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flowercrowngods · 10 months

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this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)

When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne.

No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear.

His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths.

Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.

Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who—

Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave.

But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help.

They most certainly sound like they do.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much.

“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops.

Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath.

“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well. “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.”

There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.

What the fuck is happening?

He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision.

And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?

Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!”

He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one.

Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared.

It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.

But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.

His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!

“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."

He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting.

Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?”

But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now.

He doesn’t.

Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should—

“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react.

A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.”

Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort.

Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington.

Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now.

Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.

Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time.

He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.

“Munson?”

Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie!

“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away.

Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way.

“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign.

Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he—

The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts.

“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.

“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.”

A beat. “Everywhere.”

Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.”

He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?”

“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“

He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?

Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech.

“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.

What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?

What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.

Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what.

“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”

Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now.

“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”

Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.

“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.

And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right?

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.”

Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die.

And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake.

“Hagan did that to you?”

Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”

Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?”

Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.”

Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.”

And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?”

“What?”

There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?”

Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more.

“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.”

Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.

“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.”

“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over.

And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.

He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this.

He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.

But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly.

"Where‘re we going?"

And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.

"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.

"Safe?"

"Safe."

"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."

If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.

(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #this is somewhere between s3 and s4 obviously #but also i just re-read the op post and realised that this is nothing like what they wished for so uh. sorry? never trust me with prompts y #who did this to you #hurt steve #steve harrington whump #pre-steddie #sorry op maybe i'll try again and get it right this time but uh. yeah #dio words

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brehaaorgana · 4 months

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ADHD money/budgeting system I'm currently using for my benefit is going well (I've been using it for like half a year now?), and I wanna recommend it.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT. 10/10 do recommend. Uhhh rambling about it and my generic disclaimers + gushing extensively under the cut but TL;DR I think it's great for ADHD ppl, I've used it for 6+ months now and I find it super SUPER helpful. also weirdly fun.

DISCLAIMERS:

Budgeting helps you understand/know your money, it can't make money appear where there is none.

Everyone should learn to budget even if you don't have much money (especially then)

This is NOT a magic trick solution. Just like everything else, it is an assistive tool. This is one of those adult things we can't simply opt out of without negative consequences, though.

My advice is based on something I am currently able to do. That is, I can spend an amount of money on this specific thing that works well for me. If you have no extra money to spend then previously I was tracking things in a notebook. So you can still do this.

I believe Dave Ramsey is a fundie fraud/hack and no one should listen to him about money.

DID YOU KNOW THEY CANCELLED MINT???

Okay? OKAY.

Ahem.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT.

It is called YNAB for short. The first 34 days are your free trial, and that is my referral link. If anyone uses it and then signs up for a subscription, we both get a month free. Also you can share a subscription with up to six people (account owner can see everything but individuals can pick and choose what they share amongst each other) so like...idk your whole polycule can be on one account. Or your kids. Whatever.

If you are a student, it's free for a year. If you aren't, a subscription is $99 for a year (paid all at once) or $14.99 monthly, which is equivalent to paying Amazon prime. Go cancel Prime and get this instead tbh.

They got a whole article just on ynab and ADHD. They also have like...a big variety of ways to access their info? They have a book, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, blog posts, q&A's, free live workshops you can join (you can request live captioning), emails they can send (if you want) a wiki, and so on. They got workshops on all kinds of topics!!

So whatever ends up working for your brain. It also has a matching app.

If you lost Mint this year they have a gajillion things for moving from Mint.

Also they have a "got five minutes?" Page which has a slider so you can decide how much attention/time you have before going on lol:

They only have 4 rules of the budget, they're simple and practical, and it doesn't get judgey or like...mean about your spending.

1. Give every dollar a job 2. Embrace your true expenses 3. Roll with the punches 4. Age your money.

THEN THEY BREAK THESE DOWN INTO SMALL STEPS FOR YOU! They even have a printable! Also these rules are great because there's built in expectations that things WILL HAPPEN and it's NOT all or nothing with a fear of total collapse into failure. Reality and The Plan don't always align, especially if you have ADHD. So it's directing our energy towards the true expenses and not clinging to The Plan!! over reality.

You can automate a lot of shit (you can sync with your bank accounts just like mint, but also automate tagging the categories of regular expenses/transactions). And if for whatever reason you accidentally do something that makes the budget look weird or wrong:

A) you can usually fix it somehow OR b) they have like, a button you can press that gives you a clean slate and archives the previous version of the budget for you.

So if you forget for a few weeks or months, or accidentally input something wildly wrong, or just don't want to look at a really terrible month anymore and feel like you need a fresh start you can usually either fix it or start fresh which is really nice.

The app also (for whatever reason) scratches my itch to have things like...have incentives or little game-like goals in a way mint never did? I don't know why. Filling up the bars or putting money into the categories to cover my expenses is satisfying lmao. You can also make a big wish expense category for all the fun shit you want, and fund it whenever you can and then you can see the little bar go up and that's fun.

Anyways I've been using it for like 6+ months now and I think it's really helped me when I use it.

#adhd #adhd money #adult adhd #ynab #adhd blogging

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roanniom · 1 year

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also hi i reread the housewife!reader fic and uhhh eddie’s other ideas…like fucking you in only an apron?! hear me out: EDDIE is wearing the apron. *may be niche but i go feral for men in aprons!!!!!

The Apron

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, dirty talk, slight sub!Eddie but really switch energy from both Eddie and reader, hand job

Eddie does nice things for you all the time, so it isn't surprising to find him in the kitchen taking care of dinner after you called him from work telling him what a shit day you were having.

Hearing you close the front door, Eddie turns from the counter where he's chopping vegetables to give you the biggest grin.

"There you are, beautiful. Come over here and let me get you a glass of wine."

You drop your bag on the floor in awe. Again, not because you're shocked by Eddie doing something so nice but because of the very look of him right now. He's shirtless, wearing just a pair of boxers and tube socks. And your flower print apron.

When he doesn't hear you move further into the apartment, Eddie looks over his shoulder, worried.

"Babe? You okay?"

Not a second later, you're on him. You've got him pressed against the counter, your front pushing into his back. You have to stand up on tip toes to reach, but you plaster kisses to the back and side of his neck once you sweep his long hair out of the way.

"Mmm missed you," is all you manage to mutter against his skin. Eddie is frozen under your grasp, not knowing how to receive being manhandled in this way. It is quite the role reversal. In fact, this exact situation has happened many times, just flipped. With him engulfing you in his arms in the kitchen and grinding against you and whispering dirty words in your ear until you're nothing more than a puddle.

"Missed you, too, sweetheart," Eddie stutters in response. But your next action has him pushing away the knife he'd been holding so he can grip the edge of the countertop instead. You step so that both of your feet are on either side of his right one and push your hips against him, finding friction somewhere between the expanse of his thigh and the curve of his ass.

"Love seeing you make dinner for me," you say into his shoulder before nipping at it. Eddie intakes breath sharply on a chuckle.

"Yeah? You like me taking care of you?" he asks.

"Yeah. I do. It's really hot." Your hands go from his hips to rest over her hands where they grip the counter, interlacing your fingers with his tight ones. You have no idea where this dominance is coming from. Both you and Eddie have always been pretty switch-y, but without the context of the bedroom, this is almost out of character. But Eddie doesn't seem to mind. Not when he's shifting back against your hips and humming.

"If this alone is turning you on, wait till you find out what I'm making you."

"Oh yeah, pretty boy? What are you making me?" you ask, sucking a hickey directly into the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

"That pasta you like," he replies, but his voice is breathier than before. It makes you run your hands up his forearms and under the top of the apron. So you can run your fingernails across his bare chest. He hisses and buckles forward a tiny bit, giving you more to press yourself against.

"Sounds delicious," you whisper in his ear. "But maybe I'm hungry for something else."

Before Eddie can respond, you're pulling him to face you, pinning him back against the counter where you've trapped him since your arrival and grabbing his face to pull him down into a soul sucking kiss.

It's need and dirty, and the sounds that issue from both of you are nothing short of filthy.

This is what you needed. During your awful day at work where you're the assistant to a horrible boss, all you could think about was your lack of importance. Lack of control. You had absolutely no power and no autonomy, especially not in the face of an office full of men who treat you like a piece of meat.

It's not that you want to treat Eddie like a piece of meat, of course. You love him and you respect him. He is everything to you and he takes care of you like you've never been taken care of before. But there is a sort of rush flowing through your veins at the idea of manhandling him. Of getting him worked up and using him for you own (and his own) pleasure after a day of feeling so insignificant. Here, in the warmth of this kitchen, you’re nothing if not significant.

Your tongue plunders his mouth and your hands slide down to his waist, squeezing and gripping and groping. Yet again you step so that your feet are on either side of one of his. Eddie immediately bends at the knee, raising his thigh up to slot between yours and giving you a surface to press against. You're feeling needier by the second, but your urge to stay in control makes it so that you reserve yourself to only a few intentional rolls of your hips.

Eddie's hands are in your hair, on your neck, on your back, on your breasts. He's practically beside himself, preening underneath all of the unexpected attention you are lavishing on him.

When you finally pull back for a more considerable breath of air, Eddie tries to chase your lips, so you keep him held back by your grip on the hair at the nape of his neck. The sting of the pull makes him hiss and he grins at you, almost drunkenly.

"I'm not one to question a good thing, princess, believe me, but what's got you so worked up?" he asks. His voice is low and gravely and it makes you want to swallow his vocal cords. So you do the next best thing, licking up the column of his throat and sucking another bruise just to the left of his adam's apple, making him moan outright.

"You. You in this fucking apron," you grit out finally, all thoughts of gender norms and their uselessness swirling around in your head in flurry of lust and confusion. You pull away from him to take him in once more and end up running a hand down your face. "Oh...fuck."

"What?" Eddie asks before looking down and seeing exactly what you're reacting to - the prominent tenting of said apron directly over his lap. With nothing but the thin fabric of his boxers covering him, his erection is standing proudly, almost begging for your attention.

Eddie laughs at your wide eyed staring.

"Of course my dick is hard. What was it supposed to do with you comin' at me like that? Rubbing that sweet pussy all over me." His words are dismissive, as if he doesn't know the way they seep right to your very core.

"I don't know it's just..." you cock your head to the side and drink in the image of your man, wearing your apron in your shared kitchen, his hard on lifting the fabric with the strength of his desire for you. You run your hand from the top of the garment down to squeeze his length through the fabric. “It’s sexy.”

“Me cooking for you is hot and sexy? I’m never letting you in this kitchen again, baby.” Eddie tries to make his joke, but it comes out distracted as your hand moves beneath the fabric of the apron and under the waistband of his boxers. He’s hot and hard and aching, and you’ve barely done anything. There’s something in the way you’re looking at him that makes him whimper, a sound you definitely don’t miss. It makes you bring your hand back out, and you lift it to his face.

“Spit.”

He does as you order immediately, without even a thought. You return your now lubricated hand back beneath the apron and his boxers. The rub is slick as you start pumping him.

“Fuck,” he says quietly, staring down with hooded eyes. He’s watching the way your fist pumps under the apron, moving the fabric up and down with each tug of his cock.

“Like that, baby?” you all but coo. Eddie nods his head distractedly so you hum. “Yeah? Like it when I take care of you right back?”

The role reversal is heady and you love that he seems just as lost in it as you are. Not that you had really been worried he wouldn’t be into it - it’s Eddie, he’s into almost anything that includes his dick and your body - but you preen with pride that the vibe pushing your buttons today also works for him .

The only thing is he’s kinda quiet. And as someone who is used to a motor mouth Munson, you’re not satisfied with his gasping silence.

So you decide to egg him on.

“You know what I really need from you right now, Eddie?”

“W-what?”

You lean up on your tip toes, gripping Eddie by the back of his neck with your free hand to bring him down closer to you so you can breathe hotly in his ear.

“I really, really need you to cum.”

Eddie lets out a strangled moan as you couple your statement with a pointed swirl of your thumb on his sensitive, leaking slit. His hips rock forward into your hand and you laugh at his eagerness.

"I need you to cum all over my hand. Can you do that for me, Eddie?"

"Y-yeah, I can do that."

"For me, baby?"

"Anything," Eddie says, eyes all desperate and hazy but still finding yours. You shift the apron out of the way finally so you can both watch your hand pumping away at his swollen cock. You gasp dramatically at the sight.

"Oh look at that! It seems like you really do need to cum, huh?" You're teasing him, your voice all taunting. The sight of your smaller hand on his big, throbbing dick, mixed with the sound of your sweet condescension, makes Eddie groan. Teasing was usually his job, but having you do it made all the blood in his body shoot straight to the space between his thighs, even more than before. Which means there was absolutely none left to power his brain, leaving him to babble almost incoherently.

"Need it," he grunts.

"I know, baby. I can feel you throb in my hand. Gonna burst, huh?"

"Oh fuck..."

You lean up again and lick the shell of his ear, making him shiver.

"If you cum right now, how long do you think it'll take for you to get hard again?"

Eddie's brain glitches and he stutters, his fingers turning white against the edge of the countertop.

"I-I...I don't know..."

"You don't know? Hmm?" you ask, letting your free hand slide down from his neck, over his chest and abdomen, over your slick-wet hand where it tugs at him, and down to cup his balls. "Well why don't you hurry up and stain this apron so we can find out. Yeah?"

"Oh my fucking god," Eddie gasps in response, hips bucking into you at this point.

The two of you have done much more depraved shit than this, so he has no idea why he is melting like warm butter in the sun under your touch. But there's something about the confidence of your hand on him. The newness of the gravel and heat in your voice. The promise mixed with the command. It's unlocking a door he hadn't considered before in your dynamic, and out of nowhere he feels close to tears from a simple hand job.

His hazy eyes find yours again and you correctly read the plea in them. The need for you to follow through with the power you currently hold over him. The corner of your mouth quirks up into a grin and you lean forward to suck a dark and sudden mark into his throat before whispering huskily into his ear.

"Cum for me, big boy."

The moan Eddie lets out is otherworldly, filling the space of your small kitchen and echoing throughout your small shared home. His cock pulses in your grip and then he's cumming. Fast and hard. Hot spend shooting out over your fist and onto your apron and your work top. It's so much, all over and you let out a shuddering, pleased laugh.

"There we go. That's it, Eddie. That's it, baby," you encourage, milking his cock for all he's worth, helping him expel the last of his cum so that it dribbles down over your wrist. "Mmm, bet that felt so good, huh? Mmm look so pretty for me."

You're swept into Eddie's arms before you can praise him any further. He crushes your body to his and clings to you, his lips finding yours in a bruising kiss. It knocks the air out of you but fills your lungs nonetheless. The act calls attention to the throbbing between your own thighs, and within moments you find yourself rutting against his thigh almost unconsciously.

Eddie is the first to break the soul sucking kiss, though he does immediately move down to rip open the buttons of your work blouse to litter kisses over your neck, clavicle, and the swells of your breasts.

"Gonna take what you want from me, princess?" he hums gruffly, words made husky from the way his groans had abused his vocal cords. "You already took all my cum."

There it is. Not exactly dominance, but a glimmer of the cheeky confidence that usually colored every sexual encounter between the two of you. You feel your body heat up even further as a rush of adrenaline makes your hips move faster, pushing your clothed pussy over his thigh at a faster rate.

"You've got more to give," you respond breathlessly. Your smirk makes his already dark eyes darken impossibly further. "You've always got more." There. You're not letting go of control that easily. Eddie's answering smirk makes you realize that maybe neither of you need to let go. Maybe the two of you can continue this back and forth, this give and take. This dance of pushing and pulling, breaking each other down and building each other back up until time itself bends around the two of you.

Eddie, to your disappointment, pulls away from you enough to pull the soiled apron off his body. The movement calls attention back to his cock, now tucked back inside his ruined boxers, allowing you to see that he's begun to harden again in a marvelous show of stamina.

"I'll give you anything, baby," Eddie grins. He turns the stove off before hoisting you into the air. Your legs wind around his torso and your hands find his hair so you can mark the remaining pale real estate of his neck and shoulders as he stumbles towards the bedroom.

"Anything."

~*~

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I hope you enjoyed!!! Please let me know and thanks for reading!

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things smut

2K notes · View notes

runa-falls · 11 months

Text

scratches and bites - 3

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: explicit 18+, use of demeaning names, biting/marking/scratching, use of venom, a small amount of blood, unprotected sex, creampie (whoops), cumplay (whoops 2x), slight size kink (whoops 3x), bondage (0-0), feelings (bleh), needy wittle miguel :P

a/n: uhhh, this may have gotten away from me -- went from 1k to 4k real fast (or slow bc i'm a slow writer hehe)

summary: miguel o'hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. you regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. this is what happens when he's had enough.

w/c: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

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“Clean-up crew is on the way. You,” He points sharply in your direction, “come with me.” He roughly passes by you, purposely clipping the edge of your shoulder.

You sulk slightly and follow him into the portal, mood effectively ruined.

Everything worked perfectly in your eyes. You were able to save the family and a few people inside the building. You even had time to pick up a free hotdog.

“It’s on the house for you, Spider-Woman! Thanks for saving the day!”

“Aw, thanks, dude.”

Of course, before you could take a bite of your well-earned lunch, O’Hara’s hulking figure was standing over you. He’s angry.

Gwen wisely scurried off before you all got to the portal and Jess had better things to do than deal with whatever was going on between the two of you. So you’re effectively alone now. Great.

“The fuck did you think you were doing out there?” Miguel’s voice booms off the high ceilings of his office as he leads you toward his desk. He has this pretentiously slow platform that he loves to use to look down on people. You feel like a student that got called to the principal's office. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed–or worse, gotten someone else pulled into your fucking mess.”

You roll your eyes as soon as he passes, “Oh, come on O’Hara, you were about to bail on a car full of people and left a bunch of workers in the crumbling building because nothing is more important than your dumbass box of scraps and wires!”

He turns stiffly, jaw clenching at your words, but his eyes roam to anything else in the room but you. Like always. “You know we’ve been looking for that equipment for months. If we have any chance to hold back this multiverse annihilator even a few days, we’re gonna take it.” Miguel is as curt as ever, stance stiff as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected. Like he’s convincing himself he’s doing the right thing. And what you did was wrong.

“There were four of us out there, Miguel,” His eyes briefly meet yours at the sound of his given name. Something he has rarely heard you say since you’ve been in Nueva York. “The package was barely a struggle for one of us! You’re telling me we needed four hands to locate and retrieve that shit?” You gesture over to the crate resting on his computer platform.

He sighs like he’s tired of hearing your voice. Tired of being in the same room as you. His hand smooths over his face, “That’s not the point, Kid.” You could feel warmth blooming inside of your chest at his choice of words. It’s demeaning, and he knows it. As much as you hate him right now, you’re also loving this. You’re finally getting the chance to express all the frustration he’s inspired in you. And it’s satisfying to watch him get all wound up because you actually made the right move. He just can’t admit it.“What you did was beyond idiotic. You could’ve–”

“Well, I didn’t. And I’m not a fucking kid.” You spit out the words. His eyes immediately darken as you raise your voice. Bright cherry to rich blood.

Miguel rolls his shoulders back from annoyance and briefly closes his eyes. Irritated. You seem to always irritate him. His jaw is tight, and right under his full top lip you can almost make out– “What did I say about interrupting me?” He’s seething, head tilted slightly as pushes away from his desk and off the platform to you.

His deep voice is so low that you swear you can feel it surrounding you, vibrating the warm air that clings to the thin treads of your suit. “You’re so…” His fists clenched tightly and tension rolls off of him, crashing into you like a wave. “Difficult.” You try to stay brave and hold your head up, unwilling to cower under his superficial anger. “So fucking irritating.”

This is getting nowhere.

“So that’s why you called me in, hm?” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, but really, it’s his fault. This whole time he’s been inching closer and closer to you, taking up all your space. “To call me petty names? Tell me all the things that are wrong with me?” You have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him, he’s so close.

“No.” He drawls the word, his voice deep and muffled. Then you realize. His fangs. The stark change of the air in the room was enough to make your breath hitch. You suddenly feel trapped.

“I brought you here,” There are only a couple of inches separating your chest from touching his and you swear you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, almost simmering under his suit. “To teach you a lesson.” He leans down slightly, closing in the height distance between the two of you. You haven’t been this close to him since that night.

“W-what kind of lesson?”

“The kind that’ll persuade you to follow the rules.” Your knees nearly buckle as each word is lightly whispered next to your ear. He keeps his hands to himself, but it still feels like he’s wrapping himself around you. “To listen to me. Like a good girl.” Just as your body begins to mirror his and lean into his space, he backs up and strolls back to his desk.

Your eyes instantly lower and stay locked onto his spotless steel floors as you listen to him slowly walk away. You feel your face heat in embarrassment as you become more self-aware of the way your body reacted to him. He hadn’t even touched you.

“Come here.” Your head tilts up slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s sitting back on his desk chair, legs spread confident and inviting as he watches you watch him through hungry eyes. He can tell your mind is brimming with overlapping thoughts as you decide whether to listen to him or not.

Some part of you worries you’re being lured into a trap. That O’Hara, one of the least genuine people you know, is playing with you. But your body doesn’t really seem to care, already moving until your ankles meet the edge of the barely floating platform. The air around you is cool and empty without his presence. Your body craves more of Miguel’s natural heat.

“...Closer.” You shuffle over until you’re a couple of feet away, fingers twisting together with uncertainty. He’s looking at you, leering at you. Virtually devouring you with that scarlet stare of his. If he wanted, he could reach over and pull you closer, eliminating the space between you, but he decidedly doesn’t, clearly wanting you to come to him.

“Don’t worry, honey, I don’t bite – oh wait,” He grins at his own joke, fangs proudly poking out from under his plump lips. You don’t realize how hard you're biting your lip until it starts to seriously sting. Your teeth release your aching lip and his gaze follows the action before meeting your eyes.

“Unless you want me to.” You haven’t uttered a word in a while and you don’t really want to. You’re completely content to continue to soak in the words that slip from his tongue. “Do you?”

Yes.

“Do I…”

“...want me to bite you.” He openly runs his soft tongue over the contours of his fangs.

Yes.

“B-bite…?”

“Mhm. Make you all numb and pliant for me?” He finally reaches over and gently tugs you closer by your arm. You let him. “That what you want, hermosa?” Your body slots seamlessly in the space between his thighs. His face cradles perfectly into the crook of your neck. You sigh, subconsciously leaning closer as his tender lips hover sweetly over your covered throat.

He whispers, barely audible against your skin, “Promise it’ll only hurt for a second.”

Yes.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t waste any time.

A hand drifts up your arm to the flexible collar of your suit. He tugs it down lightly, revealing your bare skin to the cool air. It’s not enough for him. With a hushed tear, he uses a claw to split the fabric down to the top of your shoulder, giving him more access to your body. He pushes your hair back and nudges himself closer to you, nose nestling where your neck meets your shoulder. He breathes you in. “Sweet.” His voice barely carries with how soft he says it.

The balmy heat of his breath sweeps along the side of your neck before his lips finally connect. His hands trail against your waist, slowly caressing you as he slowly presses kisses into your skin, trailing his lips down until he finds the spot. You tilt your head to the side as you feel the light scratch of his fangs.

“Hold on to me, baby.” Your gloved hands grip his thick forearms. He bites down.

It hurts in the beginning like you thought it would. Like he said it would. You try to disguise your wince, but you can’t stop the way your body flinches at the sensation. It’s intense, the sharp pain, and it spreads, traveling down from your neck to your toes.

And then, something clicks. It vanishes. That ache gets replaced with an endless warmth that relaxes every muscle in your body. Your hands, once clenched around Miguel, begin to loosen so the only thing that’s holding you up is him.

Everything touching your skin feels amazing. The heat of his hands. The suit that's starting to slowly fall down your shoulder.

Your eyes glaze over with pleasure as you watch him pull away from your body to look at you. His tongue pokes out, swiping over his bottom lip to collect the mixture of residual venom and your blood. Are you bleeding? You lean closer and your hands reach out for his shoulders.

“That good, hm?” Even his voice feels good.

You use his solid form to keep you steady as you boldly crawl onto his lap, “Really, really, good.” He hums and you feel his chest vibrate against yours. His arms easily wrap around your form as he waits patiently for you to get comfortable on top of him.

In this moment you realize how this will change everything. And you’re not talking about the bit.-- Ok, not just the bite.

It’s seeing him like this that flips your world. Feeling his touch. The gentle way he holds you against him and the patient way he lets your fingers trail down his strong chest until you’ve decided you’ve had enough. He makes you feel special. Wanted. Everything that you’ve craved since you followed him here. The same thing he offered you before taking it away.

So you’re scared. You don’t know if you could ever let this go because you know you’ll always yearn for moments like this. If he pushes you away again…

The fog in your head dissipates and it’s like you’re waking up. You catch his eye and his brows furrow. He senses something’s wrong. His hand cradles yours and gives you a comforting squeeze.

“What is it?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“What do you mean?” His eyes are sincere as they try to read your crestfallen expression.

“Just…” You exhale slowly and rest your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t do this then walk away, Miguel.” Your words hang in the air for a few seconds as he takes them in.

Great, you ruined the mood. “Look, Miguel, I–” He softly lifts your head and leans in to press his forehead against yours. You’re so close he could probably feel your eyelashes brush against his cheeks.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He draws you in and kisses you deeply, taking your breath away with his tender touch. It feels like a promise like he’s signing the dotted line of your heart. “I’m yours.” It’s whispered against your lips when he pulls back and you can help the grin that sprouts from his words. He matches it.

“Yeah?”

You’re pulled back in, “Mhm…” Muffled, but absolute.

Kissing Miguel is exactly how you imagined it to be: addictive.

Maybe it’s the residual venom left on his tongue, but the way he moves against you, mouth and body, makes your legs tremble. Makes you ache for him.

You melt against him, drunk on his taste and leaning in for more. His hands go from cradling your face and delicately tracing your neck to massaging your thighs, hands practically draping over you with the size difference.

He delicately licks into your mouth, greedily taking in every aspect of your taste. Your lips vibrate excitingly when his tongue brushes against them, they’re super sensitive from how long he’s been working them.

You feel him under you, nestled achingly against your ass. He throbs eagerly every time you let out a breathless sigh or a muffled moan. You’re no better. You swear you already have a wet spot ruining your suit from all the times he ‘accidentally’ grips his claws into the curve of your hips.

You whimper quietly when you feel the sharp point of his fang drags ever so slightly across your bottom lip. As he moves downwards, it delicately tugs at it, briefly revealing the bottom row of your teeth before releasing it. He moves his mouth along the line of your jaw and then focuses on the sensitive bite he left to bloom red and purple on your neck.

With his hands back on your waist, he starts to lick up the small droplets of blood that were staining trails down your shoulder. It stings wonderfully as he laves against it, cleaning the red off your smooth skin. You can’t help but to cry out as he begins to suck at your sensitive skin, it’s a bit more intense than you were expecting, but it feels really good. He blows cool air on it when he releases your skin, soothing the new mark he’s left on you.

His mouth is back on yours, letting you taste your own blood as your tongues intermingle with fervor. Fingers tug at the front of your suit to pull you impossibly closer as your teeth nash against one another. You hear a faint rip between you as his grip tightens and pulls at the stretchy material. Your skin quickly reacts as the cool air wraps around you, arms prickling with goosebumps and nipples tightening into hard buds.

You both pull back and look down at the damage. Your suit is split down the middle of your torso, revealing everything from your heaving chest to your belly button. Your body ignites with heat when you notice how his crimson eyes drink you in. A soft growl vibrates from his chest.

“Miguel, this is the only suit I have.”

“My bad.” Zero remorse in his voice. Asshole.

He abruptly grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind you with one hand causing you to arch your back, inevitably giving him a better look. “God, you’re sexy.” His other hand slowly molds over your waist and smooths it upwards to grasp your tit with a playful squeeze. Using his gloved thumb, he teases the soft peak of your nipple, flicking it once just to hear you gasp. He does it once more, grinning (with his fangs cutely poking out) when you react the same way.

“Miguel…” You whine out, pouting at his teasing.

He idly drags his claws down your stomach, enjoying the way your breath hitches when he gets closer to your center. “You always go without a bra under there?”

“It’s a tight suit.”

“It is…” His hand trails down to your inner thigh and you shift slightly, leaning back so he can touch exactly where you need him. He gets the hint and gently cups you over your damp suit. “And here…?”

Your bottom lip tucks into your mouth as you look up at him, nodding softly. “And there.”

You’re suddenly being carried by Miguel, weight supported by his strong arms. You have to quickly wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward. He hurriedly takes you over to his desk and sets you down at the edge of the waist-level table.

He is so tall that you struggle a bit to keep your hold around his neck so you settle your hands back on his chest. You push at his firm figure and sit back to fully take him in. “And how about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you wear anything under that unbearably tight suit?”

“I do, actually. Wanna see?”

You’ve heard the rumors of Miguel’s nano-suit, but you’re still perplexed when he grabs his interdimensional watch from the desk next to you. He clicks a couple of holographic buttons and you watch in awe as his suit seems to dissolve off of him, one particle at a time, like it never existed in the first place. The fading red and navy reveal his perfectly muscled body, somehow making him look even bigger in front of you.

He did, in fact, have some briefs on under the suit, but it’s what’s under it that catches your attention. Your thighs clench together as you watch him set down the timepiece, his arm unintentionally flexing under the dim lighting.

Miguel returns to you and you spread your legs slightly so he can stand directly in front of you. You slowly reach out to him, palm to the skin, and soak in the natural heat of his body. You can feel his heart beating under his chest, slow and steady.

“You’re hot.”

He has that teasing grin back on his face, “Am I?”

“I mean…warm.”

He shrugs, “Us Spiders run hot.”

Miguel moves your hand off of him and sets it on the table before pushing his body closer to you, making your legs push out further. He leans in so close that you have to slowly tilt your body back with him. “Bet you’re warmer.”

He shifts your body further onto the table and then starts working on the rest of your suit. It tears easily from your body, scraps falling to the floor until you’re fully bare in front of him. You pant as you watch him and feel your center pulse in reaction to his rough handling. “There we are.” His voice is soothing, but his eyes flash dangerously. You arch your back slightly as his claws scrape lightly over your stomach to your most sensitive area. You don’t even have to look down to know you’re dripping, you can feel it all over your inner thighs.

His fingers glide over your glistening lips, spreading your eager wetness leisurely. His claws are gone. You watch his face as he stares at his actions, his hungry eyes dark with lust. You both groan when one finger dips in, pushing gently against your entrance. You’re practically gushing around him as he starts to move, wet sounds accompanying each thrust. A string of slick follow his hand as he pulls away and it drips carelessly on your flushed thigh. With hooded eyes, Miguel holds up his dripping finger, “Open.” You suck on him enthusiastically, holding his gaze as it’s slipped into your mouth. “Fuck.”

His briefs are shoved down his muscular thighs before you can look down and you’re shoved roughly onto your back. You feel his claws dig into your thighs as he spreads you out for him, pushing them back until they're next to your waist. His warm hardness slides against your weeping pussy, covering him in slick as he prepares himself.

Your breath hitches as his cock pushes inside of you, nearly stretching you to your limit. You try your best to take deep breaths, but it’s hard when you can literally feel each inch sinking into your body. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as he feels you involuntarily clench around him, invariably sucking him in further. His eyes are almost glowing with how bright red they are. “Relax for me baby, I’m almost in.”

Your thighs tremble under his hands as he continues to plunge in deeper, unable to keep up with all the stimulants surrounding you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls is exquisite and you can barely hold yourself back from cumming right there.

Then he starts moving.

His hips drag back, pulling almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside of you. Your head tilts back with pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut, you can’t even tell what you’re holding on to. He keeps this slow pace, body nearly engulfing you as he hovers above. A moan follows each thrust as he fucks you into his desk.

When your eyes are finally able to flutter back open, you meet his stare. You quickly attempt to hide your face with your arm, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with him while he’s using your body like this. He doesn’t like that.

Your wrists are forced above you and then expertly webbed together to hold them there. His red webs pulse hot around your wrists. Unlike the traditional webs that tend to feel like cool lace, his are warm, like fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists, almost thrumming with soft heat in a way that makes them feel alive.

You yelp when his hand tugs sharply at the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze as he moves over you. “Look at me, baby.” You listen. He begins to aim his thrusts upwards into you, nudging against that special spot inside of you. And as hard as you try to keep looking at him, your eyes inevitably roll back as he hits it so precisely. You faintly see stars.

You cry out as heat blooms your center and your thighs close around his hips, tightening as a spark swarms in your lower belly. “That’s it, baby,” He speeds up, feeling you start to clench around him, “let go.”

Your vision blurs when your climax blasts through your body. Hot tears spill from the intensity of the feeling, creating hot trails of wetness over your cheeks. “Such a pretty little thing." He wipes them away lovingly. Your body jerks with pleasure and Miguel has to hold your waist down as your back starts to arch off the desk.

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he starts fucking you harder, letting his body weight hold you in place as he chases his own high. You whine against his neck, skin sticky with sweat, as he roughly ruts into you. “Be mine, baby, and I’ll take care of you forever.” His claws dig into your web-pasted wrists as he works himself into you, post-orgasm slick smothered carelessly over the both of you. “I promise.” He whispers breathlessly next to your ear.

“Please.” The word is nearly stuck in your throat as he continues to take everything your body is willing to give him. He’s basically grinding his cock into you now, wanting you as close as possible for these last moments. You barely hear it but he whimpers against your shoulder as he starts to draw closer to his climax, desperately rutting his hips against you.

With a choked-out groan, his movements grow sloppy and he thrusts deep inside of you a few more times. You feel the warmth of him as he spills inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He’s panting above you, body weight nearly smothering yours. You love it.

He slowly pulls out once he’s calmed down, eyes locked onto your leaking center that’s full of a mixture of you and him. His fingers lovingly spread his cum over your pussy and you flinch as he slides against your sensitive clit. You give him a look of disapproval which he ignores as he pushes his mess back inside of you.

“Will you let me out of these now?” You pull at the webs, still holding your arms above you.

“Hm…I think I’ll keep you there for a little bit longer.”

–

His office is like a bat cave when you’re barely dressed. There’s a slight breeze in the office (you have no clue where it’s coming from) that’s making it particularly drafty. You force Miguel to huddle over you like some oversized puffer jacket as it was his fault the only clothes you came with are lying on the floor in scraps.

“How am I supposed to leave when my suit is in tatters?”

His arms hold you tighter, “You aren’t. You’re staying with me.”

“Miguel, people are probably looking for us by now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Miguel.”

“Alright, fine. You can borrow one of my nano-suits, but we’re going to my place.”

“Dude, you’re like 6’3”, how am I supposed to fit into one of those?”

He tsks, “Really? You’re calling me ‘dude’ after all of this?” He grabs his watch again, scrolling through some settings. “It’s nano-tech, sweetheart, it fits what I want it to fit.” He dials the size down, letting you watch as the hologram shrinks to display your general size. “And I’m 6’7.”

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taglist: @deputy-videogamer @syd-vixious @bachirasbasics @danaeaurelia @reuxxi @halparkebitch @kittekat420

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara smut

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anenbylittlepotato · 18 days

Text

Tears of Love

Includes: Zhongli, Furina, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Itto, Ei

Warnings: Furina's is post-Fontaine archon quest bc I doubt she would be in any relationship pre-archon quest. Both Neuvillette and Furina contain vague spoilers

How Genshin character would react to you hugging them while crying and then saying "I just love you so muuuucch..."

Also, uhhh hey guys, I know I haven't written anything in 5 million years haha, sorry... I have been died dw about it. To make up for it I'm going crazy go stupid with this one. Gonna try and make a part 2 and maybe part 3 but idk when or if it’ll even happen

Zhongli

When he sees you crying, he is instantly concerned.

And then, when you run up and hug him, he's even more concerned as he hugs back, gently placing his hand on your head and rubbing your back comfortingly.

"My love? What is the matter, dear?

He gently moves his hand from the back of your head to cup your cheek when you look at him with them big ol wet eyes.

"I just love you so muuuuccch!"

He looks taken aback for a moment, surprised by that response.

Then he chuckles warmly and looks at you with all the love and adoration in the world

"My beloved, you and your love mean the world to me. Your brilliant radiance is more than enough to light up even the darkest corners of my mind. I cannot dream of spending my days without you, but if such a day were to ever occur, I would carry your memory with me at all times with all the warmth and love in my soul."

This makes you cry even more

"Aaaaaa I love you so much...."

He gently presses his forehead to yours.

"I love you too, my dearest."

And then he kisses you softly.

Afterward, he sits down with you, holding you gently.

Furina

When you come up to her crying, she's instantly panicking.

Oh no did she do something wrong? Did she say something that upset you??? Has she been neglecting you??? Did she forget something important? Oh no oh no oh no-

And then you hug her and she's like. Okay. Did someone else do something to upset you? She's not sure what she can do now that she's no long on the archon throne, but she'll try whatever she has to! Or maybe something else happened, maybe something that has nothing to do with other people, maybe some horrible thing happened to you like what happened to her.

"S-S/O? Are you okay?? What happened, what's wrong?"

Then you look at her with those big ol wet eyes and she turns to mush inside.

"I just love you muuuuuccccchhh..."

For several moments she just stares at you, not knowing how to respond.

And then she also starts getting emotional

"Oh."

She hugs you back really tightly, burying her face against you.

"I... I love you tooooo...."

And now you're both crying and telling each other how much you love each other.

Neuvillette

The moment he sees you crying, the beginning of rain can be heard outside.

He absolutely hates seeing you upset in any way and he immediately wants to just hold you in his arms and take all your stress and pain.

He immediately walks over and sits next to you.

"S/O? Are you alright? What's happened?"

He is a little surprised when you hug him, but not entirely, and he hugs back, gently rubbing your back.

"It's alright, dear, take your time."

"I just- I just- I love you so muuuuuuuucccchhhh..."

Well he certainly was not expecting that.

It starts raining outside even heavier.

"Ah... Is that... Not a good thing...? I am uncertain as to why this would make you sad..."

You uh... You'll have to explain to him that crying doesn't necessarily only happen when you're sad, but just when you're overwhelmed by An Emotion. Any emotion. Even positive ones.

He won't really understand all that well but he's trying 🥺 He'll definitely be thinking about it for the rest of the week and might even do some research about it if he manages to find the time.

In the moment, though, he just holds you and tells you how much he loves you as well. He is a little confused when this makes you cry more, but he doesn't say anything.

Kaveh

Like Furina, he also panics instantly the moment he sees you crying.

He's much more frantic and open about it though.

"Oh no, darling, sweetheart, are you okay?! What's wrong?! Did I do something wrong, what happened?!"

Then you hug him and he's surprised.

"S/O...?"

"I just- I love you so muuuuccchh!"

Kaveh.exe has stopped working

"Wha- You- I-"

My poor boy instantly melts into a puddle, becoming a complete emotional wreck.

This man is so fragile he just shatters like glass and the dam breaks and out come the tears, and now he's crying harder than you.

He somewhat incoherently babbles about how much he loves you and hugs you so tightly, just completely falling apart.

... He may have also been drinking a bit before this.

Okay, not a bit. A lot.

And now, even though you were the one who was crying initially, you're gonna have to sit down with him and try to calm him down

This poor pathetic little man... he's such a mess... I love him...

Itto

Also one of the panickers. Except he's stupid about it.

He actually has absolutely no idea how to deal with someone who's sad. He doesn't get sad often himself and his gang aren't the type to get sad often either.

So the MOMENT you hug him crying, he is freaking the fuck out

"Oh, nononono, baby, don't cry, don't cry! Hey it's okay, it's alright, don't cry!"

When he can't get you to calm down right away, he's immediately thinking of other solutions.

"Hey, ya wanna go see Granny Oni? She always knows exactly what to do to cheer me up when I'm sad!"

You have to stop him from picking you up and running off with you to take you to Granny Oni.

"No- Itto. I'm not sad, it's just.... I love you so muuuuch..."

He blinks a couple times.

"What"

For once, the man is speechless.

But only for a couple moments.

"Wait, but if you're not sad, then why are you crying???"

You'll have to explain it like with Neuvillette, except Itto's dumb so it'll take a lot longer for him to pick it up.

You end up spending so long trying to explain it that you end up not crying anymore and just laughing at him

And that just makes him more confused

"You were just crying a minute ago why are you laughing???"

Himbo <3

When she sees you crying she is surprisingly sweet about it.

She walks over and gently cups your cheeks, tilting your head to look up at her.

"What's the matter, dear? Are you alright?"

Her voice is so soft and gentle.

She isn't too surprised when you hug her and she hugs back, gently rubbing your back.

“I just- I love you so muuuucccchhh….”

She’s a little surprised by that response for a moment.

But once she processes it, she is just so endeared by it.

She looks at you with such a lovesick smile.

Like she feels like her heart is about to burst with love omg

She chuckles gently and pats your head.

“I love you too, dear.”

Afterward, she kisses you on the forehead, and then on the lips.

All she wants to do after that is hold you gentle in her arms

And she’s going to do exactly that

She takes you to your bed and gently holds you so that your head is on her chest

Doesn’t matter if you’re bigger than her. Your face? On the booba

I had to tag Neuvillette so many times bc apparently no one knows how to spell it 😭 Two Ls and two Ts people

If you like my writing, consider buying me a coffee! It really helps me out and helps me keep doing this!

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thefunkfactory · 27 days

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The New Gym Bro

Beau was antsy as he was driving over to the gym, he had just gotten over a bad cold and finally felt good enough to return to the gym. You see the gym Beau goes to has something special about it, it is where he gets to see his gym crush. Upon entered the gym Beau realized something was off, the cute little twunk that worked at the front desk was now a buff jock with a porn stache, looking at himself in his reflection and flexing his arms. “Uhhhh hi do you know where the membership card scanner is?” Beau asked politely, “Huhuhuh oh broooooo” the hunky receptionist moronically spoke “ We don’t do uhhh memberships anymore broooo! New uhhhhh management brooo, everyone is welcome nowwww” The receptionist flexed his arms again. “Oh ummm okay thank you!” Beau cheerfully said, walking past the front desk towards the locker room, that’s when he smelled it. Wafting through the air was the smell of sweat and B.O., very normal for a gym but today it was something else, something strong, something potent and offensive to a normal nose. Beau being grossed out just simply groaned to himself and thought to himself, “I guess letting anyone in brought in more unhygienic teens”. Upon entering the locker room it was quite empty but he saw two guys round a row of lockers and start coming towards him, both pretty hunky, with porn staches and mullets. One had his arm draped over the other’s shoulders as they approached and the other looked dazed, almost like he had been drugged, as the two guys passed Beau smelled the most rancid smell ever pouring out of the guys and polluting the air. Beau covered his nose with the collar of his shirt and the not dazed looking guy said as they passed “What? Huhuh cant handle the smell of real men brochacho? That’ll change soon enough huhuhuh!”. Paying little mind to the weird comment, Beau went to a locker and got changed and went back out to the gym.

After working out for a little over an hour and a half, he was getting fed up by the manly stench filling the entire building, getting off of the treadmill, Beau grabbed his stuff and began walking back towards the locker room. That’s when it happened, Beau heard from behind “Yo bro! Wait up” and then felt a sweaty hand slam down on his shoulder, “What is it?!” Beau said a little annoyed that he just got slapped on the shoulder with a sweat drenched palm. Turning around, Beau’s brain went haywire, standing in front of him was his gym crush, and he was talking to him! “Huhuhuh brooo I uhhhhhhh couldn’t help but see you were leavin’!” His crush said. It took Beau a second to realize whi this guy was, it was his gym crush! But he looked so different, he was beefier and he resembled the receptionist and the two guys in the locker room more than he resembled himself from two weeks ago. “Oh yea I was about to head home” Beau responded, “Do you think I can like uhhhh huhuhuh interest you in doing a set with me homie?”, wanting to take his crush up on the offer but knowing he too drained to do it without embarrassing himself Beau politely declined. “Awww man” Beau’s crush said dejectedly, “I really wanted to do something with you! Uhhhh do you think I could maybe take you out to dinner then?”. Shocked that his crush wanted to wine and dine him Beau couldn’t muster a response for a second, but then he just nodded and shyly said “I’d like that, I would like that a lot”, his crush grinned and joyfully and boisterously responded “ALRIGHT! THATS AWESOME I'M SO HYPED BROOO! Oh my name is Maverick by the way let me give you my number homie”. Upon getting his number Beau made his way to the locker room absolutely giddy and unable to stop thinking about his (hopefully) soon to be boyfriend. Beau got changed and was about to close the locker when he heard from an approaching familiar voice, “Oh one last thing before I can take you out on the town!”. Beau turned around and was face to face with Maverick, maybe it was because the space they were in before was bigger or because the gym already had a cacophony of foul stench hanging in the air but Beau suddenly just noticed how rank Maverick smelled, especially since Maverick just raised his arm above his head. Maverick released a puff of stench from his unwashed armpit right into Beau’s face, coughing, Beau covered his nose and mouth, “Nuh uh uh brooo” Maverick proclaimed, “Let the stink help you let it helped me”. Not understanding what Maverick was talking about Beau just wanted to leave and no longer take Maverick up on the date offer, but suddenly he watched Maverick’s hand slink to the back of his head and Beau then felt as Maverick violently and suddenly pulled him into Maverick’s reeking pit. Catching a big whiff on accident Beau felt as taking a hit straight from the source made him feel fuzzy everywhere. As he slowly lost control of his body Beau heard Maverick utter, “Not much to change with you broooo huhuh, makes my job easier, normally having to transform the nerds and weaklings takes so long!”

Trying to push back and resist, Beau was doing well and probably would’ve eventually escaped his funky prison if it wasn't for the fact that Maverick’s man-stink was essentially brainwashing Beau’s brain into liking the stink and craving more of it. Beau, against his own will, stopped struggling for his freedom and submitted himself completely to Maverick’s B.O. That's when it started, unlike other people Maverick had transformed, Beau was already quite the perfect specimen of masculinity, the only issue was that he didn’t follow the gym’s new dress code or follow the gym’s strict rules on fragrances. Maverick was going to help Beau fall in line. Beau felt his feet grow a bit, becoming cramped in his sneakers and then worse than that they got itchy, really itchy, at first it seemed like a random thing but then the itch kept growing and growing, refusing to stop. As his feet grew bigger and increasingly itchy, Beau felt his armpits do the same. Reaching into his left pit with his left hand, Beau forced his hand into his newly minted jungle of foul-smelling hair, just like a dumb ape. He felt his crotch get really itchy as well, with his left hand still in his own fetid armpit, Beau sent his right hand down to quell the itch in his pants. By the time he started scratching his crotch, he felt a forest of pubes coming in, a thick, curly, forest that reeked of sweat and cum. No matter how much he scratched Beau couldn’t stop the itchy feeling even a little bit, moving his beefy right hand down from his bush and onto his shaft, he began to slowly play with his fuckstick. Maverick watched jovially as he saw Beau reach the point of no return, once a man starts jerking it he is too far gone in the transformation to be saved…or so Maverick thought.

Suddenly as he was touching himself, Beau pushed away from Maverick, freeing himself from the pit reeking of decay. “Huhuhuh woah no one has resisted me this far into their transformation bro! You are something else!” Maverick cockily said. Beau, still affected by the pit funk clouding his brain, was unable to respond. “Well, it looks like I’ve been bested bro! You win!” Maverick said in the same cocky tone. Beau, now regaining more control as the fog wore off, retorted with “You…are…such a…freak!”, “That might be true,” said Maverick, “But do me a favor…smell your fingers”, Beau, trying to resist the influence that Maverick and his stink still had over him hid his fingers away in a clenched fist but, as he lost the battle of will, Beau unclenched his left hand, brought it underneath his nose, and took a big whiff. Feeling the malodorous scent of his own armpit rushing through his head, Beau returned his free will and walked back to Maverick, “Huhuhuh you are so weak bro! Welcome back to manhood tho!” Maverick announced as he watched Beau’s head slump down. Leading him to a full length mirror, Maverick made Beau look at himself and said to him “Look at you, tried to fight your destiny and now you are even weaker than before, how stupid. I hope you know that for your insolence, i'm gonna make you the stinkiest, dumbest, most incompetent gym bro I have ever made. You are gonna smell so nauseating and vile that you are gonna run off all of your friends and lovers, and you are gonna be so idiotic that you are gonna need someone to watch over you and keep you safe and happy. But don't worry, I love your stink and I don't mind watching over you, especially once I strip you down.” Maverick watched as Beau’s shorts grew a mountain in them as he heard what he was about to finally become. “Good boy,” Maverick said as he groped Beau’s meat stick.

Grabbing the back of his head for a second time, Maverick took Beau’s head and stuck it right back into his stinking pit. Beau’s transformation, beginning where it left off, started to force a mustache out of his top lip. A torrent of thick, dark hair pushed out of his upper lip creating a porn stache perfect for a 70’s porn star. Being so close to the Maverick’s musty pit, Beau’s new stache became tainted, stinking to high heaven with Maverick’s pit funk, constantly dumbing Beau down as he will now always be forced to huff the funky stench. Beau returned his hand back to his long fuckstick as he began to play with it again, just in time for his brain to melt into the cum churning in his big smelly balls. As Beau huffed more and more of Maverick’s armpit, his mind began to fade, more and more of his memories dissipated and dissolved, not even being replaced, just leaving an empty space in his mind as to keep him as dumb and empty as possible and the same thing began to happen to his intellect, leaving Beau with the intelligence of a 9th grader but leaving all the knowledge Beau has on how to pleasure a man fully intact.

Beau, completely transformed, began to feel his balls grow too full to comfortably hang normally, he knew he was about to abdicate his seed. Gaining more and more pressure, Beau couldn’t keep it from happening, all at once he shot out the biggest load he ever had right into his shorts. As a huge wet spot appeared, Maverick finally released Beau from his funky armpit, not like the locker room smelled much better at that point. Maverick kissed Beau and said “I'm so glad to find the perfect new gym partner and a perfect new boyfriend all in one tight package, especially one that smells as putrid as you!”, flexing his arms, Beau sniffed both is pits and guffawed like the big oaf he just became.

#musk #dumber #armpits #jock tf #TTF

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thatswhatsushesaid · 7 months

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i have been obsessing over this extremely short moment post-sunshot campaign for weeks now trying to put together a lengthier post about it, but i think the screenshots themselves arranged chronologically speak for themselves. so i will just post them and then talk about the framing, because i’m insane about it.

just about everyone else on this side of the banquet hall within the scorching sun palace is looking towards jin guangshan as he speaks—everyone except for:

1) jin guangyao, who is staring straight ahead with a startlingly flat and resigned expression on his face, despite being seated in a position of honour beside his brother, and

2) nie huaisang, who is obviously TRYING to pay attention, but his attention keeps wandering between looking at nie mingjue, and looking at jin guangyao

(also he gets no further commentary/acknowledgement from me but look at jin zixun back there just lounging in his seat like a smug spoiled brat. ugh. step on legos forever jin zixun.)

the camera shifts its focus while jgs keeps talking to zero in on jgy’s expression. this deliberately highlights and provides us the chance to see his expression in more detail. and it is so hard to discern what he is feeling specifically beyond “not great,” but what stands out for me is: he isn’t wearing his usual polite, customer service mask, the one he managed to keep in place both during the introductory sequence at the cloud recesses in the face of so much mockery from the jiang sect disciples.

so what is that expression? what is going on in his head that he can’t play the part that he’s perfect for years now, when he has supposedly almost achieved everything he ever dreamed of accomplishing for himself and his mother? i mean, i have my suspicions of course, because we know what is going to happen very soon.

and then—

—the focus of this scene changes, drawing our attention away from jin guangyao towards nie huaisang where he’s seated just behind nie mingjue. because nie huaisang is not paying attention to jgs’s speech or watching his da-ge. unlike everyone else in this banquet hall in this moment, nie huaisang is looking at jin guangyao, observing him in this moment where his polite mien has failed him, and god what i wouldn’t give to know what is going through his head!! because:

1) i don’t for a moment believe nmj told nhs the details of what transpired between him and jgy during their confrontation in the scorching sun palace. i don’t think he did this as a favour to jgy or to lxc, either. imo this decision would be consistent with nmj shutting down any discussion of what caused him to exile meng yao from the unclean realm back in… uhhh, episode 10?? when nhs, wwx and jc all converge in the unclean realm throne room to ask about meng yao’s fate. (yeah it was episode 10.) anyway for all we know this is the first time nhs has seen his old body guard/babysitter since he watched meng yao totter feebly into the wild blue yonder all those months ago, and now here he is seated in a place of honour between jin zixuan and his da-ge, looking perhaps even more miserable than he did while bleeding from a giant sword wound in his chest. it is entirely consistent with nhs’s character to be like ‘???? what is up with this??’ but not even he is bold enough to ask jgy what is up in the middle of this banquet, not with da-ge right there.

2) his expression is ALSO harder to read than it would have been when they were last together!! but there are clearly gears and cogs shifting and ticking and whirring behind his eyes, and the fact that the framing calls attention to nhs noticing jgy in this moment when it’s quite clear no one else does is one of many hints the show is dropping for us that nhs is more than just a lackadaisical and absent-minded second son. he notices things that no one else does—but, as with jgy, we are left to guessing as to what he is thinking, and what conclusions he is drawing.

well okay it looks like i managed to write a lot of words down about this after all!! go me.

#mdzs meta #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #he did crimes??? good for him 😌#let him have birds!! 🕊️#i am obsessed with their cql dynamic #gonna go to my grave wondering about what could have been if they had just noticed each other a little bit more

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jahiera · 8 months

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How To Know If Your Evil Vampire Boygirlfriend Really Likes You (a meta on Astarion's manipulations of Tav deeper into the romance.)

Okay, this was supposed to be a response to this ask right here, and it got so long I decided to just put it in its own thing for slightly easier reading. Thank you again to the asker for giving me an excuse to go off the rails talking about THE BOY. This also got long enough that it needs. Subheadings. And it is [checks notes] 3.6k words long. If you're interested in skipping the act 2 Scene Breakdown and going straight for the character analysis of Act 3 specifically, you can jump to the uhhh 3. Yeah He's Manipulative (Trauma Edition) subheading.

Prefacing that this is just my personal interpretation of Astarion here, the game leaves several moments ambiguous on purpose & I'd be super intrigued to hear what anyone else thinks is going on in this rancid little lad's head. This became more of a process of breaking down what I think he's doing in each scene than anything else, so I hope it's interesting to... you? reader? Since it's a bit long-winded and a lot of speculation and interpretation on my part for his wild ass behavior.

(Also, I haven't played far enough with an ascended Astarion to properly break down the differences between both--he'll have his own playthrough for sure but since I haven't gone far enough in that path, all of this is with no-ritual Astarion in mind) (I also don't have screenshots for everything but hopefully that's alright. just trust me bro.)

Fair warning, I didn't proof-read this & I moved paragraphs around so if it sounds incoherent that's a feature not a bug. Now. Let's get into the EVIDENCE.

1. but did he mean the kisses????

So, before the hug scene, the game leaves us a bit of room to interpret the progression of the relationship. I kind of wish we had one extra scene to sort of solidify his growing feelings in the in-between period of his "I'm just sleeping with you to secure my safety here," era (pre-confession as we'll call it) and his "oh shit I actually kind of care about you," era (post-confession, pre-ritual), but I understand why it wasn't included. Game mechanics & cost aside, the space between these two periods is left entirely up to player interpretation, & has lots of room for HC up to each individual player & Tav.

To address the easiest examples the asker gave, the repeatable kiss dialogues are all ones I'm going to mark under "sincere." Mostly because those are all post-confession, and after Astarion has acknowledged to himself (& the player) that he doesn't want to do anything sexual, but presumably kissing is fine (given that he's enthusiastic about the kisses & will shut down sex/intimacy acts otherwise.)

There's not really a logic to him being slinky here, and I didn't interpret any of his post-kiss repeated dialogues as insincere, much more so playful or coy or cheeky. The voice acting is subtle here, but I found it to be much more playful than his annoying little, for lack of a better word, purring "hello, beautiful" etc etc in act 1 / early act 2. Also, all these dialogues stay the same after the ritual happens, and your romance has been solidified in the grave scene, where he wholly says:

"I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don't want to lose that."

^ Not a lie. So I think we can mark off those particular dialogue as sincere.

In act 2, there aren't really a lot of places for Astarion to actually get into his manipulative tendencies. He overtly needs your aid with Yurgir (Repeat after me: thank you for helping me. It was very kind.) so he doesn't really manipulate you at... all...? in my opinion? Act 2 shows you his most sincere moment yet in the confession/hug scene. He is not lying. He is more honest in those moments than he has been in the entire game, and it shows in his wording, his body language. He's uncertain of himself, maybe. He doesn't know what to make of the situation yet. He says as much to Tav when you ask him "What are we?" and he says:

"I don't know. But isn't it nice? Not to know. You're not a victim. Not a target. Not just one night it's better to forget. But then... whatever in the world could you be?"

He has no reason to say that without sincerity. He could say you're his specialest babygirl if he wanted to keep up the lie. And other than helping him with Raphael, there's really not a moment where Astarion has an opportunity to manipulate you....

EXCEPT.

EXCEPT. For this moment in particular. which is one of my FAVORITE Astarion ones because it is gloriously bitchy.

2. what if we took over a cult, babe.

Context first: I played a paladin of devotion, rough around the edges but fairly good-aligned Tav. She was a bit of a jerk but she saved people for free, and I adhered to her dialogue roleplay hard, choosing the "destroy the Absolute" dialogues at every turn. I don't have a save for this scene sadly otherwise I'd replay it and compare/contrast answers like a pepe silvia meme, so I'm only able to break this scene down from that particular lens.

Secondary context: This scene is important because it highlights Astarion's manipulative routine while still with a Tav he's very fond of (exceptional approval in this scene) and the way he lays it out is necessary to understand the moments later where he tries to manipulate Tav again, since it has components of the same themes, ideas, and tendencies that go on.

So, Astarion will hit you with this hot take early-ish on.

"You know. I feel a connection between us. Like we're two souls walking the same path (...)" Astarion establishes emotional connection, and a foundation of similarity/commonality/shareed interest. This is pretty standard fare for him. He does the same thing a lot early in act one, where he's almost CONSTANTLY asking you to "trust him," (when you really should not.)

"You might be a little naive in the ways of the world, but I see promise in you. Ambition." - He kind of snidely reveals what he actually thinks--you're a bit naive, you "have a big heart,"--he's hoping that his emotional cloying and little comment and connection with Tav will be enough to sway them over to what he wants to do, and they'll give him what he wants because We're So Similar, See?

"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing do when we get to Moonrise Towers?" - He wields his language carefully. The right thing to do. That's a language he thinks Tav speaks. An interest in doing the Right Thing; so, he adjusts accordingly. He wants to do the right thing too, you see, and the right thing conveniently lines up with what he actually wants, which is real power. Astarion confesses he's not a details guy, yada yada, then--

"If we can take that control from them, imagine the power we'd wield." <- He lets slip what he's actually interested in. Astarion generally can't keep a charade up for too long. His real thoughts always come through, and he reveals his hand in conversations often, but usually in offhanded ways and, well--he's never made a secret really of where his actual interests lie. His attempts at currying your favor and persuading you (and you can really feel the persuasion here) are prettyyyyy overt, but still, he's trying anyways.

"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil." <- He brings the conversation back around to what's more neutral than Absolute Power -- keeping ourselves safe. He uses the We and Us language a lot when he wants to convince other people of anything, really. "We're all such good, trusting friends!" he'll say, lying through his FUCKING teeth. His manipulations here are like.... pretty clear, but he still gets an A for effort for trying to align himself with Tav & Tav's perceived goals & see if he can wriggle in his own in the process, put "become god-cult-leader" up as a Reasonable and Rational thing to Want to achieve.

The actual question here: does he care about Tav at this point? Up for interpretation, but I'm going to say yes with... the caveat that I don't think he's fully acknowledged it to himself, and I don't think it's love here. It is high approval though. I do think he cares about Tav, I do think he's including Tav in longer-term goals, he's depending on Tav at this point as an ally he can count on, and he's starting to get chipped away at.

I don't even really think it's a lie that he on some level would like to see Tav safe, and takes their wellbeing into account. He's been with them long enough to worry over their safety to some extent, and to at least partially lump it in with his own (in my opinion). Is that love? I don't think so. "We can finally be safe," is a reoccurring theme in the other scene I'm going to break down in just a second. And it's interesting for a lot of reasons.

And furthermore: you can care about someone and still be manipulative toward them. That's a core thing going on here, I think, with Astarion.

3. Yeah He's Manipulative (Trauma Edition).

"Is Astarion Manipulating Me In Act 3? " YES. A little bit. And here's why it's INTERESTING.

So, the confession scene in act two has already happened. Astarion has confessed some of his big mushy feelings to you. He likes you. You've slammed the "can I kiss you?" dialogue 100 times already because you're really super normal about the vampire twink. He doesn't know what to make of his caring about Tav yet. See: his "what are we??" dialogue.

MOVING ON. Astarion is also, a manipulative little shit, and he will NOT change his ways just because he likes you a lot and giggles when you give him a little kissy kiss.

Astarion is deeply, deeply traumatized, and his trauma has in his own words makes him act out the same cycles of behavior that he did prior to escaping Cazador. In its most obvious format, one of those behaviors was seducing Tav because that was the kind of behavior he knew, and it was the only thing he could think of to secure his own safety. By act 2, he's somewhat aware of the cycle, but--

Traumatic behaviors, like anything relating to surviving abuse & getting out of it, come and go in waves. You'll likely not find a survivor of abuse who doesn't revert back to coping mechanisms at times, especially in moments or episodes of heightened stress, or being put back into the old environment again. ->

Astarion going back to Baldur's Gate--and specifically with killing cazador in mind--is him going back to that same place where traumatic events occurred... almost constantly. Thus, he goes back to his old behaviors. Not to the exact same level, but it is there.

Safety. THIS is a word that comes back a lot with Astarion, it is one of his most reoccurring (if not the most) themes. He wants to feel safe. He associates power with safety, because the safest person in the world--as in, literally safe, not "safe for other people"--in his mind, is Cazador, who is powerful enough to repel any threats to himself & what he owns, has, possesses, and keeps.

Astarion is still, at his core, no matter what, self-serving. He will do what's best for himself first and foremost in almost every circumstance you put him in. Or at least, he will want to--if Tav or someone else stands in his way, and he sticks it out, it'll be begrudgingly. That's a fundamental aspect of his character & to try and do away with it makes no sense.

And in case it got lost, I'll reiterate that I do think Astarion's actual feelings for Tav at this stage are entirely genuine, & deeply felt. It shows, and it's obvious. He's just got several layers of behavior going on in the process.

"But I thought astarion liked me??? why would he consciously choose to manipulate me??" The thing is, once again, you can like someone and still try to manipulate them, pull on their heartstrings, or quite frankly guilt trip them into helping you kill like, a lot of fucking people so you can become godlord supreme emperor of mortals and vampire kind.

Let's get into the second scene I want to break down. Keeping all of what we've established above about how Astarion goes about establishing connection & togetherness & the idea of shared safety to sway Tav over to his side.

So let's set up one thing for sure. It's pretty obvious, everyone gets this scene, but let's set it up anyways.

"What's a handful of the wretch's servants? IF they're anything like me when I was enslaved, they'll all be begging for death anyways." <- apathy toward others, generally motivated by self-interest, lack of empathy for others' plights, a callousness that is fairly unrepetant. He's fairly sure this is what he wants, and--

"After two hundred years of pure shit, I think I deserve something better." Again, Astarion tells us exactly what he's thinking. And what he believes. And he's not wrong! He does deserve something better than what he had before. Or, at least, he doesn't deserve the level of cruelty he endured at Cazador's hands. However.

And then he follows it up with, "I know you do [care]. It matters to me too. I want to be able to protect you too." <- finally, we come back around to the reoccurring theme he'll use to sway Tav over to his side. He sees the soft point of Tav in the conversation--they care about him--and he needles that in; they care about him, he cares about them, they should help him complete the ritual for it, it's what's best for everyone. Except for the 7000 spawn, but. You know.

NEXT IMPORTANT SCENE. let's take a look at the scene that follows after you confront his fellow vampire spawn in the tavern.

I'm keeping the full screencap so I can keep his shifty little look in here. It's not the best format, I wish I'd kept videos, the body language & voice acting adds a lot to this moment, but. Neil you're so good at balancing Astarion's careful shiftiness, his gleeful/vindictive revelry at being so close to his end goal & confronting his siblings without flinching, his coy little pleading, and his near desperate watchfulness. He needs Tav. He cares about Tav, yes, but he needs Tav to help him.

Astarion is, again, fairly callous about the deaths of his brethren. You have to remind him time & again to maybe empathize with their suffering & similarity to him. But each time he reverts back to, "their lives" serving a greater purpose.

Astarion then follows that up with "But we're a team. If I become all powerful, then we become all-powerful." <- I think he genuinely does think of himself & Tav as a team, and as a good one at that. More than anything, Tav is the first person Astarion, in his own words, feels he truly cares for. They've killed a few gods chosens together, Tav has given him respect, patience, care. He feels fairly assured of their presence & kindness at this point. And assurance tends to breed............. let's call it, taking for granted?

I believe he's trying to again emotionally bid for their help & loyalty as much as gauge if they're still with him, as he does by going -> "We are a team after all. You're still with me?" Once again, the easiest way to secure aid is through emotional connections; someone's attraction to you, or better yet, their care for your well-being, are easy strings to pull on to try and entice someone to do what you want them to do. It's not necessarily maliciously intended, but it is a kind of manipulation.

"But Astarion just genuinely wants to know you're on his side!" Yes. And he also really wants you to help him with the ritual. ANY arguments against the idea that he's benignly trying to manipulate Tav's feelings, I'm just gonna put up this screencap right here, one of the last times he bids for Tav's affection & loyalty in this, in this particular conversation:

Look at his stupid pouty face and his "You want what's best for me, surely?" and oh god the voice acting. We're smacked right in the face with Act 1 Astarion's slinky, whiny little "truuuuust me it'll just be a taste I promise <3333" voice. That PURE "I'm trying so hard to connive my way into your good will because I REALLY want this." voice.

His strength is your strength. And he will pleading face emoji his way through getting you over to his side if he needs to. It's honestly so funny, how the writing plays out, because SEVERAL times you can choose to fully fall for it, "yes of course I want whats best for you / want you to be safe / feel good" and every time, he's like "I know I know <333 and I want YOU to feel safe too <3333" and I don't even think that's a lie! I don't think it's a LIE, I just think it's the same pattern of manipulative behavior he's exhibited time and again even when he cares for you.

Astarion is still Astarion. He is very willing to kill, lie, and cheat his way through just about anything to protect himself, & all of that makes PERFECT sense for him. And if you're not on board with his plans, of course he will use every tool at his disposal to get you on board. It is, after all, what's best for both you and him. His power is your power.

4. "I'm doing this for you too." He said, lying. Or genuinely believing that but lying to himself too and executing it in the weirdest way imaginable.

So, this is probably my favorite interaction in the entire Astarion romance. Love the grave scene. Love the horny evil vampire turning. But this moment in particular is fucking brilliant, because it illustrates the dilemma here perfectly.

Astarion outright tells us exactly why he is the way he is, and why he cares for Tav while being able to be so cruel and callous about others. "No one ever looked out for me [...] you're the only one." Tav is exceptional--as in, THE EXCEPTION to the rule--because they cared for him in a way no one else ever has. He has ZERO reason to even bother lifting a finger for anyone else besides himself, because in his mind, none of them ever bothered to help him, why should he bother with them. But TAV. Tav he can make promises too.

On some level, I do kind of believe him when he says things like "I'm doing this for you too." -- As in, I believe that he believes that he's taken Tav into account here as well. I do think he genuinely thinks they'll be an even more magnificent duo of glorious bastards together once he's God Vampire Emperor Of Eternity. And on some level, he's probably right. They do take over the world together in some endings, so. Good for them.

However, do I think he's primarily motivated by anything but himself? No. Tav also benefitting from his mega vampire powers is just a bonus in a laundry list of reasons why Astarion wants to ascend at this point in the game. Why Astarion is willing to pull out every guilt-trippy, pleading face to get Tav to help him, if they show even a hint of reluctance. More than anything: Astarion is a survivor, and a survivor of severe abuse that pretty quickly explain why he is the way he is. Does that excuse what he does in the aftermath of that abuse, when it comes to harming other people? Not really. But it explains it pretty clearly.

Because Astarion is back where he came from, he's immediately thrust back into the cycles of behavior that both traumatized him & were what he had to do. The pattern of behavior, coping mechanisms, rooted in traumatic cycles, that he has done time and time and time again that has successfully gotten him, not what he wants, but what he needs to survive. Does his manipulation of Tav here mean he doesn't care? Not at all. It's just that he needs this work. He needs his allies to help him make it work, and he's willing to pull out every stop to see Cazador dead and himself with enough power to never feel so helpless or vulnerable again.

Astarion can love you & still be himself. He will never stop being a bit bitchy, a bit conniving, extremely focused on self-preservation at all costs. He might not seek out active maliciousness, but even in act 3 after the ritual, he still approves of generally being a sneaky bastard, taking short cuts, taking easy ways out. And none of this is necessarily... a problem? It isn't ""moral"", sure, but it's not really a problem. In some endings, he can pursue ""better"" paths, but his general deceivery and typical behavior aren't going away. Feature, not a bug. How each Tav feels about his ... fairly obvious deep romance manipulations is up to each player though, and that is what's interesting for each playthrough.

There are five more essays to write in here. There's the Astarion after the ritual, who agrees that fine, killing 7000 people is wrong. And there's the Astarion after the ascension, who is now fully entrenched in the idea that Power Is Everything, and all that means for him afterward, and his visceral, intense, obsessive controlling dynamic with Tav where they descend into Chaotic Vampire Evil Marriage. And there's Astarion and Tav together finally, honestly, openly, with the heart-wrenching intimacy of the grave scene. And this is almost 4000 words so I'm shutting the fuck up here.

So. I will end this by saying I'm peeling him like an onion rn I'm obsessed with him. He's gods horrible princess and he's never going to die.

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 meta #the fact that I'm sitting here like 'okay but I'm not even taking into account...'#Astarion.. you vainglorious hilarious evil twink. Why are you so complicated. I'm obsessed with you.#if this flops we don't talk about it okay....#also I'm not sure but if you need a tone disclaimer my jokes/insults/teasing is all complimentary. unfortunately #I love him deeply. and want to put him in a bag of rice and shake him really hard.#bg3 spoilers

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womenloverlmao · 1 month

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Sweater Weather (Spencer Reid X Reader Smut)

Based on the song Sweater Weather by the Neighborhood

Summary: Y/N comes into their living area wearing one of Spencer's sweaters and it has more of an effect on him than intended.

Warnings: Sub! Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem! Reader. needy Spencer, munch Spencer, pathetic reid??? he fucking cums in his pants guys he's a fucking horny teenager basically. oral (f! receiving), uhhh... Reid will literally drop to his knees and go down on reader whenfuckingever, mommy kink, finger sucking?? wtf?? its based off a line in the song I'm sorry. humiliation, degradation, praise, thigh humping, slight nipple play, breeding kink, would be more breeding but reader is on birth control... yeah.

You didn’t think much of it when you put on one of Spencer’s sweaters. You were wearing your bra and some jean shorts–that rose a little too much–under it, and… well, you looked downright delectable to him. He was already implausably down bad for you, but now you looked like this and it was driving him impossibly insane.

He was reading when you came into the room wearing that. He was practically hidden by whatever book he was reading at the moment, one that you couldn’t translate to save your life. You started to journal after sitting down somewhere near him, completely ignorant of his eyes that were, in effect, undressing you. Safe to say, his mind was far from the Russian literature.

The sweater fits you fine, but it was meant to have something under it. It revealed a little more of your cleavage than you intended, but it was just Spencer. You knew he wasn’t a weirdo, so you were comfortable wearing things like that in front of him. That isn’t to say that when you finally looked up from your journal and saw how he was looking at you, you were uncomfortable and wanted to change. In fact, you wanted to use this to your benefit.

“Spence?”

His eyes shot up from where they had been. “Hmm? Sorry, I must have zoned out.”

“Zoned out, right,” you rolled your eyes.

“Did you know we spend about 47% of our waking lives zoned out?” He tried to distract the both of you from the fact that you had just caught him staring at your tits.

“We both know that you weren’t just zoned out.”

“Zoning out is, by definition, the act of becoming unaware of one's surroundings. Which is, technically, what just happened to me.”

“I can’t win anything with you,” you scoffed a little, but you weren’t upset. You did have one more thing to use. “Also, you might want to go take care of your friend.”

Leave it to Spencer to find a girl who would bully him. He turned red, set his book down, and started to walk away. That was when you spoke again, “Unless you want me to help you.”

He knew you better than anyone else. He knew there would be something to it, even if you hadn’t said anything yet. He walked over to you nonetheless; he sat next to you as you looked over him. “Did I do this to you?” You asked. He nodded. “Use your words, baby.”

“You did, ma’am,” he looked down.

“Only fair that I fix it then, right?” He didn’t respond to that statement. “Kiss me.”

He did what you asked, cupping your face with one hand as his other slid under your–well, his–sweater. He began to push you backward, gently. The hand that was on your face moved to support him beside your head. He started to trail kisses down your neck; your thigh managed to end up between his legs. His hand started to make its way up to your breasts, rubbing your nipple through the fabric of your bra.

“Did I tell you to do that?” You asked.

He looked up at you with his pupils blown out, fuck, those puppy eyes were gonna be the death of you. “N- no, ma’am, I’m sorry, but- please, please mommy…”

You looked as if you were contemplating it, but he knew you had made up your mind about it already. He just didn’t know what it was that your mind was set on. “Sit up,” You told him. He whimpered but listened. “Good boy…”

You put your hand on his face gently, your thumb running over his bottom lip. If anyone else was doing this to him, his mind would be going off and telling him to stop, but with you… he couldn’t bring himself to care. He took it into his mouth. You were surprised, but not reluctant. You watched as he sucked on it carefully.

“You’re killing me, baby…” you told him as you removed your thumb from his lips. “Why don’t we put that mouth of yours to good use, huh?”

Desperate as he was for any friction, he could never say no to eating you out. Every time he went down on you, it was as if he was starved. With no hesitation, he got down on his knees in front of you. Those beautiful brown eyes of his were almost innocent; they always looked up at you as if you were just below God Himself.

“My beautiful boy,” you smiled, running your fingers through his curls. “Straining so hard against your pants, bet it hurts, huh? But you’re still so eager to please…”

“Just wanna make you feel good, mommy,” he says.

“Then make me feel good,” you told him.

That was the confirmation he needed; he practically dragged you into your bedroom before he began to unbutton and unzip those little high-waisted shorts. He tugged them down your legs as you leaned against the wall. His hands pushed your legs apart gently. “You’re so pretty…” he said, before attaching his lips to your clit. You let out a string of curses as he moved downwards. He licked a stripe over it, before pushing his tongue into your heat. His nose pressed against that little button near the crest every time he did anything. You tangled your fingers in his hair.

His fingers dug into your ass as they were practically the only things holding you up. He tugged on one of your legs gently, and you understood what he meant. You put it over his shoulder, and… well, fuck, that new position made the feelings of his lips on yours (I'm so funny) even more pleasurable. Whenever he was between your legs, it was as if he forgot what even the idea of oxygen was. Nothing mattered besides bringing you delight.

Spencer knew your body well. If he wanted to keep you on the edge for an hour, he could, or if he wanted to make you cum in a minute he could do that. He may have been the submissive between the two of you, but he knew what he was doing. He possibly knew your body better than you. He did something slightly different, and not even a minute into that you fell over the edge. He didn't let a drop of your pleasure go to waste, leaving you slightly overstimulated before he pulled away. The look of your slick on his face was almost enough for you to cum again.

You slowly removed your leg from his shoulder and leaned against the wall for a minute, before you went to lay down on the bed. Part of you wanted to be nice and reward him for pleasing you so well, but the other part of you wanted to do something a little silly…

He joined you, climbing on top of you. He was fully clothed, and all you were in was his sweater. You glanced down again. “How bad do you need me?”

“So bad, please, mommy,” he whimpered.

“Aww,” you cooed. You decided to slot your thigh between his again. “There, you can use that.”

He whined. “But-” “Either that or nothing.”

He huffed. “Can I at least touch you now?”

“Fine, you can touch.”

You didn't need to tell him twice before his hands were under the, now communal, sweater. His hands practically massaged your tits as he started to rut his hips against your thigh. It was humiliating, yes, but he really would do anything to please you. He hid his head in the crook of your neck, leaving kisses and curses in his trail. He moved one of his hands to keep himself steady as he rocked faster, his other tweaked with your nipple. Pinching, twisting, letting go, rubbing, then restarting. It hurt, but it felt so good.

His whimpers became more prominent as he got closer and closer to his climax. “Please, mommy…” “Please what?”

“Want to- need to cum in you so badly, please…”

“You can do it by doing this.”

“It’s not the same, please… Needa put a baby in you, need it so badly…” he whimpered.

“You want to put a baby in me?”

“Mhm, mhm,” he said, moving faster against your thigh. His fingers and hips became more frantic. “You’d look so pretty, and- and everyone would know you’re mine and I’m yours-”

“Wanna make me yours, hmm?”

“O- oh fuck,” he said as he came into his pants. He would have felt less vulnerable if he had been fully naked in comparison to this, but fuck, it made you need him even more. He finally stopped his movements, and you couldn't help but smile.

“Did I make you that desperate? Did you cum into your pants? Couldn’t hold it in?”

He turned red. “‘M sorry, you just- you felt so good.”

“Such a fucking whore,” you commented and took note of how his dick twitched in his pants. “Already excited? Gosh, you’re like a fucking teenager.”

“‘M sorry, ma’am…” he said as he slid off you.

You sat up to try and take the sweater off, but he grabbed your wrists. “Keep it on, please, mommy…”

That’s when it clicked. “Is that what all this is about, Spencer?” He looked down and nodded. “Holy shit. This is all it takes to turn your brain off? I just wear one of your sweaters, and suddenly you’re a mindless slut? Tell me, Spencer, why do you like it so much?”

“It- It says that you’re mine. That you- that you aren’t embarrassed about it either. And you- you look really pretty. You always look pretty, but even more so like this. And it- I can see you wearing that, and- and p- pregnant with my babies.”

“You wanna get me pregnant, huh?”

He nodded. “So- so badly…”

“Come on, then,” you told him. You were on birth control, he knew that, but it was just for dirty talk. This was all just for a scene, right?

He rushed off the bed and struggled to get his belt off because his hands were shaking slightly. He took off his soiled boxers and pants before getting his shirt and sweater off. He climbed back on top of you for the third time that night, stretching you out with his fingers for a couple of seconds before he finally positioned himself at your entrance. He slid in, inch by inch… no matter how many times he had been inside of you before, you would never be able to get used to that. You could feel him for days after.

It’s always the tall, skinny, scrawny boys.

“You’re- you’re so tight, ngh-” No matter how dominant sounding any of his words may seem, he always said them in a submissive manner. “You’re- so pretty around me, and- and I can see myself in you.”

He took your hand with one of his and pressed it down on your lower stomach. Sure enough, there was a slight bulge. You couldn’t help but clench around him. He let out a whimper. He knew he wouldn’t last long; he intertwined your fingers on one side, before using the other to circle your clit as he moved his hips in the way he knew you liked. He had to make you cum first, he would feel horrible if he finished before you. Always eager to please.

“You’re so perfect,” he kissed your neck. “‘M so lucky to have you, so unbelievably lucky- Gonna- gonna fuck my babies into you, gonna let everyone- ev- everyone know you’re mine.”

“Fuck,” you moaned. You could feel that all-too-familiar feeling bubbling in your lower stomach. “Right there, baby, I’m so close-”

His breath hitched slightly as he continued what he was doing, except for his movements on your clit went slightly harder. About thirty more seconds of that, and you were letting that knot slip. You clenched around him as your mouth opened into a silent scream. Once it was over, his fingers stopped moving on your clit but his hips never ceased their almost bruising pace.

He started going faster, desperately chasing his own climax. You decided to help him, despite the overstimulation. “Gonna get me pregnant, yeah? Gonna knock me up, let everyone know I’m all yours?”

He nodded, you knew he was close but something else was needed even if neither of you knew what it was.

“Gonna make you a real mommy,” he whimpered.

“Mhm, gonna make me a mommy. But… I’m already yours Spence. All yours. This just tells everyone else.” “Mine, you’re- you’re mine, mhm-”

“And you’re mine, all mine, yeah?

That’s what it took. Hot ropes coated your walls as his hips stuttered until he was empty. After a minute, you asked if he wanted to get cleaned up.

“You’re supposed to keep it in for around twenty minutes to an hour,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by your neck.

“I’m still on birth control,” you reminded.

“I know, but just for the… I dunno, idea.”

“Spencer.” “Fine,” he pulled out gently, both of you letting out a whimper. He watched as a combination of his and your cum spilled out of your hole. You knew he was already half-hard again, but you were not in the mood to go again. “You do need to urinate th-”

“Leave it to Dr. Spencer Reid to dirty talk his girlfriend into letting him cum into her and then ruin the moment entirely,” you laughed.

“I’m serious! I don’t want you to get a UTI.”

“Fine, I’ll go take a piss.”

“One more thing?”

“What is it?”

He didn’t say anything, only collected what was dripping out of you, before gently pushing it back in. You couldn’t deny that that did turn you on, but you knew that if you didn’t stop now you wouldn’t. You went to the bathroom and then took a shower together.

After all that, you were finally lying down. The more you recounted your previous activities, the more you liked what he said. Maybe it was time to forgo the birth control…

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #sweater weather

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golden-afternoon · 1 month

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Yeah I was working on another actual fic but uhhh the 'Nari brainrot took over so uhhh here take me going insane over him and rambling about what comes to my mind. Kay? Kay.

Warnings - nsfw, mating cycle talk from a person who only has google by her side, absolutely not proofread having gone straight from brain to paper, and just know there is a solid chance I'll have more to say about this in the future.

Tighnari, by his very nature, is a very compartmentalized person. His own problems stay within himself to be dealt with later when he is done and everyone else's needs are already attended to. Always concerned with helping others and keeping things in order, even to the point of staying up into the early hours of the morning, less concerned with himself than those around him. If he’s ever struggling with anything at all, he will do absolutely everything in his power to keep anyone from knowing about it, much less something as personal as this.

In the early months of the year, especially as Lantern Rite nears, Tighnari becomes withdrawn. Quieter, more distant. The Forest Watchers have been talking for forever back and forth swapping theories and rumors in not so hushed tones.

“I heard Master Tighnari lost a family member around this time of year.”

“Really? I heard he just reeeeally hates any kind of festivities especially Lantern Rite because it's so noisy, even when not in Liyue.”

“I dunno, maybe he's just sensitive to the cold?”

Unlike the usual case where he was quick to nip such chatter in the bud and tell off the Rangers for gossiping, he remains entirely silent on the issue, otherwise carrying on as usual. Setting up excursions, documenting his findings, helping and guiding wherever he was needed…

Until he just can't stand it anymore. With hardly a word, save perhaps to Collei to ask her to care for things in his absence, he retreats, hiding himself away in his hut, barricading himself in completely so no nosy Rangers have any reason to loiter around.

He hates it.

He understands it's natural and it's going to happen and blah blah blah, but it was such a nuisance to his life he would give anything to not have to put up with it. The worst of it usually lasts a week or two before he can at least carry some semblance of normalcy and feel willing and able to return to work, but while he's in it, it drives him insane.

Some years it's so bad that he can't even focus on anything other than the absolutely filthy thoughts that plague his mind, his hands shaking so hard he can't even hold a pen long enough to attempt any sort of work. Even like this he just doesn't feel right not being productive especially when he's always running around here and there the rest of the year, why should this be any different?

Head slamming into his desk with a groan, a flush curling up his cheeks and neck. Eventually he has to crack, begrudgingly caring for the needs that grow and grow and grow and become nigh insatiable during his rut.

It starts out almost clinical, looking to just take care of a symptom of an illness almost. Face flushed, lips curled into a deep frown, he sits at his desk, fisting his cock with precision, hoping to get it over with as fast as possible by hitting everything just right.

But no. After dealing with this for years you think he would have known by now that just once isn't enough, yet he still hopes year after year. It only gets worse. Over and over and over again until he's just sore and it hurts. Until he can't keep jerking it lest he make his own skin turn raw. By this point he usually finds himself in his bed, ears flat and face buried into some blankets to muffle the pathetic whimpers that left his lips as he kept grinding his hips into the pillows over and over and over and over, chasing even the slightest modicum of relief.

And most of the time, as annoying as it is, it was completely fine for him to just be stuck imagining some faceless, nameless mate beneath him as he struggled to sate these urges. However, if Tighnari has a bit of a crush… Well, he'd be in for a rude awakening if he hadn't already acknowledged his feelings for you.

I could see poor Tighnari getting almost ill as he realized the cute moans he was imagining sounded a little too much like your voice. Everything freezes for a moment, his stomach lurching both from the realization and the sudden loss of friction when he faltered. He tries so hard to brush it aside, chastising himself for pulling you into his filthy mind right then. But it doesn't stop. Your face, your voice, your skin. Everything. Everything stays in his mind and he cannot stop it. He feels such overwhelming shame about it, but… he does eventually give in and just let whatever fantasies take root, especially since it seems to ease the feelings when he does.

But when he sees you after the worst of it is over and he leaves his hut, guilt grips around his heart and memories of those fantasies rush into his head, leaving him turning on his heel to avoid you at all costs, honestly risking you thinking he hates you with how intensely he's ignoring you.

It's even worse because Tighnari considers hiding in his hut again for even longer as usually he was fine when the worst of it passed, he could resume his duties, but with you around, he could feel his hands shaking, the intense urge to find you wherever you were and pin you down immediately was so strong it scared him a little. Sometimes it caught him off guard too, like he would catch your scent on the breeze and while in his rut, he would genuinely get so horny so fast he's gotten lightheaded, having to catch himself on whatever was nearby so he didn't go crashing down.

If he hated his rut before, the shame of all this made him absolutely loathe it.

Maybe one day you can find a way to make it a liiiiittle more bearable for him ♡

#sunny brainrots #a little bit of spice #sunny's beloveds #genshin posting #tighnari smut #tighnari x reader #help im so normal about him-#everyone talks about this for him but MAN #i wanna talk about it even if its been said before!!!!#tighnari

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surftrips · 9 months

Text

nervous

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: what happens when jj maybank develops a crush on the class valedictorian?

a/n: i haven’t written for jj in soo long so here’s this opposites attract oneshot for y’all. set before sarah and john b get together, it’s the pogue’s senior year of high school. lmk if you want more of this dynamic!

"You have a crush on Y/N? She's like the complete opposite of you..." Pope was saying to his best friend JJ.

"Dude, I know. But maybe that's why I like her so much." Maybank replied.

"What do you guys even have in common?"

"Uhhh... well. She likes to read and I- I can read. I just choose not to."

"We're off to a great start here," Pope said sarcastically, "What else?"

JJ thought for a second. "Oh! Her favorite color is green! I like green."

"Whose favorite color is green?" Kiara asked as she and John B. joined the rest of the Pogues at the lunch table.

"This girl JJ has a crush on," Pope explained.

"Ooooh, JJ has a crush? Who is it?" John B. nudged JJ's arm.

"I'm not telling you guys. You're gonna make fun of me," JJ refused.

"Oh, come on! Pope knows!" Kiara reasoned.

"Yeah, no keeping secrets from each other," John B. reminded them.

JJ sighed, "Fine. But only if y'all promise not to laugh or anything."

"Yeah, whatever, just tell us," Kie was dying to know.

"It's Y/N," JJ announced.

Silence. Then, all at once...

"Wait a minute..." from Kie.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" from John B.

and "That's what I'm saying!" from Pope.

"Guys, come on. You said you would be chill about it," JJ was starting to regret sharing his secret.

"Sorry, it's just... isn't she... like smart and responsible and stuff?" John B was saying.

"Literally... the opposite of you, JJ. No offense," Kiara added.

"None taken. But yeah, she is all those things, John B. That's why I like her. I think she would be good for me. Plus she's pretty," JJ replied.

"And you think you can pull her?" John B. asked.

"Come on, who can resist my charm?" JJ said, smiling.

—

For the past week, JJ had been working on a plan to get Y/N's attention. Which was hard considering the two ran in different circles and shared no classes.

So it must have been fate when JJ ran into her in the main office the following Monday. He was no stranger to the receptionist sitting at the desk, used to running late or being called into the principal's office for skipping class. It was for this reason that he almost missed the girl he had been dreaming about all week who happened to rush in right after him.

JJ wondered why a perfect straight-A student like her would be here, but the sounds of her trying to catch her breath and her frantic state answered his question. Little miss perfect was late, just like him.

He couldn't help but smile to himself, finally, they had something in common. Something he could work with.

But before he could turn around to spark up a conversation, the receptionist called him forward. "JJ, how many times has it been this month?"

"Uhhh.. I lost track after the fifth time," JJ shrugged.

"You know I'm only asking because I want to see you graduate, the disciplinary committee is not going to be as nice," she said.

"I know, I know miss. I'll be better next month."

"How about starting tomorrow? You're all set."

JJ turned around, trying to come up with an excuse to hang around the office, but he knew that he was already pushing his limits.

On his way out, he grinned at Y/N. “Fancy seeing you here,” and left before she could respond.

"Dude, you said what to her?" Pope asked, incredulous. It seemed like every conversation JJ had with his best friend these days elicited disbelief.

"Come on! That line is a classic, works every time."

"Name one time," Pope challenged him.

"Uhh that one time with Stacy, or Sasha, I forget what her name was."

"Yeah, great example."

"What's wrong with that line anyway?"

"It's less what's wrong with the line itself and more the situation in which you said it. You probably embarrassed her," Pope said matter-of-factly, chewing on his apple.

"What? How's that embarrassing? I'm clearly hitting on her."

"Because, she was late and probably already stressed out. Y/N is never late, and you just pointed out the obvious to her."

"Shit. I didn't think about it like that," JJ admitted.

"Think about what like what?" Kiara asked, coming over to their unspoken designated lunch room table with John B. JJ was starting to get deja vu.

"JJ saw Y/N this morning," Pope started to explain. "They were both late and checking in at the main office and on the way out he said, 'Fancy seeing you here.'"

Both Kiara and John B. winced. "Why would you say that man?" the latter asked.

JJ groaned. "I wasn't thinking okay! I didn't mean to embarrass or upset her or anything. You think she's mad at me?"

"I mean, you guys barely know each other. There's a chance she might have forgotten already," Kiara tried to reason.

"Somehow that's even worse," JJ said.

"It's alright, buddy. Better luck next time," JB tried to comfort him.

"If there even is a next time," JJ grumbled.

With his luck, there was a next time. This time JJ was in Y/N's territory.

When his teacher asked for a volunteer to run to Ms. Scheer's classroom, JJ's hand immediately shot up. He didn't care what the errand was, all that mattered was that Y/N would be in that room. He knew as much from watching her intently, but from a safe distance in the hallways.

He seemed to catch her attention the second he walked in. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Once again, he was wishing that the circumstances were more ideal. His usual charm seem to dissipate in the presence of teachers.

After handing Ms. Scheer the construction paper she needed, JJ turned to look at Y/N, settling for a wave this time.

To his relief, she softly smiled back at him. He rushed out of the classroom and quickly pulled out his phone to text the groupchat.

JJ himself could not believe it, that someone as beautiful, smart, and amazing as Y/N noticed him. That line has yet to fail me, he thought to himself.

Since it was the end of senior year, there was word of quite a few parties happening that weekend. However, JJ only cared about one. And that was whatever one Y/N decided to grace her presence with.

In order to find out this information, JJ employed Kie to ask around in her circle of kook friends if anyone happened to know where his recent infatuation would be.

It just so happened that John B. was also crushing on a certain kook during this time as well, Sarah Cameron. The two boys hoped that their respective crushes would be at the same place Friday night and waited anxiously by their phones the entire day for a text from Kie.

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Still, JJ found himself looking in the mirror for longer than usual getting ready for Sarah's party. Even just the chance of seeing Y/N there was enough for him to go. Plus, John B needed a wing man because he knew Pope and Kie would just spend the whole time there together.

After taking one last look at his outfit: gray muscle tee, shorts, and his signature baseball cap, he headed out the front door and into Kiara's Jeep.

As they pulled up to the Tanny Hill mansion, JJ started to get a little nervous. Or excited. He wasn't sure which, the nerves and butterflies inside his stomach seemed to be dancing the tango.

Of course he had been to kook parties before, the kooks vs pogues thing had mostly died down by the time they got to high school, but he couldn't help but feel out of place amongst the drunk rich kids of Kildare.

"Are you coming or not?" Kiara asked, already out of her car.

She quickly rushed to meet up with Sarah and some other girls, Pope tagging along as JJ and John B. looked around in search of some liquid courage.

Kie had agreed to put in a good word for John B. after he practically begged her, so all he had to do was sit back and wait. However, JJ would have to be on edge for the next few hours, unsure if Y/N was going to show up or not.

"Dude, you should still have fun, regardless if she shows or not. It's our senior year!" Pope said to him later in the night, seeming more buzzed than usual. That's when JJ realized how sober he was, he was so anxious about Y/N's presence or lack of, that he was only on his second bottle of beer.

He pulled out his phone to check the time, not expecting to see 5 texts from Kiara.

Realizing that the last text was from one minute ago, he left the group of boys he was standing with and ran inside the mansion, making a beeline toward the kitchen.

He slowed down once he was close enough to hear Y/N's voice talking to Kie.

It's now or never, he thought. Entering the kitchen, his eyes immediately caught Y/N's and he swore he saw them light up. Noticing Y/N’s change in expression, Kiara turned around.

"Ah! Just the guy I was looking for!" she said.

"Uh, hey. What's up?" JJ said, trying his best to seem nonchalant.

"Y/N, this is JJ, the guy I was just telling you about."

"Oh, hey! I think I've seen you around," Y/N said, smiling at JJ. His heart melted. Was this real life?

"Kiara, Y/N and I go way back. Remember we were both late that one day?" JJ hoped that he wasn't bringing up a sensitive topic, Pope's words echoing in his mind.

"Oh my god, yeah! That was you!" Y/N responded.

He let out a sigh of relief, "Yeah, I hope I didn't catch you off guard or anything."

"Oh, no worries, it wasn't the first time I've been late."

"Good, I don't know why I thought I made you upset or something," JJ said, scratching his head.

"Why would you think that?"

"My friends, Pope and John B. They said that what I said was stupid and I could've embarrassed you."

"You told your friends about our 30-second interaction?" JJ could see her lips pulling into a smirk and his heart started to race. It was at this point that Kiara slowly began to back up, giving him a thumbs up and a grin when she was out of Y/N's eyesight.

"Well, I only tell them about the pretty girls."

"And how many have you told them about lately?" JJ knew what game she was playing and gladly played along.

"Just the one," he grinned.

"Good, I told my friends about you too," she admitted.

"Y-you did?"

"Yeah, I mean I didn't think much of the day in the office honestly, but after you came into Ms. Scheer's and waved at me, I felt like there was something more going on."

"Well, you would be right."

"I usually am," she said, shrugging.

"What else did you tell your friends?"

"Hmmmm..." she pretended to think, tapping your index finger to her chin. "I told them that there was this super cute guy stalking me and asking around about what party I was going to."

The boy could feel his face growing hot, unsure if it was from her calling him cute or the fact that she knew he was asking about her.

"Aww, no reason to be embarrassed. Guys ask about me all the time," she said.

JJ balked, unsure how to respond to Y/N's candor. She was entirely different from how he imagined her, even better somehow.

"I'm kidding," she laughed. "The truth is most guys are too intimidated by me to even try anymore."

"What? Really?" Sure, Y/N could be perceived as intimidating because of all her accomplishments and positions, but for JJ, that just made her more attractive. He wasn't sure how any single guy on the island could refrain from being pulled in by Y/N's magnetic pull.

"Yeah," she took another sip out of her red solo cup. "But it's whatever, half of the guys on this island are assholes."

"Cheers to that?" he lifted up his half-drunken beer to her cup.

"Haha, cheers to that Maybank," she smiled, downing the rest of her drink. "Wanna get out of here?"

"I was wondering when you were going to say that," he grinned, following her to the backyard.

She led him past the pool where people were throwing each other in, careful to avoid getting splashed, to the edge of the premises where a rock wall surrounded the lawn.

Y/N easily climbed up, taking a seat at the top, JJ following suit.

"I've never been up here before," he said.

"It's kinda like my hiding spot, consider yourself lucky I’m showing it to you."

"Oh, trust me, I do."

"Stop," she gently pushed JJ away. "You cannot possibly like me that much." Though she said it in a joking manner, he could tell that a part of her meant it.

"Oh yeah? Try me," JJ said, desperate to prove himself.

"Okay, name 5 things you like about me. Non-physical things."

"Easy. You're smart. You're ambitious. I like it when you get competitive like at Pep Rally and football games, and I like your sense of humor. Also, your smile."

"Hey! I said non-physical things."

"Yeah, but you don't just smile for anyone. That's what I like about you. Every time you smile, it feels special. Like you meant it for that one person only."

Y/N was blushing now, "You're kidding me."

"Nope, I'm being 100% serious right now. Look, Y/N, in case you haven't noticed, I really, really like you, and even though I just named five things about you, I want to get to know you more." JJ reached out to grab Y/N's hands.

"JJ, you're shaking."

"Shit. Sorry, I just get a little bit nervous around you. I'm usually not like this." Y/N had him acting like he had never done this before, and though he had been with plenty of girls, he had never felt this strongly about them before.

"It's okay," she smiled. JJ thought he would never get sick of seeing that. "I like you too."

"Really?"

"No, I just smile at everyone like this," she laughed.

"So what do you say? You and me on a proper date?"

"Hmmm, where would you take me?"

"Anywhere you want, as long as it's not on school grounds or a fundraiser."

"JJ!" she playfully swatted at him, unable to control her grinning from ear to ear. In the process, JJ was finally able to grasp on her hand and pulled her closer to him.

"Still need verbal confirmation, pretty girl. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal," she whispered, close enough to JJ that only he could hear.

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