keep you up was depleted; a nearly drowned-out whimper emitting. Billy saw the coffee mug you had been using as an ashtray and dropped the cigarette instantly, using both arms to tug you into his lap.

Billy held you in a fetal position, gently and slowly squeezing you into his chest as he needed to feel you close; and you evidently needed to feel physical love. Billy had to gulp harshly when he felt your tears soak his shirt first, then the jerking of your shoulders; quivering of your body. This long week had finally caught up.

"Baby," he sighed, kissing your forehead. And instead of asking the idiotic and repetitive 'are you okay?', Billy instead just asked in a hush, "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

Through your tears, you answered in a hiccuping-hush, "I didn't want it to be real."

Billy just sighed again, pulling you in tighter so you set under his chin. He let you simply rest, he just wanted to feel close to you... But something caught his eye. About three feet from you was your slumped, turned-over backpack; spewing contents as if it had been tossed aside in a fit of rage. What was interesting, though, was the crumpled pieces of paper; at least one sporting a huge, uppercase F circled in red marker.

"Yeah?" He whispered, sighing as he wanted to bite his tongue but couldn't. "Seems real enough to fuck up your grades though, huh?"

"I can retake the tests."

"You're gonna have to study."

"I know... 'S kinda hard to study here, though. Can't really focus on anything when all that's, you know, going on."

"No shit, Sherlock."

You snorted through your tears, "Don't make me laugh, I'm sad."

He smirked, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Listen, I'll just... We'll go to the library for tonight, and after, we can go to my place. How's that?"

"Thought you weren't allowed overnight visitors?"

"I'm not, but sneakin' inna my place can't be worse than tryna focus while here, right? Gotta be better than listening to this shit."

You nodded against his neck as a distant glass shattered, making you relent, "Touché."

"C'mon," he decided, kissing your forehead again, "pack a bag, baby. You're comin' with me - don't gotta stay here. Not tonight. Gonna come stay with me."

You pulled back just enough to ask, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, pretty girl," he smirked, caressing your cheek. "Might even let you do that green face goop thing you love bothering me about."

"It's an avocado face mask, and when your skin is literally glowing, you can thank me then."

Billy grinned down at you, taking the moment to swoop down and connect your lips in a long kiss; breathing each other in. When a second shatter sounded from downstairs, you flinched away, but Billy was quick to hush, "Hey, hey, hey," and when your eyes met his, he assured, "you're safe with me. Always safe with me." You nodded, tears shining in your eyes. "And you don't ever have to hide these parts of you - not from me. Never from me. I love you, pretty girl," he whispered, "and all parts that make you exactly who you are. Family included."

"I don't deserve you," you whispered.

"Nah, what you don't deserve is dealing with this shit. So, c'mon, get a bag together. We'll come back for what you need later, but get something together for the weekend."

You thanked him with a kiss, and while you got your things together, Billy mutely reached out to examine the pages in his grasp. He sighed, noting the three different failing tests and knew he had to "step up" his "boyfriend game" if he truly wanted to help you; and for the first time, he knew, without any selfish motives, he honestly did. He figured, for all you've done for him, providing you with something akin to a safe environment was a drop in the bucket; shoving those tests back into your school bag, standing, and helping you gather the last of your necessities.

Who needed slutty cheerleaders in soaped-up bikinis when this, right here, was what true love was? Shockingly, not Billy Hargrove.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things #stranger things billy #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove one shot #dacre montgomery

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sparkbeast20 · 1 year

Text

The Simp Mug

MC: So I got this mug

You show the mug with the writing said "I simp for you" on it

MC: Whoever gave this. Thank you. I'm fluttered that someone actually simping for me.

The brothers: ...

Later that day

The Demon Brothers (New) (7)

Mammon: Which one of you fuckers gave that mug to MC!

Belphegor: Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing Asshole!

Leviathan: This is so unfair! I thought we all agree that we doing it subtly!

Leviathan: But NOOO!! One of you had to ruin it for everyone.

Asmodeus: Right!? Now MC would try and find out who's their secret simp!

Asmodeus: Personally I prefer being called Lover then Simp.

Leviathan: Simp: when a male is overly submissive to someone and gains nothing from it.

Beelzebub: Really? But we gain love from MC in different ways right?

Belphegor: Truth. I like Beel's definition more then Levi's

Leviathan: Hey! I'm telling you what the definition is!!!

Satan: Strange.

Satan: Lucifer hasn't said anything this whole chat.

Lucifer: And you haven't?

Satan: We all know that you treat MC differently.

Lucifer: The pot calling the kettle black.

Satan: Fuck you!

Mammon: Dumbasses! Focus!

Meanwhile

Outsiders (4)

Simeon: It seem I made a mistake.

Simeon: So, Solomon and I were browsing Akuzon for a joke gift for Luke.

Simeon: But before long, the discussion move from Luke to MC. At that moment I saw this mug with a funny saying,

Simeon: Then Solomon explain what "Simp" means. But I didn't realize that I accidently sent that mug to MC as a gift.

Diavolo: Oh.

Barbatos: How did you manage to send such a gift?

Solomon: In our defense, we were both drunk at the time, and we all know how bad Simeon is with Technology.

Simeon: Did you have to added that Last part?

Solomon: Yes.

#obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me mc #obey me chat fic

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crimsonji · 1 year

Text

୨୧ don’t forget to eat!

" reader accidentally skips their meals, how would their boyfriend react? "

ft. kazuha, heizou, cyno, tighnari, SCARAMOUCHE! x gn!reader (seperate)

cw: mentions of not eating (eat 2 meals a day stay healthy!!!), fluff, wanderer is a little bitch man (i still love him though), not proofread

>> 🍁 kazuha’s musings: inspired by me forgetting to eat/being too lazy to do so lol. also i thought it'd be fun to write for scaramouche! idk if i should refer to him as wanderer in my works since that's the 'present day' version of him now i suppose? if ppl like seeing me write for wanderer i'll add him to my main four

✦ Kaedehara Kazuha

Your health is more important than anything to Kazuha, even when he's far from you, his home, he'll spend late nights looking up at the stars and wishing you're doing well.

The first time he notices this bad habit of yours is whenever he offers you lunch or a small snack, or how when he asks what you've eaten that day, the only response you can give him is a sheepish smile and a scratch of the neck.

On the rare weeks when he is with you, Kazuha takes it upon himself to cook all of your meals. Not like he wouldn't cook for you outside of this reason, but it gave him more incentive to make his dishes extra delicious. Are you picky about certain foods? Kazuha won't add it. Don't enjoy fish? Don't worry, he'll use more vegetables instead. Oh, you like spicy food? Good thing he picked up some spices from his trip to Sumeru.

When you brush him off and say whatever you're working on is seemingly more important than eating, he'll walk up to you from where you're sitting on your desk, wrap your arms around you, and whisper ever-so sweetly into your ear in a way that makes your knees weak.

"Love, it's not healthy to skip meals. Join me for dinner, please?"

Definitely the type of guy to spoon-feed you. When you do get a taste of the food he made, Kazuha smiles whole-heartedly at the way your eyes light up while your tastebuds soak up the flavours. Kazuha mostly admires you enjoying the food more than actually eating.

If you're not eating because you're too engrossed in your work, Kazuha basically forces you to take a break. He's still soft-spoken about it, but firm with you, offering a massage if the stress is getting to your muscles.

"A clear mind leads to better work ethic, how about some tea, darling?"

Brings you a cup of green tea and snacks every few hours when you're busy!!! It feels so domestic, too, Kazuha bringing his lips to your cheek and offering a few words of encouragement before leaving you be.

He'll give you some quick and easy recipes he learned before he leaves to make sure you don't skip your meals again. Besides, Kazuha would be greatly saddened if you continued this habit, please don't make him worry and eat healthy for both of your sakes...

✦ Shikanoin Heizou

Pretty much noticed it right away. He's a detective, after all, and you're his dear partner, it's only right for him to take note of every little detail about you. His job is very important to him, which means he tries to take care of his well-being to be the best he can during work, which includes sneaking off to get a quick bite to eat whenever he can...

Heizou would rope you into these sneaky outings, somehow able to find you wherever you are and invite you to a quick lunch date. And you know how Heizou's specialty dish description mentions that whoever eats it wants to tell the truth? Yeah, he basically does that to you.

"Hmm, you've been skipping your meals, haven't you? Tsk, I can't have my dear partner be doing that, can I?"

He'll lightly chide you about it in a playful tone, yet you're still confused he managed to get it spot-on. He laughs it off when you point it out, just telling you that you mean a lot to him, so he should keep a close eye on your health. (He's so casual about it, but you can still feel how genuine he's being and it makes your chest feel tight)

Heizou can't really say anything about eating healthy... He eats fried food for almost every lunch break. But he thinks that as long as you're eating something at a reasonable time, he'll be satisfied. Heizou will make it a point to take you out for lunch, and even if you're busy he'll just point out the rumbling of your stomach.

"You're not gonna feel good if you don't eat. No worries, it's my treat--now, let's go, my dear partner!"

He really likes taking you out on picnics during your breaks, bringing a small array of street snacks and relaxing with you under a pink sakura tree while admiring the scenery--which to Heizou, is you.

✦ Cyno

Sadly, Cyno is busy and on most days is unable to see you. However, when he does have the time, the first thing he does is to go and see you. He invites you for lunch, and you make an off-handed comment that you haven't had much to eat that day in a lighthearted tone. However, Cyno seemed much more concerned than amused.

"Have you not been eating properly?"

Is what he asks you, amber eyes narrowed with an unwavering gaze directed at you. The vague answer you give doesn't lower his worries, either--it's almost like he's interrogating you, but you can see the concern written all over his face. When you do tell him the truth, he only silently stares at you before sighing to himself.

"Order whatever you like, it's on me."

Most of the time he'll already be off somewhere dealing with his matra duties, but on your desk, you'll see a snack neatly placed on it with a note beside it...

"I'm coming home earlier than usual, I'll make us dinner. Eat this to tie you over. Love, Cyno"

He can't be there all the time to remind you to eat, so he likes leaving notes around your shared home, or sneaking one in your bag in the early mornings before he leaves. You're very thankful that you live with Cyno, both because you can spend at least a bit more time with him and because if he wasn't there, you'd probably forget to eat more often than not.

Obviously, Cyno will sneak in a joke somehow. His jokes always seem to put a smile on your face, even if it's a pitiful one, and he has a joke that seems almost perfect for this situation... One day Cyno had happened to see you around Port Ormos, and he looked almost giddy when he caught your attention. It's actually quite common for you to run into each other like this, Cyno never failing to send you off with a quick kiss.

He offers you a Candied Ajilenakh Nut, and I think you can see where this is going...

"Here, have a Candied Ajilenakh Nut... and I'll ca-shew later... Ah, no, I don't have to leave right now. Did you not get it? So basically--"

He'll ask you if you've eaten that day, and when you say yes he'll give you the cutest look, Cyno's eyes much more softer with the smallest smile on his face. He'll walk up to you and gently pat your head like you're a pet cat, ruffling up your hair in an act of contentment.

As mentioned, he'll try to cook dinner for you. Cyno doesn't think he's the best cook, and he's only perfected a few dishes. He'll give you something that's both nutritious and filling, and Cyno almost looks nervous when he watches you take the first bite, muscles relaxing once he sees you hum in enjoyment.

Don't try to avoid not eating under Cyno's watch, he doesn't care if you supposedly have work to do, your health is more important than some measly pieces of paper.

"I made you dinner."

"Oh, just save my plate! I'm not that hungry--"

Cue Cyno glaring at you

"I-I'll be at the dinner table..."

Cyno smiling "Good."

✦ Tighnari

You should have already expected to receive a long lecture for your bad habit, nothing misses Tighnari's keen ears and eyes. Sure, you were getting a lot of work done, but Tighnari noticed your energy was more easily drained than usual. When he questions you, his ears point downwards and armed crossed unimpressed when you awkwardly admit you haven't made any time to eat.

Cue a twenty-minute lecture on the importance of a nutritious diet and needing food to keep you energized, and how Tighnari's worried that you've been doing this for a while now without his knowledge.

Doesn't matter what you were doing at that moment, he immediately says you two are taking a lunch break and takes you to a quiet part of the forest with freshly made pita pockets in his hand.

He comes off as a little bit curt, but it's just because he's worried. Tighnari gets out of his lecturing mentality once you bite down on the pita pocket, and even though he still has the urge to delve into another lecture; he stops himself and lets you enjoy your food.

"You lummox, don't just skip meals like that. Here, take half of my pita pocket, I insist!"

The next few weeks is the same question from Tighnari: "Have you eaten yet?" He gives you small candies or nutritious plant-based snacks throughout the day, chiding you on actually eating them instead of just storing them away in a bag.

He almost acts like a worried mother towards you; it's a habit of his, Tighnari always looking out for others and especially you. If he's a bit busy that day, he'll ask Collei to drop off some pita pockets for you. They're both very sweet, Collei cheerily encourages you to eat at least two meals a day.

You can see Tighnari's tail swish slightly when he sees you're a bit more energized, indicating that you actually ate something! You feel a bit bad for Tighnari kind of babying you like this, but he really doesn't mind at all. A part of him actually kind of likes giving you snacks or making food for you, it's like an act of service to show his care for you.

"I'm assuming you're getting kind of tired of eating pita pockets for lunch every day, huh? Don't worry, I made something different today."

✦ Wanderer

"...What do you mean you haven't eaten?"

He acts more annoyed than anything when you tell him, eye twitching when you claim that you just "didn't feel hungry." You're just a fragile human, and humans require food to process into energy--why didn't you want to eat?

His annoyance with you is just a mean mask for his real concern. What if you just stopped eating and slowly started getting weaker? No, he can't let that happen. You may be a fragile human, but to the wanderer, you're his fragile human, and he'll be damned if you decide to skip meals.

He'll make an off-handed and snide remark that "Fine, if you wanna starve so badly then I won't stop you." and he'll curtly tell you that the human body requires too much maintenance--even though he's a mechanical puppet.

Please ignore how mean he may sound, Wanderer just doesn't know how to show his genuine care for you--he abandoned Kunikuzushi many years ago. But, if he's Wanderer now, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to act more outwardly... caring, he guesses.

Once his ears hear the low grumble of your stomach, he narrows his eyes at you. What's even stranger to him is that you still insist that you don't need to eat, humans are so odd. He scoffs, walking off to who knows where.

"Stay there, I'll get some firewood."

Soon enough he comes back, quickly setting up a small fire and preparing ingredients without a word. He doesn't miss the way you're staring at him almost in awe, trying to focus on the pot filled with rice quietly bubbling.

"Why do you look so surprised? ...of course I can cook, why couldn't I?"

Much to your surprise, the ochazuke he presents to you looks extremely appetizing--at least you thought so, maybe it's because you were really hungry. You gingerly took a bite, the light flavours of the green tea complimenting well with the plainness of the rice. When you look up to meet eyes with Wanderer, he's grinning slyly knowing you like the dish.

"Hmm, and you looked so reluctant for me to cook. What, did you think I was gonna poison it or something? Idiot, it's not like I wanna kill you, I would have done that when I still had the gnosis."

"Don't think I'm gonna do this for you every time you forget to eat, I'm not a babysitter."

"...What are you gawking at? Go wash the dishes."

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allysunny · 3 months

Note

Hello!! Can i request a 14 + 19 + n for Miguel? remember to take care of yourself as always :)) , luv from anon! 🎀

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me” + “I’ve got you” + Pregnancy x Miguel O’Hara

Words: 4.1k words

Warnings: Beach day! Fluff, pregnancy, mentions of body image issues, mention of suggestive themes, some light angst (if you squint, really), soft Miguel, he's an incredible husband <3 If I missed anything, let me know, I'm terrible at tagging! Not proofread - oops!

A/N: Hey everyone!!! I'm back!!! Wow, I could post two works this week? Insane!!! Well, it was a real blast writing this. I mean it, I got it ready in like, a day or two. That's just how much fun I had with this little drabble! It was just so cute, and I'm a sucker for soft Miguel. I missed writing for him!!!

Once again, I ask your patience. I promise I haven't given up on writing, I'm just really, really busy hahaha.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! I certainly did <3

“These are so good…” you mumbled, biting into the treat in your hand.

Miguel, standing next to you, winced and his face contorted in a slight expression of disgust. “Cream cheese with anchovies?” he asked, “Yes, mi vida. I’m sure it’s delicious.”

You kept on biting at your sandwich, a content smile on your lips.

“How’d you know this is exactly what I’d want right now?” you asked, mouth stuffed. Miguel winced again. You knew it bothered him when people spoke with their mouth full, and yet he said nothing, simply happy to watch his loving wife indulge in her (honestly appalling) sandwich.

“Call it a lucky guess. All of your cravings so far have been disgusting, I thought I might as well mix whatever we had left on the fridge, and you’d enjoy it.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Seriously? Were you and your cravings that predictable that he could just mix whatever two ingredients there were in your fridge? But as soon as you gave it some more thought, the notion made you laugh. Perhaps it didn’t mean you were predictable, only that your husband knew you that well.

You ran a hand on top of your pregnant belly, giving it a few pats before returning to your sandwich.

“Thank you. Our baby seems to be enjoying it as well,” you tell him with a soft smile.

Miguel returns it and bends down to press a soft kiss on top of your stomach. “Well, that makes me happy.”

You two sat there. You, enjoying your ridiculous sandwich, Miguel enjoying your company. He’d been meaning to take you on a small beach day for a while now, but his work kept getting in a way. After a few tweaks in his schedule (courtesy of Lyla), and a few missions handled by other people (Jessica and Peter B. had been kind enough to catch those anomalies by themselves), he’d managed to snag you away on a sunny Saturday morning.

You had everything you could possibly need. Lots (and lots) of food, an insane amount of sunscreen (that Miguel insisted on applying on your skin every 20 minutes), a few books to keep you entertained (even though you’re only spending the day, and not a whole week), lots of refreshments, and four beach umbrellas for you to sit under (that occupied far too much space, something you’d stressed a lot at home. But it’s not like Miguel listened).

“Everything alright, mi vida?” He asked you.

You nodded and wiggled your feet, relishing on the feeling of the soft sand against them. “As alright as it was five minutes ago, Miggy. I promise I’m fine. There’s no need to worry about me.”

He only sighed in response and shook his head.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Can I get you anything? Would you like something from the beach bar? Fresh juice? Any other beverage? An ice cream?” Miguel looked positively adorable when he worried. Ever since you told him you were pregnant, he started treating you as if you were made of glass, and as soon as you started showing, he went actually crazy.

His wife can’t lift a box – can’t bend down and possibly hurt the baby. He’ll do all of the heavy lifting. In fact, he’ll do all of the lifting.

She can’t do the dishes – spending far too long on her feet can tire her out, and he couldn’t have that. He’ll wash everything and get a dishwasher for the days he worked late.

She can’t possibly cook dinner – what if something goes wrong and she gets upset? Stress is not good for the baby. No, let Miguel do all the cooking.

She can’t clean either – let him handle it.

The point was, Miguel was an extremely protective man. He loved you more than anything. And now you were carrying the world’s most precious cargo: his son.

So why wouldn’t he treat you with the utmost care?

“Miguel, I told you, I’m fine.” You sighed, finishing your sandwich. Before you could say something, Miguel had handed you two napkins and a bottle of fresh orange juice. You took the napkins, cleaned your mouth, and he quickly grabbed a bottle of water, presenting both to you.

“Water? Juice? Which do you prefer, my love?” he asked.

You just shook your head. It was pointless to say anything. Better to simply enjoy it.

“Juice is fine.” You took the bottle and brought it to your lips, which earned a slight groan from him. Safe to say, your pregnancy had just made Miguel even more enamoured with you and your body. The accentuated curves, the softness and plushness of your skin, all for Miguel to grasp and tug and pull. Your tender breasts that had grown, and he’d already spent hours twisting and helping relieve some of your pain and soreness, your calves that often needed to be massaged – your body had always been a treasure to Miguel, but now that his child was growing inside of it, he was going to do everything in his power to love it more and more.

You looked at him; this look of his was easy to recognise. Crimson eyes low and darkened with desire, tracing every swirl of your tongue over your lips. You blushed furiously. It was flattering to know Miguel wanted you, and even more so to know both his love and lust had only increased with your pregnancy.

“Like what you see, Mister?” you asked, tilting your head, and playing coy.

Miguel loved it when you did that. It did things to him whenever you played hard to get, whenever you pretended not to know the effect you had on him.

“Very much. Te ves bien bonita,” he hummed, dipping his head low to place a kiss on your jaw. You sighed, and he took it as a sign to kiss you further, trailing down your neck.

You were just about to run your fingers through his hair when you remembered where the hell you were.

“M-Miguel!” you breathed out, slowly pulling him away from your body. “Please – we’re in public.”

“No me importa. Que vean.”

“No – Miguel, no.” You giggled and pushed him off you, earning an annoyed huff from him.

“We’re at the beach. We’re not going to give these people a show.”

“Oh, but who told you I don’t want to?” Miguel asked, raising a brow, “I’d like to show all of those idiots staring who the hell you belong to.” His voice was low and raspy, and you felt heat pool in your lower stomach. You shook your head, trying to get these nasty thoughts out of your head. This was supposed to be a nice, innocent beach date! Not fantasizing about your incredibly handsome husband.

“Well,” you spoke, “Too bad. You’re not doing anything.”

Miguel grumbled and got up, shaking his head.

“Always the same. Always ‘We’re in public Miggy!” or, ‘Don’t do that, people are watching Miguel”, or even ‘You can’t fuck me in front all of these people Miguel’!”

Your cheeks heat up and you blushed furiously, embarrassment spreading through your whole body. Your husband wasn’t talking in a particularly low tone, and people had started to look at him. More specifically, women, smirking towards him and licking their lips viciously. Your stomach was about to curl when Miguel spoke his next words, making you forget all about other people.

“One of these days I’ll take you in front of all of them, I’m telling you. Show them you’re mine.”

“Miguel!”

“What?” He turned to look at you, and you could see that stupid smirk of his plastered all over his face. It was no secret that Miguel loved to see you flustered like this.

“Don’t say that out loud, oh my god!”

“Why? It’s not like I’m lying here.” Before you could protest further, Miguel offered you a cheeky smile and nodded his head towards the water. “I’m gonna go for a dive. Do you want to come?”

You shook your head. “No, that’s fine.” It was enough for Miguel to tense up, but you were quick to reply. “It’s fine – I’ll be fine, Miguel, don’t worry. I’ll just stay here under the shade.” You tried offering him a reassuring smile. After all, you weren’t a child, and could take care of yourself just fine.

Miguel eyed you for a while, before sighing.

“Fine,” he said, “But if you need anything – “

“I’ll let you know. Don’t worry.”

“And I won’t be long. I promise. I just need to freshen up.”

“Miguel,” you said his name softly, “It’s fine. I promise I’ll be fine.”

He nodded and ran towards the water. You watched him as he looked around and the water tickled his feet.

You then looked around, taking the scenery in. It was a lovely sunny day. There were no clouds in the sky, and nothing but a small breeze could be felt brushing your hair. It was the perfect beach day, and you were so glad Miguel had taken today off to be with you. You missed him when he was gone, and although you knew what he did was extremely important (after all, your husband was Spider-Man), it was only natural to long for him when he was away. Especially with these pesky pregnancy hormones.

You returned your gaze to him, and that’s when you saw her.

A woman, eyeing Miguel up and down, shamelessly.

You raised an eyebrow. For the looks of it, it seemed as if she had been looking at him for a while. It was clear she was looking him up and down, and you felt a nasty feeling forming on your stomach, something green and envious and nasty.

The woman approached him, and your eyes lingered on her, on her perfect silhouette. Her legs were long and lean, her stomach toned, and her bikini sure did wonders showing off her boobs. Along with the jealousy you felt clawing at your skin, came another feeling, that instead of making you angry, just made you sad.

Miguel had seemed to notice her, because he turned to face her and the two started to talk. She was all smiles and giggles, tilting her head slightly and – was she actually swaying her hips? You huffed. Miguel was no stranger to flirtation. Women shot their shots with him all the time. Well, tried to. He was always quick to shut them down, mentioning his lovely wife, who happened to now be carrying his baby.

You knew him to be faithful. You knew he loved you and only you. You knew he would never hurt you or cheat on you or cause you any distress.

So why was it that you felt so unworthy of him when you two were out?

You looked at the woman again.

She was gorgeous, with perfect skin, flawless hair, and a great fucking body.

And here you were, sitting down on a chair you could barely get out of, eating a sandwich you were sure was positively disgusting to everyone else, feeling big and fat and ugly and simply not enough for him. The thought nearly brought you two tears. Miguel always assured you of how much he loved you, of how much he adored you and found you the most beautiful woman in the world.

And yet you couldn’t help but wipe away one or two tears that spilled across your cheeks, dark thoughts clouding your mind. You were surrounded by beautiful women, all of them reminding you of how much less you felt, with their perfect bodies and normal stomachs that did not weigh a ton because of the baby growing inside of them, with long legs that elegantly strutted instead of awkwardly waddling from one room to the other. Would Miguel be better off with any of these women? Would they look better on his arm, on his bed, on his life?

It was simply too much. You grabbed your nearby dress and placed it on top of your belly, hiding it. Then, you moved to grab your book, trying to focus on your reading. It was nearly impossible, and when Miguel returned after a while, you did your best not to look at him.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”

You refused to meet his eye.

“Mhm. Just peachy.”

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Then why are you covering yourself?”

“Just protecting the baby from the heat,” you mumbled. What a terrible excuse.

Miguel hummed before you. He bent down and grabbed his towel, shaking the sand from it (away from you, of course), before setting it down on the spot next to yours, and laying on it. Now that he was up close, you could see every freckle on his body, every muscle, every droplet that fell down his arms, his legs, his back. He was as charming as ever.

And you had never felt more inadequate. Unconsciously, you brought your dress closer, hiding your chest too.

"¿Seguro que estás bien, mi vida?" Miguel asked again, looking up at you. Why the hell were you covering your body? Were you cold? It was rather warm outside, that couldn’t be it. Did you feel sick?

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Miguel followed your eyes. They landed on the woman that had tried to strike up a conversation with him earlier.

And then everything fell into place.

The way you were hiding your body from him, the way you looked somewhere else so that you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze, how sheepishly you were acting.

And it genuinely upset Miguel. Because how could you ever think that you weren’t the most gorgeous woman out there? That your body wasn’t worthy of worship and adoration and idolisation? His fingers slowly crept up next to you, and he softly pulled the dress away from your body, exposing your belly, your thighs, your legs, your beautiful skin and being.

“Miguel, gimme that back,” you mumbled, trying to take the dress back from him. He pulled back his arm and the dress was immediately out of your reach. You huffed, hugging your hands around your body, as if you could hide it from him. You couldn’t. And Miguel was heartbroken that you thought you had to.

“Tell me what’s wrong, mami.” He said, hand caressing your thigh. He’d have to coax the insecurity out of you.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just cold – “

“It’s so hot, we could almost fry an egg on that cute belly of yours.” Miguel said. He wasn’t afraid to talk about your body, especially not after you’d gotten pregnant. You’d felt insecure once or twice, but he had always reassured you of how beautiful you were, and how radiant you looked, even with that big pregnant belly of yours. And for the past few months, you’d been doing amazing, feeling confident about your body, and loving your new figure and everything it meant for your future alongside Miguel. But perhaps the beach had taken some of that confidence away.

You sighed and looked away. Unfortunately for you, Miguel reached out with his hand and turned your face towards his. Nowhere to hide.

“Vale. Suelta la sopa,” he spoke.

There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to look to aside from those gorgeous chocolate-crimson eyes of his. You trusted Miguel, you really did. So why were you having such a hard time saying this? Perhaps you didn’t want him to feel like he didn’t love you enough. You knew he loved you. You knew he found you attractive. What if you thought you were being dramatic? What if he thought you were too high maintenance, still feeling insecure even though all he did was reassure you of his love? It’s not like you can help your feelings.

“I don’t want to bother you Miggy,” you replied, voice soft. “It’s fine.”

“You’ll never bother me. You know that, right? Now, come on. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You bit your bottom lip, and then nodded.

“It’s just… I just feel so…” You scrambled for words.

“Take your time,” Miguel said to reassure you.

“I feel so unworthy.”

“Unworthy? How so, mi alma?”

“I’m not – my body is not – I’ve changed, Miguel. My body has changed so much. I don’t look like them – “ you nudged your head towards the water, where the gorgeous woman had been moments ago. “And I never will. And look at you – you’re so handsome. You’ve always been. And next to you, I feel… I feel inadequate. I don’t feel beautiful enough for you… And I know what you’re gonna say. That I am, and that you love me, and that you love this child. And so do I. More than anything. But sometimes, I just feel… I feel like you’d look better with someone like that on your arm.”

Miguel listened attentively to each word you said. Just as he figured out, you were feeling down because of your appearance.

“Honey,” he started, letting go of your chin. “You are right. I will say that you look beautiful, and that you’ll always look beautiful to me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker.

“Uh-uh – let me finish. As I was saying, you are beautiful. And I love you. Sure, your body has changed, but it has changed because you’re carrying our baby. You’re carrying a child. Mi vida, do you know how miraculous that is?” His voice was laced with nothing but adoration, and so were his eyes. “You’re carrying a life inside of you. You’re going to bring a life into this world. That is such a beautiful thing. Your body has simply stretched to accommodate our little one. And that is such a lovely thing. It’s a miracle, mi vida. You’re a miracle.”

Your eyes quickly filled with tears, and Miguel cupped your face with both of his hands.

“I couldn’t care less about other women. Whatever they have, whatever they might offer, it will never compare to what you offer me every day. To the love you so selflessly give me every single day, to the greatest gift you’re about to give me. A child. You’re going to bring my child into the world. You say you feel inadequate next to me – Mierda, I feel inadequate next to you. You have chosen me to be the father of your child, and you’re doing all of this to carry it and bring it to the world safely. And all I can do is watch. I can’t take away your pain, I can’t take away your discomfort. I’m the lucky one. I mean – hell, you could’ve had any guy in the world, but you chose me. You chose this awkward, nerdy, standoffish man who couldn’t even tell you he loved you the first time he kissed you because he was so bad dealing with his own feelings.”

You giggled as you recalled the memory, and your heart warmed. Miguel laughed along with you. He’d come very far with you. He was a man of logic, of reason, never letting emotions cloud his judgement. Which made everything infinitely harder when he met you – you, who broke down his walls and made it impossible to think and be reasonable. He’d come so far, and it was all thanks to you.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Miguel continued. “This child is the greatest thing that could ever happen to us. I know that I can’t take away your insecurities just like this. And it kills me that you can’t see yourself the way I do. But please, please believe me when I tell you that you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my life. The kindest, smartest. The most miraculous of them all, carrying a child all by yourself.”

Tears ran down your cheeks, and you sobbed softly. Miguel scooted closer to you, and with his help, you got up from your chair and sat down on his lap. His arms were instantly all over you, one of them bringing you close, the other trailing patterns on top of your stomach.

“I just… I feel so ugly sometimes… And then we came to the beach, and it was supposed to be a lovely day just between the two of us, but then I saw that woman, and she looked gorgeous, and I’ll never be her…” You said in between sobs.

Miguel caressed your head and dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“You forgot the most important part.”

You looked up, confusion in your features.

“She will never be you.”

Your eyes widened softly, and you parted your lips.

“She will never be the woman I love. She will never be the woman who puts up with me every day, even when I’m cranky and grouchy. She will never be the woman who wakes me up with kisses in the morning because she wants me to start my day in the best way possible. She’ll never be the woman who packs my lunch and writes sweet notes. She will never be the woman who loves me unconditionally despite my many, many flaws. She will never be you. Never.”

You smiled through your tears and the invisible rope that tugged at Miguel’s heart loosened its hold. You were smiling. Thank God.

“She’ll never be me?” You repeated.

“No one will ever be you.” He replied, closing the gap between your faces, and taking your lips in his. You kissed him softly, cupping his jaw with your hand and trailing your fingers through his head with the other. When you pulled away for air, there were tears in your eyes once again.

“I’m sorry for being like this… Sometimes, the hormones, they just…”

Miguel quickly cut you off.

“You don’t need to apologize. I will never get tired of saying how much I love you, of telling you how much you mean to me. It’s okay to not be fine. Isn’t that what you tell me?”

You nodded with a small smile.

“Then I’m telling it to you too. It’s okay to feel like this. And I know I can’t understand the depth of your feelings. I can’t know for sure what you’re going through. But I’ll always be by your side. I’ll always be right here to help you. I love you, honey. I really do. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

If someone were to tell you a few years ago that Miguel would be capable of saying these sorts of things, you’d have scoffed and told them to fuck off. When you met him, Miguel didn’t do feelings. He never opened up, never spoke about himself or his emotions. But then you came along and taught him how to feel, how to love. You taught him it was okay to be vulnerable, to be taken care of, to be loved. You loved him all the more for it, your scary, mean, giant of a man who turned into putty whenever his eyes landed on you.

“I love you. Thank you so much for this. I mean it.” You said, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like the beach, like the soft breeze and the warm sun. You placed a kiss there and smiled as soon as the salt of the water hit your tongue.

“I’ve told you, mi vida. I’ve got you.” He said, still tracing patterns on your skin. “I’ll always be here for you. I love you.”

You two remained like this, in each other’s arms for a while.

You didn’t feel the need to get up or go for a swim. Not yet.

For now, all you wanted was to stay in your husband’s arms, feel his heartbeat against yours, sink further into his touch. You looked up and took in the scenery around you. The shining sun, the clear blue sky, the sparkly water. You watched as young couples smiled at each other, groups of friends played around, and families ran after their children. Someday, it’d be you and Miguel, along with your little one.

You realised you didn’t feel insecure anymore. Miguel was right. It was a miraculous thing, to be carrying such a precious thing inside of you. Your child. Miguel’s child. The product of the love and devotion you held for each other. You couldn’t be ashamed of that, could you?

You knew this would be an uphill battle. Your insecurities couldn’t be erased simply overnight. But with Miguel’s arms wrapped tightly around you, you realised that as long as you had him to remind you of all the beautiful things you and this body meant, and how much you two loved each other, it would be okay.

You would be okay.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble.

Have a wonderful day ahead, everyone!!! <3

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #astv x reader #atsv x you #across the spiderver fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse x you

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nostalgebraist · 2 months

Text

the light, and the glass

So there's this particular quality I have, as a fiction writer, and I have very little sense of how common or rare it is.

The quality is closely related to that famous Michaelangelo quip, about his sculptures being "already complete within the marble block":

The sculpture is already complete within the marble block, before I start my work. It is already there, I just have to chisel away the superfluous material.

This is how I feel, too, about my works of fiction. They feel like "real things" that "already exist," in some important sense, before I write them down -- or, indeed, before I even fully know what they contain.

So, for instance, if I haven't yet thought of an ending for a story I'm playing with in my mind, I nonetheless have a vivid sense that this particular story has an ending, and that this ending already is whatever it happens to be. It's only that I haven't managed to "see" it yet.

To clarify the point, consider the contrast between this thing, and two relatively familiar ways of thinking about how fiction gets made:

Conscious, goal-directed craft/artifice. Intending to write a Satisfying Plot in which each character has an Arc, the Story Beats follow logically from one another and are arranged with what is called Good Pacing, the proverbial Cat is Saved, etc., and "solving for" these desiderata in a conscious manner. Or, intending to create something much more outré and unsettling than all that -- but having some specific set of (outre, unsettling) intentions in mind, at the outset, and concocting/arranging the elements of your work in a conscious way guided by these intentions.

Free-wheeling, self-expressive "creativity." Just do whatever, man! Follow your bliss. The canvas is blank and anything is possible. Whatever you feel like putting into that empty space, go ahead and put it there. (The key thing being that, after "putting something there," you'll look and recognize something with origins in you, and your own whims and feelings at a particular moment.)

For me, though, the process of writing, and even of "ideating" (plotting, etc.), feels like a kind of transcription or channeling, as opposed to either of the above.

When I say "channeling," here, I don't mean that I have some actual, mystical belief in a supernatural object revealing itself through me. Not in the woo-woo sense anyway; whatever is really going on here, I am sure it "merely" involves the mechanics of the human mind, as implemented in the physical human brain and body.

But I do mean that it feels a lot like that. Like the story -- and not just the story part of the stories, but the whole thing, the "art object" -- has some real prior existence outside of me, first.

Like I am merely doing my best to "get it right," to be a perfect transmitter for the radio signal. To "do justice" to the "real thing," in the secondary act of writing words onto a page.

To be a courier who transports a valuable object from some originary otherworld into a place which happens to be called "existence" -- and to ensure, as much as possible, that it suffers no disfiguring scrapes during the journey.

----

I should say, though, that there's a lot of the "#1" above in my process too, the conscious-artifice thing.

Except... when I do that kind of thing, the intentions all come from the "real object," and my goal is to fill in whatever I can't see of that object so that everything I can see is preserved.

So: I will come to know, surely and indefeasibly, that the story must have some particular feature. (An event, a little moment, a character feeling a certain way at a certain time, even a specific turn of phrase.) Better to say: I know the story does have this feature. I see it in the marble.

But I can't see everything that's there, already, in the marble. And sometimes these glimpses-from-the-beyond are strange, inconvenient, difficult to "fit" into the current story (or perhaps into any story) in a natural-seeming manner.

And that's my task, when I'm doing the conscious-artifice thing: to take this collection of axiomatically-present glimpses, and build a structure around them into which they can "fit," naturally and even logically, just as if they were ordinary story-building-blocks like their neighbors, being placed here and there for ordinary story-reasons.

----

This has various implications. For one, it determines which kinds of writerly anxieties I suffer from, and which types leave me alone.

Like, I have virtually no self-doubt about my "ideas." About the overall, large-scale goodness-or-badness of the thing I'm creating. At least, not when considered "in principle," in an idealized sense that abstracts away from my actual capabilities as a guy who puts words on pages.

"Was this story, as a whole, a good idea?" is a question I find difficult to ask myself. Even when applied to smaller units, like specific plot points, this kind of question simply goes nowhere when I attempt to think about it. Insofar as my mind can cough up any answer, that answer looks like:

Yes

(after a moment, with mounting bewilderment) Yes, obviously -- how strange even to ask!

(after another moment, and as an afterthought) ...but if it weren't any good, is that really my business? It's not like I came up with it. I was asked to keep it safe and bring it into reality, and I take that duty seriously, but once it has reached its destination I wipe my hands of the matter. Don't shoot the messenger!

It's not, just, that I feel like the "real thing" "already exists." I also feel, always, that the real thing is... really good.

I deeply, thoroughly trust the Muse / Higher Power responsible for originally "making" this stuff. (To speak in relatively woo-woo terms, for ease and clarity.)

The Muse / Higher Power is a seriously skilled artist, much more so than little-old-me; if She makes any errors at all, they are not really mistakes, but "are volitional and are the portals of discovery."

And what's more, there is a sacred, unearthly gleam to the artifacts She makes, perhaps having something to do with that Fairyland, that place-other-than-"existence," in which they are originally made.

It feels like an honor to be designated as a courier for these enchanted things. Perhaps not a deserved honor -- on which more below -- but it's never the nature and value of the transported goods that I doubt.

(There is a definite sense of ritual to the thing that I do, here; a sense of connecting with some other place, definitively apart from our mundane here-and-now, and likewise more important/primary/etc. than the latter. Hence, perhaps, my tendency to not-write for long stretches, and then write in long sustained bursts for many hours at a time, which need a good deal of preliminary building-up-steam before they fully get going; it takes time to pierce, and then fully cross, the veil between worlds. And the various imprints of this stuff on the works themselves are not hard to see, once you're looking for them; they are of course especially transparent in TNC.)

All that being said, I do suffer persistently from a different anxiety.

When Michaelangelo said the thing about the sculpture "already complete within the marble block," he said it as... Michaelangelo.

As a famous, incontrovertibly masterful craftsman. Not a guy likely to suffer from doubts about his ability to put the chisel to the marble block, and reveal precisely that shape which was already there, inside.

But I'm not Michaelangelo. I'm not even sure I'm a good craftsman, much less a great one.

Certainly I've never conceived of myself in this way, even aspirationally. (Well, maybe I did in childhood and adolescence, but that was a very different thing from what I'm talking about now.)

I don't do what a person would do, if they wanted to be a Writer, and strove to be the best one they could. I don't, for the most part, practice my craft. I write because there's a Real Thing that only I can see, and it's not going to make into Existence any other way.

And since I don't write by habit or as practice -- since I only write at times when a Real Thing is in need of some incarnating-work, and I'm the only one around to do it -- I'm not exactly an ideal candidate for the job.

I am like a man who never especially wanted to be a sculptor, never practiced the trade, and was never more-than-ordinarily good with his hands, even... who is then, suddenly, struck with a very literal version of the experience Michaelangelo described.

Who, suddenly and inexplicably, begins to actually see a sculptural masterpiece lurking inside, whenever he looks at a faceless marble block.

What is our protagonist to do? Naturally, he will find a chisel, and begin chipping away. He will feel that these things need to be freed from their prisons, released and revealed to all the world, so that all the world can delight in them as he already does.

But he will be very aware of the unfamiliar way the chisel sits in his hand; of the way that hand trembles, and fails to meet the mark, and sometimes shaves off precious bits of what was really and originally a beautifully formed hand -- so that the hand, in the realized artwork, forever bears some oddity of shape which was not a part of what he saw inside the block, but only a consequence of his own shameful incompetence.

He will feel that his works, such as they are, are an odd mixture of amateurish craft and direct, divine inspiration. Insofar as he is Great, it will be because he has had Greatness thrust upon him, from without. He will feel, sometimes, that his successes have been obtained through a kind of cheating, not won fair-and-square.

And he will feel, always, a particular kind of (justified) impostor syndrome: an awareness that what he is doing, when he sits down before the marble block with the chisel in hand, is a very different sort of thing than what is usually called "sculpting," and what is being practiced by careful, hard-working aspirants just down the road, at the local workshop. The students there call themselves "sculptors," and our protagonist supposes he must call himself a "sculptor" too -- but he knows that behind this coincidence of language, a vast and strange chasm is hidden.

(I worry that this metaphor sounds flattering to me -- I am divinely inspired, they are merely toiling away and following the rules -- when I don't mean it that way at all.

In particular, note that there is nothing in our story to rule out some of the "real" sculptors down the road from also being visionaries who see the finished work in the block. Indeed, I got the metaphor from Michaelangelo, who was precisely this way.

I am only saying that all the conceivable configurations of craft/inspiration are in fact possible: just as it is possible to be skilled but uninspired, it's possible for inspiration to strike someone who lacks the capacity to fully realize its content. And that is how I feel, about my own attempts to create.)

----

When I was getting near the end of Almost Nowhere, and struggling with this kind of feeling, Esther would often reassure me by saying: "you are the light, and you are the glass it shines through."

In other words: you are a transmitter, and you are the source of the transmitted signal. Remember that in actual fact, the "real thing in the marble" came from your own little brain, just as much as the rest of it did. In actual fact, if there is a Muse and a Higher Power, it is really just an additional part of the same creature that holds the chisel, and worries over its trembling hand.

I did, indeed, find this very reassuring. And that's a funny thought, in a way! I imagine that for some people -- and indeed for me, in many other endeavours -- the same sentiment could easily have the opposite effect.

"It's all on you. It's all your responsibility. If any of it is bad, there's no one else to blame. If there is any 'Higher Power' at all, it is only the one inside you at all times, and not able to save you through unexpected intervention, from some true outside."

But I already believed, thoroughly, in the magical potency of the goods I was charged with transporting. If I was (somehow!) their maker, too, then (somehow!) the root of that glimpsed, alien magic was in me.

And so, perhaps, I could trust myself to ferry them into Existence without ruining, without even much dimming, the fairy-gleam from elsewhere that made them what they were.

#blah blah blah

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lis-likes-fics · 4 months

Text

Bells, Bells, Bells

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader, Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson Word Count: 3k words Prompt: Double penetration Warnings: NSFW, swearing, threesome, double penetration, fingering, lots of lube, anal, use of anal plug, use of safe word, pnp, p in v, p in a, aftercare, they're all pathetic actually... A/N: I was working on a completely different fic and then got completely stuck so I started writing this instead and, well this got done a lot quicker so... Anyway, this is basically just porn with no plot bc plot would've taken a bit. Hope you enjoy. Also A/N: This is also my first time writing anal so...bear with me, guys.

You whimper when the bed dips next to you, your arms trembling as they hold you up underneath you. There are goosebumps all over your body plaguing your skin and making it hard to pretend like you're chill about all of this.

Steve, sitting in front of you, just raises a hand to your cheek and smiles reassuringly as his thumb grazes your skin. You lean into his hand and shut your eyes.

Behind you, Eddie chuckles lightly and inoffensively. “Relax, sweetheart. I haven't even touched you yet.” Then his hand sets gently on the bare skin of your ass and smooths there. “Get closer to Stevie. He'll help you.”

On hands and knees, you take a couple steps more toward him until your hands are planted on either side of his crossed legs. Your head rests momentarily on his shoulder before he pulls you back to lay a long kiss on your lips. You lean in some more, humming lightly against his lips.

“Good girl. There ya go,” Eddie whispers. “Just breathe for me, baby, and relax. Or it's not gonna be easy. Got me?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“You remember the safe words?” he asks, his tone still calming and guiding but holding just as much gravity.

You nod. “Bells means I'm good. Puppet means slow down. Whiskey to stop.”

“Good girl,” Steve says this time, petting your head and kissing your forehead.

Eddie sets his hands on your butt, smoothing his palms over the skin before spreading your cheeks apart. “‘Kay, just relax, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers.

You flinch when you feel him squeeze out some of the same cold, wet lube from before over the pretty blue plug still nestled between your cheeks.

You'd never done anything like this before. A couple hours before, you told Steve and Eddie that you wanted to try something new. They always had to take turns when you got intimate, one in front and one in back. But you wanted to see what it would be like to take them both at once.

So they pulled out their—thoroughly cleansed—plug and worked with you for a while to get you ready to put it in. It was a tight squeeze, but they were both so encouraging through the whole process of stretching you out enough to comfortably take it. It's been a couple hours since they put it in, to get you nice and ready for them, and now they had to take it out.

So here you are, hands and knees with Steve holding your face and Eddie spreading a generous amount of lube over the plug and your puckered hole.

“‘Kay, I'm gonna pull it out. Need you to push a little for me, sweets. Okay? It's gonna be kinda weird, but you'll be fine.” Eddie says.

You nod, “‘Kay.” Doing just as he says, you push a little as he grabs a hold of the handle of the plug and begins to, very slowly, pull it out.

Distracting you, Steve captures your lips with his own and muffles your stiff moan. As you stretch around the apex of the plug, you hold your breath as he manages to pull the rest of it out. All of you sigh as it finally comes out.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods, pulling away from your lips. “She's good. Just not used to it. Right, baby?” he asks gently. You hum in agreement.

“Where are you at?” Eddie asks.

“Bells.”

He sighs gently, reassured. “Okay, good. You look good. You'll be loose enough for me now.”

You all agreed that it would be better for Eddie to take the back: Steve was thicker than him, and it would have been too much of a stretch—especially for the first time. He didn't mind.

You nod, returning Steve's smile as he strokes your cheeks. Your legs tremble slightly, the anticipation eating away at you as you breathe gently.

Eddie's hands stroke your cheeks, bending over your body to kiss the back of your neck. “Like I said before,” he speaks gently, “it's gonna feel kinda weird and a little uncomfortable at first, but you'll get used to it. From there…it's heaven, baby.”

You chuckle lightly. “You'd know all about that, huh?” you tease, glancing at Steve mischievously. He laughs with you, looking at Eddie behind you with a smug look.

Eddie snorts. “Please, you know Steve's a bigger bottom than me.”

You laugh again. “You're both bottoms. Even with me sometimes.”

He shrugs, amused and happy that you're happy. Lightly smacking your ass, he shakes his head. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Breathing in, you let out a long sigh and nod. “I'm ready.”

Eddie spreads another generous amount of lube over his cock, pumping himself a couple times before lining up with you. “Here goes nothing,” he mumbles.

Steve takes your face and pulls you in for another kiss. You grunt against his lips as you feel the head of Eddie's cock pushing against your hole, then pushing past to go deeper and deeper, slowly seating inside of you bit by bit as his hands hold you tightly by your hips.

The feeling is foreign, pushing deeper into you as you distract yourself with the feeling of Steve's tongue smoothing over your bottom lip.

But then, Eddie's hips meet your behind and the tension snaps.

Your lips slip off of Steve’s as you melt against him, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean into his chest on a long sigh. Steve chuckles lightly. “There ya go,” he hums, glancing up at Eddie, whose face is just as blissfully fazed as your own.

Eddie starts pulling out, still slow as he allows you to get used to the feeling before he’s pushing back in again after his long thrust. Pushing all the way back in, another sigh breaches your lips as the tiniest moan slips from you. Your limbs feel like jelly, and it’s so strange to you as you lay there with no strength in your body to sit back up, perfectly content to just lay against Steve.

“How are we doing?” Eddie questions, his voice strained as his own pleasure begins to tickle at his throat.

It takes a moment as you take a choppy breath in. “Bells,” you whimper in a slurred tone.

“Good girl,” he nods. He does that for a while, keeping it steady as the both of you get used to each other. Steve watches, his hardening cock almost painful as the two of you enjoy the other. Your moans start to grow as Eddie continues steadily rocking in and out of you.

After a moment, still stroking your cheek, Steve whispers to you. “You think you’re ready for me yet?”

Glancing up at him, you nod. The word slips out in the middle of a moan, “Bells.”

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head as his hand eases underneath you and slips between your thighs, his fingers teasing your folds, “You’re such a good girl.”

Normally, you’d thank him, but your lips are so slack from the pleasure that it’s hard to form the words. His thick fingers sink into you, pushing your lower lips apart in order to massage your tight pussy.”Jesus,” he mumbles under your breath. You’re so wet for him already, your arousal mixed with the lube has made you slick and slippery and perfect for him.

Steve lays back so he’s underneath you, his hands on your waist and his cock laying against his belly. He strokes himself in his hand a couple times before lining up with you. “You ready?” he asks, his voice gentle against your ears.

You nod. “Bells.”

He licks his bottom lip as he chuckles lightly. Eddie slows to a stop behind you, nodding at Steve before he’s pushing inside of you. A long groan slips from both your chests as Steve sheaths himself inside. The stretch, although stinging at first, is delightful as you rest your head on his chest.

You nod quickly, “Bells, bells.”

Steve begins his own slow rhythm at your consent, Eddie joining along as the two of you start a steady pace. You squeeze your eyes shut as your jaw hangs wide open. A curse falls from your lips, and you can’t help but to clench your fists in the pillow behind Steve’s head.

It feels so good. Much better than you thought it would. While you lay there, blissed out, the boys just keep stroking in and out of you with the pleasure building within themselves.Their rhythm builds, picking up a bit as they begin to chase the pleasure. You’re so tight, even tighter now with both of them stuffed inside of you like this. And you feel so full. You wonder briefly how you could’ve gone this long without feeling so full.

The drags of their cocks thrusting in and out of you is addictive, and you can hardly think past the feeling of them as the air you keep gasping for dries out your throat.

It’s when Eddie’s steady rhythm starts to build a little more than you’re ready for that your moans start to become whinier. You grip the sheets tight, burying your face in Steve’s neck as you try to calm yourself down before you freak out at the rougher pace Eddie’s adopted. It’s warm now, and you can feel it getting hotter and hotter.

Eddie grips your waist tight, rocking your hips slightly to meet his thrusts. You’ve just been squeezing around him so well, he needed to feel more of you as he felt himself building up, up, up–

“Mm-fuck. Eddie, puppets—puppets!”

As soon as the word falls from your lips, he eases up on you until his quickened thrusts have become slower, tempered thrusts in and out of you, his loud breath adjusted to fit the pace as well. “Sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says quickly, bending down so his chest presses to your back, his lips caressing the back of your neck. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s own eyes have shot open as he slows to a complete stop, his hand coming back to your cheek to ease you down. “It’s okay, baby,” he whispers to you as you lean into him some more. Then, looking at Eddie, he nods gently to reassure him, “You’re okay. She’s good. We’re good.”

You feel fuzzy, both their gentleness seeping into your bones and soothing your skin until your scorched nerves are merely little tingles throughout your body. You nod slowly, coming down from your slight panic as you focus on the gentler rock of Eddie’s hips.

“Are you good?” Eddie whispers into your ear, one of his hands stroking your sides to help soothe you some more. “Are you okay? Do you need me to stop? If you want me to stop, we’ll stop. Talk to me, sweetheart.” He kisses your shoulder.

You shake your head, sighing gently and leaning back up against him. “I’m okay,” you whisper back. “Don’t stop, I’m good.”

You all take a moment, with your eyes closed and your breath steadying, with both their eyes on you and their breaths still to listen to yours. The tension eases from your brow, and your lips part to let out a gentle puff of air as the heat transforms back into bliss.

Steve’s hand strokes the side of your neck. “D’you want me to move, baby?”

You nod. “Yes, please.”

So Steve begins again, easing into you. Slow and steady, steady and slow. You ease into the pleasure again, focusing on both of them and the shaking in your limbs from the euphoria venturing your system.

Another moment passes, and you nod again. “Bells,” you sigh. “Both of you.”

And they comply, bringing their paces back up to a quicker but just as gentle movement. And as the moment eases, you’ve all returned to heaven. You squeeze around them both, unable to help yourself as you let your body succumb to the pleasure.

You moan as you lave lazy kisses along Steve’s collarbone. He wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you securely around him so you have no choice but to lean all of your weight on top of him. He welcomes in, finding comfort in the feeling of it.

Eddie keeps rocking into you with the same pace as Steve, careful not to lose himself again and hurt you. He’d die before he ever hurt you on purpose. Your moans mix with their own, hot and heavy and full of the same lust for the others.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Feels so good.”

Steve nods, tangling one of his hands in the hair at the back of your scalp as he holds you there, careful not to hurt you in any way. “Yeah? You like it?”

You nod lazily. “Mm-hm.”

He huffs at the way you flutter around him. “You wanna cum for us, babygirl?”

You nod again, quicker this time. “Please.”

One of Eddie’s hands lets you go in favor of finding your little clit, pulsing against his finger as he presses against it. You keen into his touch, your eyelids fluttering and your moan sigh turning into a whimpering moan. You curse again.

Steve’s eye clench shut and he leans his head back against the pillow. His pink lips part to let out a harsh sigh as he nods. “Just like that, Eddie. She’s fucking squeezin’ me.”

Eddie grunts, thrusting his hips forward and lingering deep within you for a moment. “Fuckin’ tell me about it.”

The pleasure sparks in your limbs, in your belly, behind your eyes as you moan into Steve’s neck. He leans his head forward to bury his face in the crook of your own neck, inhaling your scent and letting it cloud his brain.

A string of curses falls from your lips as the pleasure rises within you. It rises and rises and rises until you can’t hold it anymore. The tension snaps, crashing down on you like a tidal wave as you fall apart, closing your eyes and clenching every muscle in your body. You moan, loud, helpless, blinded by the euphoria that fills your body. Your thighs tremble and you flutter around them as you push them closer to their own releases.

Eddie’s the next to go, pulling out of you quickly as he takes his cock in his hands and pumps himself, fast and rough as his lips part. A loud moan spills from his lips as his cum spills on your back, groaning your name and a few “fuck, fuck, fuck”s. He throws his head back and announces his pleasure to the ceiling.

And, like clockwork, Steve follows, pulling all the way out and shouting his praise. “F-f-fuck, I love you.” His hips cant into you, seeking out the squeeze of your pussy when met with the cold of the air. He chokes when Eddie’s hand grips his cock and strokes, coating his palm in the rest of Steve’s cum.

As the pleasure wanes and the crashing waves become gentle laps on the shore, you fall limp atop Steve’s chest. You rest your head on him and let out a long sigh, your eyes lidded and your mind mush. You couldn’t be more satisfied.

Catching his breath, Eddie’s large hands smooth against your ass and up your sides, feeling you and kneading your flesh to work out any kinks you may have acquired.

And he’s the one to clean you up as he nearly limps to the tiny bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean the three of you up with. He takes extra care of wiping his sticky release from your back, bending down and kissing your shoulder as he does.

And, once you’re clean, he collapses on the bed next to you and Steve, throwing his arms lazily over your back and burying his face in his pillow. You don’t think he can breathe.

Steve’s hand strokes your back in slow, gentle circles as his other works through Eddie’s tangled hair. Both of you are jelly against him, weak and honestly pathetic.

“Fuck,” you manage to whisper, though your vocal chords fight you and your brain complains at the unnecessary sound.

Eddie hums, lifting his head to tilt to the side so he can finally breathe. Steve, still stroking you, smiles and says, “You think that’s something you wanna do again?”

“Are you kidding?” you huff, your words heavy and slurred in your mouth. “We can never do it any other way again.”

He chuckles, the sound echoing in his chest and rumbling against you. Eddie joins him, lifting an arm to lay his hand in your hair, massaging your scalp with the very tips of his fingers. Your eyes flutter closed, unable to fight the relaxation it pulls from you. You’re limp and pliant, and he’s content in watching the softness in your face.

Steve sighs before tapping your side lightly. “Okay. My turn,” he says, easing you off of him as he sits up. Your eyes follow him lazily, your brows pulled together in question. He can’t possibly think you have the energy for another go… He can’t possibly have the energy for another go.

Eddie turns onto his back, just as confused. “Your turn for what?” he asks, almost daring him to suggest another round.

Instead, Steve rounds the bed and pulls the covers from under both your bodies. He bends down quickly and kisses both your lips, even as you continue to give him your questioning looks. Getting back in, he lays down and rests his head on Eddie’s chest, letting out a loud and long sigh as he relaxes against him, closing his eyes.

You giggle, taking the other side as you nestle into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He laughs, trying to keep it light as he tangles his fingers in Steve’s hair and massages his scalp gently. You see him go limp, the tension leaving his body as he almost immediately falls asleep, as though Eddie had shut him off.

You stroke Steve’s cheek with your thumb, as he had done to you. Eddie’s hand strokes your side. Just like that, you feel the pull of sleep beginning to take you as well. You can barely hold your eyes open as you’re mumbling a tiny “love you” to Eddie and an unconscious Steve.

Eddie smiles, kissing your forehead. “Love you, too.”

Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog Eddie the Banished taglist: @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom Steve the Babysitter taglist: @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @param8re @anotherblackreader @woahhajime Tag yourself here...

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moon-rivr · 9 months

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eres mía

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

warnings: arranged marriage, unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 u tap it), oral (f and m receiving), miguel calling you a slut (affectionately LOL), and just overall smut

author’s note: hi :) so this is my first time writing smut/fanfic, so it’s probably not that good lol 🫣 but anyways hope you enjoy. i got this idea from listening to ‘eres mía’ by romeo santos, i’ll leave it down below if you wanna listen 🫡

word count: 2372

"Por favor no te cases con él!" [please don't get married to him!]

—

A voice you haven't heard in three months, four days, and nine hours (not that you've been counting or anything) echoed through the chapel, muffling the sounds of the wedding bells ringing. His voice. You stopped in your tracks, knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the bouquet, feeling everyone's stares go from you to the man who was here to stop your wedding. You turned to meet his gaze, seeing how devastatingly handsome he looked in a black suit, his red eyes boring into yours.

The last time you'd seen Miguel O'Hara was when you had been at his apartment, breaking up with him. You'd spent the day at his apartment, going from watching 'Teresa' to cuddling on the couch. He was standing over the stove, checking that the pozole wasn't burning when you came up to him, asking to talk.

"What do you wanna talk about, chiquita hermosa?" [pretty little one]

"I think we should break up, this isn't working out for us anymore."

"Is this you or your mother talking?"

The question made you stop talking, tears collecting in your eyes as you looked down in shame. "You know what's expected of me, Miguel," you murmured, looking up at him through tear stricken eyes. "I do know what's expected of you, but that doesn't mean I agree with you marrying some stranger just because of the business boost," he said, grabbing your chin to look up at you as he wiped the tears away. "I'm sorry Mig, pero tengo que hacer lo que me piden," [but i have to do what they ask from me] you spoke up a couple seconds later, noting the way his brows furrowed as you spoke. "Espero que seas feliz, corazón. Nunca amaré a alguien como te amo a ti," [I hope you're happy, sweetheart. I'll never love anyone the way I love you] he whispered, kissing your forehead and keeping you in his embrace for just a couple seconds more.

Wedding arrangements were quickly made after you told your mother that you finally ended things with Miguel, from going to get the dress fitted to getting a venue booked for a fall wedding. You'd managed to catch a break a week before your wedding and decided to go out with your friend bar-hopping since your soon-to-be husband was out of the country again.

"So tell me again why you're planning on marrying this piece of shit if it's clear as day he's cheating on you?" your friend, Percy, asked as she took a sip from her margarita, her brows furrowed. "I mean, in his defense, we don't actually expect to fall in love y'know? plus, it's for business purposes and whatever," you tried your best to explain but the situation sounded stupid even to you. "I get that you want to make your parents happy with this marriage/business deal, but what about your own happiness? Is it really worth it to be in a loveless marriage just so your dad's happy?" she asked, her hands on top of yours as worry etched on to her features. You'd decided to change the conversation to a safer topic, because you were aware that deep down, she and Miguel were right.

And now you were here, standing in between the love of your life and the man that was pre planned for you to marry. Before you had a chance to say anything though, your mom quickly tugged you to the side, steam practically coming out of her ears. "Yo pensé que ya no estabas con ese muchacho! ¿Qué esta haciendo aquí?!" [ I thought you weren't with that boy anymore! What is he doing here?] your mom asked as she avoided the gazes from all the tias murmuring amongst themselves. "Yo no estoy con él! Yo no sé que hace aqui," [I'm not with him! I don't know what he's doing here] you tried to explain yourself as your mom paced around the hallway, shaking her head. "Do you know the amount of shame you've brought into this family with his little stunt? Your father gave you everything just for you to turn out to be a disappointment!" she screamed, standing a couple feet from you as she tugged at the roots of her hair, "Ve adentro y dile a ese bueno para nada que se vaya!" [go inside and tell that no good to leave]

You walked inside once more, walking all the way to the altar as the word 'disappointment' rang in your head. You quickly realized that even if you did this, it wouldn't give you the love that you wanted from your parents or the love that Miguel had given you once upon a time. You'd craved that love from your parents for so long, that you were willing to set yourself as a transactional token. As your fiancé decided to start reciting the vows he'd gotten off Google, you decided to speak up. "I'm sorry but I can't get married to this man. And I'm sorry to everyone for wasting your time."

You heard the mumbling that was building up in the chapel get louder as you stepped outside, full blown yelling coming from your mom. You looked over to the side, seeing Miguel sitting there with his hands in between his knees. "Hey, is this seat taken?" you asked, tapping his shoulder as he scooted over, looking at you with a smile.

"¿Qué paso, chiquita?" [what happened, little one?]

"I realized that despite all this, my parents still won't love me, so might as well chase my own happiness."

"Perdon por arruinarte la boda, pero es que no podía verte infeliz con ese tipo." [sorry for ruining your wedding, but I couldn't stand seeing you unhappy with that guy]

"I'll admit, it was kind of a big entrance, but I liked it. Thank you Miguelito, for fighting for us even if I haven't done the same."

"You're someone worth fighting for, mi cielito lindo. [pretty sweetheart] Even if your parents haven't shown you that."

"Hey Miguel?"

"¿Sí?" [yes?]

"Take me home."

Miguel carried you bridal style into the apartment you were so familiar with, dropping you carefully on the bed. "Espera te cierro los ojos que quiero intentar algo," he whispered into your ear once he placed you down, putting a blindfold on you. [hold on I'm gonna close your eyes, I want to try something] A couple seconds of Miguel humming to himself later, he took off the blindfold to reveal small candles lit around the room. "I know it's not the honeymoon you wanted but I hope it's still good," he said, rubbing the back of his head as he sat down on the bed next to you. "Esta perfecto, Miguel. Solo te necesito a ti," you reassured him, placing your hand on top of his. [it's perfect Miguel. I only need you]

He got on his knees, pulling your legs to drape over his shoulders as he kissed up your legs, his fangs gently grazing on the skin. He took his time kissing up your legs, kissing gently on your inner thighs, laughing silently as he ignored the way you squirmed to get your pussy closer to his face. He pressed a small kiss on the front of your panties, taking them off with his teeth, sliding them down your legs slowly. He tentatively licked your folds before delving in, his tongue plunging into your hole with no warning. You let out a moan, fingers flying to intertwine themselves in his hair as he continued to make out with your pussy.

Miguel sucked on your clit, circling his tongue around the bud as his finger plunged inside of you, instantly finding the spot that had you curling your toes and gripping his hair tighter. His tongue and fingers switched places a couple seconds later, his mouth exploring every inch of your spongy walls as his thumb rubbed your clit, basking in every single one of your moans. "Miguel, i'm about to-" you managed to say before you came all over his tongue, your hand limp against his hair. He sucked on your pussy, looking up at you as his mouth glistened from your juices. He leaned in, giving you a passionate kiss as he intertwined his hand in your hair.

You discarded of your wedding dress, leaving you in that white, almost angelic looking, white lacy bra and a garter, getting on your knees in front of Miguel. His claws ripped your bra apart, throwing it to the side as he bent down to take care of the garter on your legs. You kissed his tip, leaving small kisses down the shaft before you took his tip in your mouth. You started to slowly swirl your tongue around his tip, taking in his every moan and breathy gasp, his hands moving to both sides of your head. You take more of him in your mouth, looking up at him, his eyes meeting yours.

"Ay nena. [baby] Such a good little cocksucker for me," he moaned out, his hand caressing your cheek. You felt you felt your pussy clench around nothing as he praised you, calling you 'his good cocksleeve' and 'his pretty little slut'. "Let me fuck your face, princesa dulce," he told you, more as a warning than a question. [sweet princess] You stuck your tongue out flat as he started to thrust slowly into your mouth, wiping away the tears that were rolling down. "Que puta tan bonita," he moaned, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as he started to slip in and out of your mouth faster. [what a pretty whore/slut] Your tongue glided across the shaft as he thrusted inside your mouth, his cum shooting deep into your throat. You stuck your tongue out after you swallowed it, watching him lean down and kiss you.

He slid inside of you slowly, feeling your walls clamp around his cock like a vice, his lips kissing your chest as he murmured sweet nothings into your skin. "You're doing so well for me, sweet girl," he whispered, sliding another deliciously painful inch inside, your hands gripping his back as he did so. He slowly retracted, trying to make the accommodation easier for you, before sliding in once more. He continued with the slow thrusts, your pussy eventually opening up to accommodate his length. He started speeding up, his hips slapping against your ass, his lips letting out small whimpers as he kissed your stomach. "Que puta tan hermosa que eres. Y solo para mi," he moaned, his lips moving to kiss your neck, his fangs digging in. [what a pretty whore you are. and just for me] "Solo para ti," you affirmed, your hips moving to meet his thrusts to the best of your ability as your hands raked down his back, marking him as yours. [just for you] You felt the all too familiar coil tightening in your lower stomach as your pussy walls tightened around his cock, your hands gripping on his shoulders. "Come for me, mi reina," he moaned, thrusting in deeply as his thumb circled around your clit, the action making you clench around him tightly before releasing. [my queen]

He flipped you over, massaging your ass before dipping a finger in your pussy, licking your juices and letting out a low moan. "Taste so good," he whispered before he slipped his cock inside you once more, his hands grabbing onto your hips. Your previous orgasm allowed him to slip in with ease, your pussy walls engulfing his cock. He started thrusting faster after he made sure that you weren't feeling too much pain, the only sounds in the room being skin slapping and your combined moaning. He lifted his hand up, slapping your ass before grabbing your hair in a makeshift ponytail, pulling your back to his chest as he littered kisses on your shoulder. He wanted to mark himself on your body, as his way to make sure you wouldn't leave him again. He thrusted deeper, the tip of his cock bruising your cervix, watching as you writhed and moaned underneath him.

You gripped the bedsheets, your mouth in a 'o' shape as you felt your incoming orgasm, your pussy walls clamping around him like a vice. "I'm almost there," he moaned out, his hands gripping your hips tightly as his thrusts started to get sloppier. You moved your hips against his, your orgasm coming in waves as you clenched around him tightly. "Squeezing me so good, mama," his voice came out breathier than expected as he continued moving against you, his orgasm coming moments after. He pulled his softening cock out, plunging two fingers in you to stuff the cum back inside.

Miguel got up from the bed a couple minutes after you two cuddled, walking over to the bathroom and turning on the faucet. He walked over to you once more, brushing the hair out of your face as he smiled, kissing your forehead. "The bath's almost ready," he said, grabbing you up from the bed and carrying to the bathroom. He'd poured in your favorite scented bath bomb and grabbed some of the candles from the bedroom, placing them on the counter with the lights dimmed. He set you down on the bath before sitting behind you, his hands gently rubbing circles on your back.

He left small kisses on your neck as his hands moved to give your back and shoulders a small massage. "I missed you," he sighed, turning you to look at him, a look of longing on his face. "I'm sorry for everything, for picking my family over you," you whispered, a small tear drop falling, his finger wiping it off your cheek. "Lo importante es que ya estas conmigo, cariño," he whispered reassuringly, lifting your chin up to kiss you, pulling away a couple seconds later, saying, "Porque te quería preguntar ¿que si te puedes casar conmigo?" [the important thing is that you're finally with me, sweetheart/because i wanted to ask if you would marry me]

#moon-rivr #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel smut #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara spiderverse #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman atsv #spiderman smut

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project-sekai-facts · 3 months

Note

Hey I've been wondering, could you explain Akito and his death symbolism? It's been constantly mentioned or implied in his recent focus songs and VBS covers (getting lines about "death" or "dying" and the likes)

It's just because the fandom is using that to mischaracterize him as an overly depressed and suicidal guy (another Mafuyu copy; pls save him and Tsukasa) and I just don't think that's what the writers mean to say and the point of his whole character!!!

(prefacing this: I'm aware there was a thread about this going round twitter a while ago, I haven't read it specifically because of this ask and if anything is the same that wasn't intentional and I apologise)

A large part of Akito's character arc is his difficulty with improvement and his sheer determination and passion that goes alongside it. He had always viewed his lack of natural talent and unrefined skills as something that made him inferior, which only led to him pushing himself to his extremes, and trying to face things independently and head-on. This is something that's touched on heavily in the STRAY BAD DOG event, where we get to see him learn to rely on his teammates more and realise that he isn't alone. Find A Way Out continues his arc of personal development, with him realising he's actually not so different to the people he looks up to, and finally learning to accept and feel confident with his improvement instead of just pushing forward almost desperately. It's that idea of him finally realising that he won't always be a step behind everyone else and good things are actually coming with his hard work.

Building off that idea, it's like a sort of rebirth. And that's where the links to Kashika come in. Kashika is a song about death and longing which gets horribly misinterpreted and has led people to believe Akito is suicidal which is simply untrue. The thing that's dying in this context is Akito's old self. The child who had no talent and was falling so far behind everyone. The child who worked so, so, so hard to be perfect is dying. And that sounds like a negative thing but it's really not. It's a metaphor for Akito reflecting on himself and moving on from the past and breaking new ground.

The 2DMV adds another layer to this with its marigolds, which not only symbolise death, but also can symbolise a renewal. And in this case, renewal refers to Akito's growth following the events of FAWO. He finally faced up to his past mistakes and overcame them, but even then he won't let himself feel relief. It's only with the help of Taiga's story about Ken that he's finally able to be more satisfied with himself and how far he's managed to come. He's finally able to break out from that belief that he's forever going to be stuck behind, and he's able to have faith in himself. Realising that Ken was just like him and managed to get to such a high level of skill and be so respected by those around him finally lets Akito believe that he too can reach that same light.

The butterflies in the background again symbolise renewal or transformation. It's not about death as per se, it's about change. Change and growth and transformation are recurring themes in prsk's character writing, and Akito is no exception. While on a surface level, Kashika is about death, if you put it next to the story, it's about regeneration. Akito is moving forward and leaving the old him behind, he says as much in the FAWO story.

If you actually read the lyrics to Kashika, it's genuinely kinda shocking to me how much people misinterpret its connection to Akito as a character. Like I get the song talks about death a lot and wanting to die, but particularly in these extracts you can see some of the key points of the FAWO event - Akito's determination, passion and self-acceptance. It's a song about Akito growing up, physically and emotionally, and saying goodbye to his past self.

Now as anon pointed out, the marigolds previously appeared in his card from Light Up The Fire. And while in the case of this event, it was most likely drawn to connect with the story surrounding Nagi's death, but it's worth mentioning that every character had their own flower, so the marigolds are specific to him.

As I mentioned in today's fact, aside from being associated with death, grief, and mourning, marigolds can also have positive connotations of optimism and passion based on their warm and vibrant colors. One of the key elements of LUTF was despair and grief, shown through more ways than one. Whilst the truth of Nagi's death came as a shock to the VBS and the others, the following battle with Taiga crushed their hope to the point that everyone except VBS gave up. VBS decides to keep trying for Nagi, and again there's that idea of a renewal. They know the truth now, and are going to come back and get better. Now while this is more general about VBS, the marigolds are still specific to Akito, considering how he's always been the most determined one who has taught himself that the only way he can succeed is through sheer perseverance. Whilst it applies to all of VBS in this instance, it applies even moreso to him.

Also it leads very nicely into his fes card story, which follows after the events of LUTF from his point of view. Something notable about his fragment sekai is that it's a completely barren wasteland. It's dead. And to top it all off, he gets amnesia. However the whole point of his sekai is to remind him of his determination, remind him that he has never once given up on this dream, how he's fought and fought to hold onto it and shouldn't let what happened with Taiga and the truth behind RW strike him down. Despite the area being dead and barren, and despite the fact he can't even remember who he is at all, he still pushes forwards and keeps walking through the dangerous environment because he knows he can't just sit around, he knows he has to do something. He knows it's not a choice, it's a necessity for him to persevere, even if he can't remember why. In the end he does remember, and finds a single flower that is managing to flourish despite the harsh conditions, and he even compares himself to it because truthfully they're one in the same. Even in a hopeless situation, Akito manages to pull through. In a metaphorical sense, he can't truly die, he still finds a way to thrive even if the world is against him. His determination truly is the core of his character.

And that leads us nicely to BURN MY SOUL, which I would consider to be the end of his first character arc. Despite having learnt a lesson about his true strength and potential in FAWO, he still hasn't reached that full potential, and he still believes that he needs to keep pushing and keep working. Through Ken's advice, he's able to realise that he's been so focused on perfection that he's bottling up all the passion inside of him. Because he's so passionate about music and it's this passion that fuels his resolve that is ultimately his core, his soul. And especially after everything that's happened, the fact that there's still a lingering sense of despair after the incident with Taiga, he needs to truly let that passion burn and realise that his true potential has been inside of him all along. His role as assigned by Ken is to light up a fire amongst the people again, so he let's the fire within him burn freely for the first time, and it works exactly as needed and is able to rekindle hope throughout the town and in one of his teammates.

Back to that idea about how metaphorically Akito cannot die, I really like the symbolism of fire within VBS and Akito in particular because it's framed in such a way that the fire lit by RW is a flame that can't burn out. Even with things such as CRaZY's "I'm so ready to die" and the "I'm going to pry it open like I'm going to die" voiceline that plays when you pull his WL card, it's not meant in such a way that he wants to die, but in a way that he's going to put his all into it as if it is the last thing he'll ever do. Akito doesn't want to die, he wants to live to see things through to the end. He's too determined to let anything snuff out his flame, and even then that makes me think of the original usage of snuffing out a flame, which was actually to trim the wick so the flame could burn brighter. If you care enough about that dumb candle analogy, you could say that Taiga/the events of LUTF tried to extinguish Akito's flame, only for him to come back from the dead (and quite literally considering the wasteland in his fes card), and now he's only burning brighter and stronger.

Akito's death symbolism isn't a negative thing. Akito isn't someone who wants to die, he's too determined to die. No matter how much the universe tells him to give up he'll never stop pushing and never stop breaking down the walls around him until he sees his dreams through. All his death symbolism is equally tied to the idea of rebirth or even just living. Kashika is about him leaving his past behind and moving forward, his fes card is about his passion counteracting despair, and Burn my soul/CRaZY/Break down the wall are all about him being so fired up that he's going to act as if it's his final day. He's learning to be satisfied with his life and where he is. He's ready to live and to say he wants to die is a great injustice to his character arc.

#sorry this kinda just became an akito character analysis but. i think atp you're all just used to it #asks #mod talks #akito shinonome

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fun-k-board · 6 months

Text

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

How would some of my favourite characters be if their S/O loves Halloween?

Media Included : Mortal Kombat 11, Insomniacs Spider-Man, Young Justice.

Characters Included : Mileena, Kitana, Peter Parker, Miles Morales, Artemis, Superboy.

Note (s) : I originally had a poll and all of MK11 won but honestly I would've gotten no enjoyment out of writing it, so, have this instead.

Be warned I haven't watched young justice in like a year.

Mileena

Mileena doesn't know what Halloween is, there isn't much of an equivalent in Outworld that would make sense for her to participate in, however, she's definitely interested after learning about it from you. Especially after seeing how excited you are.

After realising she can carve whatever she wants in the pumpkin, she gets very excited. Mileena would most likely carve a 'scary' face, similar to a Tarkatans with the large teeth, but, she isn't the most skilled artist... It ends up looking a bit wonky and more funny than scary.

If she's in a bad mood, she'd probably try to carve Kitana dying, and it would end up more like a blob than anything coherent.

She likes the decorations, and might help put a few up, but prefers them not to be in her way, she will absolutely destroy any fake cobwebs or skeletons in her path.

If you want to stay at home and put on the likes of 'Hocus Pocus' 'The Nightmare Before Christmas' or even horror movies like 'Halloween', she's interested in them all. She especially finds the portrayals of sorcerers to be hilarious and wants to show Shang Tsung how incompetent humans think they are.

Mileena finds horror movies fascinating but sometimes she's very critical of the gore and how unrealistic it is, one time she stormed out of the house because of how horrible a CGI blood splatter was.

She probably won't bother matching costumes or even going in a costume herself, she's just not interested enough for whatever cheap gimmicks Earthrealm's cooked up.

I actually think she'd just go in her regular clothes but without a mask, it's uncomfortable to be seen as scary, but, she doesn't want to wear a ridiculous costume or spend hours walking around in a mask.

Mileena is most excited for the trick or treating itself, the fact you can just go up to people's houses and ask for sweets and people will just give it?? She's so shocked, nothing like that would ever happen in Outworld.

She won't be too smiley until she gets home though, whenever the door opens she's sweating nervously, Mileena almost wishes she brought her mask to hide her face.

She always manages to stay up until everybody else goes home or falls asleep, and carries, she insists you're not walking even if you're not tired at all, you back home, where she finds the pumpkins destroyed and your house covered in toilet paper.

She vows to kill the person who ruined your pumpkins, and probably ends up springing a Halloween massacre for your area.

Kitana

She's definitely heard of Halloween from Johnny or Sonya, but she's never really been able to dress up or be too involved. Kitana has responsibilities in Outworld, and she can't risk them for a holiday, regardless of her desire to participate.

Once she sees how excited you are, however, she decides to make up an excuse to go to Earthrealm, it's only for a few hours, and she's a bit antsy over the decision, but she's doing it for you nonetheless.

Kitana helps you put up the decorations, laughing at how silly some of them look, and she takes great joy in spending some time with you that she usually can't.

Her pumpkin carving skills aren't too bad, she's not some master artist with them, but she can make a mean scary face.

I don't think she'd want to dress up, but she's definitely alright if you want to, she'll share her opinion on your costume and maybe suggest a different one if she thinks it'd fit you better.

She really enjoys things like The Nightmare Before Christmas, wholesome yet with a bit of scary elements thrown in. She especially likes Hocus Pocus when it comes to the family part of it, it's no secret how messed up hers is.

Kitana's amused at how magic is portrayed in both Halloween movies and by certain costumes, she nearly loses it after seeing an old man mask under the 'wizard' title.

Kitana personally doesn't enjoy the gore heavy and over the top violence of horror movies, although, she will admit she enjoys the fight choreography of some of them. She prefers psychological horrors.

Kitana is rather nervous about trick or treating, she loves the idea of the fun and sweet part, but the idea that the stranger could've poisoned the sweets makes her nervous, even if you assure her that the signs are obvious and if there are none it should be safe to consume.

She inspects the sweets around five times before even considering you take a bite.

She looks like some type of bodyguard, following behind you with swift and graceful steps, she lets herself have fun of course, but her guard is always up.

When you both get home, she's very happy to rest with you and sleep, but if duty calls she might have to cut the night short and return to Outworld.

Peter Parker

Peter skips out on a holiday or two sometimes, his identity as Spider-Man is far too important, and Halloween is the one that usually gets skipped. Aunt May never really celebrated it, she usually just left out a bowl of sweets. MJ isn't an avid Halloween person, neither is Harry after he grew up. So, it was a huge surprise at how invested in Halloween you are.

Peter isn't that good of a pumpkin carver, so he typically does the regular 'spooky face' with wobbly lines, it's his favourite and was his go to ever since he was a kid.

He finds matching costumes cute and especially loves dressing up in his old Spider-Man costume and making one especially for you, of course, neither of you include the web shooters and he makes sure to use an old enough suit where there's no tech in it.

Peter's great at hanging up decorations, he has specialised web fluid that can last for a few days or even a week, so, he uses that to his advantage and usually does that along with crawling on the ceiling.

He loved trick or treating as a kid, it was the one time of the year he could dress up and not be a nerd, he and Harry had so much fun together. It's really nostalgic, and sometimes people will point out your costumes, finding it funny that grown adults are going as the city's hero.

He adores trick or treating, it makes him feel like a kid again. Although, unfortunately a lot of crime tends to happen on Halloween, so, sometimes he does have to slip away quickly to punch a few bad guys.

He might check once or twice to see if there's anything wrong with the candy, but besides that he sometimes forgets how deadly some of them can be. He does feel his heart race a bit when you take a bite, only to reveal nothing is wrong, he lets out a huge sigh of relief.

Peter's nervous watching psychological thrillers and ones that use the whole 'creepy kid aesthetic' to its full potential. He's fine with gorey slasher flicks, and even enjoys some of them for the horrible acting and bad effects.

He prefers more kid friendly stuff, like The Nightmare Before Christmas, but he nearly cried watching Coraline for the first time.

Miles Morales

Miles has been a huge Halloween enjoyer since he was a kid, he used to spend hours trying to handmake a costume with his parents help, he misses those days. He's never missed Halloween, or any holiday, but miles has been close a few times.

After he started dating you he realised just how much fun it can be and that he shouldn't sacrifice time with his loved ones, especially not on a day you both love.

Miles, while not exactly having an over abundance of money to do so, will a hundred percent try to hand make costumes for the both of you, with your help of course. Maybe it's something small like Morticia Addams and Gomez Addams, or maybe it's a huge mecha costume, whichever it is, he has fun making and designing the costumes.

He's a master pumpkin carver, give him any image and he can accurately create it in pumpkin form, regardless of whether you're also like that or have trash pumpkin carving skills, he's putting yours together proudly and pointing it out to anybody who sees them.

Miles loves trick or treating, you and him walk around New York apartments for hours and hours getting all of the sweets you can, he even web swings sometimes to try and get as much as possible before Halloween ends.

I don't think he'd think to look for any poison or razor blades in the sweets you two are given, he's heard some stories for sure, but it's never happened anywhere close to him, so he assumes you're both safe.

Like Peter, he can help put up decorations by climbing on walls and ceilings, plus his webs, and so he's a huge help, although he's personally not a fan of any snake based decorations. They creep him out.

While he can handle more scary horror movies, he still reaches for and squeezes your hand whenever a kill scene happens, although, for older ones or newer ones that are bad looking, he prefers to analyse the artistic side of things. Special effects and practical effects are so interesting to him. Not only that, he could spend hours talking about the music and themes of each character or event.

He loves any stop motion, Nightmare Before Christmas, Coraline, and Corpse Bride to name a few. Not only are they just beautiful, but any bad storylines or things that haven't aged well don't really matter when he's staring at something so pretty.

Artemis

Artemis never had the chance to celebrate Halloween as a kid, she wishes she did because it always sounded so fun, the most she managed to get was her mother putting out sweets for kids in costumes to nab. Some part of her wishes that she was one of them at some point.

When she begins dating you, your interest in Halloween is one she can greatly relate to, perhaps for different reasons, but, it's something shared nonetheless.

Artemis likes the idea of dressing in costumes, it's a quarter of her job so she's used to it by now, but she can admit she feels too childish when she wears a vampire or any other Halloween-esque costume. She thinks you look cute in them, though.

She's used to helping her mother around the house, so when you ask for help putting up decorations she's alright with that, whether or not you can't reach because you're short, you can't do it all on your own, or if you just want to get it done quicker, she'll help you.

Artemis is a decent pumpkin carver, she can make a few impressive faces, but unless she spends hours and hours, she can't do a full body or anything other than a spooky face without it being a little wonky.

She genuinely does enjoy going trick or treating, she can come across a little blank and emotionless when walking around, but she really does feel happy and safe with you. Even if you two are walking alone at night knocking on strangers doors for candy.

She definitely checks every piece for any poison or razor blades, she's not taking any chances with you.

Artemis loves more childish movies, don't tell anybody in the tower though! She especially loves ones like Coraline, she feels really seen and can even relate to her a tiny bit.

She's not a big horror fan, especially not ones that try to make the unsympathetic sympathetic, it's just boring watches to her usually. Gore ones are easier to get through, it's just mindless slashing and bad acting, sometimes they're so bad that it becomes funny though, she enjoys those ones. Artemis isn't the biggest fan of psychological thrillers either, not because they're more scary to her, they're just more uncomfortable.

Superboy

Superboy has most likely heard of Halloween, but never had the chance to participate because... Well, you know. He isn't very interested in it, the costume part, the sweets part, it's not exactly his thing, regardless of if he's tried it before or not.

He's surprised at just how excited you are about Halloween, it's not like he despises the holiday, it just feels so alien to him. Despite that, Conner will help put up decorations in hard to reach places, or if something is heavy, he might grumble about it, but he truthfully doesn't mind.

Well, as said before, he isn't too interested in the costumes. A lot of them are just too silly for him, but maybe with some convincing he could do a matching couples one. He likes when you dress up, though, he thinks you look cute and even funny in some of them.

Conner isn't great at pumpkin carving, he gets frustrated easily and might smash the poor thing, despite that, he may either act like it was on purpose or just hide it from you.

He doesn't enjoy trick or treating, because of his unwillingness to dress up, he's either a guy in a superman shirt who looks like he's about to commit a felony, or a huge, quiet guy in a goofy costume whose fist is always angrily clenched.

He can tell if any sweets are bad, his vision makes it easy, and he will absolutely smack the sweet out of that person's hand and begin yelling at them.

Conner is alright with horror movies, he's not scared by them because he knows they're not real. But, that doesn't mean he likes what he's watching. Most of them are boring or just plain stupid to him. He thinks more kid friendly ones are to his style, they're not overly edgy, funny coming from him, while also not being boring because most kid media is designed to keep a kids attention.

156 notes · View notes

maelstrom-of-emotions · 15 days

Note

Could you recommend some SasuNaru fics?

SASUNARU FIC RECS

Alright, so here's a collection of some of my favorite, re-read worthy SasuNaru fics of all time. The list is bound to expand, but for now, we have these gems.

i'll let it grow wild in my veins by thunderpoint

Summary:

“That’s good, right?” He feels somewhat out of his mind. It's a rush he's not used to, something he doesn't particularly like, and it leaves him wondering if this is what he should have felt when this whole thing first started. “When your future brother-in-law says shit like that it means that he approves of you, right? Fuck, I’m getting married to Uchiha Itachi’s little brother, Shika. What the fuck-” Shikamaru’s face twists, “Naruto-” The kitchen door bursts open, and Temari steps into the living room, gaping at them both. “Naruto’s getting married?"

Status: Currently Ongoing, 10/?

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn.

Thoughts: One of the best arranged marriage fics ever, the writing is amazing and out of this world, and if you haven't read this masterpiece what are you even doing with your life?

(You can also find the author on tumblr @thunder-point.)

2. everybody knows that you cradle the sun by Lyxxie

Summary:

“Y’know—before mom passed—she used to tell me about my dad. She'd tell me the kind of person you wanted to end up with, someone you kept around. She'd tell me about opposites, about calming the other one down and bringing them back up, about how they'd do the same for you. She'd say that you wanted someone who remembered things about you, not just the big stuff. Mundane shit that doesn't need to be remembered, but they do anyway. She'd say 'keep those who chronicle your life because it's theirs, too'." OR: Naruto challenges Sasuke to a game of “who knows the other person better.” Sasuke panics when he realizes that he might be the winner because what in the actual fuck does that mean? He doesn’t know. Naruto tells him.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Roomates, College/University. Humor. Domestic. Explicit Sexual Content.

Thoughts: A fic I would sell my soul for. You haven't lived if you haven't read this fic.

3. Waiting for an Answer by KinomiAkai

Summary:

After eight years of struggling, Naruto finally caves and confesses to Sasuke. But it's okay; nothing is going to change between them. Everything will be the same. ...The moment Sasuke stops bringing it up every twenty seconds, it'll be the same.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Roomates. Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love.

Thoughts: Sasuke is an Asshole and I am here for it.

(You can find them on tumblr @kinomiakai)

4. It's All In The Kiss (And Bondage) by Dhampir (Dhampire)

Summary:

Sasuke never looked at Naruto as anything more than an annoyance like all his other peers, but a kiss, and a little bondage, is about to change all that. Reddit Crack Fic Idea: After getting kissed in the academy and then attacked and tied up by Naruto, Sasuke realizes he has followed all the steps of the traditional Uchiha ninja courtship(An old process inspired by the kidnapping of a rival clan kunoichi). Sasuke feels really touched and starts acting like a Yandere, being really nice to Naruto in his withdrawn way and getting really mad whenever someone says something bad about Naruto.

Tags: Accidental Engagements, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Humor. Tsundere to Yandere.

Status: Completed, 11/11

Thoughts: Anything by this author is an absolute masterpiece, so do check out their other works! They manage to perfectly balance humor and fluff!

5. you and me, that's my whole world by cloudyheaven

Summary:

“If you wanted me to be your Valentine this bad, you could’ve just said so,” Naruto said. The cheeky grin he was giving him made Sasuke want to kiss him again just to wipe it off his face. However, he wasn’t one to waste a good opportunity. “That’s exactly what I want,” he said, matter-of-factly. The grin fell off Naruto’s face. “Shit, are you serious?” The one where Naruto and Sasuke have been in an unofficial friends-with-benefits arrangement for months, completely unaware of their feelings for each other.

Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Jealous Uchiha Sasuke, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentines Day, Love Confessions.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: A perfect fluffy fic for grey days. Always makes me smile whenever I read it.

6. wear my heart on your sleeve by cloudyheaven

Summary:

Sasuke coughed into his hand and simply looked down at his ass. Naruto followed his gaze and found another uchiwa sown on his left buttcheek. “Oh, this is ridiculous,” he said. “Wait, is this why people have been looking at my ass so much lately?!” He turned to look at his boyfriend again. “Is this why you have been staring at it more than normal?!” Sasuke simply avoided his gaze again. “Not like I need an excuse to look at your ass.” Or, how possessive boyfriend Uchiha Sasuke found a way to mark Naruto and make it sociably acceptable.

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Chapter 699, Fluff and Humor, Fluff Without Plot, Soft Uchiha Sasuke.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Perfectly balanced fluff and humor fic by the godsend cloudyheaven.

7. all the small wild things by GreatLoversLieInHell

Summary:

Naruto doesn't like to be touched. Sasuke asks him why. (To be loved is to be changed)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Child Abuse, Touch-Starved Naruto.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: A fic that makes my soul ache. The author is simply amazing.

(You can also find them on Tumblr @greatloverslieinhell)

8. the vines that grow by GreatLoversLieInHell

Summary:

After getting discharged from the hospital, Naruto returns to a home that’s no longer standing. Sasuke, who doesn’t do well in cages, flees the first chance he gets. Unmoored, unsettled, Naruto looks to his motherland for answers. Uzushio calls her son home. The road to Uzushiogakure is long, but Sasuke walks it with him. Sasuke, who looks at him, hungry. Sasuke, who sees him, wherever the light gets in.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-War, Uzumaki Naruto-Centric, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst With Happy Ending, Uzushiogakure | Hidden Eddy Village.

Status: Completed, 14/14.

Thoughts: I shall create a shrine for this fic one day, for the adoration is not nearly enough as it deserves.

(You can also find them on Tumblr @greatloverslieinhell)

9. A Thousand Summers More by bluelikeskies

Summary:

Sasuke has seen a million sunrises, a thousand summers, but he has never seen anything like the way Naruto smiles at him, brighter than all those sunrises and summers combined.

Tags: Pining Sasuke, Soft, Prose, Mythical Beings and Creatures.

Status: Complete, 1/1.

Thoughts: Beautiful. Simply and utterly beautiful.

10. syzygy by glassedplanets

Summary:

In which Sasuke comes home, an errand needs to be run, several people tell him things, and he realizes just what home really is, for him.

Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Reunions, Homecoming, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending.

Status: Completed, 6/6.

Thoughts: Ethereal, I adore the writing style of this author.

11. kiss me (under the moonlight glow) by ashmes

Summary:

“You count what happened in the Academy as a kiss?” Naruto’s gaze snaps towards him so quick when he asks, “You don’t?”

Tags: Post-Canon, Post-War, Post Chapter 699, Soft.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: I would sacrifice anything for this fanfic. It is utterly amazing.

(You can also find them on tumblr at @sapphicvevo.)

12. Let me help you (this time) by Here_to_procrastinate

Summary:

Sasuke really kind of loves his boyfriend and wishes the idiot would start looking after himself at least a little bit. ~ After the war Naruto can't stop helping everybody and is slowely but surely running himself into the ground. With a bit of help from others Sasuke tries to finally be what Naruto needs.

Tags: Whipped Sasuke, Jealous Sasuke, Everybody Loves Naruto, Fluff, Humor, A Bit of Angst, Post-Fourth Shinobi War, Protective Shikamaru & Sakura.

Status: 1/1, Complete.

Thoughts: Perfect feel good fic.

13. Overcoming Distance by Athqh16

Summary:

It starts with a bento box. Black with a white cover and a red strap to keep it together. There was nothing actually pernicious about it except for the fact that the person who'd suddenly placed it in the middle of Naruto's lonely cafeteria table was his one and only rival, Sasuke motherfucking Uchiha

Status: 7/7, Completed.

Tags: Modern Au, Angst, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Friends To Lovers.

Thoughts: An absolute classic, I adore this!

(You can also find the author on tumblr @atqh16)

14. homeward by mnee

Summary:

Sasuke returns to Konoha. Or, more accurately, to Naruto.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Chapter 699, Soft, Boys in Love.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: Utterly divine, it's so soft I want to cry.

15. a public display of affection by fiveandnocents

Summary:

In the three hours since their arrival, Gaara has stumbled across them kissing no less than seven times. Considering that they are all ninja, he is very aware that this is no coincidence. Or, five times Naruto and Sasuke get caught (plus the first time no one was around).

Tags: 5+1 Things, Possessive Sasuke, Kissing, Post-Canon, Not Boruto Canon.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: This story could not be any more perfect.

16. The Way To A Man's Heart by littledust

Summary:

Sasuke has no idea how to woo Naruto.

Tags: Fluff, Humor.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: Perfect fic for a pick-me-up. Makes me smile everytime.

17. the time traveler's husband by blind_io

Summary:

Throughout his life, Naruto travels to different moments in Sasuke’s timeline. It changes them both.

Tags: Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Alternate Universe, Inspired by The Time Traveler's Wife.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Brilliant. Simply and utterly brilliant.

18. The sun is too bright, it hurts by waywardfacegarden

Summary:

The first time Sasuke sees Naruto, they are six years old. Sasuke is not stupid, he learns fast, and there are three basic things about Naruto you can know after being five seconds in the same room as him: first, he’s noisy. Second, he talks a lot. Third, he’s annoying. Years later, Sasuke thinks the same, but Naruto is much more than that to him.

Tags: Childhood Friends, Enemies To Friends To Lovers, Everyone is Alive, Modern AU.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: chefs kiss Magnifique. Deserves all the kudos in the world.

19. i want you to want me (i'd love you to love me) by Aethelar

Summary:

Five times Naruto kissed Sasuke and he left, plus one time Sasuke kissed Naruto and stayed.

Tags: 5+1, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: This fic is something to live for. It is just so beautiful.

20. Red or Blue? by ReleasedFromHisCage

Summary:

Naruto took over his godfather's store so he could retire and creates a safe space for his regulars and one-time customers alike, mostly his regulars though. Sasuke Uchiha is one of these regulars.

Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Mild Hurt/Comfort.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: It's everything I've ever wanted in a fic.

21. don't stay away for too long by kintou

Summary:

With Naruto living there Sasuke's apartement has finally turned into a home. So what he doesn't quite get is that Naruto is here, in his pyjama's, telling him he's going to move out.

Tags: Modern Au, Roomates, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Breakfast.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: And they were roommates. Oh my god they were roommates. I am a puddle on the floor. This is simply too precious. It's not good for my heart.

(You can also find them on Tumblr @soft-fics)

22. Killing it by dawnstruck

Summary:

A year after Jiraiya's death, a new Icha Icha volume gets published. Self-declared Number One Fan, Hatake Kakashi, grows suspicious, but keeps buying them anyway.

Tags: Humor, Mid Crack, Mind Angst, Kakashi POV.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: From the summary to the last line this fic had me hooked. Witty and charming and just the best.

23. The Color Of Your Heart by RedRemember

Summary:

The Uchiha were blessed ninjas who possessed demon-like abilities and demon blood. Their race had been wiped out almost to extinction, but a survivor sat in Kakashi’s midst. Kakashi felt apprehensive about training such a child, not wanting to train a bloodthirsty creature how to be a better hunter. & “You’re experiencing your first heat.”, and “You’re an omega.” These were phrases his caretaker kept saying to him. Naruto felt extremely weak, but he understood one thing, and that was he would never be an alpha like Sasuke.

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Naruto, Alpha Sasuke, Personal Growth, Blood and Violence, Mating Bond.

Status: Ongoing, 7/12

Thoughts: When I tell you I hit that subscribe button so fast. Simply perfect. All my hopes wrapped into a beautiful fic.

24. Bouquet of hate by FoolishFortuna

Summary:

Sasuke confesses his feelings with an unusual bunch of flowers. Humorous fluff!

Tags: Fluff, Flowers, Humor, Getting Together, Confessions, First Kiss, Sasuke's a Dick but he's adorable.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Hilarious, sweet and amazing - a perfect fic to cheer you up on bad days, sad days or just any day in general.

25. Bare by KinomiAkai

Summary:

He's too bare. Too awake. Too used to the night and too desperate to leave it. Naruto's hand is a lifeline.

Tags: Sasuke POV, Love, Poetic, Romance, Ficlet.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Simply gorgeous, ethereal, beautiful. Short and Sweet. It's perfection to the very T.

26. Just kiss me, you idiot. by yes_iamafrog

Summary:

Ino decided to have the annual New Year's Eve party at her house. Or: Naruto and Sasuke kiss at midnight on January 1st.

Tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pining, Idiots in Love, Domestic Fluff, New Year's Kiss.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: The sweetest way I have ever been destroyed.

27. i love chaos, i love toxic by minttens

Summary:

Sasuke cannot handle the gossip that Naruto is in love with someone, and he makes it his mission to find out who.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Post-War, Jealous Sasuke.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: I'm gonna be honest, I cried. This fic is absolute perfection, someone please build a temple in it's name.

(Also, you need an AO3 account to read this fic!)

28. unforgivable by eloquentstars

Summary:

Lesson one in Dating Uzumaki Naruto 101 is: Never get between a man and his food.

Tags: Fluff Without Plot, Modern Au, Cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Sobbing for the tragic ending of Naruto/Pizza, but Sasuke/Naruto are too cute for me to mourn too long.

29. Blue Oceans and Summer Suns by orphan_account

Summary:

“Stop fucking lying to me.” He knows he isn’t, but it’s difficult for him to accept that it’s Naruto’s genuine feelings. “It isn’t a lie,” Naruto insists, leaning in once more to peck his lips as if to prove a point. He’s half on top of Sasuke now, who lays flat on his back staring up at him. “You should see yourself right now. You look as if you’re looking at something worth more than your own life.”

Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Sleepy Cuddles, Smitten Sasuke.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: I’m, like, one hundred percent super duper unbelievably in love with this fic.

30. Inevitablity by Sanauria_Maldhun

Summary:

Naruto's stressed and pining after a man who views him only as a friend. Deciding to get married to Ino isn't the best decision he's made (ever), given that they had been absolutely drunk while making such a declaration, but it's... a decision. Besides, what does he have to lose?

Tags: Background Sakura/Ino, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Angst, Jealous Sasuke, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Status: Completed, 4/4.

Thoughts: It's like a cup of coffee/tea that perfectly hits the spot. I love this fic, I've re-read this so many times and it always make me feel. I love Ino & Naruto's friendship.

31. Armistice by surveycorpsjean

Summary:

Sasuke is still here. Or maybe; love hasn't passed them yet.

Tags: Fix-It, Getting Together, Pining, Takes Place Three Years After The Boruto Movie, Where Naruto Gets Divorced and Sasuke never gets married.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: Best of the best. Like, the best.

32. speak now or forever hold your peace by frogsterz

Summary:

Will the ceremony be over by the time Sasuke makes it back? Is the news even accurate? Maybe Naruto’s not getting married, he’s getting…carried, somewhere. On a palanquin. Or he’s getting buried. No, that’s worse. (Sasuke is convinced by a passing rumour that the love of his life, Uzumaki Naruto, is about to throw the biggest and most extravagant wedding ceremony in Konoha's history...but he's not the groom. How could such a disaster have happened to him?)

Tags: Misunderstandings, Idiots in Love, Sasuke Has The Emotional Intelligence of a Wet Loaf of Bread, Post-Canon, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: These idiots, I love 'em to death.

33. symbol of the uchiha by humdrum_hummingbird

Summary:

Sasuke can't sleep, which, even after the war, is pretty typical. Instead, he stays up and watches Naruto sleep, and tonight, like most nights, Naruto is wearing a shirt with the Uchiha fan emblazoned on the back. You can't really blame Sasuke for being a little possessive after everything they've been through.

Tags: Sasuke Returns To Konoha, Possessive Sasuke, Naruto is a Ray of Sunshine, Comfort No Hurt, Soft Fluff, Boys in Love.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: This is so soft and gentle and tender I'm crying.

34. Final Destination by chaosxxx

Summary:

“The future is never set in stone. Even the smallest decision can alter its course. One action, be it accidental or intentional, can result in you meeting the love of your life! Or it can leave you alone and miserable… or dead. What I have here in front of you are the cards that show what lies at the end of each broad road.” There's a festival in Konoha, and Sasuke and Sakura visit a fortune telling booth. They just wanted a bad palm reading, not this disturbingly accurate nonsense! (SasuNaru fic. Pre-timeskip. Happy Ending)

Tags: Fortune Telling, Humor, Romance, Happy Ending, Confused Naruto, Pining Sasuke, Flirting, Cute.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: Everyone needs this fortune teller. Where can I meet her? Simply amazing and precious. Confused Naruto is just so adorable.

35. You Taste Like Coffee by itadakimasu

Summary:

All Sasuke really wanted was his nightly caffeine fix. How did it turn into this?

Tags: Coffee AU, Barista!Naruto, Confident!Sasuke, Oneshot, Sexual Content, Cute, Fluff.

Status: Completed, 1/1.

Thoughts: Perfect, like a good cup of coffee. Kicking my feet giggling throughout the entire thing.

36. Curiosity killed a cat by LydiaClairvoyanne

Summary:

Naruto realizes Sasuke behaves like a cat, and in his last attempt to make friends with the Uchiha, he tries to treat him like he would a scared, lone, traumatized, stray kitten. (I wonder what can go wrong with a plan like this.) (Nothing, the answer is. Nothing, because the plan works.)

Tags: Sasuke Behaves Like A Cat, Naruto Notices This And Treats Him Like One, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, Sleepy Cuddles, Traumatized Boys, Soft Boys.

Status: Completed, 13/13

Thoughts: One of the best fics, it manages to give such a good character study without even trying. I love this fic, I would like to marry it.

37. in his arms by loverofgaydragons

Summary:

Naruto was there the night Sasuke left Konoha.

Tags: Angst, No Happy Ending, Hurt No Comfort.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: I sobbed so hard while reading this. It's just so beautiful, it's so beautifully written, it make me choke on sobs, I had to clean my glasses due to the tears, it's amazing. A heartbreak that hurts so good I will let it continue.

38. Time to Smile by hinata22

Summary:

Sasuke is on the verge of leaving the village forever. Naruto has other ideas.

Tags: Boys Kissing, Confession, Happy Ending.

Status: Complete, 1/1/

Thoughts: If you thought the last one was sad, here's a happier version. I read this fic back when I didn't have an AO3 account and would desperately keep the tab open as to not lose it. This fic is heartbreaking in it's beauty and lifting in it's sweet moments. A blessing, this fic is a true blessing.

39. The Master Plan of An Uchiha Husband-To-Be by Watermelonsmellinfellon

Summary:

Uchiha Sasuke is determined to marry his new best friend Naruto so he can share his family with the blond boy. He'll be the best husband ever and Naruto won't want for anything ever again!

Tags: Humor, First Crush, Pre-Relationship, No Uchiha Massacre, Fluff.

Status: Complete, 2/2.

Thoughts: Simply adorable, from start to finish.

40. Unrequited: sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't by KizuKatana

Summary:

Naruto hates to hurt people's feelings. So when Hinata puts him on the spot about dating her, he doesn't want to come straight out and tell her he doesn't like her that way. Instead, he comes up with a poorly thought out idea to tell her he is dating someone already. All he needs to do to convince her is to show her a photo of the guy. He just needs to get a picture of someone so ridiculously hot she will know it's hopeless. He actually has someone in mind, a guy he'd had a one-sided thing for from his gym. Although, the guy is sort of an ass and probably wouldn't agree to posing for a picture. Naruto decides to ask him anyway. What's he got to lose?

Tags: Fluff, Unrequited Love Or Is It?, Humor, Cute.

Status: Completed, 1/1

Thoughts: Absolute blast, had a lot of fun reading this!

Aight, that's it for now.

#sasunaru #naruto x sasuke #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #sasuke x naruto #sasunaru fic recs #SasuNaru #SasuNaru fic recs #ao3 fanfics #ao3 fanfiction #fic recommendation #fic rec #fanfic reccomendation

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bambisnc · 3 months

Text

birthday surprise ₊˚.

pairing : taehyun x reader genre : flufffff w a cute wrapping of crack <3 cw/tw : ty panics a lil bit + beomgyu is made to do labour /j + minor swearing + use of caps wc : 783 w (wrote this in one sitting a day before my bio prac hehe) notes : HO LEE SHIT i'm having exams still but ugh how could i not write a lil soemthing for tyun my lil boba eyed bee eff's birfhday 😍🫶 (posting this as soon as it's 00.00 on 5th by my timezone)

when you act super distant with taehyun around a week before his birthday, he’s confused. about your behavior, of course but also his own. he's not like this, he's the rational one, the one with the braincell so why is he overthinking this so much? you're probably just planning something for his special day, he knows that but.. he can't help but feel paranoid.. what if he’s just being conceited in thinking so? what if something's seriously wrong??

then just 3 days before the awaited day you call him up sounding all worried - saying there's an emergency and you have to leave asap and he's left reeling with shock. what do you mean an emergency?? is there a problem at work or at your uni? or worse, did something happen to someone in your family-? he can’t focus at all, practice, meetings with the manager, even his sleep is completely consumed by thoughts of you (though that’s.. not really new~)

and then it's finally the eve of the much, much awaited day. he really wasn't expecting anything, opting instead for an early night. his members were seemingly busy with a "project", which was highly suspicious and should’ve immediately raised alarm, is what he would say if you asked him later and you know, he would've caught onto it right then but busy schedules added to the constant worry about all the upcoming events and ofc you had dulled his senses considerably

but at 11.51 sharp, as if on cue, he hears his shrill ringtone from where it is kept next to his bed. it's beomgyu.

“taehyun, dude”, he says, “there's um,.. an issue. uh, yeah no it's a huge problem. we need everyone in the practice room like right now.” by now of course, taehyun did feel pretty sure of the fact that his members had something planned.. i mean “an issue at the practice room”? c'mon that was a classic, he'd literally used that same line on yeonjun's birthday last year. he’s about to let beomgyu know of this but then he hears their manager in the background.. shit okay, maybe there's actually something wrong? briefly affirming that he’ll be there, he haphazardly dresses and makes his way to the practice room...

...only to find the room dark, as he opens the door and walks in, extremely wary of his surroundings. making his way to the light switches he soon discovers emptiness. the room was completely empty. what the fuck.

he honestly felt so dazed, he couldn't help but just sit himself on the couch, somewhere between wondering if this was a dream and if not wondering why his members chose to inflict such weird pranks (?) upon him. he remains there for a good 45 ish minutes before he hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps and people, whispering in a way that was not quiet at all.

"shit why're the lights already on??" "oh yeah i called taehyun and told him to come down!!" "what. beomgyu we haven't set up anything. the cake is literally in my hands right now. you're literally holding the decorations??" "oh. huh." "gyu holy shit how could you not know????" "I SWEAR TO GOD." "guys shut up we can still salvage this if we just-"

and taehyun finds himself face to face with a shocked huening kai, an extremely guilty-looking beomgyu, you with so much disappointment adorning your face that one would think this was your surprise party being ruined and rather furious looking soobin and yeonjun.

i'm sure you can picture how the rest of the "surprise" party went. taehyun making some colorful, weirdly specific yet affectionate threats to everyone, you especially - having him worrying over nothing for a whole week, how could you?! he discovers that their manager had been persuaded by all of you to record a little audio clip you could play over call, just to make taehyun a little extra worried and a little less suspicious. well. at least, that definitely worked out huh?

but later when he has his arm around you as you cut the cake into delicate slices and beomgyu attempts to decorate the whole room single handedly, as was chosen to be his punishment, with the rest of his members, offering birthday wishes, sharing past anecdotes of various such mishaps (and it is undoubtable that there were a lot), laughing and playing about, he can't help but think maybe he prefers this more than he would a "perfect" surprise.

next year though, as he tells each of you multiple times, he'd rather it not be a surprise at all. with a smile that quite clearly said that it was very much not up for debate.

[check out my masterlist for more <3]

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directdogman · 7 months

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Hey dogman, idk if you answered this

Who, out of both DSAF and Dialtown, was your favourite to write and/or create?

It's very hard for me to pick favourites with my characters because I don't tend to give characters a lot of screen-time unless I find a character interesting or fun to write. You've caught me in a talkative mood, so warning, there's an onslaught of text coming!

DSaF: Dave was the most fun to write for, as I remember it. I mean, the guy is the walking personification of chaos and even when he's being constructive (eg, rigging robots to do insane stuff), it's usually in a destructive capacity. Dave will do LITERALLY ANYTHING but contribute to society in meaningful/valuable ways.

In terms of what character-writing I was most 'proud' of, I was also pretty happy with Dr Henry Miller, as a villain. Namely the research he embarked on, described in his logs in DSaF 3 (which the fandom evidently agreed with, as I got really strong feedback on those logs.)

One issue a lot of people (including myself) have with canon William Afton is that he's this kind of mad scientist character but his research doesn't really seem to be... idk, going anywhere? Other than using remnant (soul nectar?) to make kids possess robots, it's kind of a mystery how he got to this point he did from running a bad fast food restaurant. William gets fleshed out motivations in TSE and even then, it mainly revolves around his relationship with Henry Emily, iirc. It's actually pretty accurate to how real serial killers think, imo, but there's a pretty wide berth between this kind of serial killer and becoming a sci-fi fast-food mad scientist... So, I decided to try to bridge that gap.

DSaF Henry's logs actually mention where the idea for his research came from, namely the fact that he existed in a world with normal scientific rules just like ours and seemingly discovered something supernatural, and he approaches it like an amoral scientist would - trying to figure out how to figure out more about the fabric of reality using the newly discovered phenomenon of possession. The 'joy of creation' phrase people pulled from Golden Freddy's phone call in FNaF 1 is given context - Henry is trying to find out what's on the other side (and eventually, how existence itself formed.)

There's other aspects to his character that make him more interesting too, like the implication that his research is partially an excuse for him to act on an underlying sadism (with scenes implying that he inflicts damage on others than can't be justified as assisting with his research.) His background as a dissident/quack laughing-stock scientist (thanks to pushing his soul theory in a best-selling book, which is considered pseudoscience) BEFORE he embarked on his journey to become a fast food tycoon also makes it less farfetch'd that he'd be capable of y'know, harvesting human souls intentionally to continue his research?

I had more for the character on paper that people haven't seen but some of it wasn't revealed due to it feeling a bit too disturbing to publish. None of the contents would've been all that controversial, more just too tonally disturbing when written about in detail (like a omitted part from his backstory/lore post where he managed to pick up a hazy audio of his wife + son's crying from the radio of the car his wife/son drowned in and reacted with genuine elation upon realizing he'd discovered a new scientific phenomenon (as this was the first time Henry witnessed soul-possession.)) Yeah.

I don't feel much of a need to revisit Henry as a character because as a series villain, he was pretty thoroughly-written and he did his job effectively... And his fate was well earned! (He even got an epilogue short-story a few years back, further cementing his fate!)

Dialtown: From the characters/writing that the fandom has seen? Tough to say. I genuinely really like every DT character. Gingi and Mayor Mingus are two of my favourite characters to write for because they're both really insistent and react to adversity in a really comically indignant way. Mingus is more like Gingi than she cares to admit in very specific ways, which is the core hypocrisy of her character - she's one of the most abnormal things IN Dialtown, and spends the game on a quest opposing abnormality that she, herself, can't stand.

Many absolute rulers have debilitating physical and/or mental cruxes and despite that, usually have the final say on what is/isn't okay, often guided by arbitrary preferences. It's funny to remember all of the ancient kings and emperors who dictated how others should act, talk and even think, when very many of them themselves were anything except a good reflection of their own subjects! It's an irony I quite enjoy and leads to a fun character to write for!

My favourite DT writing is probably some of my Callum Crown speech drafts. I have a definite bias here since Crown's character is based on many figures I've encountered in my own reading (and his story relates to topics I enjoy reading about.) A lot of that is real nerd shit that wouldn't be interesting to 99.9% of DT fans (like a long conversation where Crown + Milt discuss a campaign speech Milt wrote for Crown and they bicker about if the wording/arguments used are truly honest.) Again, not super relevant to Dialtown-proper, but it explains a lot about why the world of DT ended up the way it did.

Realistically, the story of Dialtown itself is basically a weird little epilogue to a story that ended decades upon decades ago, centered around a bunch of small-town nobodies circling around the carcass of the last surviving main character of the old story.

I'm also very happy with Gingi's character partially because I know more about Gingi's past/future than you guys do. Gingi has such rotten memory that Gingi's backstory before DT's story begins is basically a complete mystery. Thanks to Gingi never getting close enough to any humans before laying its eggs, there's nobody in Gingi's life that can fill in the gaps. Companionship means so much to Gingi because prior to meeting The Gang, Gingi is aware of a massive and unknown block of time that's a complete mystery precisely because Gingi had nobody in its life. To Gingi, this time was basically akin to being non-sentient or dead, and Gingi would never go back.

While I was making DSaF, I drafted a ton of other stories on paper. I considered making most of them, but decided not to for various reasons, despite getting some solid feedback from collaborators. Bits of almost all of those project ideas made it into DT, with Gingi having traits from several other main characters I prototyped years and years ago. This includes where Gingi came from and what exactly Gingi is. I don't want to mislead people into thinking Gingi is more important than it is, like Gingi is the key to unlocking DT lore (I promise there's a LOT of aimless scuttling/devouring in Gingi's past and relatively little else!) BUT: Of everything from those old scrapped projects, Gingi is what I decided deserved to survive the most. And that has to count for something.

One day I'd love to make sequels to DT and perhaps explore some of the stuff I've described above, like why the hell the world of DT is the way it is or maybe where the hell Gingi spawned from. Thanks

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