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#i posted about my fic that i wrote
stevebabey · 4 months
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have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3
Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.
In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.
Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.
She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.
And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.
So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?
The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.
So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.
Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.
Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.
7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.
This was his Friday night plans.
His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—
“Hi.”
Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.
Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.
Holy shit, this dude was hot.
He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.
He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.
“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.
God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?
The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.
Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?
“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.
He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.
The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”
Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.
“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.
“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”
“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.
Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”
Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.
“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”
He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—
“Can I get you two started with anything?”
The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.
“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.
“What? Not a milkshake man?”
Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”
Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”
Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.
“Did you just order for me?”
“Did you just diss milkshakes?”
Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.
“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.
“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”
Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.
“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”
Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.
“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”
Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?
Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.
“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.
The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.
Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.
Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”
Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.
The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.
Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.
"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"
His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.
"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."
Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.
"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."
Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.
Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.
"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."
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dapper-lil-arts · 28 days
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You try to do a favor for a friend, but
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chrxnicdaydream · 26 days
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hc that Dazai made a point of calling Chuuya small when they met because Dazai was used to being the small one.
like, finally there was someone shorter than him. because let’s be real, Dazai was barely taller than Chuuya in Fifteen.
i think people forget how small Dazai was too— not just in height, but also in weight. He was underweight in Dark Era, but in Fifteen & even at present he's barely within the healthy weight range for his height. he was constantly described as a twig in Fifteen, and almost every time he's introduced in the light novels he's called lanky, slender, etc.
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delta-piscium · 10 months
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Steddie | 1.7k words it is (swedish) midsummer so I wrote this based on my favorite old tradition because I can and will make anything steddie, so like glad midsommar (happy midsummer)
“What are you doing?” Steve asks as he follows Eddie to the hallway where he’s frantically putting on his shoes. 
“I almost forgot,” he mutters under his breath not acknowledging Steve at all.
“Forgot what?” 
“I can’t believe I almost forgot.” 
“Eddie,” Steve says a little louder, more adamant.
He does look up at Steve then and almost looks surprised to see him. As if he’d forgotten he was there, as if they haven’t been hanging out for hours. 
“Oh,” he says. “Uhm,” he squints at Steve who waits for him to continue, to explain. He doesn’t.
“Yes?” Steve implores because he would really like an explanation. Eddie had just abruptly stood up halfway through telling Steve about some folklore he’s using in his new campaign, just cut himself off mid-sentence and walked off. Steve doesn’t think it’s especially weird or demanding of him to have questions. 
“Did you have other plans that you just now remembered?” Steve frowns, starting to feel unsure when Eddie still isn’t saying anything. It’s just past eleven at night and Steve doesn’t know what plans those would be but he had showed up unannounced earlier in the evening so it’s not impossible that Eddie had plans that Steve interrupted. 
“No, no, no,” Eddie assures him finally breaking his silence, “it’s- okay it’s a little silly but I read this thing researching and I want to try it.” 
And well, okay then.
Steve raises his eyebrows and waves his hand gesturing for Eddie to go on. 
Eddie’s cheeks turn a light pink and he resolutely looks somewhere above Steve’s shoulder instead of at him. 
“Midsummer, which is today, is supposed to be this magical night and there are all these traditions and old myths about it.” 
Eddie glances at Steve and he smiles. Tries to show he’s listening and wants to know whatever thing Eddie read about. 
“And well, okay so there’s this one tradition where you pick seven different kinds of flowers before you go to bed and then put them under your pillow and you’re supposed to dream about who you’re gonna spend your life with.” 
Steve blinks, wasn’t expecting that and doesn’t know what to say about it, so, he blinks again. 
“Maybe it’s dumb, but with all we’ve seen magic and folklore don’t seem so far-fetched and,” he shrugs, “I wanna try. And like, it’s close to midnight and I don’t know if that’s a rule but I don’t wanna risk messing it up.”
“It- huh,” Steve frowns slightly and looks at his shoes then back at Eddie. “Yeah alright, let’s do it. Can’t hurt right?” 
His voice is light, like it’s not a big deal and just a fun thing Eddie read about because that’s what it is, isn’t it? But something about it settles deep in Steve’s gut. Makes it feel important in a way he’s not sure he could explain if he tried. Maybe it’s just the fact that Eddie is getting so worked up about the possibility of dreaming about the person he’s gonna spend his life with when Steve maybe a little bit wishes it would be him, but like, only a little. 
Eddie looks at him with wide eyes like he didn’t expect Steve to want to join, like maybe he expected Steve to make fun of him for wanting to do it. But then something seems to switch in him and a slow smile spreads over his face and he gives Steve an exaggerated once over. 
“Looking to find your true love huh, Harrington?” 
“I thought you said it was the person you spend your life with, not the same as true love necessarily.” Steve quips back because technicalities are easier to argue over than answering that question, especially when Eddie is the one asking.
Eddie shrugs. “Different sources say different things, sometimes it’s true love sometimes it’s who you marry.” 
“Well, then I guess we’re both looking to find our true loves?” Steve hedges, drags Eddie down with him if they’re gonna go there. 
A soft look passes Eddie’s face before a responds, voice quieter. “Guess we are, yeah.” 
They pick their flowers in silence, something about the magic being broken if you speak. Walking around the edge of the woods behind Eddie’s trailer a couple of feet apart, every once in a while coming together or crossing paths. 
After, Steve stands in between Eddie’s trailer and his own car. Holding on to his bouquet of seven flowers unsure what to do. He could go home, he should go home, but he doesn’t want to. He did have some beers hours ago and if he was allowed to speak he’d use that as an excuse to not drive and ask Eddie to crash on his couch. Right now he can’t though so he sighs inwardly and turns to his car. 
He makes it about two steps before a hand reaches out and grips him around his free wrist stopping him. When he turns around Eddie is giving him a look that very clearly says ‘stop being stupid’ and jerks his head towards the trailer silently telling Steve to go with him. He doesn’t let go though and uses his grip on Steve to drag him along like he can’t be sure Steve will actually listen and follow. As if Steve would ever not follow Eddie. 
They quickly get ready for bed. And again when Steve walks toward the couch Eddie grabs him and shakes his head. He waves his arms around a bit like that’s supposed to explain anything but Steve isn’t too bothered about an explanation anyways and easily follows Eddie to his bedroom. 
They’ve shared a bed before but always when they’ve been drunk or high so this feels different. Steve is a little glad they can’t speak or he’s sure he’d blurt out something way too revealing about it all. 
He avoids looking at Eddie as he tucks his flowers in under his pillow, knows Eddie is doing the same next to him. Is aware of it only being an old myth from a region halfway across the world but there’s a weight to it. Something real and tangible. 
He expects it to take a while for him to fall asleep like it always does. For him to twist and turn and lay awake until the early morning. For once though, that doesn’t happen. With the weight of Eddie next to him and to the sounds of his soft breathing and small movements, Steve falls asleep.
And he dreams. He dreams of big brown eyes and bright laughter. Of wild hair and warm arms embracing him. He dreams of growing old next to someone and how every wrinkle on their face tells a story of their shared love. 
He wants to stay in the dream forever, desperately tries to hold onto it even as he floats into consciousness. He turns and groans, gets a mess of someone’s hair in his mouth and nose and that’s enough to startle him into full wakefulness. 
Eddie grumbles next to him, clearly also just waking up. Steve looks at him, with his wild hair and his big brown eyes that are slowly blinking open and of course. Of course, it was Eddie he dreamed about.
Their eyes meet and Eddie freezes. Eyes widening as he looks back at Steve. 
“Oh,” he says. 
And yeah, oh.
“Eddie?” Steve asks, unsure of how to bring it up, to ask about it. If he even should? 
He puts on a teasing smile, even though he feels like goo inside, but making it lighthearted is all he can think of because what if he’s taking this whole thing way too seriously? Jumping to conclusions? 
“Dream of anyone?” 
Eddie nods and looks away, “I did.” He says it simply, voice careful. 
And maybe it isn’t just Steve.
“Who?” He asks, dropping the teasing tone. 
Eddie swallows and looks back at Steve. “The person I wanted to dream of,” he says and it’s not really an answer but he’s looking at Steve so intently he thinks it still might be. 
He thinks about Eddie’s quiet but delighted surprise at Steve wanting to join him yesterday. About Eddie dragging him first into his trailer and then into his bed. How they’re so close on Steve’s side of the bed and Eddie must have drifted towards him in his sleep.
He bites his lip to stop his smile from spreading too wide, there’s still a chance he’s misinterpreting things, “yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
“And who would that be?” Steve asks, leaning in even closer until he feels Eddie’s small puffs of breath across his face. 
“You,” Eddie whispers but Steve hears it clearly. 
He takes a moment to bask in it, to let it wash over him before he responds.
“That’s good,” Steve tells him eventually and Eddie’s eyes are so wide and open, and so pretty, “because I dreamt of you.” 
He knows it’s cheesy so he doesn’t give Eddie time to respond, just leans in and closes the remaining gap between them. Slots their lips together. Eddie gasps into the kiss, grabs Steve by the hair, and pulls him in. Makes all these cute noises that make Steve want and want and want. 
He shifts, goes to put his leg in between Eddie’s to move on top of him and get a better angle. But he only gets halfway before Eddie grabs his hips and twists them around. Pushes Steve flat on his back and straddles him. 
He grins down at Steve. 
“You think the Scandinavian magic worked or was it just dream psychology and wishful thinking?” 
“Does it matter?” Steve asks, way too earnestly. But like, they’ve just spent this whole time doing some true love magic so he thinks it’s fine, “got what I wanted.” 
“It’s forever though,” Eddie points out, bending down to bite at Steve’s jaw, “if we believe the old Norse people.” 
Steve hears the question there, thinks this might be Eddie’s way of asking what this means to Steve. His way of telling Steve this isn’t just a hookup for him.
“God yeah,” Steve exhales, “I fucking hope so.” 
He feels Eddie smile into his neck and grabs his hair, uses it to pull him back and steer him into another kiss. 
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bitterie-sweetie · 2 months
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Fake it til you make it
Pairing: Jeonghan x reader Genre: fluff, fake dating WC: 6.5k Warnings: alcohol A/N: yes it's about vday buuut it's actually for @syuperseventeen's bdayyy!!! surprise surprise! happy birthday nat, i hope this year is even better and filled with many things to look forward to <3
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Your Valentine’s date with Jeonghan is coming up and yet the only thing on your mind is how to break up with him. Of course breaking up with someone is difficult, but you’d argue that what’s more difficult is breaking up with someone you never even dated.
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Jeonghan is a prankster. 
Growing up, you’d often be on the receiving end of his pranks at school. Third grade “initiation” had you drenched in water after he told you to pin a cup against the wall with a straw, and in ninth grade you had tears streaming down your face after eating an entire scoop of wasabi—not the matcha ice cream he said it was. Then there was the time he did something to make your first crush hate you, which, in hindsight, was a good thing because the guy turned out to be a total asshole. 
It wasn’t Jeonghan’s fault entirely when you were too willing to fall for his pranks because being the target of a prank meant having his attention, and that’s something that you wanted. Jeonghan had a way of making everyone feel special, and his attention was a limelight that you never wanted to step out of. 
Honestly, you might’ve kept up with it if he kept going. But then that fateful day came and it was like you were suddenly on his side, working with him instead of being the victim to his antics, and you’d say that that’s what has kept the two of you together after all these years. 
Well, at least until now.
“Hey,” you greet in a rush, looking around the table at everyone and seeing that you’re truly the last one to arrive. Usually, you’d give that place to Lee Chan; he’s the most popular of your friend group and almost always has a prior appointment to your meetups. “Sorry I’m late. My train was delayed and—oh, did you already order for me?” 
Jeonghan slides a sealed bubble tea across the table and sets it in front of your seat—the one empty chair right beside him, no less. When you glance at him questioningly he shrugs and tilts his head towards the crowd at the front. “The line was too long so I ordered yours with mine. Hope you’re feeling like your usual today.” 
Indeed, the sticker on the cup shows that it’s your go-to order. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Thanks, babe.” 
Today’s meet up with your friend group is the first of the year and it’s also the first time you’re seeing everyone since Chan’s wedding… including Jeonghan. You would’ve spent Christmas and New Year’s with him had he not cancelled on you, and now that bit of distance has manifested into a larger uncertainty for you over the past while. Even now, the ‘babe’ seemed to come out awkwardly, sticking to your throat.
“Wow, you guys are actually disgusting. I hope you know that.” Seungkwan makes a face at you, and beside him, Soonyoung nods a few times in agreement. 
You plaster on a smile. “It’s okay to just say you’re jealous.” 
The only response you get is an eye-roll from Soonyoung, and then everyone moves on, thankfully. Mingyu asks you what you’ve been up to so you talk about your recent promotion at work and some new habits you’ve started in the new year, and when you sense that the conversation is starting to approach the territory of your future with Jeonghan, you gently steer it towards Chan. After all, he’s the one that got married just a few months ago, and you know he would never miss the chance to talk about his amazing honeymoon and how great this new chapter of his life is going.
There is truly nothing like adult friendships and its quarterly updates. 
Once there’s a bit of a lull in the conversation, Jeonghan turns to you. “What are you doing this week?” 
“Oh, this week?” Your heart speeds up tenfold at the uncertainty of what might come next. “Hmm well, it’s Valentine’s Day.” 
“Yeah, exactly.” He nods and much to your relief, there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. “So I’ll see you for our date then?” 
“Of course, babe.” 
“Can’t you guys do this somewhere else?” Soonyoung says as he stares daggers in your direction. You totally understand and sympathize with that though; today you’re turning up the sweetness more than usual to compensate for the distance you actually feel, unfortunately at the expense of your friends.
Jeonghan completely ignores Soonyoung’s complaint and doesn’t even look his way. “That’s good,” he says, leaning back in his seat and almost looking relieved at your answer. “I was afraid my darling might not have time for me anymore.”
“What? No way. Did you have anything in mind for our date?” 
“Hmm, yes but it’s a surprise. I’ll text you the details later.” 
“Well, uh, I have to run,” Chan says, slowly getting up from his seat. The rest of you hardly bat an eye, having gotten too used to his busy schedule. “It was nice seeing everyone. You guys should come over for my housewarming once everything is set up.” 
Mingyu stands up too. “Oh, I actually have to go too; got a dinner with Wonwoo later.” 
…On second thought, perhaps you overcompensated a bit too much with the cringe. Soonyoung and Seungkwan leave soon after getting a call from their roommate, Seokmin, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan at the table. Still seated side by side, your arm occasionally brushing against his. 
“How have you really been?” he asks in a low voice. 
“Decent, I guess, despite the winter blues and all. It’s pretty much what I said earlier.” You shrug when he remains silent. “Why do you ask? Do I look depressed or something?”   
“No,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “not depressed, exactly, but I wanted to see if you’re as sad as I am about not seeing each other in so long.” Then he leans in a bit closer, as if to whisper a secret. “I missed you, darling.”
It’s times like this when you feel like he’s toeing the line. There’s a small smile lingering on his lips and a softer look in his eyes, not at all like the overdone sweetness to the point of sarcasm from before, but you can never tell if he really means what he says or if this is just part of the act. 
Regardless, it makes your face feel hot and it makes you unable to look directly at him. 
“Oh… yeah,” you say, trying to make a quick recovery. “It’s too bad we missed out on the holidays but at least we get Valentine’s Day.” 
“Yup, that’s exactly why I have something special in mind for that day. I want to make it up to you, darling.” 
You give him a smile and then go to take a sip of your drink, and that’s pretty much the end of the conversation. Despite saying he misses you, it’s interesting how he doesn’t explain why he bailed on the holidays in the first place, and you don’t know whether you should ask about it at this point.
Or if you should even be curious about such a thing. 
Jeonghan pulls you out of your thoughts with a brush of his hand on yours. “It’s getting dark. Let’s head out?” 
You agree and then let him hold your hand, lace his fingers with yours, and then lead you out of the shop. He doesn’t let go until you cross the parking lot and get to his car. It’s strange, you think. You can’t seem to recall the last time the two of you held hands so naturally like this especially when there’s no one else around. 
In fact, when the two of you are alone, the sickening sweetness is always toned down but not completely dropped. Now, Jeonghan’s smiles are softer around the edges like they’re less exaggerated, less of a performance, and when he calls you darling, his voice is quieter and isn’t at all coated in the sticky honey you’re used to. When he hugs you goodbye at your door, it’s a loose hug and almost has a degree of uncertainty. 
Jeonghan steps back but lingers just for a second. “I’ll see you in a few days for our date, darling.”
“Of course,” you put on a smile, “I can’t wait, babe.” 
He waits until you get into your building before giving a little wave and then heading on his way. 
After you close the door behind you and collapse onto your bed, you heave a sigh and finally let the smile slip from your lips. So there would be a Valentine’s date this year after all; the anticipation makes your heart speed up the slightest but at the same time makes you all the more anxious. You thought that he really would end things today, and if not, that you should be the one to do so. But seeing him after so long, feeling the way the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin, basking in the brightness of his smiles, you simply couldn’t utter those words. 
Perhaps Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be the right time to do it either, or maybe your date won’t end up happening for whatever reason. You know that this is something you have to do, but the question is how exactly would you go about doing it? Because there is one major problem. 
You’re not dating Jeonghan at all. 
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One moment in high school is what started this whole thing.
It was eleventh grade drama class—which Jeonghan thought would be fun to take as an elective—that resulted in the two of you being cast in the school play. Although neither of you landed a role that was remotely close to important, Jeonghan decided to have fun with it and improvise during your one minute of screen time and that somehow turned your insignificant cameos into a beautiful romance that had the audience rooting for you. 
And that very moment somehow managed to embed itself so deeply in your relationship with Jeonghan that it became a long running joke to this day. 
Today you’re sitting across from Soonyoung and Seungkwan again, with Mingyu beside you this time. Almost an exact replica of last week’s meetup, but Chan already has plans and Jeonghan is very obviously missing—something Soonyoung points out immediately.
“Wow, no Jeonghan today?” he says loudly even before the hostess is out of earshot. The people at the two tables nearby glance in your direction and you start to regret coming here at all. “We really won this one. Y/N, we should do this more often.” 
You definitely should not. “Um, yeah. Totally.” 
Last week’s meeting with your friends is what gave you the idea to consult with them about your situation. You first suggested the idea to Mingyu, and then used the prospect of free food to get Soonyoung and Seungkwan to come out, and naturally, Chan is busy so it ends up being the four of you at brunch. Which is better on your wallet, you think. You get the feeling that this quarterly meetup can totally happen more often if you were to make this offer every time. 
As for what you’re about to ask… well, truthfully, you still don’t know if you should even do it. You’ve gone so many years without saying a word that it’d simply be odd to ask now, plus you would run the risk of making everything weird. But if you don’t do it, you would only end up making it weird anyway because how much longer can you go on pretending?
Besides, it’s not only you and Jeonghan who are prolonging this inside joke for way longer than it should’ve lasted. All of your friends should be in on it if they treat the two of you like a couple too. 
The waiter comes by to take your orders, and you try not to wince at the entire list that comes out of Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s mouths. Mingyu gets the least, seemingly knowing that something is up if the worried glances he throws your way is anything to go by. 
Once the waiter leaves, that’s when the small talk stops and all eyes turn to you.
“So what did you want to talk about?” Soonyoung asks with a goofy grin. “Since Jeonghan’s not here, does that mean you need help with Valentine’s Day plans or something?” 
Beside him, Seungkwan has the complete opposite expression as he eyes you warily between sips of his americano.
You take a huge swig of water like it’s liquid courage, and then go for it. “This is going to sound weird…” you start, trying not to notice the way Seungkwan tenses up as if bracing for your words, “but I wanted to ask you guys what my relationship with Jeonghan is.” 
Silence. Complete, dead silence. 
Soonyoung freezes like he’s in a photograph while Seungkwan’s hand holding his americano hangs in mid air as a drop of the drink dribbles down the side of his lip. 
“Sorry, what?” It’s Soonyoung who recovers first. “I think I heard that wrong.” 
You shake your head. “Just tell me.” 
“You’re asking us what your relationship with your own boyfriend is?” 
“Boyfriend—exactly!” You have to hold back all the thoughts you have on the topic. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. So you think he’s my boyfriend? That we’re dating?” 
Soonyoung frowns but it’s Seungkwan who answers, exasperated. “Y/N, what are you trying to say here? Are you trying to say you guys broke up? Or do you think we don’t know you well enough and this is a test? Can you say whatever it is directly—” 
“Jeonghan and I aren’t together.”
There, you said it. Your biggest secret is out.
It should make you relieved to finally let out the secret you’ve been harbouring for years or it should at least alleviate some of the weight on your chest, but it doesn’t. The silence in the wake of your confession only closes in on you and makes it all the more suffocating.
“Any—anymore?”
“No. We were never together.”
The bit of silence from earlier repeats itself. Maybe you should become a speaker or presenter with your ability to draw such reactions from a crowd.
Seungkwan noisily sets down his drink and then leans forward with a frown. He’s still in denial, that much is obvious, and he narrows his eyes as he asks, “Is this a joke? A hidden camera? Are you trying to prank us like Jeonghan—”
“No, I’m completely serious. It’s really not what it seems, and this is why I’m asking you guys what you see us as because at this point I don’t even know the answer myself.” 
With a deep breath, you tell them the truth about this entire thing.
You tell them about the high school play and your impromptu acting, and how that led for the two of you to become the famous couple at school afterwards. Sure, it might’ve been a good thing because that meant your acting was believable. But to two people who were interested in just about anything except love at that age, it was annoying and gross. 
After the show when the shippers wouldn’t stop, the two of you decided to do what you do best—pull a prank. You spent that Valentine’s Day together as a joke and acted extra disgusting to mock couples while making fun of how stupid people were to believe whatever you showed them. In twelfth grade, the two of you did the same for Valentine’s Day and then even went to prom together as a joke. 
In recent years, however, the annual joke of a Valentine’s Day date has turned into his Christmas and your Lunar New Year, his cousin’s graduation, your coworker’s housewarming, and Lee Chan’s wedding. It’s made you on a texting basis with his sister and it’s made him familiar with all your favourite food spots and go-to orders. It’s turned him into someone who’s simultaneously as distant as an acquaintance yet closer than a best friend. 
And so, here you are, living an entire lie because you and Jeonghan had the whole world fooled.
“That’s insane,” Soonyoung says when you finally finish the story, unable to look your way and instead, stares into his drink with how mind blown he is.
Seungkwan, on the other hand, remains a bit skeptical. “Okay, but then what was with all that PDA?All the kissing? Is this some sort of situationship?” 
“Oh, um.” Immediately you can feel your cheeks heating up. You didn’t think this far at all but now it seems like the entire truth will have to come out. “All of it was fake. We’ve… never actually kissed.” 
That drama class has taught you more than you needed to know about manipulating angles and the audience’s perception, and Jeonghan is very good at it. Your fake kisses were often just a trick of the angle or occasionally using the thumb trick, and having seen the evidence captured in photos over the years, you know how convincing it can look.
Now, it’s embarrassing to admit for reasons you never would’ve imagined. Admitting to pulling a childish prank like this is one thing, but the realization that you and Jeonghan have faked it for so long without ever once making it real has you feeling almost dejected.
“I always knew Jeonghan was crazy but I didn’t know he’d be *this* crazy.” Soonyoung now has his head in his hands and is staring off into space. “This is the most insane story I’ve ever heard. I’m not sure if I should be happy for you or sad.” 
You give a wry smile. “Yeah, well, I get why you would think we were together though. You met us in college and wouldn’t have known about what happened in the past so I guess there would never be a reason to question it.” 
Beside you, Mingyu clears his throat and you turn to look at him. He’s been so quiet throughout your story that you were too busy focusing on the reactions of the other two, but looking at him now, his reaction is entirely different. Mingyu isn’t as surprised as he is concerned. “Actually, Y/N, a few years ago…” he says hesitantly, “there was a time when I asked him if you were actually dating.” 
“You did? What did he say?”
“He didn’t deny it.”
“Well, we all know how he loves to be ambiguous and leave things a mystery.”
Mingyu shakes his head. “No—see, that’s what I thought too, but it was different that time. At first he didn’t deny it, but when I pushed a bit more, he said that you’re dating. In actual words and with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on his face.” 
This is news to you. You always assumed that they were all in on the joke and would’ve never guessed that anyone actually asked Jeonghan, but the fact that he answered that way is all the more baffling. 
“I don’t get it. Why would he tell you that?” 
“Yeah, so,” Soonyoung says, “from then on we all thought that was fully confirmed, and he never said or implied otherwise.” 
“Right…”
Mingyu nudges you gently. “Y/N, are you telling us about this now because you’re planning on stopping the act? Has it been bothering you? Or did something happen?” 
“Is that why you wanted to tell us today?” Soonyoung lets out a dramatic gasp and leans all the back in his chair, hands over his mouth. “Don’t tell me—are you going to stop the act because you have a crush on someone?”
“What? No, definitely not. It’s not that, it’s—” 
Here’s the next part of your big secret being revealed, something you weren’t entirely ready for but you tell yourself that this needs to happen. 
It’s because of your feelings for Jeonghan. Your very real, very genuine feelings that have nothing to do with this prank.
Truthfully, you can’t pinpoint when you started feeling this way, much like you’re not sure how this joke was able to stick around for so long. It could be the most recent development—when your friend tried to convince you to hop on a dating app, all you could think about was how wrong it felt because you already had Jeonghan. Or maybe it was the Valentine’s Day just before college graduation when he leaned in so closely you thought he was going to kiss you, for real this time, and then only realizing much later that you were disappointed that it wasn’t real. 
Or perhaps it started way back, to the time he asked you to prom—he said he didn’t have a date only for you to later find out he’d already rejected two promposals from other people. All for your fake relationship, supposedly.
And now, for you, what has started as a harmless prank has turned into something much more than that over the years. 
Everyone looks like they're at a loss for words after that part, and even Soonyoung has lost his enthusiasm after hearing it. “Shit, that’s…” he starts. “Okay, yeah, I’m definitely sad for you.” 
Seungkwan and Mingyu have similar sentiments but you wave them off, eager to lighten the mood again after such heavy topics. The food on the table has been long finished and you’re beginning to feel like you’re overstaying your welcome when there’s a crowd waiting at the front of the restaurant. “It’s fine, it’s whatever. I just wanted to get this off my chest today so that I can figure things out before I see him in a few days.” 
A while later, you finish paying and then all head out together. 
The conversation continues to replay itself in your head, and you realize there is one thing you’re curious about. You turn to Mingyu. “By the way—Mingyu, why *did* you ask Jeonghan if we were actually dating?”
Mingyu stops mid-stride and freezes like a deer in headlights, clearly not expecting your question at all. “I—um, I was asking for a friend.” 
“A friend?”
“Yeah, Chan.” He nods a few times in a row. “I thought Chan had a crush on you and I was trying to help him out.”
Strange, seeing as you’ve probably interacted with Chan the least among your friend group. He’s simply too booked and busy to hang out with you, and has been all throughout your college years together. 
Oh, and he’s married.
“Like, before he met his wife?” you ask.
Soonyoung starts to cough furiously from where he is a few steps ahead while Mingyu’s cheeks redden the slightest bit. 
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You vaguely remember the first time the two of you did this, and how it wasn’t anything like how it’s going now. 
Tonight is the night you’re supposed to go on your date with Jeonghan, and you’ve been buzzing with nerves since the night before. You have no idea what to expect for tonight since all he told you about it was to show up at his apartment, and that in itself was slightly concerning as you’ve never been to his home before nor has he been so secretive about any plans. Usually the two of you would be going to a casual place or would have the schedule shared ahead of time if it was a more formal event that needed preparation. 
Jeonghan buzzes you in when you arrive and before you can say you’ll wait for him in the lobby, he tells you to go up to his unit. Again, a bit strange. You do as he asks though, and then even go to knock on the door when there’s no sign of him coming out.
When he opens the door and steps aside, that’s when everything clicks—you’re not here so that he can get his car and take you to your date location. This *is* the date location.
Beyond the doorway, you can see that his apartment is completely decorated. Rose petals line the sides of the hall and lead to the dining table, covered in a deep red tablecloth and perfectly set for your meal. Beside it, a large bouquet of roses rests at the center of the sideboard surrounded by a row of flickering candles which light up the space.
Even without knowing what his home normally looks like, it’s obvious that all this would’ve taken a lot of effort to set up.
“Jeonghan, why did you prepare all this?”
He gives you a dazzling smile. “Because my darling deserves the best, of course. I told you I was going to make it up to you for cancelling Christmas.” 
“Babe, that’s too sweet of you. You really didn’t have to.” You try to return his smile but it doesn’t come easy when this whole situation is overwhelming. Then you let him take your coat and then guide you to the dining table where everything is set up. 
Only when you’re seated do you realize that his response doesn’t answer your question at all. 
The scent of the roses fill the room and looking at them gives you a pang in your heart. This is what the two of you used to make fun of—these big, romantic gestures, and the couples that willingly eat them up. Now it’s as if the tables have turned and you don’t know what to think. 
If this were in public, in front of your friends or other people, you would’ve said that it was another funny gesture that Jeonghan put up for the sake of making them cringe. Because the two of you were the perfect joking, prankster couple, right? 
Now that it’s just you and him here, it confuses you as to why he’s going to such lengths for a joke when it’s something that no one else would see, when there’s no audience to watch his performance. 
You watch as Jeonghan busies himself in the kitchen, serving the food that he’s prepared and pouring the wine into glasses while glancing your way every once in a while. He looks pleased, you note, and he should be if he got his space to look this beautiful. But you can sense that there’s something else too, almost like a nervousness that sits on his shoulder every time he breezes past you and makes eye contact for the briefest second.
After everything is ready, he finally takes a seat across from you and the dinner begins.
Making small talk is easy at first; you comment on your surprise at this type of date, talk about how cold it’s been lately and how it sucks that your company is forcing you to go back into the office. You ask him how his holiday went and how his family has been, and mention how cute his sister’s new puppy is after seeing a post about it on her social media. 
You know you’re just delaying the inevitable. Somehow you get the feeling he knows it too, judging by the way his answers are shorter than usual and how your conversation feels so superficial. So this time after there’s a lull in the conversation, you decide to go for it.
"Jeonghan, um…"
"Hmm?" He looks at you and waits for you to continue, but you don't. Or rather, you can't. "Ah, you're going to comment on how good this is, right?" he says instead, as if supplying you with a way out.
You're all too eager to grab onto it. "Wow, you read my mind." An enthusiastic nod, a slight look of surprise. "It's amazing. Did you make all this yourself?"
Jeonghan shakes his head and then follows up with a sheepish smile. "Partly. The rest is store bought."
Another nod, and then it just ends there again. Seated in this spot with the soft lighting of flickering candles cast against the wall and the heat of Jeonghan's gaze on you, the feeling of discomfort only grows. It's hard to remember what the two of you were like before, during the days when everything seemed so silly–when each move was a clearly defined act between two actors and the world was your stage. And most importantly, when each smile he showed you didn't send your stomach into somersaults or your mind into a loop of second guessing. 
The air is so heavy and stifling that you grab your glass and down a large gulp of the wine. At least when you're drinking, you wouldn’t have to speak, whether that might be responding to him in a way that gives away all of your thoughts, or completely spilling them out yourself. Maybe the alcohol will also drown out some of your anxieties and–
"Hey, slow down." Jeonghan glances at you with worry. "We have all night."
You set the glass down, albeit a bit reluctantly. "Right, sorry. This wine is just so good."
Yet another lie, but what's one more at this point? The wine is much too sour and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You would've much preferred a soda or bubble tea, and drinking something fancy like this during such a fancy occasion makes you feel like you're pretending to be someone you're not.
Which is exactly what you're doing, isn't it? You've been living a lie this entire time.
You briefly wonder if Jeonghan feels the same way—the two of you have never properly spent time alone in complete privacy, and to have your first time be in such a formal atmosphere must feel strange. But if he's uncomfortable, he makes no sign of showing it. Or maybe he's always been the better actor of the two of you.
“You know, since you mentioned seasonal depression, I was thinking that for Christmas this year we should go somewhere. Somewhere warm and sunny to get away from the cold.”
“Oh, this year?” you repeat stupidly when you can’t quite believe what you’re hearing. Jeonghan wants to continue this thing? And here you were, thinking that he was about to end it at any moment for the past few months. “Um, yeah. That would be nice.” 
“Or it could be a fall trip. Your parents have been wanting to go see the leaves change colour, right?” 
There’s no hint of sarcasm on his face and no playful twinkle in his eye, and even though no one can read him very well, you know enough to tell that he’s being serious. You also know that what he’s saying makes no sense at all.
“Right, yeah. They’ve been wanting to do that.” 
“Y/N, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you reply automatically, and then reach for another long gulp of your drink. “Yup, all good.”
Jeonghan frowns, a tiny crease appearing between his brows. “Are you sure? If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 
It’s strange, the way he looks at you. Jeonghan, who dances around questions and deflects easily with humour and only shows people what he wants them to see, now has worry filling his eyes as he waits for you to continue. As if he *knows*.
You doubt Soonyoung and Seungkwan would have spilled your secret so easily, but there’s a great possibility that the two of them would be unable to act normal around him after what they learned, and unintentionally hint at the truth. Then there’s the other possibility that Jeonghan knew way before any of this. Because maybe he—
No, you don’t want to think about that.
“It’s just that,” you say, having to force yourself to pause and slow down your thoughts before something terrible comes spewing out. A slow inhale, a shaky exhale. “Why are we here, Jeonghan?”
His frown deepens, but now it’s turned into confusion. “What do you mean?”
“What are we doing? This date has been nice, but I’m just very confused over why you put so much effort into this when there’s no one else around to see it. Weren’t we doing all of this as a joke? As a prank? Pretending to be a couple so that we can fool the world since that’s exactly what they wanted to see, but joke’s on them because we’re not?” 
Jeonghan watches you silently with an unreadable look on his face. “Is that how you feel?”
“’Well, yes, because isn’t that the truth? And now, we’ve been doing so much together that it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. How can it be when your mom is offering to give me homemade side dishes? Or—or when Chan’s wife was there, smiling at us on her wedding day like she wished we’d be just as happy as they are?” You pause to look at him and then proceed to look away. “How long are we going to continue lying to the world? Because I can’t stand the guilt.”
The last part of that may be true, but it’s not the full truth. 
“Yeah, you’re right. We don’t have to keep doing this.”
“W—what?” You stare at him, dumbfounded. 
Jeonghan sighs deeply and then meets your eyes, but then quickly looks away. “Yeah, we should’ve left this in high school. The joke has kind of gotten old, hasn’t it?” 
You have no idea what he means by any of that, but it feels like you’re better off not knowing. The tension in the air is thick, and even when you imagined your fake breakup hundreds of times in your head, this is not something you could have predicted. It’s as you’re on a precipice, and one wrong move will delete all those years, all that time you spent with him. 
And the worst part is that you don’t even want to break up.
“Jeonghan, look. I know all of this is supposed to be a joke, but why is it that it feels like you really do care?” One last deep breath before you make the jump. “And why is it that I *want* you to care?” 
That has him stunned for a second, so much that the expression is obvious on his face in a way that almost never happens. 
“Wait, what? I do care. No, I get that we started all this for fun back then, but that’s not how I feel about it now. Everything we’ve done is real—trust me, I wouldn’t have brought you to my family if that wasn’t the case. And I never thought I was lying to them. It’s exaggerated, yes, and much too dramatic, but I’m not a good enough actor where all that can be based on a complete lie.” 
You braced yourself for the final blow, only to be completely confused over his words. “What are you saying?” 
“Y/N, it’s always been real to me. All of it.” 
“But—but I thought you wanted to stop all this when you cancelled our plans for Christmas. Why did you do that?”
Jeonghan opens his mouth a little but then closes it again. “Do you remember last year at Chan’s wedding when you caught the bouquet?” 
You nod but don’t hide your confusion about where this is going.
“After you caught it, everyone was looking at you… and then at me. It was like they all expected us to be next, because well,” he shrugs, “everyone thought we were together. And that’s when I realized that this is more than simply feeling like it’s real. We were turning it into something real.”
“So you called off Christmas because you wanted to stop doing this? Because you hated how it was becoming real?” 
“No,” Jeonghan shakes his head. “The opposite. I was afraid of how much I liked that it felt real. That day at the wedding, I—I wanted to kiss you for real, Y/N. Not have to fake it.” 
“Oh…”
“If we did meet up for Christmas, I don’t know what might’ve happened. I thought it was safer to stay away for a bit and gather my thoughts.” He hesitates slightly and you can see the pained smile he has on. “But one day into the holidays and I was already regretting my decision.” 
You don’t know what to say to that. Your mind is hardly listening anymore when it keeps on repeating Jeonghan’s words like a broken record, screaming to you that it’s real, that all of it is real. That you’re not the only one who’s been feeling this way, and that you won’t need to stage a fake breakup for your fake relationship. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“I’m just—are you sure all this is real? Jeonghan, are you being serious?”
He breaks into a tender smile. “Don’t you remember? I already answered you back then, Y/N.”
“What do you mean?” 
“You asked me if I’d be your darling, even if thousands of miles may separate us, even if—” 
“—if the paths we walk may crumble,” you finish off. “Or something like that. I actually have no idea what we said back then.”
Those were the lines in the play that you did back in high school, the very lines that the two of you conjured out of thin air one day and the very moment that started this whole thing. 
“Yeah, that,” he says softly.
“Hmm, so, babe,” you put on your usual mockingly sweet tone, repeating the line that you said on stage many years ago, “are you going to kiss me?” 
Jeonghan holds back a smile like he can’t contain his happiness, and follows with his line without missing a beat. “If that’s what my darling wants.”
The smile only widens when he gets up from his seat and you go to meet him halfway, and it’s the last thing you see when he leans in closer and closer. Jeonghan gently slides his thumb between his lips and yours as he closes the distance, like how it was done the very first time, but this time you can feel it as he slowly moves it away. 
Then you’re kissing him, actually kissing him for real for the first time. His lips are soft and warm, and the bit of hesitance between you seems to completely melt away as you wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer. You let yourself drown in his scent, the warmth of his touch, and the loud pounding of your heart now that you no longer have to be paying attention to the reactions of the people around you. Nothing else matters anymore, all that matters is what you have now.
You spend the rest of the night catching up, whether that’d be stories over the years of shared memories, or creating new memories to make up for the lost time. He tells you he loves you and that the trip suggestions were very much real, and the two of you laugh over how you’ve become the exact couple you once mocked. It’s easy to understand them now though, you think as Jeonghan gives you a sleepy smile as you’re cuddled up on the couch.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask something,” you say, and he looks at you in alarm at your abruptness. “Why did you tell Mingyu that we were together?”
Jeonghan stays silent for a bit, narrowing his eyes as if having difficulty recalling what you’re talking about. Then he finally answers. “Oh that?” He chuckles. “That was because I didn’t want him to think he had a chance with you.”
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wastefulreverie · 1 month
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girl wake up im writing a no one knows au sequel
“Danny, one of these days you have to tell us what’s up,” Sam said. “You can’t stretch yourself thin like this forever. Whatever your secret life has you doing.” “I don’t have a secret life.” Which is exactly what someone who had a secret life would say, but Danny obviously evaded this with the loophole that was being dead. His secret half-life was also none of their business.
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wikiangela · 18 days
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several sentence sunday
tagged by @hippolotamus
sooo bucktommy won me over, i couldn't resist anymore 🙈 so here's a bit of them after their date lol just to be clear, im still 10000% about buddie but im gonna enjoy this while it lasts bc I feel like this is exactly what buck needs rn lol I just wanna write him be giddy and stupid and flustered about a boy even if that's not eddie haha (also, I didn't get the Tommy hype before but after seeing him everywhere for two days... I get it now 🥵)
___
"(...) We should do this again.” Tommy says, turning fully towards Buck, and Buck’s eyes immediately find his lips. He can’t wait to kiss him again, and this would be the time, at the end of the date, wouldn’t it?
“We should.” Buck nods, licks his lips, eyes darting up to Tommy’s eyes. He’s smiling softly, just looking at Buck. “I-” he starts, and then thinks, fuck it, and this time he makes a move, as he leans across the console to grab Tommy’s chin, like he did Buck’s in his kitchen, and bring him in for a kiss. Tommy immediately reciprocates, and Buck melts against him, and then when Tommy’s calloused hand covers his cheek, it just feels so- so different, in the best way possible. This kiss lasts longer than the first one, each of them constantly coming back for more, but it’s as gentle and tender as that one. Buck loves it, and can’t help smiling into it. He wants more. “Hey.” Buck says, finally pulling away, licks his spit-covered lips nervously. “Do you- do you maybe wanna come in for a beer?” he asks shyly, and at Tommy’s surprised expression and raised eyebrow he realizes it might sound like he’s inviting him for more than a beer, and he panics again. “I- I- I mean, just a beer. And maybe- maybe more of this.” he pecks Tommy’s lips again, not able to resist a smile. “But just a beer. I don’t think I’m- But who knows, maybe-” he stumbles over his words, because the truth is, he wants Tommy, he wants… he wants so much, he wants to experience so much for the first time – it’s just that he’s not sure if it’s not too quick for this relationship, and for him.
“Evan.” Tommy interrupts, bringing his other hand up, now cradling Buck’s face in both, thumbs moving soothingly along Buck’s cheeks. “Your pace, remember? No pressure, no rush.”
“You’re really cool, you know that?” Buck whispers.
“So I keep hearing.” Tommy chuckles, and it’s adorable. He kisses Buck again, and the butterflies in Buck’s stomach go crazy. Fuck, he doesn't remember the last time he felt this giddy and excited and just light. “I’d love to come in for a beer.”
___
no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @bidisasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @tizniz @your-catfish-friend
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osamusriceballs · 8 months
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Last-Minute Plans
Ushijima x fem reader
Warnings: NSFW (cockwarming, rather soft)
Words: ~ 1,5 k
About: Wakatoshi got a ring for you, and he needs to make sure it fits.
A/n: Happy Birthday to our beloved Wakatoshi-kun~
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"It fits,"
he mumbles with a sigh of relief, one he hadn't realized he was holding. He looks contently at the jewelry now adorning your ring finger.
Ushijima knows that he's late with this. He should have attempted this plan a long time ago; he despises last-minute actions. Lately, however, you've insisted on waiting until he returns home late from practice due to extended training sessions just before the crucial match, making it impossible for him to secretly slip that ring onto your finger to see if it fits. He's aware he hasn't been giving you the time you deserve lately, but he's determined to make it up as soon as he can. He intends to spoil you as soon as the match is over and his schedule finally allows him to have more free time, treating you like the princess you are.
He had nearly abandoned the idea of trying the ring on your finger. He considered simply hoping for the best, planning to alter the ring quickly after proposing if it didn't fit. He knows you wouldn't have minded, but he wanted this moment to be perfect. The first difficulty he had encountered, however, was that you had rings in various sizes in your jewelry box- probably for different fingers, but even after sorting through them, he was still not convinced that he chose the right size.
Relief washes over him as he sees the ring fitting comfortably, and for a short moment, he envisions your future together. He dreams of having you sleep beside him every night, of going on the vacation you've always dreamed of, and of giving you the beautiful wedding ceremony you've always wanted. He's already asked Tendou to be his best man and informed his parents of his plans. He even decided to send his father a notice that his son will be getting married soon—hopefully.
The ring looks stunning on your hand. It's noticeable yet subtly elegant. He's confident you'll love it; you've often praised his taste, describing him as simple in his choices, which you adore.
His gaze drifts to your peaceful sleeping form. You must be exhausted not to have woken up yet. Normally, you'd wait until he returns or awaken when he quietly lies down beside you, an act he's yet to master. You'd always greet him with a tender kiss, a gesture he cherishes most during his days and misses the most when he's away. Yet, you sleep soundly, your face soft, breathing steady. You're wearing one of his shirts, the old Shiratorizawa jersey you claim is the comfiest—adorable on you, he agrees.
He's fairly certain you're wearing only flimsy panties beneath, but he'll take his sweet time tomorrow to explore every inch of your body.
"Toshi," your sleepy voice pulls him from his daydreams, and he quickly hides the ring, clutching your hand in his. You stir, turning towards him, brows furrowing as you reach out blindly.
"Y/n, go back to sleep. It's late," he murmurs in a soothing tone, knowing you find his voice calming.
"I missed you," you groan, squinting your eyes as you try to make out his face in the dimly lit room.
"I missed you too," he replies, smiling softly and leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. You smile in return, bringing your free hand to his cheek, a bit clumsily—almost slapping his face, but he doesn't mind; he is simply happy having you close.
"You haven't shaved today," you mumble as you caress his cheek. He hums in response. "I forgot. Does it bother you?"
"No, it doesn't. But you never forget to shave. What was on your mind today?"
You, he thinks, but for once, he refrains from sharing his thoughts. He needs to distract you, to take back the ring unnoticed. How you haven't noticed it so far surprises him.
"I was thinking about…" he begins, his voice trailing off, unsure how to respond without you getting suspicious.
"Wakatoshi, come to bed. You seem really tired," you yawn, and he suddenly knows what he needs to do.
Ushijima leans down to kiss you again, this time deepening the kiss with more passion. He feels your response, your body arching into his touch, your lips moving in sync with his.
"Toshi," you're already breathless after a few kisses, and he finally feels your hand relax, fingers intertwining with his with the metal still on your finger. He typically holds your hand more firmly, but now he keeps his grip gentle, ensuring you don't feel the ring on your finger. With his free hand, he traces the hem of your shirt, his fingers gliding beneath the fabric, encountering the softness of your skin.
"Want you, but I'm tired," you whisper against his lips, prompting him to nuzzle against your neck. "Should I pleasure you? Should I make you feel full?" You moan softly and weakly nod, your eyes barely open in the dark room. Unbeknownst to you, a wave of relief washes over him. This may not be going exactly as he planned, but making love to you with the ring already on your finger is better than he could have imagined.
He quickly runs through potential scenarios in which he could smoothly slide the ring off your finger, deciding to position himself behind you while maintaining a hold on your hand in front of your body. Shifting his body weight, he maneuvers behind you until his chest presses against your back. He skillfully settles beneath the blanket without releasing your hand, making sure not to tighten his grip around your fingers. His lips find your neck, where he places the gentlest kisses against your skin, earning the softest, most beautiful moans from your lips. His hips begin to rhythmically move against your backside, and he feels how he hardens in his pants.
You contently hum while you lean into his touch, raising one leg to allow him to slip his thigh between yours. "Feels good," you murmur as he starts a grinding motion against your pussy. He feels his growing need, a nearly instinctive response to your body. His earlier suspicion about you wearing only his shirt and panties appears accurate; that much he notices when his shorts ride up and his bare thigh grinds against your cunt. As much as he wants the feeling of your bare skin against his, he knows that undressing might raise too much suspicion. Instead, he guides his free hand downward, gently tracing circles against your clothed center.
"You're so perfect. So beautiful. I love you so much," he whispers into your ear, causing you to shudder in his arms. Your grip on his hand tightens, while your other hand softly clutches the sheets. He understands your needs. Grateful that he's still wearing the soft shorts, he pushes them down slightly, quickly freeing his cock.
"Should I use some lube?" he asks, concern lacing his voice, worried about hurting you since he hasn't fully prepared you yet—a truly challenging task when ensuring your hand remains held and he can only use one hand properly.
"Think I'm wet enough," you mumble, and he dips two fingers between your folds to confirm, and he is rewarded with enough arousal to forget about his worries.
As much as he wants to ravish you right now, he knows you would probably drift off to sleep if he makes love to you tenderly—so that's precisely what he does. He gently spreads your legs further with his thigh, allowing his cock to rest between your legs. It has almost become a routine for him to set aside your panties and gradually ease his cock inside you- a practice that you often do after he comes home late from his practice sessions.
A breathy moan escapes your lips at the stretch, and he feels his own body tensing at the sensation of your soft walls around him. He continues to push until he's fully inside of you. You always take him so well—it feels breathtaking to be buried deep inside you. He still hopes you'll succumb to sleep in this embrace, even though he's surely wide awake himself.
"Feels good," you hum, your breathing gradually returning to a steady rhythm. He pulls you closer, inhaling the soothing flowery scent of your hair- a scent that always brings him comfort and calms his mind when he can't seem to rest. You might not fully grasp how much he loves you—how every fiber of his being yearns for you, how he wishes for you to be happy and to be his. This is precisely why he plans to propose to you tomorrow and to place the ring back on your finger. You wouldn't refuse him on his birthday, would you?
"Sleep well, my love."
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shima-draws · 3 months
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One Piece where everything’s the same except Cora doesn’t die but Law’s still determined to absolutely beat the shit out of Doflamingo anyway. Cut to post Dressrosa where Law gets a VERY frantic phone call from Cora who’s like what the actual FUCK I saw the newspaper this morning you went up against Doffy all by yourself?? You promised me we would do this together you little SHIT do you have any idea how fucking scared out of my MIND I was when I saw the headline and I thought something happened to you, Law I swear to god, and Law’s like yes Cora I went up against him by myself, like HELL I was going to let him lay a single finger on you. And Cora’s like THAT’S MY LINE!!! You’re MY kid and I should be the one protecting YOU!! And Law’s like what with your shitty devil fruit powers? What could you have done? You would have fallen on your ass and gotten hurt or shot or worse and I’d be too fucking worried about you to focus on anything else. And Cora’s like this conversation is NOT over but I’m so so glad you’re okay. And he starts crying and he’s like oh my GOD Law you know how insane Doffy is I could have lost you. And I wouldn’t have even known until after the fact. And Law goes all quiet and he’s like I know I’m sorry but I could have lost YOU and I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t. And Cora’s sobbing and he’s like I love you so much Law and Law’s like yeah. I love you too 🥺
Meanwhile the Strawhats witnessed this entire conversation and they’re like. Wow okay that was a lot to unpack. Law’s got a dad and they’re very protective of each other and apparently his dad is Doflamingo’s brother?? And Law literally dismantled Doflamingo’s entire criminal organization and DIDN’T bother telling his dad about it?? No wonder he’s pissed. And they’re also like awwwww we’ve never seen Law so soft and vulnerable before 💕 and Law looks at them and he’s like. You repeat ANY of what you just heard and I WILL kill you. And they’re like ‘Mhmm okay yup we hear you loud and clear. Btw what’s your dad like’ with the BIGGEST shit eating grins and Law’s like Okay! Killing you now!! And proceeds to chase them with his katana
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nkogneatho · 5 months
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reminder that numbers and notes do not define your writing. i want you to stop limiting yourself. when you write freely, you don't care about how it will do on tumblr or how many notes it will get. you do it for yourself because you always wanted to write it. trust me on this because the best fic i've written is at 227 notes but a random headcanon got 13k. but you know what? in the end, i always find myself thinking about the reblogs and comments under the 227 one. so don't let the numbers get to your head. you are amazing.
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astrobei · 4 months
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it's my time coming
Will scowls. “Not funny,” he says for a third time. “Go away.” Mike drops the stick unceremoniously. It falls to the damp forest floor, tumbling over itself before coming to a stop, splashing a few drops of water onto the hem of Will’s pants. “Okay fine,” Mike says. “I’ll bite. What’s your deal?” The other fact of the matter is this: tomorrow, Will is going to walk into the Upside Down and not look back. Tomorrow, he is either going to kill Vecna or die trying — and Mike is not going with him.
Even the actual apocalypse had to end sometime, but Will didn’t exactly expect it to happen like this.
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crybaby-bkg · 4 months
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cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism
as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.
Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.
it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.
“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.
“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”
his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.
and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.
the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.
the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.
“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.
“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.
he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.
“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.
“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.
“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.
“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.
“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.
you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.
is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?
“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”
you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?
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pizzaqueen · 11 months
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464 words of pre-slash pining fluff for day one of @steddie-week / rated G or T
It’s not as tight a fit in the listening booth as Eddie hoped it would be, but it does get him closer to Steve than he’s been all day. (Well, except for when he draped himself all over Steve at their table in the food court, or when they were pressed close in the photo booth, Eddie goading Steve into making goofy faces, or when their knees were resting together at the movies earlier.)
But they’re in their own bubble here. The rest of the world completely shut out. Just the two of them, one set of headphones, and a song shared between them.
Eddie has the album at home, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Steve knows that, but he didn’t resist when Eddie dragged him in here with one hand curled around Steve’s wrist, the other clutching the album they’re listening to now.
The song is so familiar and it fades to the background as Eddie watches Steve sidelong; the drums keep time with the beat of his heart, the howling guitar could be the singing in his blood. He catches Steve looking at him, once, twice, three times, his pulse skipping whenever their gazes lock.
This is almost everything Eddie wants. Listening to music with Steve, forgetting about the world beyond the song and the space between them. It would be perfect if he was sure that Steve’s heart is beating as hard as his, that his skin tingles at the nearness of Eddie, the way Eddie’s skin is tingling, now, being so close to Steve. The way his stomach swoops, and his chest feels full to bursting, how he’s every single fucking hopelessly in love cliche whenever they’re together, and even more when they’re not.
But he doesn’t know. He has no fucking clue. Sometimes, maybe, he thinks—hopes—but how can he be sure? He’s out of his depths here. It drives him crazy but, fuck, in moments like this he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Steve shifts, their hips bumping together, the brush of his arm against Eddie’s sending electricity through him. It draws Steve closer and he doesn’t move away, so they listen to the rest of the song pressed close, like the booth is half the size.
“So”—Eddie pulls his side of the headphones away from his ear when the song ends—“what did you think?” He bites his lip, kicks Steve’s foot.
“I think I liked it.” Steve’s gaze flicks outside the booth, then fixes back on Eddie. His eyes twinkle, warm and dark, and he turns so he’s facing Eddie fully. He licks his lips and leans in, saying, “But maybe we could listen to it again?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, a smile forming, “maybe we could,” and he starts the song over.
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supernovasilence · 1 year
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Imagine the Pevensies, returning to Narnia in Prince Caspian, to find everyone they knew and loved is dead. Imagine them rescuing Trumpkin, meeting Caspian, dealing with the Telmarines--being so busy, they have no time to sit and mourn properly. They can only grieve while they walk through silent forests and make their way down strange riverbeds, can only snatch a few minutes before they fall asleep in between days of travel and days of battle to try to make their peace with all they have lost.
Imagine the four of them at that long celebration after the fight has been won. Laughing and feasting along with everyone else, feeling so much joy, and yet they cannot help looking around at it all. Surrounded by dwarfs and fauns, by living trees and talking beasts and dancing waters, by all their dear new friends, they cannot help remembering other celebrations. Other friends. It is all very like it was, once.
And then imagine figures making their way through the crowd to them. One or two at first, but more and more as the night goes on. Tall figures with flowing green hair, brown skin textured with bark, eyes like knotholes.
Some were only saplings, last time. Some bear scars from lightning strikes and beetle attacks. Many have fallen to storm or age, but still, some are there. Still, time has not passed for them as it has for the rest of Narnia. Wading through the earth like water, they do not come to meet the Pevensies, do not come to gape at the kings and queens of legend. They come to greet their old friends.
Trees live a long time, you see.
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Note
hi! could u perhaps write about mc accidentally finding out about the boys’ hard limits? like, just something that triggers their fight or flight response. maybe like inflecting severe pain or something. idk… thank you and sorry if u can’t!
Summary: Reader finds out where their demons' hard limits lie.
Warning/kinks: Degradation, Mirror play, bondage, sensory deprivation, punishment, spanking (with your hand and with a paddle), public play (? You're at an orgy, so everyone around you is consenting), food play, safeword use. In general, there's some panic on the boys' part as they realize that they don't like what you're doing. Along with some of them holding in their safeword for a bit, but you reprimand them for it.
Word count: 8,500+
Reader is completely gender natural and their genital isn't described.
-
Lucifer:
You know that Lucifer has complicated feelings when it comes to his body. He hates that he's missing a set of wings, but he wouldn't go back in time and stop himself from tearing them out. Yet his preference towards wearing as many layers as possible stems from more of a fear of being vulnerable than a lack of confidence in his body.
If anything, he's a bit overconfident in his physical appearance, if someone were to ask you.
("Is it really overconfidence, or simply knowing what I'm worth?"
"It's overconfidence Luci, my beautiful stupidity prideful demon.")
Using mirror play in the bedroom has proven to be an excellent way to break down Lucifer's walls. Whenever the demon struggled to get into subspace all it took was bringing out a mirror and having him nakedly kneel in front of it while you remained fully clothed for him to fall straight into subspace.
Something about him being so vulnerable while you remained untouched and fully clothed did something to him. Made him feel small and submissive. You didn't quite understand, but you definitely saw the appeal.
So, when Lucifer struggled to get into subspace one evening. When collars and putting him over your knee didn't do the trick, you brought out the mirror. It was full length and wide, able to reflect nearly half of the entire room, but you doubt that Lucifer would pay much attention to anything besides you or himself.
As you place Lucifer in front of the mirror he snaps at you, barring his teeth into a snarl and you know that tonight is going to be a difficult fight of trying to get him to relax enough to slip into subspace.
That proves true when you watch Lucifer struggle to fall into subspace. His pride battling his desire to be vulnerable and let you take control, you watch as he relaxes, before tensing up and snarling, before relaxing again, creating a vicious cycle.
Determined to break it, you decide to try something else that always makes Lucifer squirmy and lightheaded:
Degradation
"God, you're pathetic," you hiss as you pace around the demon. "Look at you, snarling at your own reflection like a wild animal. You know, sometimes I think you're no better than a wild animal with how much you fly off the handle."
Lucifer blushes at your words, but his pride is still roaming, and it doesn't let himself relax just yet.
"How dare-"
"Shut up!" You snap, wrapping a hand around Lucifer's mouth to silence him.
"Shut your dirty, lying, cheating mouth! How dare you think you can talk like you have something worthwhile to say."
Lucifer's breath catches in his throat, as the haze of vulnerability starts to creep up on him. Seeing his desire spark in his eyes you smirk and continue.
"Come on Luci. We both know that you never said anything worthwhile in your life. That at the end of the day, you're worthless. No, no, you're less than worthless. You only seem to make everything worst, don't you?"
Lucifer feels his pride crumble at your words, washing away as he starts to feel truly insignificant.
"You can never do anything right, can you? Not for Diavolo, not for your brothers, and certainly not for me."
The mention of disappointing Diavolo and his brothers strikes something inside of Lucifer, something he wasn't prepared to feel. Yet before he can examine what he's feeling, you continue.
"You're constantly fucking up, disappointing everyone around you. I wonder how long it'll be before everyone around you sees what I see. Do you know what I see Luci?"
Breath catching in his throat, Lucifer shakes his head.
You raise his chin with your index finger and direct it to the mirror, and Lucifer flinches when he sees himself.
He knows he would look vulnerable, and normally he would take great delight in how small and weak he looks compared to you, but coupled with your words, instead of feeling small and submissive and safe in your gaze, he feels like dirt. Normally when he drops down into subspace he feels soft and cared for, now he can't help but feel worthless and exposed.
Your sneer doesn't help as you take in the kneeling demon.
"Ugh, look at you. Can you believe that you used to be considered the star of the Celestial Realm?" You grab onto Lucifer's chin and force him to look at himself in the mirror.
"Well, can you?" You demand.
"N-no." He asks barely a whisper as tears spring to his eyes.
Immediately your hand drops from his chin as you stare at your demon in alarm. You're used to Lucifer being shy, especially as you break his pride down, you're used to his tears, but you never heard your demon sound so broken before.
"Luci, darling, are you ok?" You ask softly.
"I, I can't believe that I used to be the star of the Celestial Realm, Master. I am, sniff, I am worthless." Lucifer ignores your concern as he continues to cry, tears dripping down his cheeks.
Immediately you wrap your arms around him and pull him into your chest. "Hey, hey, shhhhh. It's ok baby. I don't think you're worthless. Demonus, ok? Demonus, the scene is done, it's over." You repeat your safeword a few times so Lucifer knows that the scene is over.
As you continue to hold Lucifer against you, mumbling praise and assurances slowly the demon starts to calm down. When his tears finally stop he leans away from you for a moment to catch his breath.
"Sorry, I- sorry. I don't know what came over him." He says, looking everywhere but your face or the mirror.
"It's ok sweetheart, you know you never have to apologize for needing to stop the scene. You know that right?"
"Yes, I'm aware. I just, didn't expect to react that way."
"If you're willing, do you mind telling me what caused it?"
Lucifer sighs and collapses back into your hold, and you think for a moment that he's going to shrug the whole scene off, but after a beat of silence he answers:
"It was the degradation. Normally I like it, love it even. But as I fell into subspace, hearing you talk about me like that made me feel vulnerable, and not in a good way."
Blinking, you will your tears away for now. Later, when tensions are lower, and everything isn't so raw the two of you will have a more in-depth conversation about this and will be able to apologize. Now your demon needs you.
"Thank you so much for telling me, baby. I just want you to know that I didn't mean a word of what I said. I, and I'm sure everyone else, rely heavily on you. We don't think you're worthless at all."
"I know," Lucifer states, a bit of his prideful overconfidence returning.
"Now, why don't the two of us stop laying on the floor and listen to a few of my records instead? I got this new one that curses those who listen to it to sing until their throat bleeds." Lucifer stands, reaching out a hand to pull you up.
It's a bit silly, seeing the still naked demon being so confident, but you hold all teasing remarks as you follow along.
-
Mammon:
You wanted to do so much to Mammon that it became a question of not what you'll do to him, but what he'll allow you to do to him.
And it turns out Mammon will allow you to do a lot.
Hence the list. After a very exciting night of thinking about every fantasy, kink, and wet dream you ever had, you came up with a list of what you wanted to do with Mammon, and are currently in the process of working through that list.
A lot of things on the list Mammon never tried (or heard about) before, which took a lot of talking, and a lot of easing him into certain kinks. The very kink you're trying out tonight being one he never tried before.
You gather up everything you'll need for tonight. A blindfold, noise-canceling headphones, and a pair of chains. You're a bit excited that the blindfold and headphones are magic, meaning that cut off all light and noise, as it was basically impossible to find a human realm blindfold that blocks out all light.
You could tell Mammon was getting excited too by the way he keeps eyeing the items, but in his usual Mammon way, he keeps that fact to himself.
It's adorable how he rushes to lay against the headboard at your command, as he's usually a bit of a brat and drags his feet before obeying your orders.
The chains are the first thing to go, seeing as Mammon and you were intimately familiar with them. As you lean over to secure the right cuff Mammon steals a kiss, leaning upward his lips ghosts over your cheek. With a grin, you pin him to the bed.
"Greedy boy~ we haven't even gotten started and yet you're already teasing."
"Guess it's just in my nature to be a little greedy." He teases back.
Rolling your eyes you give him one last real kiss on the lips before cuffing him to the bedframe. As you back to enjoy your work you can't help but feel giddy.
Pulling out the blindfold and headphones you turn to your demon with a grin as you present them both to him.
"Blindfold or headphones first?"
Mammon looks a bit caught off guard at being asked his preference, before eyeing them both critically. After a beat, he answers: "The headphones, I want the extra time to see you."
You huff at the flirt, not believing just how bold your demon can get under the right circumstances. (The circumstances being chained to the bed as you lay on top of him.) Leaning down you place the headphones around his ears and give him a moment to adjust.
"Wow, this is really weird! Woah! I can't even hear my voice! Am I being loud? I feel loud!"
Rolling your eyes you lean down and tap Mammon twice against the forehead - the signal you two came up with when you want to check in.
"I'm really to go! Just give me one last moment to look into your eyes -" Mammon stares into your eyes unblinking for a solid five seconds "- I'm good to go!"
Wrapping the blindfold around his head you plunge your demon into darkness.
And it is incredibly weird for Mammon. As a demon he has pretty good night vision, so even in complete darkness he can make out shapes pretty well. So being in complete darkness takes him a moment to get used to.
The warmth of your body grounds him, and it doesn't take long before he's relaxing into the plush bed.
Shimmy downwards, you try to make yourself comfortable sitting between Mammon's legs, sitting right in front of his cock. Leaning down you give the half hard cock a puff of air and watch as Mammon jumps at the sensation.
"Th-that felt weird. It felt like, a lot? Even though it was so little?" Mammon mumbles, and you wonder if you're going to get a rubbing commentary the entire night.
Maybe you should have added a gag to your myriad of tools.
Wrapping your hands around your demon's dick you begin to slowly pump it. Mammon gasps at the feeling, before moaning and leaning into your touch. Your touch is light and extremely slow, but the demon has always been extremely sensitive and it doesn't take much before he's nearly spilling.
"I'm cumming-"
Your hands fly away at his words, and he growls in annoyance. With a grin, he can't see you bounce off of the bed and begin looking through your toy chest. Normally Mammon would be peaking over, curious about what you'll pick out. But seeing as he can't currently do that, you grin as you realize that you're going to completely surprise him with whatever you pick.
As Mammon comes down from his high he realizes that you're no longer on the bed. The warmth he previously felt emulating from you is gone, and his heart quickens as he realizes that he's alone.
"Hey, what's the big idea? Where'd you go?" Mammon calls out.
You roll your eyes at the dramatics, too busy with shifting through the toy box. "In a minute, Mamms, I'm just getting a few toys." You answer, half forgetting that he can't currently hear. Mammon was just so loud, so responsive, that you momentarily let it slip from your mind that he didn't actually expect a response from you, and couldn't receive one.
Mammon tries his best to calm down. Surely you're just messing with him, right? Wanting to make him crack and beg for your touch? You do like to make him beg. Yup, that's it. You were just teasing him.
You are still definitely in the room with him.
Right?
Seconds become minutes to Mammon as he strains his ears to hear you. Normally he knew exactly where you were and what you were doing, even when he was kneeling and staring at the ground his demon senses allow him to hear everything. Now he has no idea where you are or what you're doing.
"Ok, fine, fine! I give! Can you please touch me?" Mammon whines.
Picking up the fleshlight you want to use on him you intend to do just that. Only to realize that the demon forgot to clean it. Gagging you put the toy aside to clean later, and decide to punish your demon by continuing to ignore him by looking through the toy box.
"Come on, please." His voice takes on a real edge of desperation as he starts to spiral.
What if you left? What if you got bored of him and decided that you didn't want to play with him anymore? Is he all alone, begging to an empty room because he wasn't good enough? He begins to fight against his chains in earnest now, instead of the teasing, testing pulls he's used to. But he finds that they're locked up tight and that he can't break out of them.
Will you hear his safeword if he says it?
Finally finding a suitable and clean toy you stand up and stretch. Glancing over at your boyfriend, you notice that he's strangely calm as he's no longer begging or struggling against the chains. You believe that he's just pouting and the second you touch him he'll start whining about you taking forever.
Before you can reach him, Mammon mumbles out a soft, broken, "Goldie".
Dropping the toy in your hand you rush over to him and immediately remove the headphones before moving onto the blindfold.
"Hey, hey it's alright. I'm right here." You mumble, hands shaking as you lean up to undo the cuffs.
Mammon has never safeworded before, and you're kinda panicking at the moment, but you do your best to remain calm as you rush to take off the chains.
The second Mammon lays eyes on you he lunges at you, pinning you to the bed in a hug. His arms are firm, yet they shake as they hold you. It takes you a moment to realize that the wetness you feel on your neck is from Mammon, but once you do you coo in sympathy.
"I thought you left me," Mammon whispers into your chest.
Blinking back tears you lean down to kiss the demon's forehead.
"I would never leave you alone like that Mamms. I just wanted to get a toy from the toy chest. I'm sorry, I should have communicated that to you."
"It's alright just... I don't think blindfolds and noise-canceling headphones are for me."
"That's OK, that's alright. Sometimes we're going to find stuff we don't like."
-
Levi:
Levi is an extremely obedient sub. In your many months of dating each other he never once received a punishment. You two set out rules together, with him not being allowed to touch himself without your permission and him being required to leave his room and go to RAD a certain number of times each month.
You had expected a rule to be broken at least once, so you were very surprised to see that it never was. Levi was just obedient, and even when he didn't want to do the thing you ordered him to do, he did it. (Even with an excessive bit of whining)
So you were content to never punish your scaly demon.
Levi wasn't.
"Why do you never punish me," Levi asks, pouting in his bathtub. His face is partially hidden by the pillow he's clenching to his chest.
"Because you never actually break a rule or be a brat?"
"Hmmmmm," Levi pouts. "It's not fair! You punish the others! Yet you never punish me. Is it because you don't want to? Because you could never bring yourself to punish a gross otaku like me?"
Holding back a laugh you crawl into the bathtub. Really, only your Levi could be envious of those you've punished.
"Well, if you're so interested in being punished, why don't you do something bad?"
Levi's eyes snap towards yours, like he never actually considered that option. "Gahhhh?!? Be, be bad? How could I, wouldn't you hate me forever?!"
Softening you reach across the tub to cup Levi's face in your hands. Moving his shocked face towards yours you pepper his face in kisses.
"Nope! Levi, I could never hate you." You say softly, stopping your kissing momentarily to gaze sincerely at your boyfriend.
Levi blushes at the look and hides his face in the pillow that's currently squished between you two.
"O-ok, if you say you wouldn't hate me, I'll, I'll try being bad!"
-
You walk towards Levi's room with a pep in your step, excited to continue playing the new RPG the demon recently brought. You only stopped playing last night as your eyes burned too much for you to continue looking at the screen.
As you cheerfully open the door to Levi's room you immediately notice that something is off about the demon. Instead of excitedly smiling at you and handing a controller over to you, he's curled up on his gaming chair and nervously fidgeting with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
"What's wrong?" You ask. Standing over your boyfriend you check him over. Did Mammon steal something of his again? Was an anime he liked canceled?
Levi shakes off your concern and reaches for a controller. "N-nothing is wrong! We don't we start playing?"
He shoves the controller into your hand before scurrying off to turn on the game console. Unsure of what else to do to help your nervous demon you follow along, thinking that he'll open up once you start playing.
As the title screen of the game pops up you see Levi nervously staring at you in the corner of your eye, and you debate asking again if he's alright. Before you're able the title sequence stops and you press the "play" button. A column of saves pops up, and in your confusion, you momentarily forget about Levi's nervousness completely.
"Levi, where's my save?" You ask, flicking between the different saves, yours mysteriously gone.
"Oh well. Um. I sorta maybe, deleted it?" He says in a whisper so quiet you have to strain to hear it.
Snapping your head towards him you watch as Levi nervously fidgets. His left arm is covering his face in a classic sign of Levi's nervousness as a blush paints his cheeks.
Wait. Blush?
All of a sudden your previous conversation about punishment from yesterday comes back to you. You honestly didn't believe that Levi would gather up the courage to do something "bad", so you're momentarily impressed that he did.
All previous concerns about your save fly out the window, as you're sure that Levi backed up the save and is only pretending to have deleted it to elicit this punishment. Stalking forward you wrap your arms around your demon's shoulders and force him to face you.
"Oh, did you know? I didn't know my little demon could be so.... naughty~" You tease.
Levi's face darkens, at both your close proximity and your words. His mouth opens to defend himself but no words make it out. You watch as Levi reboots himself as you teasingly rub circles onto his shoulders.
As moments pass by and Levi is nowhere closer to calming down, you decide to pick up the lead again. "Does my demon want to be punished? Is that it? Were you sitting here in your room wondering what you could do to make me mad and pull you over my knee?"
Wordlessly Levi nods and confirmation, and you can't help but laugh a little. Even when being punished your demon can't help but be good for you.
Returning to your chair once again, you pat your chair and pat your thighs expectingly. Rushing to comply Levi lays across your thighs, and you give him a warning smack of what's to come.
"Ah!" Levi cries out, more in surprise than any real pain, as it will take a lot more than a little smack to hurt a demon Iike him.
It's not the first time you had Levi over your knee, though the previous times were more to explore a curiosity than for a punishment. Yet the previous experiences fill you with confidence, as you know where to smack to tease him, and where to smack that will cause him real pain.
As Levi gets himself situated on your lap you pull down his pants in one quick motion, jeans and all. The demon shivers as cold air meets his rear and you laugh at the pout he gives you in response.
Testing out the waters you give the bare ass a firm smack, and delight in the way Levi flinches at being caught off guard.
"Ah hmmm!" Levi moans, thrusting back for more.
"I expect you to count and thank me after each hit Levi-chan." You say sternly.
"O-one! Thank you, Master!"
Grinning you continue, giving your demon a few more smacks. You didn't give him a number on purpose, as you want to see how many smacks it'll take before his ass is a bright red and he's sobbing out for mercy.
As his ass gets redder and redder Levi begins to squirm against you, thrusting his hips against your thighs. You sigh in response, deep and disappointed, and the sound snaps Levi out of his pleasure filled hazy.
"No grinding against me. This is a punishment, remember? You're not supposed to be enjoying this."
Your tone is harsh, and it sends Levi flinching. You never sounded so.... frustrated in a scene before. Levi is used to you being teasing and gentle, always there with a soft word and a teasing touch. The idea of you being upset with him sends him spiraling.
Tensing up Levi tries his hardest to sit still and obey you, believing that maybe if he shows you that he can be good, and is willing to listen to your commands, you'll praise him. (You'll still want him.)
The next few swings of your fast, delivered before Levi has the chance to count them individually. Because of this, he miscounts them.
"Fifteen, s-sixteen, seventeen! Th-thank you, master."
Slowly, as Levi catches his breath your hand trails upward before suddenly wrapping tightly around his hair. Pulling him upward you lean down to whisper in your best Disappointed Dom voice: "Are you sure you counted right?"
Levi feels his heart stop at your words. He did, right?! He wouldn't miscount - didn't mean to miscount! He swears! It was an accident-
Slowly you watch as Levi's breath starts to stutter, stopping completely before gasping in and out. Immediately you drop your hold and Levi begins to hyperventilate against you.
"Sorry, I'm s-sorry. Didn't -gasp- didn't mean to! Sorry!"
Instantly you pick the demon up and hold his back towards his chest, hopeful that the extra room will allow him to calm down, as you begin mumbling praise into his ear.
"Hey, hey, it's ok! I'm not angry, I promise! There's no need to be sorry, it's ok, I forgive you."
Eventually, Levi gets his breathing under control, and he collapses against you once he does. Shifting him slightly, you pull him into your chest and he immediately buries his face into your neck. You continue to whisper praise as you being to gently stroke his back, allowing Levi the time to compose himself.
"I'm sorry." Is the first thing he says when he does.
"I know baby, I know. There's nothing to apologize for, though, you know that right? When I was disappointed that was only a part of the scene, right? Like when you sometimes pretend to not like something when you do."
Mutely you feel Leve nod against you.
"I, I didn't actually delete your save. I have it backed up on my computer."
"I know, sweetheart, I know." You whisper before leaning down to kiss the top of his head.
"How about this, we continue sitting here for a bit longer, and then we both get something to eat and drink. Then we have a little chat about the scene before loading up my save?"
Levi grumbles at the idea of actually having to talk about what happened, but he nods against you once.
"Good boy. That's my good boy."
-
Satan:
You hold up a pair of handcuffs and Satan grins.
You two haven't played around with the idea of bondage much, there were other kinks that you wanted to try out first. Sure, you toyed around with pinning his hands down to the bed or ordering him to sit still while you edged him. But you two have yet to use any tool to bind him.
A distinct click echoes throughout the room as you fasten the cuff to his right hand before moving to his left. His hands are looped around the bedframe, stopping him from reaching down to touch himself or you as you play with him.
A wise choice seeing as you plan to edge him until he's sobbing.
The first edge passes through him well, only resulting in a choked-off groan before you give him a few moments to calm down. As you do Satan begins to pull at the handcuffs, testing out their strength.
As he pulls his hands back and forth he feels his heartbeat pick up for a different reason. A looming sense of dread slowly starts to creep in, but before he can focus on it you begin to stroke his dick once again.
Arousal floods through his system once again, but so does anxiety. As he chases his denied relief once more he pulls against the handcuffs, flinching when they make a loud clicking noise as they scrape against the headboard.
When you shift away to allow him to cool off the anxiety settles in replacing all thoughts of arousal. He begins to fight earnestly against the handcuffs, pushing and pulling them, trying to will them to break. But they're strong cuffs, made out of demon-resistant metal and almost impossible to break.
In your mind all you can see is Satan shaking against the bed, sneaking out the pleasure you've denied him. But in Satan's, he's reliving an experience he hasn't felt in thousands of years: entrapment.
Memories of heavy chains wrapping around his body, caging him in and denying his escape as he withers and shakes in rage. Memories of dark closets and being chained to this very same bed as he screamed out curses and profanities until his throat bleed.
He thought he was past this stage of his life, where he was angry and trapped. Caged like a wild animal.
"S-SHAKESPEARE!" Satan growls out your safeword - a safeword that has never been used before.
It takes you a second to realize what he said, but once you do you're on him in an instant. Reaching up you fumble with the keys to the handcuffs as Satan struggles beneath you. You whisper praise and assurances as you unlock the cuffs, but you doubt he can hear you.
The moment he's free Satan flinches backward, his back hitting the wall as he scrambles to get away from you. His eyes are wide, his pupils are pinpricks as he studies the world around him. Akin to a wild, caged animal he crotches down like he's preparing to lunge, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
You know he wouldn't attack you, yet you do your best to look passive as you raise your hands in surrender.
It takes a few moments, but eventually, Satan comes back to himself. He seems to realize where he is, and what's going on, as he composes himself.
"Baby, are you ok?" You ask in a low, gentle tone.
And Satan breaks.
He completely shatters as he rushes into your arms. You barely have time to realize what's going on before you feel your chest wetten as Satan begins to sob.
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry." You mumble, hands lightly touching Satan's head. When he leans into the touch you begin gently petting him.
"It's, sniff, it's ok. You didn't know I would react like that. I didn't even know I would react like that."
"Still, I saw you struggling against the handcuffs, I should have checked up on you."
Satan doesn't know what to say to that, too tired to try to argue with you so he simply hums in response. After a few minutes of sitting in comfortable silence, your hands threading through his hair, he leans up and rubs the remainder of the tears out of his eyes.
"Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather we do something else?" You ask, rubbing circles into his back.
"Can we read a bit first?" Satan asks, and on a normal day he would cringe at how timid he sounds, but he's too tired to care right now.
One day he'll tell you about his "childhood". About this memories of chains and ropes, of dark rooms and confined spaces, of rage and curses.
But now he just wants you to hold him as the two of you pour over a good murder mystery, him free to move around and shift, and you with your hands wrapped around his waist.
-
Asmo:
You and Asmo tried nearly every kink known to man, and even some only known to demons. So you know when Asmo's limits lie, and he knows yours. You know when he's fake whining to get a rise out of you, and when his cries border on actually "too much", you can tell the difference between pleasure tears and pain tears, and after many many conversations you know what kinks he absolutely wouldn't want to try under any circumstances.
Fortunately, polygamy wasn't one of them.
It wasn't often the two of you invited another into your bed, you could entertain each other just fine. But sometimes you wanted to see Asmo dom another person, or Asmo wanted to show off his skills next to a less experienced sub, and gangbangs were just fun! You only had two hands, and sometimes you wanted to see Asmo be taken apart by a dozen.
The orgy the two of you are going to tonight didn't have a "main character", but it was hosted by a prominent sex toy brand owner, and Asmo said that the snack bar was "to die for". So you decided to give it a try.
Asmo was being a brat the whole car ride over, pawing at your jacket and trying to kiss you. Trying to save the poor Uber driver you tell your demon to behave, but Asmo only giggles in response as he tries, and fails, to undo your buttons.
You hope that once you got to the orgy Asmo would settle down, but he's  committed to being a brat. As you hand over your coat to the door demon, Asmo rushes ahead of you and sits down onto the lap of a demon he knows, who is very clearly in the middle of having their dick sucked by another attendee.
He tries to persuade them to let him take over and replace their sub's spot, but you're able to pull Asmo away by his collar and onto your lap.
For one glorious moment, you believe that this calms your demon down enough to start behaving, as he quiets down once as he gets settled. It wasn't long after that another demon started up a conversation with you, asking if you were the legendary exchange student, and how you felt about RAD.
While you talked Asmo absentmindedly sucks on your fingers. He tries squirming against your lap, but one smack to his thigh was a clear message for him to calm down.
Or so you thought.
When Asmo continues to grind against you and begins adding teeth to his sucking, you snap. If he was so determined to be punished tonight, he would get punished.
Rising you stand before Asmo wearing your best Disappointed Dom look. He giggles at the look, clearly happy that he thinks he's getting what he wants. That is a public spanking.
You have different plans though, and you walk towards a corner of the room no one is standing near. Snapping your fingers at the corner you command your demon:
"Asmo, over here now."
Asmo rushes off the couch to obey as he skips over. He eyes you a curious look as you force him to his knees, obviously not expecting his punishment to be somewhere so out of the way and private. You pay it no mind, and when he sinks to the floor and assumes a standard kneeling position you give him another command:
"You're not to move, and unless it's your safeword you're not allowed to speak either until I say your punishment is over."
He pouts as he feels the command take hold, staring up at you with pleading eyes. But you don't allow yourself to be swayed.
"Since you were so determined to be a brat and not be patient, this is your punishment. When I think you're finally to sit still I will release you."
You give him one last pat on the head before making your way back to the couch.
As you resume your conversation with the other demon about RAD, more demons start to join in. Some are curious about your life as an exchange student while others are more concerned with the reason why you're here.
A bold demon leaned in close and whispered something in your ear, causing you to blush and gently swat their arm. After that it was like the other demons suddenly remember that they were at an orgy and not a press conference, and began cuddling up to you.
All the while Asmo stews from his spot kneeling in the corner. At first, he was upset at you for hiding him, but now that you're getting more and more attention a prickle of envy runs through him. Not at you, but at the demons now vying for your attention. You should be focused on him - even if it was to punish him.
Normally Asmo wouldn't mind you getting cozy with a few other demons, under different circumstances he would have been delighted to sit back and watch as you had your way with a few of them. Now? When he's hidden away in a corner, forgotten?
Something stings in Asmo, and he desperately tries to whine out for your attention, but the command stops him. All that leaves him is the wheeze of his chest as he desperately tries to force words out of his mouth. Your safeword was on the tip of his tongue, and if you two were alone he wouldn't hesitate to say it, but something about being in a room full of demons stop him.
He's the Avatar the lust, and this is barely a punishment, what would the other demons say if they saw him use his safeword just because he was put into a corner? He knows that safewording isn't a sign of weakness, but he can't shake the thought of what rumors might follow him if he shows vulnerability.
But when he sees a demon crawl into your lap, and you kiss them on the lips, he can't help but yell out a desperate "Majolish"!
Immediately you push the demon out of your lap and rush toward Asmo. Your knees hit the ground with a loud thud but you pay it no mind you kneel before the now sobbing demon.
"All commands are over! Asmo are you ok, what happened?!"
Asmo doesn't waste a second as his arms shot around you and pull you close. As he sobs into your chest your hands slowly wrap around your demon, trying to piece together what went wrong. You don't get must time to think before Asmo's lips are on yours, kissing you desperately, which you quickly return with enthusiasm. Asmo calms down once you make it clear that you desire him, slumping into your chest.
When you break for air you timidly look around the room and breathe a sigh of relief as you notice that the surrounding demons are making an effort not you look in your direction. As you make eye contact with a demon they mouth out a "side room" while pointing at a closed door.
Understanding that this must be some type of aftercare room, or simply a private room couples can retreat into, you quickly pull Asmo up and lead him into the room. As you make it through the doorway you relax as you see that no one else is in there and gently push Amso onto the bed.
"Asmo, sweetheart, darling, we don't have to talk about what happened right away, but I do want to make you feel better. Can you please tell me if there's anything I can do?"
Asmo, whose been holding your hand in a death grip slowly nods as his other hand wipes at his tears.
"Yeah, yes of course. Just can you, can you hold me for a bit?" His voice gets quieter at the end. "Maybe tell me you love me?"
It's rare to see Asmo so shaken up, even after using his safeword, and something breaks inside of you. But you're determined to focus on him, and you nod.
"Of course baby, scout over."
Asmo does as he's told and you're quick to pull him into a tight hug before you begin to slowly rock him back and forth. All the while whispering praise into his ear about how much you adore him, and how beautiful he is.
-
Beel:
It seemed so simple when you suggested the idea: why not mix two of Beel's biggest pleasures and bring food into the bedroom?
You haven't had much experience with food play before, but after doing some research (watching porn on DevilHub and writing down things you found hot), you were confident you could make food sexy.
After discussing what will happen in the scene, you and Beel come up with a game plan. Beel was a bit worried about not being able to focus on sex when he was eating, so you proposed a solution: you will command Beel to sit still and tease him with food from Madam Screams. When he's a good boy and shows patience, you'll reward him by feeding him a piece of food and then stroking his dick. Trapping in a cycle of wanting pleasure, and being hungry.
The start of the scene went according to plan, with Beel able to control himself as he sinks to his knees in front of you. You dangle a curly fry in front of his face, and Beel drools at the sight.
Teasing him you press the fry against his lips and tell him by a good boy and hold it there. Like a dog, Beel obeys and holds the treat against his lips and makes no move to bite. While your other hand sinks to the edge of his boxers.
Palming his dick Beel lets out a guttural groan, the motion causing the fry to ever so slightly push past his lips and he gets a slight taste of the slaty goodness before you rip it away. The glutton barely has time to mourn that loss before he sinks into pleasure once more as you pull his dick out of his underwear.
Already hard and dripping Beel's dick bounces against his stomach, and you coo in delight.
"Oh baby, you're already so wet for me. Excited already?"
Beel moans in response, unable to think clearly as it was growing harder to think through the pleasure filled haze of his mind.
Wrapping your hand around your dick you give it a firm tug, just how he likes it. All thoughts of food and hunger spill out of his mind as you begin playing with his dick.
Until you press the curly fry against his nose and he breathes in the scent. Hunger overtakes him once more as he tries to lunge for it, but you move it away before he's able. Pressing a firm finger against his slit Beel groans as he's stuck in a tug of war between his two different desires. Food, and sex.
As you deny him his treat once again a growl rumbles through his chest and you pause. Beel has never growled like that during sex before. Smiling you continue to jack him off, but Beel is less excited about his rough growl. He normally tries so hard to keep his hunger rage away from you, what if he loses control?
You don't give him much time to worry about concern as you pump him toward an orgasm. Yet the moment Beel feels like he's going to tip over, your hands retreat and he's left wanting.
As a reward you pop the fry into the demon's panting mouth and he instantly inhales it. But it doesn't provide him much relief as he just feels hungrier.
Beel is used to fighting off his hunger and he's used to you edging him. But dealing with both at once? It's an overwhelming, all encompassing desire he never felt before.
And he's not sure if he likes it.
As you lean down to touch his dick once again Beel lets out a throaty whine, sounding more desperate than you ever heard him before. Horny, but worried you glance up at your gentle giant.
"Are you doing alright, buddy?"
"Hungry- no, horny. I can't, I don't know. I want to stop." He rushes out the last part quickly, but you hear it all the same.
"Oh! OK, alright. Yeah, we can stop no problem. Um, which one do you want first? Do you want me to get you off first or do you want to eat first?"
Beel moans hopelessly at the question, and you mentally berate yourself for even asking. It's not like he can't do both at once.
Shoving a handful of fries into his mouth you begin pumping his dick in earnest now, determined to actually get him off this time. Every time Beel moans in hunger you're quick to feed him more food, and Beel is treated to the sensation of eating while getting pleasure.
It doesn't take long for him to cum, shooting into your hands and getting a bit of your chin as he does. As he breathes out a sigh of relief he lays boneless against you, and you remember to finally undo the sit still command you previously placed on him.
Patting his back with one hand the other reaches over to grab a nearby drink and you hand it to him to help wash down the food. After he downs it one gulp he leans back to give you a dopey, but incredibly fond look.
"That was nice. I liked it when you feed me while jacking me off."
Grinning at the honesty, you lean in and kiss your demon.
"Thank you. I liked how desperate you were and how to relied on me to give you everything you wanted. What about the teasing?"
"I.... didn't like that. I was afraid I'll get too needy and hurt you." Beel says the last part ashamed and you're quick to lean up to give him another kiss.
"I get that, it seemed like a lot. If you want to do this again I would tease you again, I promise."
Beel grins, and you momentarily mourn your wallet at how much food you'll be buying in the future. But that fond look is enough to banish all mournful thoughts in an instant.
"I'll like that."
-
- Belphie:
Belphie being a brat isn't a new development for you. He's been a brat since the first time you bedded him. Which resulted in a lot of punishments. A lot.
You almost believe that Belphie prefers to be punished than his regular scenes, and that makes you want to up the ante and show him a real punishment is like. Maybe you'll finally convince him to be obedient for once.
So you got a new toy you wanted to try with him, a paddle. It's a thick, strong paddle. Made in the Devildom because you don't think a human realm one will survive Belphie's ass.
Yet the demon doesn't so much as cower when you present the toy to him after he caused you to sleep in and miss class again. Well, you'll show him. You'll have him pleading for mercy in no time.
The Avatar of Sloth, true to his name, doesn't put up any type of a fight as you pull him across your lap. Only grinning when you pull his pants down and you notice that he's not wearing any underwear.
"You were really committed to being a brat today, weren't you?" You tease, giving the demon a quick pop on the ass with the paddle.
Belphie moans at the sensation, and giggles a cheeky "no". Wasting no time with foreplay you get right into business by delivering a fury of blows to the demon's plush. You don't bother to tell him to count them, knowing that he wouldn't, or that he'll miscount on purpose.
Moaning at the feeling Belphie arches his back as he leans into the swatting, enjoying the pushing sensation.
Yet, as time continues and you keep hitting and his ass gets redder and redder Belphie starts to feel weird..... tender. You normally don't cause him to feel this raw until much later in his punishment. When both of your hands sting with the amount of blows you dealt, the two of you are out of breath and ready to tear each other's clothes off.
As you strike down the paddle once again, Belphie feels something he hasn't felt in a very long time:
Pain
Sure, your spankings hurt before. But it was more of a force, a push, a physical reaction to movement than any real kind of pain.
And Belphie is not prepared to handle real pain. As the spoiled youngest of the Avatars, he's used to not having to lift a finger. This made your punishments even more exciting as Belphie felt the closest he did to pain he felt in a long time, without actually crossing over into actual pain.
He may not be as physically resistant as Beel or Lucifer, but he's still an Avatar, a high class demon who can take a lot before anything even fazes him.
Which makes this situation laughable.
A simple human like you, causing him, a ruler of the Devildom, pain? It's impossible, it should be impossible.
Yet here he is, forcing back tears as a flimsy wooden paddle causes him pain he hasn't felt since the Celestial War. He wants to laugh, but he wants to cry even more.
The safeword is on the tip of his tongue, but he refuses to cave. He's been spanked dozens of times before, why should he admit defeat over a stupid paddle? He knows you'll disagree with him framing it like that, but you're too busy creating welts on his ass to argue with Belphie's mind.
When you show no signs of stopping or slowing down, Belphie starts to crack. For once he just wants a punishment to be over and for him to apologize and for you to hold him in your arms.
When you strike down once more, Belphie cries out a "No!" That's a little too desperate, a little too panicked, that snaps you out of your rhythm
"Baby?" You ask, placing the paddle next to you. "Are you ok? Do you need a breather?" You know not to suggest stopping, as Belphie will scoff at the notion before edging you on, but something about the way he's flinching makes you want to pause the scene for a moment.
"No," Belphie sniffs, hand reaching upward to rub the tears out of his. "No I'm fine, keep going." He insits, but you notice the way he leans away from you as he says it. Belphie may be a brat, he may pretend to huff and hate punishments, but he never shifted away from you during a scene pause.
Placing down the paddle beside you, you host Belphie up and press him against your chest. The moment you do he's hiding his face in your shirt, an act of shyness that's out of character for the demon.
"Belphie, baby, are you ok? We can stop if you want to."
Belphie sniffles against your shift and you raise your hands to rub comforting circles into his skin.
"I'm fine, just.... I'm not letting a stupid paddle break me." He mumbles out the last part, but you're able to catch the gist of it and you frown.
"You know that's now how that works. You're not admitting defeat, or saying you're not strong enough if you use your safeword."
Believe grumbles out a response you don't catch, but you doubt he's agreeing with you. Shifting his head upwards you create eye contact between the two of you, and don't relent until he's staring into your eyes.
"What if I didn't want to do something and so I used our safeword? Am I breaking then?"
Belphie pouts, knowing that he'll never think any less of you if you were to use the safeword. So reluctantly he shakes his head.
"Well, why's it any different for you? Because you're a demon?"
He flashes pink at being so easily read, and he keeps his mouth shut as he shrinks down.
"No, but......" Belphie trails off, unsure of what to say. Smiling softly you lean forward to press a kiss into his lips, one he's quick to mirror.
"Alrighty, so no more holding in your safeword, ok?"
With an exaggerated sigh, Belphie nods before cuddling up to you. As you lay down with your arms wrapped around him, careful to shift him so his tender ass isn't touching anything, you begin stroking his hair. In the following silence, all that can be heard is the steady rise and fall of both of your chests before Belphie says determined:
"I'm going to burn that paddle though."
-
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polaroidcats · 6 months
Text
Ugly crying & the marauders generation - a pseudo-scientific approach (my marauders crying PhD abstract)
Abstract
In recent days, there have been a variety of claims as to who the prettiest and ugliest crier in the marauders generation could be. This paper aims to address the recent surge in opinions on the matter, and categorize different approaches as well as add a new approach to the scientific examination of ugliness/prettiness when it comes to crying. I hope to provide readers with an overview of the current state of research and encourage all marauders scholars to add their own and I intend to make a contribution to the discourse by committing to the bit and writing a pseudo-academic paper about it instead of actually working on my thesis.
Introduction
In the following paper, the discourse about 5 marauders era characters will be examined in regards to their various levels of perceived ugliness whilst crying. Scholars who may ask why Peter [Pettigrew] is not included in this analysis are advised to refer to acclaimed marauders ugly crying scholar @lynxindisguise's (2023) original poll on the popular blogging website "tumblr.com" which did not include Peter, but rather two non-marauders characters named Lily and Regulus. This paper will follow that approach, since Peter is the nastiest skank bitch I have ever met, I do not trust him and he is a fugly slut. The characters included in this approach are as follows: James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Regulus Black.
Following the scientific criteria for ugly crying, as stated by lynxindisguise et. al (2023), the question of the ugliest crier can be answered by observing the crying person and assessing their ugly-levels on the following parameters: (1) unbecoming facial expressions, (2) facial swelling/blotching, (3) unsettling noises, (4) snot factor, (5) tear volume, (6) general loss of dignity, (7) glistening eyes/lashes, (8) Victorian heroine factor, (9) elegant tear-wiping, (10) post-cry glow (ibid).
Criteria (1)-(6) can be categorized as the ugly crying parameters whereas (7)-(10) are pretty crying parameters, creating a false binary between ugly and pretty crying, which may be problematised and addressed in another the paper. In contrast to lynxindisguise’s original 10 criteria to measure the aesthetics of crying, this paper proposes to add (11) explosiveness of cry as another ugly crying parameter, in order to get a more clear assessment of where on the ugly-pretty crying scale a character falls.
The ugly crying parameters
(1) Unbecoming facial expressions
James Potter is mentioned in this category by several marauders scholars: @jaylienpotter talks about his red face and ugly sobbing, @artbyace mentions his “scrunched up cry face” and @sectoren claimes “james (…) is that one handsome guy that when the waterworks get going becomes like. Cartoonishly ugly”, raising the question of upkeeping toxic masculinity in order to avoid having to witness more of James Potter’s crying “mug”.
Though James Potter features heavily in this category, another character who is also mentioned just as often is Remus Lupin: @kaaaaaaarf, @appreciatedmoron and @http-starboy all emphasise that Remus Lupin is the one with a red and blotchy face.
(2) facial swelling/blotching
While there is a definitive overlap between the categories of facial swelling/blotching, unbecoming facial expressions and snot factor, Sirius’ and Regulus’ victorian heroine complexions, which give them an advantage in the homonymous category, may be to their disadvantage in the “blotching” category. This will require further research by other scholars.
(3) unsettling noises
James Potter is mentioned in this category by Jaylienpotter (2023), claiming he not only hiccups when crying but also that “his cries are one of the most heartbreaking things you’ll ever hear” and similarly, artbyace states that “James loves and feels so loudly”, whereas “Sirius is silent”, both sentiments are reminiscent of znelda’s (2023) statements that James “was allowed to feel his emotions freely in a loving household” and “Sirius (…) [is] used to hide [his] feelings and [has] become stoic”.
With several other scholars, among them also @jamesunderwater (2023) raising the point that James may be the ugliest crier due to him being “the only one well adjusted enough to have access to his feelings” this raises the question of possibly introducing another category, maybe of emotional awareness/stability to be able to measure this parameter more efficiently, though emotional vulnerability may also just be a part of the unsettling noises parameter, suggesting that there is a correlation between noisiness and the existing environment being welcoming to and accepting of various expressions of emotions.
(4) snot factor
The most popular winner in the snot factor category seems to be Remus Lupin, with several scholars agreeing that his sobs are the dampest and snottiest out of all the candidates. kaaaaaaarf (2023) writes “he turnes all red and blochty and snot drips out of his nose (…) he cant (sic) not cry with his mouth open as well so there is a lot of spit”, and appreciatedmoron (2023) agrees with kaaaaaaarf on this.
It only seems right to me to include spit in the snot category as well, seeing as they’re both crying-related bodily fluids that add to the ugly-cry factor. http-starboy (2023) also mentions snot in regards to Remus Lupin, which compared to both their comments in (1) opens up the question of how unbecoming facial expressions, more particularly redness of the face and snot factor may be related, as several authors seem to write about both specifically in relation to each other. Whether this is just pure coincidence or not would need further research, for which we currently do not have enough funding. This is only one of the many research gaps in the relatively new field of marauder’s ugly crying studies, which cannot fully be addressed in this paper.
James Potter is also mentioned in the snot category, namely by the marauders scholar artbyace (2023).
(5) tear volume
Artbyace (2023) claims James Potter is “full on bawling” which can only be assumed to refer to tear volume, but the most convincing argument for tear volume comes from the acclaimed marauders scholar @fruityindividual (2023), stating that “tsunami warning tones go off in sirius’ brain anytime remus is close 2 (sic) tears” which already indicates high levels of tear volumes. The author then goes on to specify the volume by claiming that “indeed the ocean wishes rj lupin would jump in and help contribute 2 (sic) rising sea levels”, further emphasizing the volume of Remus's tears.
(6) general loss of dignity
@pastaplatypus (2023) writes about James Potter not being able to do a Melodramatic Bollywood Cry, which is perceived as inherently racist by the crier.
I would like to argue that Sirius Black also deserves to be mentioned in this category. While as of today, with less than 1 hour left to vote, 15.5% of voters agree that Sirius is the ugliest crier, the more outspoken voices all argue for different ugly criers. Due to their upbringing, I am tempted to name both Black brothers in the “loss of dignity” category and look forward to reading future contributions to this discussion.
The pretty crying parameters
(7) glistening eyes/lashes
Undoubtedly Sirius Black deserves to be mentioned in this category. I believe his dark lashes and glimmering eyes are part of what makes him the prettiest crier. Whereas Remus’s eyes also sometimes glisten or appear red, and it is usually attributed to be caused by drug consumption, which more often than not is a wrong assumption, but he happily goes along with the pretense of being a weed-smoking bad boy in order to hide his ugly crying damp tendencies.
(8) Victorian heroine factor
It almost seems superfluous to even mention Sirius (and, to a lesser degree, Regulus) Black in this category. This category was made for Sirius, as is apparent when reading lynxindisguises (2023) description of the victorian heroine factor, in response to a question by the scholar @plecotusauritus:
“the Victorian Heroine Factor is a deeply scientific assessment of the Vibes. Is this person giving tragically beautiful, windswept Victorian Heroine, sobbing gently into their hands while sprawled across a boulder or a well or a fountain of some sort? When they look up at you, do their tear-plumped lips part elegantly as a single tear slides down their cheek?”
(9) elegant tear-wiping
There hasn't been a lot of research in this area, but I would like to propose handkerchiefs with embroidered initials and family crests as another potential factor in favor of the Black brothers scoring high marks in this category as well as the Victorian heroine factor.
(10) post-cry glow
Artbyace (2023) claims “lily is always beautiful (…) even when crying”, which is echoed by znelda’s (2023) earlier claim that “Lily (…) [is] a woman and no woman is ugly when crying.”
Sirius is the other popular choice by marauders scholars for this category, with @in-flvx (2023) stating that he “handsomely handsomes while dying after 12 years of torture hell and another year in shackles”, which would mean that “a few tears would[n’t] stop him from being the hottest person in the room at all times” (ibid).
Additional parameters
I am suggesting to introduce an additional metric in order to further specify and better assess the ugly-crying levels:
(11) explosiveness of cry
@felixantares (2023) introduces the idea that Remus “is the type that very few people have been seen cry because he ignores every difficult emotion hes (sic) ever had (…) and it all explodes at once and its horrible to watch when he breaks down”, a sentiment shared by several of the other authors mentioned above in various other categories.
Further opinions & conclusions
The most popular consensus seems to be that Sirius cannot be the ugliest crier, sometimes also in direct comparison to his brother: @spindrifters (2023) answers the question of the ugliest crier with “obviously it’s regulus”, elaborating that “at least [it’s] definitely not sirius bc (sic) reg is canonically less handsome in all ways” which brings up the question if regular beauty plays into ugly crying. This is contrasted by lynxindisguises argument, that Sirius may be an ugly crier because he’s so gorgeous, and his ugly crying subverts the expectations of beauty:
“the most beautiful man alive looks hideous while crying, and his deeply awkward and perpetually damp bf (sic) is literally in his element while crying – dampness becomes him, you might say.”
This statement raises yet another question – does regular crying make the crier more or less ugly? Can an ugly crier become a pretty crier by practice or are we all born either ugly or pretty criers, condemned to this fate for life?
While this paper has given an overview of the current state of research to ugly crying/pretty crying, it has also raised many more questions. Other topics which may be addressed in future papers also include the philosophical question whether ugly crying is in the eye of the beholder and if it is possible to ugly cry without being perceived, and if it is possible to ugly cry if the person perceiving you doesn’t find it ugly. Since the research field of ugly crying is a relatively new one, we can only hope to read many more opinions on these and other topics in the future, and I look forward to reading different scholar’s approaches to these highly relevant topics.
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