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bruisedboys · 1 year

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dead wrong — steve harrington x reader

summary: steve harrington is down horrendous for you, his best friend. his love is not as unrequited as he thinks.

contains: best friends to lovers, mutual pining (but mostly steve pining), steve’s pov, fluff galore, idiots in love, reader is good with the kids, reader is a skater like max, reader hurts her wrist and steve is a worried lovesick idiot. cw! descriptions of wounds/blood, mentions of hospital, reader wears steve’s clothes. she/her pronouns used.

a/n: first long fic yay!! I am extremely proud of this so pls love it 🤍

fem!reader 5.3k words

gif by @barneswayne

Steve Harrington is totally, most definitely, not in love with you. Just friends, he thinks, best friends. Best friends who hold hands and sit far too close together.

Speaking of, you push further into Steve’s side, your scent washing over him. Your hand squeezes Steve’s, and he thinks, never mind. Maybe he is in love with you. So in love with you it fucking hurts.

A chorus of shouts erupts around him. You and Steve are watching Eddie, Robin and the kids play beer bong, only without the beer. It’s soda. Dustin starts doing a stupid victory dance while half of his peers laugh and the others cringe. Steve cringes. You laugh. All high and lilting and adorable. Steve has to remind himself to breathe.

He brings your joint hands to rest on his knee. Your rings push into his skin, almost like harsh reminders that he can’t hold you like he wants to. He frowns.

“Steve?” Your voice brings Steve out of his thoughts like it always does. You give his hand a shake. “You okay?”

Steve looks up and prays you can’t see the hopeless devotion in his eyes. You’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, with your messy hair and your eyes lined with glitter. Rosy cheeks, glossy pink lips that he stares a beat too long at. He’s known you for years, and yet he’s never gonna get used to how gorgeous you are. He swallows, forces his eyes up to yours.

“I’m okay,” he says, though he’s really not. He never is, because you never won’t look like that. “Are you?”

There’s another explosion of noise from the soda-pong players, but you don’t seem to notice. You frown like you don’t believe him. He’s being too obvious, he knows.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you sure, Steve?” You stretch your free hand across your torso to touch his face. Steve heats like an oven under your hand as you press your palm to his forehead. “You’re not feeling sick, are you? You feel sort of hot.”

Steve grabs your wrist, harder than he means to. He loosens his grip guiltily when you give him an alarmed look.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, lowering your hand gently. He can feel your pulse, only just, underneath his fingers. It’s damn sure slower than his. “I— uh, no. I’m not feeling unwell. It is pretty hot in here though.”

A total lie. The only reason he’s burning up is you.

Your frown deepens, a push of your bottom lip that makes Steve want to kiss you. It’s such an overwhelming feeling that he has to blink multiple times to make it go away.

“Oh,” you say. You look around the room and then back at Steve. “Do you want to go outside?”

Steve has a bit of a dilemma. If he says yes, he’ll be alone with you. He can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. If he says no, he’ll have to stay in this stuffy room with yelling teenagers and ping pong balls flying at him every five seconds. He decides on the first option.

“Sure,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. Then, to make you laugh, “Smells like boy in here anyway.”

You giggle. Steve feels like copying Dustin’s lame victory dance.

“You’re a boy, Stevie,” you say teasingly.

He wrinkles his nose at you. “No, I know, but it’s like … adolescent boy.”

You laugh loud, your mouth pulled up in a staggering smile. “Oh, okay,” you say, as if anything he just said made any sense.

Steve is starstruck for a second before you’re pulling him up from his seat, your hand in his a familiar, heart-aching weight.

Steve finds himself sitting side by side with you on the hood of his car. He can’t exactly remember how he got here — on the way, all he could think about was your hand in his and the fact that your thumb kept brushing over his knuckles in very distinct lines. Whether you’d meant to or not, he doesn’t know. He hopes you did.

“Any better?” You ask quietly, stretching your pinky across the small gap between your hands to tap his.

Steve feels something like an electric shock where your skin touches his. It baffles him, how such a tiny touch can cause such a big reaction throughout his body. He stares at your hand when he answers.

“Much,” he says honestly. He looks up at you. “You didn’t have to come with me, you know. You can go back in if you want.”

Secretly he hopes you’ll stay here with him forever. But that would be selfish, and if Steve is anything when he’s with you, it’s not selfish.

“Eurgh, no.” You pull a disgusted sort of face that makes Steve grin. “I could barely stand it when you were there. Without you, I think I’d die from the smell alone.”

Steve laughs. Really laughs. The words without you, I think I’d die, float around his brain like fish in a fish tank. When he’s done laughing he catches your smile, all pretty and wide, and his heart does one of those funny backflips that he’s never gonna get used to.

Steve watches as you brace your hands on the edge of the car and push yourself up the hood, pulling your shoes up to rest on the metal. Your skirt is short enough that Steve can see half of your thighs, more when you shift yourself like that. He stares for two seconds too long and then feels so guilty he almost apologises.

Instead, he says, “Aren’t you cold?” He points at your skirt but doesn’t look.

You shrug. “No, not really.”

With a sigh you let yourself fall back against the hood of the car. Your skirt rises even more and a half inch more of your skin is exposed — Steve feels like the universe is out to get him. His only escape is to fall back next to you, his right shoulder brushing your left one. You smile when he does, head rolling to the side to look at him. Face to face now, Steve can feel every small breath coming from your parted lips.

“See any stars?” He blurts, because your face is much too close and he’s scared if you look at him like that any longer, he’ll kiss you stupid.

You look up at the dark, empty sky and wrinkle your nose. “No.”

“Wait, look, there’s one.” Steve lifts his arm to point at what he thinks is a star.

You squint in its direction. “That’s a plane.”

“What? No it’s— oh.” He trails off when he realises the ‘star’ is moving. It disappears behind a cloud a second later.

You laugh, breathless and pretty, and drop your head onto Steve’s shoulder. Your perfume fills the air around Steve and he has to stop himself from leaning closer. You bring a hand up to fiddle with your necklace, a cheap, plastic ‘S’ charm that sits directly on your sternum. The fake diamonds are falling off, half of them gone already, but you’ve refused to take it off after all these years. Steve has one of your initial, too. You got them from a dollar store when you were twelve and pinky promised to be best friends forever.

You slip your necklace safely beneath your top and then stifle a yawn behind your hand.

Steve gives your elbow a nudge. “Tired?”

You shrug one shoulder and then droop further into Steve’s side. Every point of contact between you burns.

“You’re tired,” Steve says matter-of-factly.

You make a noise that’s probably meant to be a sound of protest but comes out more like a tired moan. Steve chuckles lightly, reaches over and rubs your arm.

“Alright, sweet girl. Let’s go home.”

‘Home’ really means Steve’s house, because you’ve left your car there and because you’re over so much it’s become your second home. By the time Steve is pulling up the driveway, you’re so dead beat he doesn’t even consider letting you drive yourself home. You practically hang off his waist as he walks you both inside.

“M’tired,” you mumble as you pass the living room.

Steve has to bite back a laugh. “Uh-huh, I can tell.”

You look up at him and squint like you know he’s laughing at you. Then you say, “Can I sleep in your bed?”

Steve’s heart skips. Sure, you’ve slept in his bed before, but every time you have Steve lay awake for at least half the night. He’s not above admitting that he’s watched you sleep more than once. He’s seconds away from telling you to take the guest bedroom when you pout dramatically.

“Please? You’re so warm.” You push into his side, your arm tightening around his waist like you don’t ever want to let go.

Steve hates himself for nodding, but he can’t help it. “Yeah, okay.”

He drags you up the stairs and into his room. Your makeup and stray jewellery is strewn across his dresser — you’d gotten ready at Steve’s before the party. If you could even call it that, Steve thinks. He plants you on his bed and you fall back immediately, eyes shut tight as your hair splays across the sheets.

“You’re like a zombie,” Steve says amusedly, his gaze all fond and mushy as he looks down at you. “From like, Day of the Dead or something.”

You pull a face, faux offended but your big grin gives you away. “Ew. I’m not that ugly, am I?”

Steve hums long and high like he’s thinking about it. This makes you gasp and throw a hand to your chest like he’s wounded you. Before Steve can get half a laugh out a pillow is hitting him straight across the face.

“Hey!” He exclaims, glaring at you. You’re still lying down, eyes screwed tight like you’re pretending you didn’t just brutally attack Steve. He laughs because you’re fucking adorable. “Zombies don’t throw pillows, Y/N.”

Your words are plagued by a yawn as you say, “This one does.”

Steve sighs at your antics, picks up your murder weapon (his pillow) and replaces it on the bed.

“Oh no,” you groan suddenly, like you’ve remembered something awful, hands flying to your face in despair. “My makeup, Stevie. M’too tired to take it off.”

Your words stick to each other like taffy in your tired state. Steve remembers the last time he let you sleep in your makeup. He didn’t hear the end of it for days. He’d rather avoid your wrath this time round.

Steve sighs, knowing full well he’s about to put his foot in it. “Well, will you let me do it?”

You open one eye blearily and look at him. “Would you?”

Steve shrugs, though the thought of being that close to you makes him feel nauseous. Luckily, you’ve closed both eyes again so he can blush all he wants. Plus, he’d do anything for you. Even endure the overwhelming urge to kiss you breathless.

“Sure thing, babe. I’ll get the stuff.”

Steve ends up sitting on his bed with you across from him, crossed legs pressing up against his. You’re sitting so close you’re almost in his lap. He ignores this for the sake of his dignity.

You’ve got your eyes shut and your hair up in a clip. A lock of hair has tumbled out of its knot and Steve pushes it away from your face, fingers hooking behind your ear and lingering. He keeps his hand on your jaw as he raises his other hand, a wet cloth ready to clean your sparkly makeup off.

“You sure about this?” He asks hesitantly. He’s dead terrified he’ll do something wrong, like get glitter in your eye.

You smile softly, your eyes staying firmly shut. “Yes, Steve, it’s fine.” Your tone is half reassuring and half exasperated.

Steve bites the bullet and goes right in, pressing the wet cloth to your cheekbones first. You’ve got blush and glitter there, sprinkled on your cheeks like fairy dust. He smooths the cloth along your skin and it comes away sparkly and pink.

“Okay?” He asks, pausing worriedly.

You nod slowly, your head starting to droop in his hand. “Yeah, Steve.”

Steve grins fondly at your face, screwed up in exhaustion. He tightens his grip on your jaw to keep your head steady, thumb hooked under your chin. Carefully, he begins to dab at your eyelids, also painted with silvery glittery eyeshadow.

Your face dewy and makeup-free, Steve thinks you’ve never looked prettier. So pretty it drives him mad. He stares, really stares, for far too long but he’s worried if he opens his mouth, breaks the silence, he’ll never get to see you like this again. Your hair all messy pretty, your eyes shut and eyelashes kissing, your pink lips turned in a half smile.

He’s not surprised when your soft voice drifts into his thoughts.

“You done?” You open your eyes, eyelids heavy and head heavier.

Steve snaps out of it. He lets go of your face quickly, slides off the bed even quicker.

“All done,” he says, almost tripping over his own feet.

You smile, seemingly oblivious to his clumsiness. Or maybe, it’s just happened so often that you’re not surprised. Either way, your smile is sickeningly sweet. Steve is torn between the desire to kiss you or run as far away as possible from you.

Your voice matches your honey-smile when you say, “Thank you, Stevie.”

You reach out to touch his forearm, your hand a heavy weight on his skin as you wrap your fingers around his arm and squeeze.

He grins lopsidedly, and he’s sure he looks like a lovesick idiot but he can’t find it in himself to care. “You’re welcome.”

You drop your hand and Steve’s arm suddenly feels cold as ice. He wants to touch you again but knows he shouldn’t. He strides to his bedroom door and pauses to turn and look at you.

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” he says. Your eyelids are drooping again. He laughs fondly. “Get in bed while I’m gone, zombie-girl.”

Your giggle follows him all the way to the kitchen.

When Steve gets back, a glass of water in each hand, you’re still as a statue on your self-appointed side of the bed. You’ve swapped your outfit for a grey t-shirt that you totally stole from him but deny every time he asks about it, and the shortest shorts known to mankind.

He switches off the light and shuts the door with his heel. Pointedly avoiding looking at your bare legs, he rounds the bed and sets the water down, then bends over you.

“Y/N?” He whispers.

You hum softly, though Steve can’t tell if it’s a hum of acknowledgement or just a sound you’ve made in your sleep. He leans closer, listening to your breathing. You’re awake, only just.

He brushes his hand over your upper arm, touch as light as a feather. He thinks he feels goosebumps on your skin but doesn’t have time to wonder why. You’re lifting your chin slightly, lips parted.

“Goodnight, Stevie,” you whisper, so quiet he barely hears you. Steve’s heart swells. “Thanks for … everything.”

A few moments later you fall silent and your breathing grows steady, and Steve wonders how the hell you always fall asleep so fast.

He rubs your arm, kisses your forehead because he knows you won’t remember this part. His lips buzz as he pulls away. “Goodnight, sweet thing.”

You’re outside Family Video. Steve emerges from the back room and spots you so fast it’s like he’s got a third eye. He’s both shocked and pleased — he hadn’t expected to see you until after his shift.

You’ve got the kids with you. You and Max are zooming around the carpark on your skateboards while Dustin and Lucas are poised on the hood of your car, poring over comics.

He watches you skate with Max. Like some lame rom-com cliche, your hair is blowing in the wind and Steve swears you’ve moving in slow motion. You’re laughing and joking with Max and Steve stares and stares. Stares until Robin sidles up next to him.

“What’re you— oh.” Steve can hear the smirk in her voice even though he refuses to look at her. “What’re they doing here?”

Steve shrugs and makes an ‘I don’t know’ sound, moving to the counter to put down the box of videos he’s carrying. Robin follows.

“You’re not gonna go say hi to Y/N?” Robin asks slyly. Steve can hear in her voice what’s coming. “You’ve been staring long enough.”

Steve blushes furiously despite himself. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Oh, sure.” Robin hoists herself onto the counter, peers into the box of videos and picks one out at random. “Just like you weren’t holding her hand on Tuesday night?”

Steve can’t exactly get himself out of that one. He snatches the video from Robin with an annoyed tsk, slotting it back into the box. Her laugh is devilish.

“You are hopeless, Steven,” she says, whacking Steve over the head as she hops off the counter.

Steve rubs his head and glares at Robin. If looks could kill she’d be dead meat. “That’s not my name.”

Robin gets this look on her face that Steve knows all too well. He wants to pummel her before she’s even said anything.

“Oh, sorry,” she says, all sarcasm. “What is it, then? Stevie?”

Steve’s blood boils. Only you’re allowed to call him that.

“Y’know what, Robin?” He says loudly. He turns on his coworker, seething. She’s totally nonchalant, a stupid smirk on her lips. “Why don’t you just leave me—?”

“Steve!”

A shout of his name from the door. He turns and finds Lucas standing there, looking panicked.

Steve’s brow furrows. Then he notices you and Max are no longer whizzing around the carpark. “What—“

“Y/N fell,” Lucas says, out of breath. “We think she hurt her wrist.”

Steve’s heart drops. “Shit.”

He goes flying out the door and into the parking lot. You’re sitting on the concrete, one knee pulled up to your chest, your skateboard dormant next to you. Max is kneeling over you, and Dustin has graciously abandoned his comics for your sake.

“Y/N!” He damn near shouts. He runs over to you and Max and gets on his knees. He’s probably just ruined his jeans on the concrete — he doesn’t give a single fuck.

“Y/N,” he says frantically, a tentative hand landing on your shoulder. Both your knees are scraped something awful and a nasty gash blooms on the outside of your wrist. Steve’s worry is loud and his heartbeat twice as much. “Y/N, are you okay? What happened? What’s—“

You look up. Your eyes are shining but you’ve got a dopey smile on your lips.

“Steve,” you say breathlessly. You blink and a tear falls from your eye and over the bump of your cheek. “Hi. Good to see you.”

Steve stares at you in horror. How can you be making jokes at a time like this? You laugh wetly and Steve looks at Max, totally alarmed.

“What happened?” He demands.

Max is much calmer than he is. “She went over a bump or something,” she says. She’s rubbing your back and Steve feels a rush of gratitude for the younger girl. “Fell on her left arm. Her wrist might be sprained or broken, but—“

“Broken?” Steve repeats. He’s pretty sure his soul just left his body.

“I said might,” Max says through her teeth.

“Y/N?” Steve slides his arm around your shoulder, carefully avoiding your left wrist, which you're cradling in your uninjured hand. “Y/N, baby, can you get up?”

You make a noise like a scoff but it’s muffled by your sniffly nose. “‘Course I can.”

Steve helps you anyway, Max on your other side keeping a firm hold on your jacket. You hiss as you straighten your legs, knee-wounds sprouting fresh blood. Steve bites down on his lip so hard he almost bleeds himself.

“Are you gonna take her to the hospital?” Max asks. There’s genuine worry in her eyes that Steve barely sees. Dustin, Lucas and Robin appear, looking equally worried.

Steve puts on a brave face. “Think so. What do you think?” He asks Max. “You’re the skateboard expert.”

She grins so quick Steve almost misses it. It disappears when she looks at you in your bloody and bruised state. “Yeah. Just in case.”

Steve walks you over to your car, half dragging you. Not that you need him to, he just can’t bear for you to hurt any more than you already are. He deposits you in the passenger seat, ducks his head in to pull your seatbelt across your torso. He’s seconds from ducking back out when you stop him, your uninjured hand on his chest, right over his racing heart.

“It hurts,” you say, quiet enough that only Steve can hear. Your eyes are welling up again. Steve feels like crying himself.

“I know,” he says, nodding vigorously like it will make a difference. “I know, sweet girl. It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be okay.”

At this point he’s talking to himself as well as you. You nod in an exhausted sort of way and Steve presses a kiss to your cheek. Slow and soft and as close to your lips as he’s ever kissed. He has to take a few seconds to compose himself before straightening up and turning to the others.

“I gotta take her,” he says, sending an apologetic grimace in Robin’s direction.

Robin nods once and surprisingly, doesn’t say a word. She looks about as sympathetic as Steve has ever seen her. He turns to the kids.

“Help Robin,” he says. He’s trying desperately to make his voice sound normal but falling short of the mark. Everyone notices but nobody comments. “Don’t mess up the store.”

He gives a grateful smile to Max and then rounds the car, hopping in and starting the engine.

You’re half asleep on Steve’s couch, your head in his lap. You’re wearing his yellow sweater — the one he bought only because you’d said he’d look good in yellow. You’ve just woken up from a post-hospital nap and Steve’s hand is in your hair, brushing slow strokes over the side of your head.

He’s feeling a lot of things. Relieved, for starters. The doctor had said it was only a sprain, they’d bandaged up your wrist and you’d left the hospital in far better conditions. Steve was in far better conditions, too.

Steve looks down at you, at your bandaged wrist and the huge bandaids on your knees and thinks, fuck. He thinks his heart is about to claw its way out of his chest. He doesn’t think he can take this love thing any longer.

You stir and take a long breath, turning your head in Steve’s lap to look up at him. Your eyes are tired but you’re smiling.

“You okay?” Steve asks softly. He doesn’t want to break the silence. It feels good, to sit in silence and comfort with you. He runs his fingers through your hair again.

You nod. “Mhm. I’m good.”

“Hurting?”

You shift in his lap. “No, not right now.”

You fall silent and Steve doesn’t know what to say. He wants to tell you how worried he was about you, but you could probably tell. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell he was nauseous-level worried. Then he thinks about telling you he loves you. It’s a stupid reason, really, but it was all because a nurse had asked if he was your boyfriend. He’d wished he could say yes.

“Steve?”

Steve hums and meets your eyes. You move to sit up and Steve helps you, knowing you won’t let him stop you. A firm hand between your shoulder blades, his palm sliding down your back as you straighten yourself. You shift so you’re facing him, your legs crossed beneath you and your injured wrist resting in your lap. Steve is careful to avoid your wounded knees.

“What is it, babe?” Steve asks quietly. He brings his hand up to caress your cheek, dragging his thumb over a spot where your tears had smudged your mascara earlier.

You melt into his hand, eyes falling shut as a long, deep sigh falls from your lips. You raise your good hand to cover his, holding it to your face. Your hand burns stars onto the back of his.

“Is it your wrist?” Steve asks. You’re acting strange. He puts it down to your injured state. “Your knees? Do you want more ice? New band-aids?”

He’s being a total worrywart, he knows, but who can blame him?

You shake your head, eyes open but cast down. “No.”

“Just feeling bad?” He asks through a frown. In a strange parallel to a couple of days ago, he lifts his free hand to press his palm to your forehead. You feel warm but not hot.

“It’s …” you start, then trail off. Both yours and Steve’s hands fall to your lap.

Steve’s concern spikes. You’ve never been one to hide anything from him. “Yeah?”

“Um, it’s … it’s silly but—“ You take a deep breath and let your eyes raise to Steve’s. You get a look on your face Steve doesn’t quite understand, but it makes his heart leap to his throat anyway. “You know today, when that nurse asked us if you were my boyfriend?”

Steve laughs embarrassedly, too loud and too sudden. So you’d been thinking about that, too. He pulls his hand away from your lap and rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, that was kinda weird, wasn’t it?” He says, though it wasn’t really. Almost every new person he meets thinks you’re dating him. “I was—”

“I wanted to say yes, Stevie.”

Steve stops talking abruptly, his mouth slamming shut. He hadn’t really known what he was about to say, anyway. He searches for words but all he comes up with is a garbled, “What?”

You laugh, all soft and slow and distorted by fatigue. You raise your hand to rub your neck, a mirror of Steve only a moment ago.

“I wanted to say yes,” you repeat, like it’s obvious. Even the second time, Steve doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. His chest feels like it’s on fire, worse when you say, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

For once in his life, Steve has nothing to say. He gazes at you like you’re some sort of angel on earth. Maybe he’s dreaming. Maybe he’s in some cruel dream and he’s about to wake up with his chest aching.

“I …” Steve‘s voice catches on the words. His throat burns so he mustn’t be dreaming. He tries again. “Y-You … you do?”

He’s not even embarrassed by the stuttering. Just when he didn’t think he could be any more in love with you, you giggle. He was dead wrong. His heart grows about three sizes too big for his chest.

“Yeah, Steve,” you say, fondness smothering your fake exasperation. “Do you … do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

What Steve wants is to kiss you. He wants to kiss you til you can’t breathe and then some more after that. Silently, he takes your injured wrist in his hand and gently shifts it so it’s out of the way, resting on the couch cushions. Then he grabs your face, fingers splayed over your jaw and neck. He can feel your pulse. It’s almost as quick as his. He leans so close he can hear every breath you’re taking.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. “That okay?”

You laugh a giddy, breathless laugh, surprised at his suddenness. “Please do.”

He slams his eyes shut, darts forward to kiss you and fucking misses. Your noses bump. A surprised giggle bubbles from you and Steve goes red.

“Wait, I’m sorry—“ He tries again, tilting your head to one side and angling his head to the other. This time it works perfectly, and your giggling is swallowed up by Steve’s mouth, lips fitting together like they were made for each other.

You sigh and go all melty and Steve’s heart skyrockets. It feels like everything in the world is falling into place. It’s years of longing, eternities of lingering touches and offhand compliments and longing glances all rolled into one life changing kiss. Your good hand has jumped to Steve’s chest, first bunched in the material of his t-shirt and then spreading over it, palm atop his wild heart. He thinks he might die on the spot. Or like, catch on fire or something.

Steve is losing breath but he won’t stop just yet. He drops his hands to your shoulders and pulls away a hair’s breadth. Then he dives back in for one, two, three kisses that you respond to with all the eagerness in the world. Your kisses are so lovely they make him light-headed.

When Steve pulls away (for oxygen, nothing less) you chase his lips with yours. He laughs, all fondness. He’s dizzy with love.

“Woah, hold your horses, cowboy,” he says through a woozy laugh. He’s finding it hard to speak. He barely hears himself. For all he knows, he’s talking in an alien language.

“Sorry,” you whisper, not sounding very sorry at all. “So … was that a yes?”

Steve has to laugh. He can’t help it. “Are you kidding? Yes, Y/N. That was a yes. I—“

He’s rudely interrupted by someone banging on the door. He thinks he knows who it is. Only one person he knows knocks that hard.

He sighs morosely but he can’t keep the grin off his face for very long. “I’ll get it.”

He heaves himself off the couch and makes for the front door. You stop him before he gets very far, a hand in his bicep.

“Wait, Steve.”

Steve turns, puzzled. “Yeah?”

You’re lifting your chin up, lips parted. Steve knows exactly what you want.

His grin grows impossibly wider as he bends at the waist to kiss you once, chaste and slow and just as perfect as the kisses shared moments ago. When he pulls away you’re smiling so big he’s worried you’ll get stuck like that forever. He wouldn’t mind.

Another round of banging from the door. Steve sighs, squeezes your good shoulder once and then marches to the front door, just about ready to kick the intruder off his front porch. He opens the door and finds his suspicions were correct. It’s Dustin.

He’s holding a handful of flowers that look suspiciously similar to the ones that grow in Steve’s mom’s garden.

“Those for me?” Steve asks. He shoots his arm out to stop Dustin from barging in, hand gripping the door frame.

Dustin pulls a face. “Ew. No, they’re for Y/N.” He steps aside and more kids appear, plus Robin and Eddie. Eddie’s van has been parked haphazardly in Steve’s driveway. “Can we come in or are you gonna stand there and guard the door like that all night?”

“She’s tired.”

“But we bought chocolates.”

“Well—“

“Dustin?” You call from the living room. Oh, great. Now Steve’s gonna have to let them in. “S’that you?”

Dustin beams and gives Steve an expectant look. Steve drops his arm with a defeated sigh and Dustin goes marching in like he owns the place. Max, Lucas and even Mike follow. Mike, who never shows up to anything. Though Steve shouldn’t be surprised. You’re Mike’s favourite, out of the older ones.

Eddie comes next, then Robin, who stops to give Steve a grimace.

“Sorry,” she says wryly. “They really wanted to see her.”

Steve shrugs good-naturedly. He’s on cloud nine and much too happy to care all that much. He follows Robin into the living room and finds everyone crowded around you, Max on your side and Dustin getting down on one knee to present you the probably-stolen flowers like you’re the Queen of England. You look the same as Steve feels — kiss bitten and with your head in another world. But you’re pleased by the company, he can tell.

Dustin moves to give you one of his bone-crushing hugs and Steve goes all panic mode.

“Please be careful with her!” He says urgently, his panic obvious under the usual demanding tone he takes with the kids.

But you’re laughing under Dustin’s hug, and Steve can’t stay mad when you look like that. You meet his eyes over a mop of curly hair and your gaze goes all mushy and sweet. Steve’s legs feel like jelly. If he keeled over dead right now, he wouldn’t be surprised.

He’s sure someone will see but he doesn’t really care. Grinning from ear to ear, he mouths, “Love you.”

He’s said it before, of course he has, you’re his best friend in the whole entire world. This time though, it’s all the more different. It’s better. You flush, oblivious to the noisy chatter around you.

“Love you too,” you mouth back.

Steve can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated!! reblog this and I’ll kiss you on the mouth mwah

#★ mal writes!#(mal pushes herself past her limit)#ღ stevie #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader fluff #stevesmixtape!

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mypoisonedvine · 8 months

Note

dark dilf delinquent season cillian lusting after the new neighbors daughter; who not so coincidentally has a penchant for undressing with her curtains open 🫣 & sneaking in guys who kinda (definitely) maybe resemble cillian? from her club nights 😭

he’s dark & like kinda pathetic but we love him anyway

i feel like this is too specific but I can’t get the thought out of my head 🥲

it is very specific but I'm not mad, and I love writing a pervert <3 but a dilf AND a pervert?! yes please!! obviously I love this concept cause I went a liiiiitle overboard with it, oops...

𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 | neighbor!reader x dilf!cillian

length: 3.3k

warnings: m and f masturbation, voyeurism, slightly dark but not very much, unspecified age gap, infidelity

When it first started, he really was just trying to read. It wasn't his fault that the book was boring, or that your curtains were open, or that he caught a glance of you in your window.

It was innocent then, too— he liked watching you do normal things, like put on jewelry or laugh on the phone with a friend. It made him smile... he wasn't sure why, but it just made him feel a little better after a long day, seeing you up there, reminiscing on his younger days as he got a distant view of yours...

But it had been months since it started, and it was far from innocent now. He'd become an expert at compartmentalizing the shame; he'd become addicted to the cycle, to the watching and the waiting and the sick anticipation— not to mention the fear that someday, you'd notice him watching. The fear, and yet, the hope.

"Fuck," he panted under his breath as he wanked himself— not too fast yet, but certainly much faster than the slow and teasing strokes he liked to start off with. You were taking off your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding your arms in that crazy origami way girls do that he'd never totally understood; he bit his lip as his eyes dragged over your back, trying to imagine how it would feel to run his fingers up your spine until you arched it just right—

He heard the kids yell downstairs and he stopped for a second, heart pounding with nervousness as he feared they might come up and knock at the door. He used to only do this when they were gone... but he couldn't pass up an opportunity like this, a perfect view of you stripping in the window.

The noises stopped and his movements started again, fisting his cock with a stifled groan as you reached behind your back and undid the clasp; even having seen your tits probably a dozen times by now, his mouth was slack and dry in anticipation of you turning around and letting him see them again.

You teased him for a while longer, messing with your hair and stretching your arms up until he found himself mumbling between panting breaths: c'mon, baby, show me— lemme see, sweetheart, fuck, please...

Sort of like willing a stoplight to turn green, it's obviously not possible but it will work at some point: you turned and faced the window, your eyes shut with a sigh as you started to open your jeans. He had to grip his cock's leaking head tight just then, too overwhelmed with the view of your breasts— he was afraid to come too soon.

He'd never had to hold himself back like this before, never delayed his gratification— because, normally, it's totally antithetical to the point of masturbation. He only ever jerked off for the gratification, and he only ever watched porn to help get there a little faster... but you, you were so much better than porn. The thrill of doing something wrong, the longing of knowing you (if not very well) in real life, the lack of control over you and being, in a sense, at your mercy as you undressed as slow as you wanted... it was all just terribly erotic. And he refused to let himself come until you let him see a little more.

You slid your jeans down your legs and he actually bit his lip, just to muffle his moan. "Yes," he whispered to himself, cock pulsing in his grip as he watched you step out of them, turning around to lay them over your bed— and giving him the perfect view of your ass in those cute cotton panties as you did it. "Fuck," he grunted, twisting his hand over his tip and feeling his hips jerk instinctively— he couldn't think of the last time he was so sensitive. "See what you do to me?" he chuckled to himself— he wished you could see it, but then again, he had his lights off in the room for a reason. All you could see was a dark window, and for now, he preferred to keep it that way.

You laid back on your bed, looking relaxed and contented as you ran your hand down over yourself— fuck, is she about to--?

You slipped your hand into your panties, and he tilted his head back with a heavy sigh, only allowing himself a second to shut his eyes as his balls tightened up, threatening to blow it all right then and there. He'd never actually seen you touch yourself before— though he had seen you take a vibrator out of your bedside drawer and, infuriatingly, go to take a shower where you presumably got to use it with complete privacy. The image in his head had been plenty to get off on that night, but seeing you now as your fingers moved under the thin fabric, your lips opening for what he hoped was a quiet little moan? It was almost too much to bear.

You spread your legs a bit, the angle giving him a hint of a view of what you were doing; he sat up in the chair, leaning to the side a bit, desperate for a better look at how you were touching yourself. Were you just rubbing your clit, or were you going to put a finger or two inside? "Baby," he panted to himself, watching your tits get harder as your hand moved, "baby... y-yeah, just like that, fuck..."

The sight of you playing with yourself was just too beautiful; he had to keep reminding himself to shut his mouth so he wouldn’t make too much noise, but then it would just fall right back open again as you arched your back.

“Feels good?” he noticed, raking his gaze over every sign of your pleasure. “Tell me how good it feels…”

He wanted to imagine your voice, then, the way you’d respond to him: feels so good, Cill. You’d never actually called him that, you always called him Mr. Murphy. He tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, but anyways, he couldn’t conjure your voice in his head anyways. He hadn’t spoken to you in weeks, not since you’d babysat for him and his wife… he tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, either.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you took your hand out of your panties and expanded your cheeks with a big sigh; he knit his eyebrows together, watching you roll over and grab your phone off of the nightstand by your bed. His sicker side instantly assumed you were going to find some porn to watch, but your lackadaisical attitude about the whole thing made it seem more like you’d had a sudden mid-masturbation urge to check Instagram. Kids and their phones, he thought to himself, even though you were far from a kid— he was just much, much further from one than you were, is all…

And, this should come as no surprise by now… that turned him on too. He’d come to be weirdly fascinated by his own perversion, finding it just as shameful as he did sexy.

His phone vibrated on the desk and his screen lit up— he wasn't going to answer it at first, nothing was more important than watching you right now... but then it went off again. He looked at it and back at you, seeing you getting up suddenly and walking around the room... surely you hadn't come already? It certainly didn't look like it.

Even though he couldn't imagine why you'd stopped so abruptly, he figured it was a good opportunity to make sure the messages weren't important. He awkwardly got up and grabbed his phone, feeling a bit strange about walking around with his jeans open and his erection poking out. Unlocking his phone to read whatever was sent, he felt a massive sigh leave his chest as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

He never even saved your number, but he recognized the previous conversation you'd had-- just a few texts back and forth about a little backyard gathering your parents were having, and some question about when you needed to come over to watch the kids, but you usually messaged his wife about that kind of stuff. But since he’d committed those brief conversations to memory, it took him only a split-second to know it was you— and, obviously, seeing that you'd just texted him, he thought his heart might just stop right then. He had to blink some blurriness out of his vision to even read them, with how fast the damn thing was beating.

hi mr. murphy.

turn on the lamp on the desk.

He whipped his head around to look back at you, only to find you smiling around a bitten lower lip, staring right into his window. Fuck. Fuck!

He set his phone down, not sure what to do— and quickly locking the screen as he realized you’d probably seen the glow of it. He groaned softly again as he watched you sit down on your bed again, facing directly towards him, those pretty legs spreading nice and slow as your hand moved over your panties again. Fuck.

He felt like he was in a dream or something as he flipped on the lamp— maybe it was an out of body experience. If he was out of his own body, he at least knew whose he wanted to get into: he never took his eyes off you as he slowly walked back to his chair, sitting back down in it and meeting your half-lidded gaze as you tossed your phone away and used your free hand to toy with one of your hard nipples. “Fuck,” he said aloud this time, seeing your eyes trail down to his cock— it was still out, of course, sticking up proudly against the black shirt covering his stomach. Maybe it was proud, but he was a little bit terrified, his face getting hot as he snatched the throw pillow nearby to cover himself with; he saw you laugh, sighing through his nose dreamily as he wished he could hear the sweet sound of it, and then shake your head with a grin.

You stood up then, turning around and bending over as you ever-so-slowly pulled your panties down, making him purr as he got a thorough look at your bare ass. You looked too damn good bent over like that— what he would give to stand behind you, pushing your shoulders down with one hand as he gave that cute arse a good spank with the other—

He saw you looking back at him, a proud smirk on your face; “Dirty girl,” he scolded under his breath, watching you stand up straight and sit on the bed again.

Your legs were pressed tightly together, and when he look up to your eyes, he found them focusing on the pillow in his lap; you met his gaze again, a pink tongue darting gently over your lips. A silent promise: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. With the way it made his heart pound and his palms clammy, he felt like a schoolboy all over again.

He grabbed the pillow and slowly moved it away, your legs opening at the same pace in perfect time with it; he groaned through a tight jaw as he stared at your pussy, one of your hands running down to spread the sticky lips even wider for him. “Fuck,” he moaned, holding onto his cock tightly again as he felt totally helpless to the sight of it, unable to look away. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled, starting to stroke himself as you bit your lip again and rubbed your clit with two fingers— the nails still had that baby pink polish, the one he’d watched you paint on a few nights ago. Why was something as simple as that so sexy?

Your mouth fell open, and your head tilted back; he tried to imagine how you’d sound, your sweet voice a little darker and deeper with pleasure. You rubbed yourself a little faster, a little harder, and he felt his lips curl into a sneer.

“Good girl, like that,” he panted, “play with it for me. Play with that cute little cunt— f-fuck, yes—”

You looked at him again, eyes glued to his cock, and he felt it flex in his grip as if it wanted to wave to you; he saw you smile, an oddly sweet smile for something so dirty, and he watched your fingers slide down to your tiny, seeping opening. He nodded in encouragement, watching your face fall into a shockingly innocent gasp as you slid a finger into yourself.

“Yes, baby,” he moaned, “y-yeah, s’it warm inside, sweetheart? Bet you’re so fucking tight, baby, I know your pussy is so goddamn tight—”

You pumped the single finger in and out, head falling back for a moment, and he squeezed his cock tight again to try to hold back another close call— he’d feel pretty stupid coming so fast with you watching, but he’d been doing this a lot longer than you had… fuck, how long had you known he was watching you?

Your mouth opened wider as you pushed another finger into yourself, and his hips shifted roughly in the chair, his hand moving faster as he growled. “Fuck, it’s not enough, is it?” he hissed. “Two little fingers isn’t enough— you need my cock, fuck, you need my fuckin’ cock— I’d fill you so good, sweetheart, I’d be so fuckin’ deep inside you—”

He was almost bucking up into his own hand now, his whole body suddenly pulsing with energy— it was a good thing you weren’t here now, even if he wanted it more than anything: he would’ve treated you awfully if he could’ve gotten his hands on you, fucking you hard and rough, tossing you around, pinning you down… he needed you so bad, he couldn’t imagine having the patience for anything but one of those nasty, fast, rough, animalistic fucks. He’d fucking ruin you right now, if he could.

You were rough about it, too— roughly pinching and tugging on your tits, roughly fucking yourself on your fingers… you even pulled your hand out and gave your clit a little smack at one point, and he choked on his loudest moan yet as your body jolted.

“Dirty fucking slut,” he growled, “fuck, come for me. Please, baby, I need to come, I need to fuckin’ come—”

You were saying something, obviously he couldn’t hear a damn word of it, but the shape of your lips made him pretty damn sure you were chanting over and over: yes, yes, yes—

“Come, baby,” he begged, knowing he couldn’t hold himself back much longer, “let me see— show me how you come, sweetheart, show me that pretty face when you come on your fucking fingers— soak them, honey, come for me—”

You were shaking all over, legs quivering and tits bouncing with the force of it— you pulled your fingers out and he could fucking see it, see that cute little hole flexing, and obviously he was done for pretty much instantly. He moaned roughly as hot ropes of come painted his shirt, rolled down his shaft and shaking fingers, one drop even finding its way down his balls which was sort of pleasantly ticklish…

You looked so gorgeous coming like that, your hand and pussy all shiny with your arousal, your eyes heavy and your lips swollen from all the biting… he blinked quickly as he tried to catch his breath, letting go of his slowly-softening cock and leaning back into the chair. You smiled at him; funny how, even now, that could make his heart skip. He watched you stand up and wiggle your fingers in a cute little wave at him as you approached the window, and his tired smile fell quickly when you reached for the curtains. “N-no, don’t go,” he pleaded softly, leaning forward as if he could stop you somehow, “please, wait—”

You slid them shut suddenly, and he whined a little as he fell back into the chair, running his (clean) hand over his face as he contemplated what he’d just done. When his phone vibrated again, he jumped up to grab it, but frowned in disappointment when he saw it was from his wife. Be home in a few, please come help with the groceries.

He tried to type a quick reply, only to grimace when he realized how filthy his hand was. He wiped it off on his shirt— but his shirt was filthy, too. Sighing, he set the phone down and took the whole thing off, balling it up to toss into the hamper, leaving him in just his undershirt.

Going straight back to his phone, he opened the conversation with you, praying to see that little grey bubble pop up or something; he started to type a few times, things like will I see you tomorrow? or come over next time the house is empty, but he always felt like an idiot and ended up erasing it. He didn’t get a chance to think of a good thing to send before he heard a car pulling up in the driveway. Shoving the phone in his pocket, he sighed and made his way downstairs, navigating around the pillow fort in the living room to get out the front door.

“Just help me with the bags in the boot, will you?” she asked him, not even looking at him, as she rifled through whatever was in the backseat. He opened it, sighing as he looked at them. Nothing like a bunch of brown bags to bring you back to reality.

His eyes widened when he heard his wife say your name, and he poked his head around the car to see you standing there, wearing a zip-up and leggings. “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy,” you smiled, and he figured he looked like a deer in the headlights— if a deer could hold a paper sack full of pasta and biscuits— as your gaze fell on him. “Hi, Mr. Murphy.”

He opened his mouth to try to respond, but nothing really came out; “Looks like you’re going for a run,” his wife noticed, saving him for the time being as your attention turned to her again.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “figured I could use some exercise.”

He cleared his throat, just a way to try to fight the lump forming in it, but it unintentionally caused both women to look at him again— once again, he found himself uselessly floundering for a response, and only getting out a soft ‘er’ before you said something.

“Aren’t you cold in just a t-shirt, Mr. Murphy?” you asked him, tilting your head.

“It’s fine,” he choked out, “I was feeling kind of hot anyway.”

You smiled at him, then waved goodbye to his wife as you pushed your earbuds in and continued walking down the street— you were acting so innocent that he started to feel like he’d dreamed up the whole thing.

She probably saw him staring, watching you jog down the sidewalk, that ass looking terribly familiar covered by the athletic leggings; but she didn’t say anything, only shutting the car boot to get his attention as he finally carried the paper sacks into the house. "She's sweet, isn't she?" she broke the moment of silence as they walked up the driveway together.

“I-I guess,” he tried to sound as non-committal as possible.

“You don’t think so?” she pressed, apparently noticing his cryptic answer.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe she’s not as sweet as she looks.”

#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

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marvelslittlewhore · 2 months

Text

No Air To Breathe

PAIRING | jj maybank x routledge!asthmatic!fem!reader

SUMMARY | Your asthma is acting up and not just a little bit...

WARNINGS | asthma attack, salbutamol overdose, vomiting, jj being a panicking golden retriever bf, angst with happy ending, my bad description of medical stuff (bare with me I tried my best 😭), not proofread cause I'm lazy 😶‍🌫️

A/N | totally did not write this because it happened to me a few days ago haha...yeah I'm better now tho no worries👌🏻

◃◦---------------●--------------◦▹

The moment you woke up and made your way to the bathroom you knew your day wasn't going to be easy as you already felt out of breathe. You didn't thought much of it, grabbing your inhaler from the cabinet above the sink and taking a puff so you could go on with your day.

Some time later you started to feel how hard it was to do simple tasks, even just grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge without using your inhaler seemed impossible right now.

Laying in bed and listening to music you could still hear the others coming into the Chateau after their surf session. You got up and decided to join them in the living room, sitting down on the couch and taking another puff of your inhaler while JJ plopped beside you, instantly worried when he saw it in your hand.

"You alright, sugar?" He asked placing his hand on on your thigh, squeezing a little.

You nodded with a smile. "I'm fine, just feeling a little wheezy today."

JJ is not really convinced of your reassurance but nodded anyways, draping your legs over his lap and turning his attention back to the others who were bickering on who got the best wave.

Later in the evening you seemed to get even worse, your breathing now a lot shorter and your inhaler not really helping anymore. Slowly you started to worry and not only you did, JJ had been keeping an eye on you and to see how now any movement had you overwhelmed had him fidgeting a lot.

"Babe." He tried getting your attention and you lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him with hooded eyes and your skin paler than usual. "Oh shit, you don't look good at all. I mean, you're still smoking hot but- you know what I mean!"

You chuckled and that was your mistake. You started to have a coughing fit, your breathing even worse now after it subsided.

You let your head fall back against JJ's shoulder, whining in distress and frustration, not understanding what's happening right now. JJ called out for John B, assuming your brother must know what to do, he always does.

A second later John B walked in with a can of beer in his hand. "What's up?"

"I don't know man. She- She can't really move without using this." JJ explained holding your inhaler up.

John B, already in big brother mode, walked over to you both holding your face with both hands, cursing under breath.

"Fuck- how many puffs did you take today kid?" He asked and you shrugged tiredly, not enjoying all those movements at all and your stomach doesn't like it either.

"Bucket..." You mumbled and John B rushed to get you one, just in time when your body wrenched forward to vomit.

"What's happening with her?" JJ asked, trying to keep his cool and holding your hair out of your face while you emptied your stomach.

"She overused her inhaler and now her circulation is fucked up." John B explained, calm as ever and putting the bucket down when you stopped puking. He grabbed his phone next and called for an ambulance, knowing things would get worse if he didn't act fast enough.

John B crouched in front of you, trying to get your attention again which was hard for you as everything seemed to exhaust you, even talking.

"You'll be okay. I called an ambulance, they'll be here soon, yeah?"

You just nodded, closing your eyes to get any type of rest but the boys have to keep you awake.

"Hey, stay with me baby. Just like that. Show me those pretty eyes." JJ smiled at you even when he's practically panicking on the inside and wishing he could just take away your suffering.

Meanwhile Pope, Kie, and Sarah caught up to what happened. All now scattered around the room and anxiously waiting for the ambulance to arrive.

Sure enough the paramedics walked inside the Chateau with Pope explaining what happened and in what state you're in.

JJ was holding you the whole time, comforting you and whispering affirmations in your ear. Just as you expected they have to take you to the hospital to give you proper medication and care there.

As soon as you got an IV drip and a oxygen mask JJ carefully got up with you in his arms, carrying you to the ambulance and gently placed you on the stretcher. He sat down beside you, holding your hand to let you know he's there while the paramedics moved around you.

In the hospital the pogues had to sit in the waiting room, angry that they could only wait for any doctor to tell them if you're fine or not. Even JJ couldn't go with you, only for the ride to the hospital and he almost punched the security guy that held him back from going to see how his girl is doing right now but John B eventually got him to sit down, talking some sense into him.

"Relax, dude. You're not helping her when you get arrested now. I know how this works. They keep her here for a few hours, give her medicine and oxygen, and when her oxygen saturation is better we can take her back home."

JJ nodded, taking his hat off and pulling at some strains of his hair. It kills him not being able to be with you in such a scary moment.

An hour later the doctor came into the waiting room and the pogues instantly sprung up, attacking the poor woman with all kinds of questions.

"Alright, let's calm down first." She told them, looking back at the clipboard in her hand. "So, she's going to be okay. She needs to take these antibiotics for the next ten days. Watch that she's drinking and eating enough because she'll still feel a little weak the next two or three days, so keep an eye on her."

The doctor handed John B the package of antibiotics and told them that they could go and see you now as you're stable again.

You smiled when you saw them rushing inside and to your bed, all of them just so relieved to have your normal self back.

JJ leaned down to give a quick peck to your lips, resting his forehead against yours for a moment.

"You scared the hell outta me..." He said and you reached up caress his cheek with your hand.

"I'm sorry." You pulled back from him. "I just- I thought it wouldn't end like that. I already saw the signs the second I woke up but..." You tried to explain your own stupidity but JJ cut you off.

"It's okay, you don't have to explain anything. You're fine now, that's what matters." He assured you.

"Can we go home now?" You asked and turned your head to your brother.

John B patted your head and nodded. "Sure kid, lemme just get a nurse real quick."

Finally back at the Chateau everyone decided a movie night would be the best to cheer you up and as always they were right, even when you're still not feeling all well you had the sleep that night, knowing your family was with you.

JJ held you the whole night, always on alert when you move just a single muscle, checking if you're alright and getting you everything you asked him for.

You really were blessed with this boy.

◃◦---------------●--------------◦▹

Taglist

For everything:

@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216

For JJ Maybank:

@tracymbcm @spideysimpossiblegirl

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank angst #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x female reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #obx x reader #outer banks x reader #obx imagine #obx angst #outer banks imagine #outer banks angst

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buggachat · 10 months

Text

To be clear, I goddamn hated the finale on first watch. I was withering in my seat. My heart had dropped to my stomach. I had no fucking idea what I was watching in that final scene lmao

and then Adrien said "when Ladybug gave me the rings—" and I was like— wait. LADYBUG? LADYBUG STILL EXISTS?

I THOUGHT THE ENTIRE TIMELINE HAD BEEN REWRITTEN 😭😭😭😭 I THOUGHT LADYBUG AND CHATN OIR DIDNT UFCKING EXIST uNTIL ADRIEN SAID THAT I WAS SO SO SO SCARED

and then I realized, oh wait. This isn't a complete utopian timeline rewrite. This is just a timeskip of a few months and Mme Bustier is just a kickass mayor. In fact, she's only mayor BECAUSE it's still the same timeline. And then I realized, hey, wait, if they didn't rewrite the timeline, then how tf is Emilie casually there with no questions?

And then I realized she was wearing black. And Félix was there. And I remembered Amelie exists.

Basically, I went into the finale chanting to myself "it's okay, it's okay... they probably wont bring Emilie back... they probably won't rewrite the entire timeline permanently.... right? please....", even though I didn't actually expect it to happen, but just because I was terrified that it could. And apparently that fear actually got to me so much that I misinterpreted the episode as being everything I didn't want it to be... when... it actually wasn't that at all

anyway, all of this is to say, everything in the episode happens so fast that it confused and terrified me at first. And when I realized what had happened, my opinion went from "my year is ruined" to "oh. well. okay. kind of disappointing, I guess". And then I kept thinking about it, and the ending, and all that is set up and rewatching the scenes and all the loose ends still in place and.... i realized I loved it?

like, every time I think about this finale, I love it more. every time i rewatch a scene, I get a little obsessed. this episode went from my nightmare to actually really really cool to me, and I'm still kind of reeling from it

Basically, this is why I've been kind of passionately defending the finale— not because I think people who don't like it are """dumb""" or anything, I don't blame people at all for that, and I totally get the confusion. I was confused too. And I know I'm not the only one who went in preparing themselves for the worst, or went in with very specific expectation on what will happen, because this finale has been long awaited for so long. I think everyone was shocked with how it ended. I think most people probably startled at Amelie's face (it's so easy to forget she exists....)

Anyways, I started this post basically as an apology for if I seem too aggressive or defensive about the finale. Because I get it! I get hating it! I get being disappointed or frustrated or confused! Part of why I'm so defensive is because I have all the arguments so ready on the tip of my tongue because I had the very same argument with myself already 😭 So I'm sorry if any of my posts came off as too aggressive and in advance for any future posts that might. I promise promise promise I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for having bad opinions on the finale! I just think this episode is really cool and the fact I related to a lot of the nay-sayers makes it easy to feel so impassioned about it.

But this post is getting off the rails and I'm just gonna let it, because some of my regrets w my participation in fandom is that I find myself chickening out of actually talking about my thoughts on episodes a lot. I get kind of overwhelmed and overthink everything after I've posted it and I'm a shy person. But my inbox is closed and this is the season 5 finale and I want to ramble and ramble so I will allow myself this

Basically, I went in with some very specific expectations for this episode. We all know about the Hawkmoth defeat story. Many of us have read it in fics over and over again, it was teased in Chat Blanc, we all know what we expect, we all know our favorite beats from it.

And what actually happened....... met virtually none of those beats. (For me, at least).

Like, Adrien wasn't there for the final episode. At all. He was completely absent from the confrontation. He never found out his father was Hawkmoth. He got his rings, but he never found out he was a sentimonster. He is living in the dark.

Ladybug confronted Monarch... alone. Which is sad, when so much of the series is dedicated to the partnership of her and Chat Noir. Them against the world....... and Monarch was "defeated" with nary a Chat Noir in sight.

The whole entire "Gabriel is known as a hero" thing. I don't think anybody was expecting that. Absolutely shocking.

The fact Marinette would lie to Adrien like that. The fact she's keeping so much from him. The fact everyone is. SO MANY people in Adrien's life (Marinette, Plagg, Nathalie, Felix, Amelie, Kagami, probably Alya, maybe more I'm not thinking of....) are just... lying to him, now. He is so in the dark. He knows nothing.

But.........

I kind of like that I didn't predict nearly any of this. I like that it caught me off guard. I love how this show just completely baffles me at every turn, how it will present concepts and ideas to me that I've never read a fic about.

In retrospect, Chat Noir being absent from the final battle... makes sense. It actually makes a lot of sense, if I think about it, because... there is only one possible way that could've gone, right? Chat Noir would not be allowed to have the emotional implosion that he would have to have. This is devastating. This is SO devastating. This is the entire shattering of Adrien's entire world we're talking about, and Chat Blanc is the only real way for that to end. Adrien has an emotional implosion in front of Monarch, he gets akumatized, it turns into an emotion explosion, extinction event. The end. We've already seen it.

And........ even if it didn't end that way, even if he managed to avoid akumatization...... how could the finale satisfyingly end on that note? How could it end in any semblance of a "wrapped up" way, at the very start of Adrien's emotional breakdown? It couldn't. I wouldn't WANT it to. In retrospect, Adrien finding out his dad is Monarch and then.... what? The season ends on a close-up of him crying? The season ends with a time-skip to the new school year where they skipped his entire grieving period!? I would HATE that, actually. I would hate that. I thought I wanted it, but I would hate it. I would hate it so so so much.

What's kind of amazing is that the finale ended with Monarch being defeated.... but Adrien still has those realizations to make. He still has those betrayals to come to terms with. There is time for him to make these realizations, for him to come to these conclusions, perhaps one at a time, perhaps in a more controlled environment.... and that gets me far, far more excited for the seasons to come than an episode that tried to wrap it all up in the last 5 minutes.

Also, the reason Adrien didn't go to the final battle was because he feared becoming Chat Blanc. He didn't know the truth to it, didn't understand that literally, yes, that's what would have happened if he was there, even if he hadn't been under a nightmare curse. But he still knew. He still expected it. He willingly chose to sit it out, no matter how much he hated it, because he knew. And there's something kind of powerful to that, I think, of Adrien making a choice that is so unequivocally the Correct choice, even more than he realized. And the strength it took for him to make that decision...... damn.

As for the lies and the Gabriel statue? I... it's upsetting, but it's supposed to be. And I believe it. I absolutely believe it. I 10000% believe Marinette would keep the secret of Monarch's identity to herself to try to save Adrien the pain. I 10000% believe that the population could easily be led to believe a famous billionaire is a hero. I 10000% believe that Adrien would WANT to believe it. I 10000% believe Tomoe would take advantage of it.

And I can't wait to see that illusion crumble.

Also.... this is the beginning of The Lila arc.

And the Lila arc begins on........ Marinette telling the biggest, boldest face lie she ever told. The Lila arc begins on the most extreme city-wide illusion we've ever seen. It begins on such a huge fabrication and....

..... it's Marinette's lie.

............ and Lila knows that it's a lie.

I'm

!!?!?!?!

This is so fucking cool???? The irony here??? the deceit???? All these loose ends, all the possible confrontations, all the ways this could GO. I don't know where the show is taking this, obviously, because nobody ever can predict where this show is going apparently (and I love it for that), but oh my god. I'm imagining all the fics I could read about this. all the fics I could write. all the thoughts and scenarios that this finale has provided me with to daydream about as I go to sleep.

Adrien, going through the motions of life. Looking up to his father as a hero, despite the fact the last time he saw him, Adrien was sobbing, in tears, and cursing his name. Adrien, after all the abuse he was subject to, having to look up at a statue of his father and...... be forced to think that maybe he was wrong about his father. But he's not wrong. He WASN'T wrong. He just THINKS that he is. His father is going to continue to loom over his life in ways I never expected post-hawkmoth. Adrien's relationship with Gabriel has not ended, a new and terrifying and horrible new chapter of it has simply begun, and Adrien is still as manipulated by his father's ghost as he was by his father himself.

THAT'S. WILD!!!

also, Adrien now believes that MONARCH MURDERED HIS FATHER. Chat Noir now believes that his greatest nemesis KILLED HIS FATHER. CHAT NOIR, resident self-sacrificer, believes that HIS FATHER was a HERO who DIED FIGHTING MONARCH. Adrien thinks that maybe he should be more like his father— more like his father who died in battle. This is. Not Good. For Adrien.

And it's Marinette that started this. Well intentioned Marinette, who doesn't really understand the extent of the horrors. Marinette, Adrien's girlfriend, the person he trusts most. She did this.

And, I mean.... god. I totally get how this sucks for a lot of people, because it's objectively upsetting.... but I LOVE lovesquare tension. Season 4 is probably my favorite season for that reason alone (still mulling over if season 5 beat it for me). I love the relationship drama, I love that it's in character drama, I love how it fits everything we know about them sososo well, I love that it's horrible and it's terrible and it's awful and it's all because Marinette loved Adrien too much to want to hurt him.

I was worried no reveal would mean that season 6 would just be... what? adrienette fluff? not that I don't love that, but where's the drama? well. there it is. that's the drama.

I need to stop typing this. I know this is abysmally long and ranty and if you read all of this then I'm sorry. But I wanted to get some of my thoughts out.

But basically, I was expecting a lot of things for the finale.

In my best case scenario, it would somehow, miraculously tie up and address all the loose ends with Adrien's angst and character arc in two episodes.... and then end with me totally satisfied, ready to only half-heartedly watch season 6 like it was just a small dessert after the main course.

And I already described my worst case scenario (my first impression of the episode lmao)

But it wasn't that. I was expecting a series finale, but I got a season finale. And I love season finales. I love how they keep me wanting more. I love how excited I am for season 6, because in both my best and worst case scenarios, I honestly didn't expect to be. I love all the new ideas and thoughts and scenarios swirling around in my brain. And even if season 6 doesn't address some of the things I want addressed, I'm so excited to see the creative content in this fandom that DOES

#ml spoilers #ml s5 spoilers #ml s5 finale spoilers #ml re-creation #ml recreation #recreation spoilers #re-creation spoilers #I am SO SO SO SORRY that htis rant went OFF and I just rambled and rambled and I'm sure nobody will read this. however #sometimes I want to be silly. and my silly moment is rambling about my favorite show into the void on my tumblr #im not proof reading this so im so sorry if it's. um. all over the place and riddled w typos 😭 im vibing im vibing

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suzukiblu · 1 month

Note

If you feel up for it, for the writing meme prompt, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, with the song You And Me by Lifehouse? If it's not your thing I totally get it though and hope you have a great time and fun writing the things that do catch your fancy!

I think we ALL knew that I was gonna do baby Kon for this, lbr. Also ngl, this came out way more cracky than the prompt would suggest it should've but it is absolutely my favorite thing I’ve written for this meme so far, as the necessity for the following cut should help attest, haha.

Unfortunately, Lex takes one look at Cadmus’s progress report on the newly-crafted Experiment Thirteen and realizes he has paternal instincts.

Well, that’s inconvenient. And a little disgusting, honestly. Certainly a disappointment.

He supposes it could be worse. He could be Lionel about this.

Anyway, that’s how he has a physiological four year-old on his lap when he hears the news about Superman coming back to life and fistfighting an evil cyborg with his own face about it, because of course the man didn’t have the decency to just stay dead. Why would he, after all?

Lex needs a drink. That would be a bad example for the physiological four year-old, though.

Then again, Experiment Thirteen should be completely immune to the effects of Earth-based alcohol in about another four to six months of consistent yellow sun exposure, so . . .

Lex is halfway through his second brandy when Superman shows up on his balcony at super-speed wearing a very pretentiously dramatic black suit and looking both winded and bewildered. And still alive, unfortunately.

“Don’t you have a murderous cyborg to be ensuring is in custody?” Lex asks dryly, deciding to just not acknowledge the presence of the physiological four year-old who’s moved on to messily but methodically coloring on the floor underneath his desk. Lex didn’t actually give Experiment Thirteen either a coloring book or crayons, mind, but he appreciates the clone’s resourcefulness in breaking into the office supplies. Anyway, it’s useful for developing its hand-eye coordination and fine motor control.

Superman’s pupils are pin-pricks, barely even there at all. Which is an unusual reaction from him, and Lex notes that fact reflexively but doesn’t particularly care about it. Meant-to-be-dead people do unusual things, especially the alien ones. And it isn’t as if–

“Baby,” Superman blurts, his eyes wide.

Lex . . . pauses. Takes a slow sip of his brandy.

Alright then.

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” he settles on eventually, raising an eyebrow at him. Experiment Thirteen peers out from under the desk, immediately decides Superman isn’t an interesting presence, and then goes back to coloring all over Lex’s floor. It seems to be drawing either a puppy or a chain of complex genetic sequencing, but judging by the kinds of things it’s been drawing so far, it’s fifty-fifty. Lex has been getting the impression the clone actually likes art, which is a baffling interest to find in his own progeny, but how does that quote go . . . “I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet”?

Or something like that, anyway.

“No, I–baby,” Superman stresses, looking bewildered as he floats down a little closer to the open balcony door.

“. . . yes, I’ve noticed,” Lex repeats, raising his eyebrow again and taking another sip of brandy. Superman looks frazzled, bobbing up a little higher in the air again to get a better view of Experiment Thirteen under the desk. Experiment Thirteen keeps ignoring him in favor of its coloring, displaying no apparent interest in the most powerful uninvited guest in the history of illegal immigration. Lex experiences a moment of overwhelming paternal pride, which is such a bizarre and unanticipated experience that he doesn’t even know what to do with it.

“Where’d he come from?” Superman asks with a wondering expression. Ugh.

“A cloning lab,” Lex replies dismissively, setting his near-empty glass down on the desk. It’s hardly worth lying about Experiment Thirteen’s origins at this point. He didn’t want to murder everyone in Cadmus to keep the secret. He might need them if there’s an issue with Experiment Thirteen’s genetics later, after all. “We mixed it up a couple weeks ago while you were off wasting everyone’s time being dead."

“You had my baby?” Superman says, tilting in the air and still staring at Experiment Thirteen, as if he's somehow forgotten both how much kryptonite Lex owns and how much kryptonite he keeps specifically in this office. “While I was dead. You had my baby while I was dead.”

. . . alright then, Lex thinks again, both eyebrows raising this time.

“I really wouldn’t put it that way, personally,” he says. “Also, I don’t recall saying it was in any way yours.”

“Baby,” Superman repeats inanely, then lands on the floor and ducks down into a crouch to peer under the desk better, his pupils still reduced to barely-there pinpricks. Lex is so mystified he doesn't even activate the security system or the weaponized red sun lamps. Experiment Thirteen frowns at Superman–Lex, again, basks in unanticipated paternal pride–and then turns its back on him and hides all its drawings from him as seriously and carefully as if they were under NDA.

It's almost adorable, frankly.

Not that Lex finds things adorable, of course.

“His heartbeat's so cute,” Superman says, looking absolutely fascinated. Which is surprisingly useful of him to mention, actually, since Lex had previously been vaguely concerned that Experiment Thirteen's odd thrumming heartbeat might be a sign of a heart defect, but apparently it’s just a Kryptonian thing. A . . . “cute” Kryptonian thing, according to Superman.

Lex is increasingly mystified by this interaction.

“Can’t say I’ve spent much time listening to it, personally,” he lies, because he has in fact obsessed over that heartbeat’s health and stability since first finding out about its unusualness and has done a truly aggravating amount of research into heart murmurs and conditions and the like. But that’s hardly Superman’s business, now is it.

“. . . what’s his name?” Superman asks hesitantly. Lex is possibly having an out of body experience.

“Experiment Thirteen,” he says. Superman immediately looks offended.

“We need to give him a name, Lex,” he says. Lex, again, has an out of body experience.

“‘We’?” he repeats incredulously. “I made it, I get to decide what it’s called.”

“He’s got my DNA!” Superman protests, looking indignant. Lex has absolutely no idea how to process that expression.

“It has both our DNA, in fact, yours was too irritating to stabilize alone,” Lex informs him dubiously. More accurately it was literally impossible to stabilize alone, but he’s not mentioning that to Superman. “So it has my DNA, and I made it. And also put eight point two billion dollars into its production, as a lowball estimate. Therefore I’m the one who decides what its name is, thank you very much.”

“Lex,” Superman says disapprovingly. “You can’t call a baby Experiment Thirteen.”

“It’s physiologically developed enough to complain if it doesn’t like it,” Lex retorts, narrowing his eyes at him. Superman frowns at him. Lex has never had a more ridiculous conversation with the man, including all the times Superman’s tried to appeal to his nonexistent “better nature”. “Well it is.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Superman says, then ducks back down and peers at Experiment Thirteen again, gentling his voice to address it while Lex is still incredulously mouthing “ridiculous”? to himself. “Would you like a real name, kiddo?”

Experiment Thirteen sticks its tongue out at him.

Lex is finding parenthood to be a very rewarding experience, actually.

#clex #lex luthor #clark kent #kon el #conner kent #superman #superboy #superfamily #rinfic #anonymous

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angelcent · 8 months

Text

ABOUT A GIRL・❥・S. GOJO

from an old ask: how do we feel about tattoist!gojo?! and your first tattoo being done by him. contains. tattoo artist gojo, tattoo virgin reader, grungepunk!gojo, fluff

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı — about a girl / nirvana

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo is constantly recommended by people because he's known for several things: his pure attention to detail, his versatility in tattoo styles, how light his hand is, and how comfortable he makes his clients feel. he can be a little overwhelming and intimidating, though.

✧˚ · . unlike suguru who can be a bit pretentious and internally judgmental about his clients choices, tattoist!gojo really doesn't care as long as it's not something too offensive.

✧˚ · . his studio is decorated with an assortment of movie & concert prints, as well as pictures he's taken with suguru and shoko or their other friends. at the front desk is his ugly clay coffee mug that megumi made for him as a child that he now uses to store pens. it has a lot of personality and makes you feel at ease when you walk through the doors and fill out your paper work.

✧˚ · . when you first meet satoru, he doesn't take much notice of you because he doesn't want you to feel leered at; it's a common occurance for male tattooists to make others uncomfortable; and you're trusting him with such a vulnerable process, so satoru keeps his distance. keeps it professional.

✧˚ · . as it's your first time, he gives you a rundown of the entire process and is honest—blunt—about the pain you'll experience, but also reassures you that you'll be okay. "anyway, don't give that much though," he grins, absently twirling his pen. as if he hadn't just almost frightened you out of the door. "I'll take good care of you, hm? leave it to me." and he says it with such self assured confidence, that it completely eases your nerves.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo texts you a checklist in order to prepare for your appointment—what clothing is best, possible snacks to bring (water is provided), an on-call friend in case you want to be picked up, and oddly, what music you like?

✧˚ · . whatever is your music type is, you walk into his space on the day of your first session with it softly playing inside the shop. tattoist!gojo is talkative; walking you through his entire sanitation process and the tools he'll be using. unbeknownst to you, satoru is observant in his daily life and in his profession. he quickly caught the way your shoulders were drawn up with nerves, how you wiped the palm of your hand over your thigh. and the more you hear him talk, the more relaxed your body language becomes. it's why he does it.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo in an old washed out band shirt again. it's what he always wears, and most belong to suguru. his best friend has given up on his clothes being stolen after so many years.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo just as talkative when he's finally putting ink on your skin, and it surprisingly keeps your mind off the pain. sometimes you tune him out, but the rumble of his attractive voice keeps you grounded. satoru will talk about anything and everything. he tells you about his first tattoo—three eyes behind his ears on each side. six in total. and how he got them done at this small punk show when he was sixteen and egged on by his best friend.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo has ink all over his visible skin— arms, neck, you even catch a peek of more inked skin below the collar of his t-shirt when he leans down. what's cute is all the small doodles in the empty spaces between the bigger pieces, and he tells you how he did most of them himself whenever he's bored. some are done by friends, like a small happy face near his knuckle from haibara.

✧˚ · . as much as he tries to keep this professional though, satoru slowly becomes attracted to you over the course of your session. he rarely hits it off with someone so well, and he finds himself listening intently to every piece of information you give him about yourself.

✧˚ · . he can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but you either call him out on it or bite back. he loves that.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo is great at calling to check up on your healing, giving you reminders on how to maintain it until the next session. he can't help but want to hear your voice, so he calls instead of texting or emailing like he usually does. you don't know any better, though. works in his favor.

✧˚ · . on your last session, tattoist!gojo is filled with the pride that never gets old at seeing the piece almost finished. what was once a mere idea is now brought to life and forever inked on your pretty skin. and you seem excited about it as well.

"see, not so bad now, was it?" he hums, wiping at the final touches. he doesn't bother to fight back the smirk. "told you I'm the best." "hm, you're alright. I guess." you tease, chuckling when he immediately looks up at you looking like a kicked puppy. "I'm kidding. thank you, satoru. really. I'm already thinking of what to get next, actually." if he were a dog, his ears would be perked up. tail wagging. he almost wants to barf.

"yeah? you sure you're not just saying that cause you'll miss seeing me?" he jokes, but deep down he's hoping you'll want him to remain as your future artist. even if that's the only way he'll keep seeing you, he'll take it. he's enjoyed far too much the way you make him feel wanted. "maybe I am." you murmur. swallowing your pride, you let the words spill out of your mouth. "but what if I wanted to see you sooner? you said I should go to your friends show this weekend. it'll be my first time, so it'd help to have you there." as soon as the words come out of your mouth, you're already regretting being so bold. satoru is just a friendly guy, he obviously just wanted his friend to get support and probably says that to everyone. so you backtrack immediately. "b-but if you can't or don't want to it's okay! sorry I just—" "'course I want to, buttercup. heh, I said I'll take good care of you, remember?" he laughs a little too loudly, quickly looking down at your finished piece. he wipes at the clean skin, pretending like he's working but he's just hiding his reddened cheeks. he hopes the crack in his voice was only audible to him. doesn't want you to see what a loser he is and how much you affect him.

#starring: satoru gojo #dipping my toe back in with a polished repost #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff

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ham1lton · 8 days

Text

summer came like cinnamon (so sweet)

pairing(s): logan sargeant x reader. oscar piastri x reader.

warnings: mentions of mental health, dieting, fractured friendships and constant mention of jim’s ice cream parlour. also different povs, it goes through the minds of all three of the main characters.

summary: after their rookie season, in a bid to repair their friendship, the two drivers decide to take their new paycheques and go explore the sun, sea and sands of greece. what they didn’t anticipate was to bump into you.

wordcount: 5.6k

author’s note: this is my first semi-interactive fic, please give it some love <3 any major issues in travelling and stuff like in terms of logistics? please ignore. also let me know who you’re planning on choosing. team oscar or team logan?

— wanna be updated on the next parts? join my taglist! —

— part one of the summer lovin’ series. —

[ i ain’t a kid no more / we’ll never be those kids again ]

logan didn’t know why he was so overwhelmed with anxiety, when he knocked on oscar’s door on that rainy thursday night.

this was his oscar, the oscar that had practically grown up with him. the one who knew how he liked his toast and that he was fond of a burger with all the extras. that he had a scar on his left ankle from when he was a kid and wrestled with his brother after watching too much wwe.

ever since he had signed to williams and oscar had been a mclaren driver, they had hardly talked in comparison to their pre-formula one days. when he had crashed out during a race, he half expected oscar to text him or come knocking on his hotel door.

he didn’t. logan pretended he wasn’t surprised.

fuck it. bite the bullet. he lifted his hand high and knocked on the door. three quick taps in succession.

“one moment!” oscar called from inside. logan would wait, even if that old lady from room 135 kept looking at him like he was an intruder. maybe he was. he hadn’t been in oscar’s room for a while.

oscar opened the door with messy hair and a shirt that had been clearly shoved on before he opened the door.

“logan? hi.” oscar swallowed. the awkwardness in the space between the two of them felt heavy. “you okay mate?”

“yeah! yeah.” logan fake laughed, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. “just wanted to come see you.”

“i’m here.” oscar grinned, with no teeth, at his own joke. “wanna come in?”

“sure. kinda awkward talking in the hallway anyways. that old lady is about five minutes from calling the cops on me.”

“oh that’s just brenda.” oscar said after leaning out and getting a glance at the woman, who waved at him. he waved back. “she’s harmless.”

logan followed oscar into his room. it was bigger than his and he didn’t know if feeling jealous was appropriate. he had felt many emotions when it came to oscar; happy, sad, angry, and others. he didn’t want jealousy to join the list.

“sorry, my room is a mess. i wasn’t expecting company.” oscar laughed with no heart behind it as he sat down on his unmade bed. “take a seat logan, you’re giving me anxiety just standing around.”

logan immediately sits down on the desk chair.

“so, what are your plans for the summer?”

“mine?” oscar thinks to himself. “probably just to go see my family and my friends back home.”

“i was thinking maybe we could, i don’t know.” logan bites his lip anxiously. “do something together?”

“like what?” oscar is curious now, his eyes focused.

“maybe go on that european holiday we always talked about? we have the money now and no parents to tell us no like last time.” logan speaks in a rush. “but obviously if you say no, dude that’s totally fine.”

logan looks at oscar, who’s actually considering it? he thinks to himself for a moment before turning to logan.

“how many days?”

“as long as you’d like.”

“where would we go?”

“anywhere you’d want.”

“make a decision, logan. i’ll say yes or no.”

“we always wanted to go to greece? how about there? maybe for three weeks?”

“we should go for a month. we can travel.”

wait. so that means? oscar’s face is still impassive. he doesn’t say yes or no, but he is still considering it. that’s a positive.

“that’s fine. i’m flexible.”

“i’ll plan it.” oscar nods.

“so is that a yes?”

“obviously.” oscar finally smiles, open and dazzling. logan grins too, allowing himself to bask in the approval. he was almost 67% sure that oscar would say no. he’d already done the maths, but it wasn’t his strongest subject anyways.

“i’ll text you the details.” oscar nods and logan gets up, running a hand through his hair. giddy with happiness that he’ll finally win his best friend back. this’ll be the trip that heals them. that heals him.

-❀-

oscar gets stressed when he’s not in charge. everything has to go through him. the plans, the schedule and especially the driving. he’s never liked being in the passenger seat. his hands get fidgety and he doesn’t know how to calm them down.

he’s lucky that logan is all too happy to sit in it, his eyes focused on making the perfect road trip playlist. for some reason, they’d decided to drive from london all the way down to munich.

they’d already driven down from london and through the eurotunnel and took a break sightseeing in france - which oscar had already scheduled for. they ate their weight in croissants. they ate steak and frites. logan had bought them matching ‘i ♥︎ paris’ t-shirts and oscar rolled his eyes but packed it neatly in his suitcase anyways.

they hadn’t talked about anything other than surface level topics. logan talking about his favourite sports teams, them both discussing the grid and plans for the upcoming season and the usual small talk about their family’s wellbeings.

they didn’t talk about how they ignored each other unless a camera necessitated a conversation. they didn’t talk about logan’s bad season. they stayed up till stupid hours watching badly dubbed french movies and ordering takeout.

they drove to germany, dropped off their rental car and then got a plane from munich to athens. it wasn’t very long at all but logan still curled up against the window and tried to sleep. they were both connected to the spotify account on logan’s phone - logan using his headphones and oscar with his airpods. their road trip playlist still playing.

oscar didn’t know why he didn’t take them out, even when the playlist inevitably repeated itself.

-❀-

they’d been in athens all of two days when they met you. logan had gone an insanely bright red when he’d forgotten his sunscreen had ran out. oscar laughed at first but then ran to the nearest pharmacy to grab emergency sunscreen and aloe vera for the both of them.

after slathering themselves, they’d decided to seek refuge in a small ice cream store. despite the hot weather, the store was almost completely empty besides the two of them and you. you were fiddling with your phone in the corner as you attempted to hook it up to the speakers.

“fuck’s sake!” you shout quietly, frustratingly trying to make it work. “i can’t do this shift without any music. my thoughts’ll drive me insane.”

“um?” oscar breaks the awkward silence. you jump and turn around. the first thing that they both notice is that you’re pretty. really pretty. even in the unflattering oversized neon green work t-shirt.

“sorry! sorry! i apologise. i didn’t think anyone was in the shop. please forgive me.” you look flustered as you move to quickly wash your hands and dry them. “what would you both like today?”

to be honest, logan hadn’t been thinking about the ice cream. oscar didn’t need to think, he was going to get his usual order.

“can i get two scoops of mint chocolate chip?”

“oh that’s disgusting. i forgot that you eat that.” logan shakes his head in shock.

“it’s good. you’re just a hater.” oscar rolls his eyes. “stick to your boring vanilla.”

“it’s a classic!” logan turns to you and asks for two scoops of vanilla and one scoop of mango. you smile and begin to start their orders.

“you guys aren’t from around here, are you?” you ask.

“nah. the accents give it away?” logan laughs as he slings an arm around oscar’s shoulder. oscar rolls his eyes again but makes no move to push him away.

“yeah. a little bit.” you pinch your fingers together as you say it. “i’m not really from here either.”

“no?” oscar replies this time, curious.

“international student. this was one of the few places that’d hire me with my insane schedule. i’m lucky i have the next month off, thankfully.”

“aren’t you going back home?”

“i could if i wasn’t scheduled to work here practically every day for the next month.” you finish logan’s order and move on to oscar’s. you shrug. “and i need the money. the job could be worse really, i just wish the speaker fucking worked and the air conditioning. luckily i stand close to the ice cream.”

“what do you study?”

“archaeology.”

“best place for that is probably here.”

“yes. i don’t know why but ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to come to greece and study here. this is the less glamorous side of it but i’m here doing what i love.”

“that’s all that matters right?” logan chimes in. you nod as you scan their orders into your till.

“that’ll be €7.62.” you say. “cash or card?”

“cash.” oscar says as he pulls out his wallet. he’s infinitely glad he’d prepared and went to the cash exchange in london before he’d left. logan doesn’t even bother to offer, he picks up his ice cream and starts to eat it.

oscar hands you the cash as logan moves to a booth right by the open door to take advantage of the breeze. you count back the change and place it right in his hand. his heart doubles a beat as your hands touch for a moment but the moment is broken as your phone suddenly decides that now is the time to work.

the speakers start blaring natasha bedingfield’s ‘pocketful of sunshine’. you curse, close the till with your hip and turn to fiddle with the playlist.

oscar thinks he’s a little in love.

-❀-

logan knows that oscar likes you, which is a problem because he likes you too.

this road trip was supposed to be about finding themselves, not finding you. yet, when they find themselves back in your ice cream store the next few days, it’s no coincidence.

“you’re back again! the american and australian.” on day four, you’re not alone this time. you have a colleague, a girl who’s slightly older than you. she smirks at the two of them like she knows a secret they don’t know. “i’m not the only international one here!”

the speakers seem to work normally today, playing elton john as you hum along with it. your colleague decides that it’s time to take her lunch break, slipping off her apron and leaving the three of you to it.

“same thing as every day? or are we changing it up?”

“what do you recommend?” logan asks earnestly. he’s not losing oscar to you, maybe if he charms you enough, you’ll pick him. he doubts you will.

“everything is good here but if you really want my opinion? the chocolate fudge is a real crowd pleaser.”

“i’ll take two scoops of that and oscar’ll just have mint chocolate.” logan pulls out his wallet, opens it to find a mix of euros in there. he takes a moment to pick at the right change when you shake your head at him.

“no, it’s fine. it’s on the house today. i’m in a good mood.”

“why?”

“a lot of reasons. you know what? i forgot that i didn’t even introduce myself. i’m y/n.”

“we know.” oscar is amused.

“how? are you psychic? i used to know a psychic once and i also watched that’s so raven. great show.”

“your name badge.” logan nods at your shirt as he eats a spoonful of ice cream. you were right, it’s amazing. not too sickly but just the right amount of chocolate.

“oh.” you bite your lip in embarrassment as oscar takes his ice cream.

“i’m oscar and the american is logan.” logan smiles and waves his free hand at you. “is the shop always this empty?”

“no. it’s really busy after school and at peak times. you just always come quite early. lucky. it’s hell in here when it’s busy.” you seem relieved for the topic change. “you both here on holiday?”

“yeah. a break from our jobs.”

“lucky. my best friend is back home and i wish she was with me. she’s planning on coming up at some point thankfully. i hate being here without all my friends.”

“i can be your friend.” logan says. then he immediately regrets it. what if you think that he’s a weirdo? but when your face lights up, he realises that regret was a fleeting feeling.

“i’d love that. let me take your number. one of the guys from my class is hosting a beach party tonight if you both wanna come.”

logan looks at oscar who shrugs as if to say ‘i don’t mind if you don’t’. logan turns back to you, who is the middle of unlocking your phone and grins.

“we’ll be there.”

he types his number in your phone and sends a message to himself to save yours.

“i’ll text you the details.”

the speaker interrupts the moment that you have as it starts to malfunction. you curse again and throw your hands up in annoyance.

“stupid fucking speaker! so stupid!”

-❀-

the party is already well underway, when oscar and logan arrive. logan didn’t bother with buttoning up his shirt. he wasn’t necessarily the most confident man in the world but he was comfortable with his nakedness in a way that oscar didn’t think he’d ever be. oscar was in a undershirt with a loose overshirt.

you finally make your way over to them, panting slightly. you’re wearing a plain white bikini with an open oversized orange and yellow patterned hawaiian shirt. your hair is free from the bun they’ve seen you in work with. you smile, easy and happy.

“my two favourite customers!” you sling an arm around the two of them, hugging them so close that they can smell your perfume. “come on, let me introduce you to the five other people i know.”

you lead them down to the bonfire, where three girls and two other guys are crowded around. they cheer when you arrive with the two of them.

“guys, this is oscar and logan.” they wave politely. “oscar and logan, this is anya, jerome, alex, sienna and jaya.”

the group all cheer and welcome the two guys. it’s clear that everyone is already buzzed. oscar has never really been a big drinker so he declines a beer when offered. logan shotguns it, the residue dripping down his face. you laugh and attempt to wipe it off his face. logan goes lax in your touch and oscar can’t watch anymore.

the speaker that someone played is playing shakira as the two of you giggle in your own little world. oscar turns to jerome? or was it alex? and starts a conversation. talking about some footy game that they were watching earlier. oscar is about as into football as the next guy, but he really needs to focus on something else besides the two of you.

oscar knew that logan had always harboured some sort of inferiority complex when it came to the two of them, but logan had something that oscar doesn’t think he’d ever have - being genuinely likeable.

oscar knew he’d have to win because no one would support him as a loser. logan is just likeable regardless of what position he’s in - an underdog if he loses and a force of nature when he wins.

likeable gets the girl.

-❀-

you decide to walk the two of them to the end of the beach. the night is inky black and the only light is the remnants of the bonfire you’d lit earlier. logan is buzzed, oscar is distant and you’re still vibrating from the fact that logan made the two of you run into the cold water with him in the middle of the night.

“tonight was fun! i’m glad you were both able to make it!” you lean in and hug them both goodbye. logan swears you’d lingered a little longer while hugging him. “i’ll see you both at jim’s ice cream?”

“what is that?” logan asks bluntly. oscar elbows him lightly, not hard enough to cause damage but just enough to wind him slightly.

“the ice cream parlour she works at dumbass.” he turns to you. “we’ll see you there”

“well, i do work there. so yeah.” you laugh. all twinkly and bright. then you’re waving and jogging back to your friends. oscar watches logan look at you and sighs.

“come on man, let’s get you back.”

-❀-

logan wakes up with a hangover the next morning. oscar is a good friend and runs to the continental free breakfast and sneaks him out some waffles, croissants and eggs. he walks to the pharmacy again, paying for some ibuprofen (at least he hopes that’s what it is) with his cash and runs to the corner store to grab some extra snacks.

logan’s eyes are wide with both joy and disbelief. joy that something is there for his splitting headache and disbelief that oscar would do that for him. oscar feels a little ball of guilt unravelling inside. how bad had he let their friendship become?

they spend the day inside for the most part. watching television together. then they go outside to the pool, logan immediately jumps in but oscar sits on the side. he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the texts that he’s been ignoring. the ones from some friends, his mum, and you?

it’s not a coincidence right? that you spent the whole evening with logan and text him the next day?

he holds the phone close to his chest. he doesn’t want logan seeing this. he doesn’t know why that is. he quickly texts you back. then logan shouts.

“hey oscar! come in! the water is gorgeous.”

oscar grins and slips into the water, keeping his shirt on.

-❀-

the two of them end up at the steak restaurant together that night. they’re both dressed as nicely as possible. oscar in a nice sweater and logan in a dress shirt. the maître d’ smiled knowingly at the two of them and led them to their table.

“he thinks we’re together.” oscar whispers to logan.

“are we not?”

“we are in the literal sense. i meant in the romantic, relationship sort of sense.” logan laughs and bats his eyelashes all coy.

“oh no! oscar are you breaking up with me?”

“obviously. i’m leaving you for my secretary.” oscar’s deadpan voice just makes logan laugh harder.

“i knew it, that skank! i’ll get him fired.” oscar laughs too, breaking out into an easy smile that comes easily when logan’s around.

the sounds of the restaurant move around the two of them as they peruse the menu for a long time. it’s been a while with no conversation when oscar bites the bullet and brings it up.

“hey.” logan looks up. “i’m sorry.”

“for the secretary? don’t be. i’m running away with the pool boy.” oscar shakes his head, smiling.

“no.” oscar says. “for what happened. letting our friendship fall to the sidelines. i didn’t mean it but it didn’t excuse it. i really do like being your friend logan. i wouldn’t jeopardise that.”

logan is silent. oscar wonders if he’s crossed some unspoken line. he bites the inside of his cheek and looks at the wall of the restaurant’s decor. it’s all dark in here. would it kill them to buy some light bulbs? he understands its for ‘ambiance’ and that shit but he’s worried that he won’t be able to find his steak in the darkness.

“i was gonna say i was sorry. i thought it was my fault. that you didn’t want to be friends with,” he cuts himself off, laughing awkwardly. “a loser.”

“no. that wasn’t it. you’re not a loser, not to me.”

“i am. that’s a fact. it’s okay. you’re very nice for that but, it’s just not true.” logan swallows thickly. “now, should i get potatoes or fries as my sides?”

oscar doesn’t comment on logan’s facial expression, that he looks like he’s holding it together by a thread. he knew emotional vulnerability took a lot out of him but it was harder on the person who admitted failure.

“potatoes.” logan grins and nods before calling over the waiter.

-❀-

the next time you saw the two guys was two days after the bonfire party. they came in laughing at a joke that had happened way before they had even walked in. you find yourself standing up as soon as they enter.

“hi! y/n!” logan’s smile is always wide and happy to see you. oscar’s smile is muted but it’s still sweet. “what would you recommend for me? i liked the chocolate fudge.”

“hmm,” you think, running your hand along the counter. “we have a new flavour, chocolate covered raspberry? it’s quite popular. i think you’d like it.”

“i trust your judgement, ice cream girl.”

you crack a smile at the nickname, the smile so big that it momentarily hurts your face for a moment. you turn to oscar.

“and what about you?”

“same as usual, two scoops of vanilla.”

you nod, getting to work on the ice creams. you even offer to pay for them but they argue, threatening to shove it all in the tip jar anyway. oscar pays and when your back is turned, logan shoves twice the amount into the tip jar.

“wanna sit with us in the booth today y/n?” logan asks, taking a spoonful of his ice cream. “it’s not like anyones here.”

oscar looks up at you with his wide eyes, not really eating his ice cream. he just swirls it, until it turns into a sort of thick soup. you shrug and slide into the booth across from the two of them. you don’t have anything else to do and if a customer does decide to walk in? well, you’ll just slide back behind the counter.

“so, what’s your plan for the future?” logan grins. “and i know it’s the worst possible question to ask any young person but i’m curious. what’s the goal? is there one? it’s okay if there isn’t.”

“dream is to become an archeologist and backup plan? i don’t know. work in an office or something? maybe teaching. i haven’t thought that far ahead just yet.” you bite your lip and look out the window for a second. the day is hot, and you’re stuck inside. “what about you two? what do you do?”

“we uh, we drive.” logan looks at oscar.

“oh like uber? cool.”

“yeah, isn’t it?” oscar smiles at you.

“i still haven’t gotten my licence just yet. taxis aren’t too expensive and public transport is decent. also everywhere i need to be is pretty much walkable.” you smile at them. “have you visited all the touristy places yet?”

“not everywhere but we’re here for a while. we’re going to travel to santorini, mykonos and corfu. i’ve already planned them out.” oscar swallows his bite of ice cream. “scheduled to the exact moment we get there and get back.”

“an exotic european vacation.” you grin, waggling your eyebrows. logan laughs despite the joke not being very funny. “i’m jealous.”

“you could come with us.” oscar blurts out, his cheeks pinkening. “you’re probably busy though right? don’t worry about it. it’s weird.”

“no, no. it’s not. it’s very sweet and tempting.” you look outside the window again. “i’m not free for the whole time, but, definitely i could join you for a week? jim won’t care.”

“jim’s a real person?” logan asks, eyes wide. you laugh.

“yeah! he’s british actually. came over here when he retired and bought this place. he was one of the few people that’d hire me. my mum’s british.” you nod. “it’s a pretty decent job. if you ignore these hideous uniforms.”

you pull on the neon jim’s ice cream parlour shirt, face crumpling in disgust.

“you look good.” logan says, shyly, as he tongues the last of his ice cream. “this is good too. the ice cream. i knew i trusted you for a reason.”

-❀-

santorini is exactly like the instagram photos. well, despite being slightly too hot, a little less vibrant and he’s here with you and logan. logan has kept his shirt on this time, a loose linen blue one with a pair of shorts and flip flops. you’re dressed in a white skirt, a cropped tank top with a massive handbag.

oscar wants to do something crazy, like reach out and hold your hand or put his arm around your shoulders. he doesn’t because he’s not insane but he thinks about it for a solid moment. thinks about the way you’d curl into him or the way your shampoo would smell. he shakes his head.

“you don’t like it?” the two of you turn to look at him. fantastic. now he looks weird. his eyes widen.

“no, no! i love it. it’s lovely.” he reaches into his pocket, shaking hands grabbing his phone as he takes a picture. “i was thinking about the best angle to take this picture for my mum.”

“i’ll take a photo of you against the backdrop? maybe the both of you. your mum might like that. logan said you two were childhood best friends right?”

oscar nods. at least you bought his story. he stands against the barrier and smiles, awkwardly. he’s sure that all the other tourists are looking at him and thinking ‘what a weirdo, his crush on her is so obvious. she wants his best friend clearly, why even try?’

after a moment, logan stands next to him. logan dissipates the awkwardness with a wave of his hand and the two of them fall into an easy grin. when logan leans in and tells a joke, oscar finds himself laughing loudly with the click of your camera as background noise.

he sends it to his mother later on, when he’s in his hotel room with logan snoring in the room across from him. she texts him back quickly.

-❀-

— from mum.

well, it looks like you’re having fun honey!

— to mum.

yeah, i am.

-❀-

it doesn’t even feel like a lie when he messages her back in the cooling heat.

-❀-

it’s three days into the trip and two weeks into knowing the guys that you realise that you have a crush. it’s only a small inkling but you know it’s serious because no matter how much you try to dissuade it, it keeps popping up.

when you’re eating, when you’re brushing your teeth and even when you’re picking your outfit with him in mind. does he like blue? is he more of a yellow guy? or is it pink that’ll catch his eye?

the three of you head to a restaurant that night. it’s a seafood place, the three of you laughing and joking about something you’d seen earlier. they look good. smell good too. they even argue over who’s going to pay for the meal and look at you like you’ve got three heads when you offer to pay.

“it’s fine y/n, you’re a student.” oscar says, smiling as logan gives up. he pays quickly, all cash with no fuss. “we can get it.”

“ubering must make you a lot of money.”

“yeah. something like that.” he smiles again. this time with no teeth as he gets the receipt.

-❀-

logan goes to bed early that night, citing something about his family being desperate to check up on him. it leaves just the two of you outside in the corfu evening air.

“want to go for a walk?” you ask, looking at him earnestly.

“yeah. sure.” he’s trying not to be too eager. not to scare you off. the two of you start walking down the street.

“i always like to go for a slow walk after a big dinner. i feel like it probably helps with digestion.” you speak quietly, as if not to disturb the silence of the street. he likes your voice and is willing to listen at any volume you decide.

“i think it does. i try not to eat too much.” oscar responds, shoving a jittery hand in his pocket. “i can’t gain any weight for my job.”

“yeah, logan said. that’s weird. what kind of uber driver has a weight limit?” he shrugs and smiles. “do you miss australia?”

“sometimes. i’m used to travelling though. i’ve done it for so long.” he looks at you. “what about you? do you miss your home?”

“eh, i wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. i wanted to remake myself. i was gonna do it all y’know? a name change and everything.” you look up at the stars for a moment. “i didn’t go through with it. even if i changed my name, i’d still be y/n really. inside.”

“i get that. i think.” oscar looks at the gorgeous landscape in front of him. he ignores all the people milling around the two of you. to him it’s just you, him and the view. “so, y/n-“

your phone interrupts him. a loud, obnoxious ringing noise. you mouth an apology at him when you look at the caller id.

“sorry, it’s my best friend. she wouldn’t call me if it wasn’t important. she’s more of a texter anyways. do you mind?” you point at your phone. he shakes his head with a smile. you disappear to take your call and he finds a bench to sit on. he leans back, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

what was he thinking? asking you out? thank god the world or fate or god or whoever is in charge, stopped him before he made the biggest mistake of his life. you liked logan and he didn’t blame you. he really, truly didn’t.

when you come back, you ask him what he was going to ask. he shrugs. it wasn’t important anyways, he says. he asks what happened with your friend and listens you chatter all the way back about your friend’s current work drama.

-❀-

the next morning, logan and you head down to breakfast together. it’s a continental breakfast that the hotel offer. it’s good, with a wide spread of toast, pancakes, omelettes, cereal, fruit and sausages. you load up your plate, happy to get food for free even though technically you paid for it.

logan’s plate is smaller. you think about what they said earlier about weight limits and feel a pang of sympathy. i mean, your job was not very well paid but at least it gave you freedom in your spare time to do and eat whatever you want.

“is oscar not coming?” you ask, forking a fluffy piece of omelette and hash browns in your mouth. it’s gorgeous and you’re hungry.

“nah. he’s not feeling too good. i’ll bring him some breakfast in a bit.” logan methodically goes through his breakfast. slow, small bites and chews it for as long as possible. “wanna go for a swim later? it’s hot as hell outside. i feel my skin melting off.”

“you are going a little red.” you tease. he smiles again, shyly. his face does go red when you lean forward and press your cold cup against his cheek. “a little better?”

“it’d be better if you’d go swimming with me.” he smiles.

“of course i will. can’t leave you by yourself. who knows what’ll happen.” he laughs this time. “now wanna try some of this omelette?”

he sits politely as you lean over and feed him a forkful of the spinach and cheese omelette. for a moment, the two of you look into each other's eyes as you feed him. he turns away as soon as it’s okay and chews the bite.

“good?”

“yeah. yeah. it’s good.” he smiles at you. “let me just get some more water for us, be back in a moment.”

“is it getting too hot for you?” you tease.

“a little.” he sheepishly grins again. “let me cool down.”

-❀-

it’s your last day with the two of the guys before they drop you back off at the bus stop to go back to athens. your heart is still pinching at the thought of leaving, but you decide your last day can’t be in vain. they’ll be going home soon so it’ll be the best time to admit what you already knew. what you had known for the whole time.

you’d been on the phone with your best friend who had helped you to write a pros and cons list.

— pros - you could be a girlfriend to a great guy. you would be happy. you would have a rich boyfriend (your bff added that). you could touch them in any way they’d let you. you could sleep together. you could also sleep together (bff again). you would have a great time. you would have fun. would it improve your life? potentially.

— cons - they could say no and you’d have to jump off a cliff. they could be dating each other and you’d be embarrassed that you didn’t figure it out. they could laugh at you. they could be disgusted. they could be nice about it and gently let you down. they’re not even from anywhere close to greece. it’d be a long distance relationship. could you even deal with that?

you shake your head and lift your hand up to his bedroom door. the wood is cold under your knuckles. the world still moves around you, tourists laughing in their rooms and people walking around. their voices murmuring.

as your hand hovered there, you thought for a moment. about how this could change everything. was it too soon? too risky? then you remembered, it’s now or never.

take the plunge and with that, you knock.

liked by anyaaaa, alexjohnson and 183 others.

yourusername: this summer is going well. made two new friends, spent half of my savings and made some new memories and isn’t that what life is all about?

anyaaaa: when are you coming back? miss u girl!!

-> yourusername: soon! i just need to figure something out first.

-> anyaaaa: you’ll figure it out. you always do. can’t wait till you come back <33

taglist: @decafmickey @nichmeddar @casperlikej @purplephantomwolf @cuteskz @booksandflowrs @mxdi0 @alexmarie29 @luckyladycreator2 @23victoria @molten-m122 @evie-119 (want to be removed? or wondering why you weren’t tagged? check your tag settings or send me an ask!)

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elliespuns · 2 months

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There's this deleted dialogue between Ellie and Dina (video) where all of our theories of how their friendship/relationship started are confirmed. I took the time to write down the whole thing before analyzing the hell out of it.

Dina, is pink. Ellie, is not.

I was asking, if I hadn't come on to you in Jackson, how would you have hit on me? Like I would have hit on you. You totally would've hit on me. How bad could it have gone? You might have rejected me and then what? I'd have to watch you fall for someone else. Okay, worst case, it would be a little awkward and we just move on. There's no way we just move on. Yes, you would have. What if you were grossed out? What if you didn't wanna be around me anymore? Such a pussy. Okay, who was the one that had this blinding urge to kiss me for 4 years and didn't do shit?

Tell me about when you first realized you were into me. Was it my swagger, my overwhelming beauty? I was into from the day we met. Go on. The day we met, you introduced yourself to me and Joel like you were the major or something. Because I thought you were cute. *blushing* shut up! I hate you. No, you don't. Yes, I do. No, you don't. I love you. I love you too.

Okay, so, as Ellie says, she was into Dina from the day they met. Which was when they came to Jackson with Joel. Ellie was still 14 (I guess more likely freshly 15 at the time, actually). Dina is probably like a year older, so she was 16. I mean, now I can't stop imagining 15-year-old Ellie meeting 16-year-old Dina and being all twitterpated by her. Just remember the cuteness when Ellie was shown to be in love with Riley. Imagine this when she's 15 and meets Dina. Just adorable.

Also, quoting Ellie "Okay, who was the one that had this blinding urge to kiss me for 4 years and didn't do shit?"

This means even Dina had a crush on Ellie in the early stages. 4 years ago, Ellie was 15, so that means she either started to like her right away or a little bit later on. The girls were into each other, just tiptoeing around one another not to do anything stupid or ruin their friendship.

This also gives us a pretty clear picture of how things were between Ellie and Cat. She was already in love with Dina at the time she was going out with her, and remembering how Dina always disliked the fact that Ellie was hanging out with Cat only proves that Dina was jealous all along. Her relationship with Jessee must have been something similar to what Ellie had with Cat, although I believe that Dina started dating Jesse a lot sooner and had already been good friends before that.

Ellie seems a little hesitant when it comes to relationships (this whole dialogue confirms it too), so maybe if it wasn't for Cat making first steps, Ellie would have never gotten into any relationship to begin with. It seems to me that she just wanted to explore and wanted to know what it was like, but she didn't really made herself believe that she loved her. She surely cared for her and liked her, but knowing she was in love with Dina at the time, it was probably even the reason why Cat broke up with her (I always thought it was her who ended it). She probably knew all along that Ellie had eyes for her best friend anyway.

I also appreciate how Ellie admits she was insecure about asking Dina out. "What if you were grossed out? What if you didn't wanna be around me anymore?", I love how deep this digs into Ellie's personality and how, even though she is a strong and independent girl, she still struggles with abandonment issues. Now she doesn't feel like this only towards Joel, but towards her best friend too. Like, she is lovely, nice, funny, and beautiful, but she still feels insecure. Help me with this girl, she deserves the world because she'd rather love her friend from afar than ending up without a friend. Under the layer of thick skin and a strong mind, this girl is so fucking sensitive and fragile it physically hurts me.

This gives the dance scene a whole lot of new meaning. It's probably the very first time Dina says to herself, 'Okay, now's the time. It's now or never.' and after all those years of resisting, she makes a move on Ellie, knowing the girl must feel it too. The girl is too quirky and shy to hide it anymore whenever she's around Dina.

And Ellie? She has been loving Dina for too long, probably trying to convince herself she wouldn't have a chance with Dina, thinking she's into guys, not girls, let alone her girl best friend. And there she is, suddenly grabbing Ellie's hand and leading her on the dance floor, wrapping HER ARMS around HER BODY. Ellie's arms around her body. What is happening? Is she just imagining it? Ellie's heart must have missed thousands of beats at this moment. I love how it's shown in her facial expression as Dina whispers in her ear. Ellie is so awestruck that she doesn't even realize all Dina wants to do is something she should've done 4 years ago.

#the last of us #tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou #dina nolastname #dina tlou #ellie x dina #dinellie #the last of us part 2 #tlou part 2 #the last of us talk #elliespuns #elliespuns analyses

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pseudophan · 2 months

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some post wad weekend thoughts...

i just wrote all this on the plane and haven't read it through so apologies for any mistakes

first of all, this weekend was incredible. i usually just kinda sit at home doing not much of anything, and this was a much needed break to actually have some fun. london in general always lifts my spirits but i suppose that danisnotonfire guy contributed a little as well.

guys i think i've met more people the past few days than i otherwise have in years. like. holy shit. i started listing people but i'm petrified i'll forget someone so i chickened out, sorry about that. but you all know who you are. i've met friends i've had for years, people i used to know but haven't spoken to in what feels like a decade, newer friends, and a frankly baffling amount of people i didn't know yet but who told me they've followed me for ages. like holy fuck you guys lmao what the hell??? and i mean did the reaction ever get old no of course it didn't. bad for my ego i'm sure but totally worth it. there's something very amusing and incredibly surreal about being chronically lame in most aspects of life and then suddenly finding yourself in an environment where you're kinda cool???? SO fucking fun oh my god, but also i do kinda feel like i've tricked you all? but hey i'll happily let you keep believing i'm cool, that is more than fine with me.

most importantly though everyone was SO lovely. like i said i don't think i've spoken to this many people in such a short amount of time in years and every single person i talked to was awesome. guys did you know phannies are kind of great... don't tell anyone but, lowkey... everyone is so funny and cool and absolutely insane but in a good way (shoutout everyone left at the gates until the very end, we should probably get some help).

and then lastly of course, mr howell himself. i talk about this a lot i feel like but fuck me that man was born to perform. whether you think he's actually funny or not, nobody can argue he doesn't absolutely thrive on a stage. he plays off the audience so well and he's so very obviously having the time of his fucking life. i'd already seen the show twice before this, and i didn't think anything would top the previous london show but man... the first night he came back out after the show having clearly been tearing up backstage, apologising for being an inconsistent absent parent, and i can't lie the "i had daddy issues and THEN i subscribed to dan howell" got me cause yeah no literally dude, you nailed it, exactly, well done. i think something about doing this show again, his magnum opus as he considers it, now after the dapg return was very special to him. he seems genuinely surprised that so many of us were ready to just jump back in like nothing happened, i don't think he was expecting so many people to still be waiting and it's... man. he comes off so grateful for us all and it's so fucking sweet. and then on the last night, i think that was my favourite, when the show ended and he got the standing ovation and people throwing him flowers.. he was so HAPPY. and clearly overwhelmed with emotion which, i gotta say, there is something honestly kinda funny about daniel howell standing in front of you trying not to cry. like no by all means dude go ahead, please, you've made me cry an endless amount of times it's only fair.

ugh. i'm proud of him or whatever. dick. and i'm proud of our ridiculous fucking community. i'm not sure what 14 year old nora would say if you'd told me i'd still be kicking it in the phandom a decade on, but at almost 25 (fml) i'm so so happy to be here still. you know, we get a bad rep, but i genuinely think as far as fanbases go we're pretty solid. and i love you all so much.

i believe i will have to rob a bank or something because the next time dan and/or phil do a tour i think i'll have to just show up at every date like i'm sorry but this was too good of a high we need to do it again immediately

anyway. back to work 💪

(by which i mean giffing dan and phil. i am still very much unemployed. fr though i'm two whole videos behind this has never happened i feel weird. who am i)

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heliiacus · 2 months

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Roommate!Armin (sharing an apartment) with a roommate who has painful periods:

clocks it immediately. he doesn't ask and you don't tell (not for a little bit; not wanting to be inappropriate and such), but he notices very quickly when your periods come around, and how difficult they are for you.

fusses over you in his own way. it starts very small at first. he feels flustered and overwhelmed with the thought of helping you - he wants to do it very much, because it is in his nature, but he doesn't want to overstep. this is a delicate matter, after all. he knows for some uterus-bearing people it is a very private and sometimes taboo matter.

he can't help it, though. when he knows it's coming up, he always makes sure to get extra snacks for the communal areas. he doesn't go overboard, he's allocated a small limit to himself - to ensure it's not so obvious when they appear in the communal snack basket. he makes sure there's painkillers in the medicine cabinet. he always tries to do a little more for you - wash your dishes if he sees you've left some to wash a little later, or be less noisy when he knows it's the first, most painful days; he always finds an excuse to bring you tea, at least once. a blend of whichever kind (which he totally did not ferociously google on how to make to help with period pain and bloating.)

the man fusses. there's nothing one can do about it. he grew up being taken care of by Eren and Mikasa, and this is how he learnt to show love and appreciation. it's in his nature. he can't help it. he just tries to not overdo it.

you may catch on. you may not. regardless, he never asks outwardly how you're holding up with your period. he just asks how you're feeling, hoping you will tell him if you need anything. one day, you admit your period is killing you, and THIS he has been waiting for, because it means he can (hopefully) fuss over you OUTRIGHT!

so of course he does. he asks if he can do anything, he suggests this and that. he asks if they're difficult (which he knows they are, but he can't be a weirdo that says this outright, right?), and of course you say yes. and finally, mercifully, he asks to help you with it, from time to time. it's real touching. nevermind the fact that this man has been helping you this whole time already. this man could be pulling mastermind moves to become a politician, make his country better. instead he's using his brain to clandestinely help his friend with their periods. classic Armin.

Roommate!Armin turned boyfriend!Armin with a partner with painful periods:

obviously, eventually, you fall in love. how can you not? he cares for you so, and he does it so abashedly that you can't help but develop feelings for this gentle man.

and somehow his fussing transforms. where it may have been careful and nervous, now it is calm and omnipresent.

he does not hide his care from you. he fusses, and fusses, and he may apologise for it from time to time, but he smiles so brightly when you tell him that it's welcome. he wants to care for you so deeply. he can't think of a more earnest way to show his love for you.

and boy, does he show it. he makes you tea and ensures you eat. he reminds you to take medication. he talks you into resting each time, even if it, sometimes, takes a while to do. he hates to see you in pain, he absolutely abhors it, and his hands hurt at his sides if he does nothing to help you deal with it.

he talks you into laying in bed, leaving your chores to him for those days when there's a lot of pain. "just for today," he coos, planning, ahead of time, how he'd get it all done first, in the case that you'd refuse to agree. he makes sure you don't strain yourself with homework, if it is possible for that day. "i'll help you finish it later," he says each time, even if the two of you are from different programmes altogether. how different could it be, he thinks. you do the same for him when he is sick, anyways.

and how gently he comes to soothe you. he sits at the edge of the bed, hands threading through your hair. he rubs your back until you still, waiting out the worst flashes with you. he can't help it. he really can't. he can't sit still when he knows you are in pain. he needs to be close to you, to touch you in some sort of way - to remind you that he's here. or he holds you, lying by your side, your frame feeling so small to him in his hold in those moments.

he knows it is a lot sometimes. he knows he can be overbearing. he tries not to be - or he tried to. until he saw how much it helped you. until he saw you cry, not from the pain but from being helped, from being looked after in the way that he wants to look after you. until you told him outright what it means to you, until you told him that, when given the chance, you'll take care of him just like that, too. then he stopped holding back, or feeling suffocating for it. he saw that he was needed, and wanted, and so he just leaned into it - into the part of him that is desperate to take care of the people he loves.

<3 loml fr

dividers by cafekitsune

#armin fluff #armin x reader #armin x you #armin headcanons #armin fanfiction #armin arlert #armin aot #aot x reader #aot fluff #attack on titan x reader #aot headcanons #armin arlert x reader #my writing

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malice-ov-mercy · 4 months

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All I Want for Christmas

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Will Ramos x fem!Reader x Noah Sebastian

Content Warnings: 18+!, smut, threesome, use of sex toy (butt plug), oral (female receiving), fingering, double penetration, unprotected sex (vaginal and anal),

This was a request:

Anon: Could I request some Will x female reader x Noah smut with double penetration? I’m not picky about the rest. I love your work and trust that whatever you write will be great! If this is not something you feel comfortable with I totally understand! Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N: I have never written anything like this in my entire life, so please keep that in mind. I tried my absolute best. I feel like every time I get the urge to write for this little idea of mine, someone requests something. It’s only happened twice, but like… maybe it’s time I like.. ACTUALLY sit down and and write for it. Idk. It’s scary!!! Tho it doesn’t share the same title, it is a part of the All Bark series. ANYWAY. Hope you enjoy it anon!!! ALSO, I RUSHED to get this done by Christmas so it’s still rough and basically unedited, so if it’s a lil wonky and jumbled and messy at times, Im sorry!!!also, the way I was thinking abt writing something like this and then immediately getting this as a request the next day is wild

Word Count: 4.8k

Tag list: @circle-with-me @xxrainstorm @foliosriot @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @reader13000 @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @concretenoah @witchyweeb34 @agravemisstake @an-insane-day @lyschko666 @calisto-thoughts @emzandthevoid

If you would like to be added, please let me know for who! If you tell me everyone/everything, just know that includes anything I may write for Bad Omens AND/OR Will Ramos.

————————————

Noah Masterlist

Will Masterlist

————————————

Will and Noah were lounging comfortably together on the sofa when I nervously stepped into the living room. Will’s arm was draped across the back of the couch. Noah was leaning into his side mindlessly scrolling away on his phone.

“Can I talk to you both really quick?” I asked quietly.

They glanced up at me briefly then shared a look of concern between themselves. Noah locked his phone and tossed it aside. Will reached for the remote while Noah leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. His gaze found mine, worry simmering deep in his almost black, boba-esque eyes.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Will spoke, lowering the TV volume.

I smiled shyly at the pet name. Worry also settled itself in Will’s enchantingly warm brown eyes, but curiosity also presented itself.

“So, I know I said I didn't want anything really special for Christmas,” I started. Panic flashed on their faces, making me chuckle. “Relax, I’m not changing my mind at the last minute.”

My hands and fingers fidgeted nervously as I looked at them. Their gazes bore into me, waiting anxiously for whatever I was about to tell them. I thought about what and how I want to bring this up, but now that the conversation was on the cusp of happening, I froze. Shyness and maybe a hint of embarrassment started creeping through my body.

“Uhm,” I croaked.

Will and Noah’s brows raised, still waiting patiently for me to find my voice. The weight of their stares began to set heavily on my chest. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed and lost all my mustered up courage.

“You know, nevermind.”

The words tumbled from my mouth as I quickly turned to leave.

“Hey, no. Come here.” Noah’s firm yet gentle tone stopped me in my tracks.

I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes. With a deep breath, I turned around and walked slowly towards Will and Noah. They scooted away from each other and made room for me to sit between them. Will flipped the TV off then ran his hand up and down my back. Noah placed a hand on my thigh and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“It’s fine if you’ve changed your mind,” Will spoke first. “You can tell us.” He pressed a kiss to my temple.

Being sandwiched between them only made the anxious gurgling in my stomach worse. Restlessly, I picked at my fingers and cuticles. A tattooed hand from each of them clasped around my fidgeting hands.

Noah bumped his shoulder against mine. “What is it you want for Christmas, baby?”

“It’s something for all three of us.”

Not looking at them proved to be easier for me as I started to explain.

—————

WILL’S POV

Noah wanted to order it online to avoid the crazed holiday crowds, but I insisted on getting it in store. I was worried it wouldn’t arrive on time. Plus, I didn’t want the surprise to get ruined if it happened to come while both he and I were out. This wasn’t necessarily part of her Christmas present, but we thought it would be a nice gesture.

“Are you sure it’s gonna fit?” I questioned.

Noah scoffed. “I’m sure, but I’ll keep the receipt just in case.”

“It just looks… Small.”

“You’ve been with her for so long. How do you not know any of her sizes?”

I shrugged. “I get lucky with my guesses. Plus, it never lasts past the one night. I’ve ripped every piece to shreds.”

“Well don’t fucking ruin this one.” Noah said, handing me the receipt, “It was fucking expensive.”

My eyes bulged out of my head when I saw the price.

—————

CHRISTMAS EVE

“This is from both of us.”

Noah kissed my forehead and handed me a simple red and green bag. Matching expectant and shy smiles were on Will and Noah’s faces. I looked at them and then the gift.

“We thought about waiting ‘til tomorrow, but now seemed better.” Will draped an arm around Noah’s shoulder.

Carefully, I picked up the bag and set it in my lap. Festive tissue paper stuck out of the top. I removed the paper and took a peek inside. A sizable black box was inside along with two other smaller ones wrapped in gold and red paper. Noah’s lips curled into a smirk when I opened the larger box and gasped.

“Are you kidding me?!”

Nestled neatly inside was a dark emerald green matching lace bra and panty. The brand tag was still attached and I nearly died. It was from the store I constantly talked Noah and Will’s ear off about. I’d been wanting something from that store for ages, but could never justify spending that kind of money.

I stared at them incredulously. “How much did this cost you?!”

“Enough that I may actually have to kill Will if he so much as tears a single thread.” Noah shot a warning glare at him, who only snickered.

“I’m a simple man.” Will shrugged. “I see a hot girl in lingerie and I lose my mind a little.”

Noah jabbed him with his elbow which made me giggle.

“The other gifts are more for what you actually asked for.”

Heat spread over my body and across my face. The jovial and light air shifted. Will sensed my hesitation and spoke softly.

“If you don’t want one of them, that’s fine. We thought it would help, so...” His voice trailed off.

They watched with bated breath as I carefully tore open the wrapping paper. One of the gifts was lube. Practical. A sleek, discreet black box was hidden under the other wrapping. I chanced a glance at Will and Noah, both of them giving me small smiles.

With slightly shaky hands, I opened the box. The warmth in my face intensified. Three different sizes of steel butt plugs awaited, each one adorned with a heart-shaped, emerald green gem. The metal was cool against my fingers. Nervous excitement stirred in my blood. My mind ran wild with erotic images. I bit my lip to keep my grin from breaking my face.

“Do you like them?” Will’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned my attention to Will and Noah. Noah’s face held no expression but his eyes were laced with anticipation. Will wore his emotion in his face, an equal amount of anticipation and a sprinkle of worry in his expression. It was touching that they were so concerned.

“I like them a lot!” I beamed.

Their shoulders relaxed.

“I’m just…” I looked back at the intimate gifts. “I have a lot of ideas swimming in my head.”

Mischief and intent flickered in Noah’s eyes. “Well, we can get a start on that tomorrow then.”

He walked towards me, Will close on his heels, and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. Will covered Noah’s kiss with his own.

“I expect you to wear that set all day tomorrow.” Will husked.

—————

CHRISTMAS DAY

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, admiring myself and the expensive lingerie the boys gifted me. The color looked incredible against my skin. I’d worn it all day like Will asked. Neither of them could keep their hands to themselves, even going as far to push the other away to touch me anywhere they could. Will managed to rip one of my favorite holiday sweaters trying to get a look at the lingerie underneath. They were like starved beasts and I was the helpless little doe.

Downstairs, I could hear Will screaming demonically along to Christmas tunes with Noah joining him periodically. Getting them to leave me alone while I prepared was almost impossible. They were so eager and willing to help. I felt a tinge of guilt for banning them to the living room, but I needed a moment to myself.

I fluffed out my hair and turned around. Bending down slightly, ran a hand over my ass cheek and spread them, just enough to see the heart-shaped emerald gem. It was an odd sensation, but intensely pleasurable. The coolness of the steel as I carefully inserted the plug rippled through my entire being. My skin felt hyper charged and electric.

“All I want for Christmas is YOU!” Will belted, his goblin-like vocals accompanied by Noah’s joyful laughter.

With a final look in the mirror and a quick deep breath, I grabbed the lube and made my way out of our shared bedroom. Noah and Will were still screaming and singing along to Christmas songs as I silently walked down the stairs. The tree in the living room illuminated the space. Soft warm white light cast a cozy and comfortable aura.

Noah stopped mid word when his eyes landed on me. A tiny and sheepish smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. Will shot up off the couch, his eyes fixed just as intensely on me. Noah stepped behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. He pressed a soft kiss to Will’s neck then propped his chin on his shoulder.

Neither of them wore a shirt or pants, only donning the matching holiday briefs I gifted them earlier this month, and Will wearing a Santa that I didn’t even know we had. I let myself happily and hungrily drink in the sight of their heavily tattooed bodies. They looked heavenly.

Their gazes were saturated in desire as I continued my descent down the stairs, closing the remaining distance between us. A blend of excitement and nerves bubbled in my gut. Will and Noah’s eyes roamed my body from head to toe, memorizing every detail of my skin and already heightened breath, studying every little movement and twitch I made, like predators stalking their prey—except I was more than willing to let myself be devoured.

“You look pretty.” Noah said, his voice low and calm.

I offered a smile as thanks and handed him the bottle of lube. He pressed another kiss to Will’s neck as he grabbed it, letting Will slip from his hold.

Will said nothing. He continued to stare at me, a carnal desire burning deep and fiercely in his eyes. I shifted, nervous and eager under his gaze. If I was a betting woman, I’d bet his mind was running wild with dirty and erotic thoughts.

“Will?” My words were shaky and barely above a whisper.

He stayed lost in his daydream until I reached for his hand. He blinked a few times, breaking himself out of his trance then smiled brightly.

“Hi.”

I chuckled softly. “Hi.”

Will reached for his Santa hat and removed it, placing it on my head. He dipped his head down and placed a chaste kiss on my lips.

“It looks better on you.” Noah smirked.

He laughed fondly at Will’s pout. Noah patted Will’s arm and gestured for him to sit. Will interlocked our fingers and guided me to his spot on the couch. Noah set the bottle on the end table then stepped behind me. His hands started massaging my neck and shoulders. I groaned, the knots and stiffness in my muscles melting away at his tender yet purposeful movements.

“You’re so tense,” he said, breath warm in my ear, “We need you relaxed, baby.”

Noah pressed a phantom kiss below my ear lobe. My eyes fluttered shut as he continued to work out the kinks. He snuck his fingers under the straps of my bra and slowly slipped them off my shoulders. His lips teasingly ghosted along my neck, never giving me the satisfaction of his full mouth against my skin. His breath and soft touches blazed a searing path of goosebumps and heat everywhere on my body.

Will slid off the couch and kneeled before me. He ran his softly calloused hands up my legs, following the trail they made with his lips. A quiet gasp fluttered past my tongue and I leaned back into Noah. He kissed my neck lightly, eliciting another sound from me. Will’s thumbs rubbed small, delicate circles in my thighs and eased my legs apart. He slipped his hands under the waistband of my thong, and slowly peeled it away.

Taking Will’s lead, Noah unclasped my bra with practiced expertise, using only one hand while the other resumed its exploration of my body. He carefully helped me remove it and softly tossed it somewhere behind us. Will blessed my thighs with hot, open mouthed kisses, making sure each one was sufficiently spoiled. I looked down at him through my lashes. His love drunk eyes were already locked on to me, soaking in the sight of Noah sensually caressing my figure.

Will dug his fingers into my hips. He softly and audibly kissed my outer lips, merely taunting me and making me squirm in Noah’s hold. Noah pressed his body against mine, his hard cock rutting against my ass. One of his hands slithered up my chest and rested gently on my exposed throat. The other split its time, tenderly fondling each of my breasts as Will latched his mouth on my dripping pussy, loudly and ravenously enjoying his appetizer.

The moan that left my lungs was desperate and low.

“How’s she taste, Will?” The edge in Noah’s voice sent a shiver down deep to my bones. “How wet is she?”

Noah’s hand left my breasts and slid it down to my ass, roughly grabbing a handful. Will’s response was only a delighted hum that rippled through my body. His tongue flicked meticulously at my clit, moving in just the right way to make my legs go weak. I clung to Noah for stability.

“Oh, she’s extra sensitive tonight.” Noah rasped.

His hand slotted between my cheeks, using his wrist to help spread them slightly. I sucked in a sharp breath as he touched the plug still in my ass.

“I can’t wait for that to be my cock buried in you.”

Both my pussy and asshole throbbed. Noah closed his mouth on the crook of my neck, sucking soft kisses across my shoulder. His hands wandered my skin freely once more, his touch gentle and warm.

Will inserted a finger in my pussy. He wasted no time, immediately curling in search of the sensitive, spongy spot. It took a few deep, hard thrusts before he successfully found it and got the response he wanted. Noah pushed his cock against me again.

I choked a high pitched whine, a familiar elation building inside me. I didn’t know how intense my orgasm would be, but it promised to be electric.

Another finger slid inside me, edging me closer and closer to release.

Noah scraped his teeth along my nape. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

All I could do was nod. Will quickened his fingers and tongue, lapping and pumping relentlessly. Noah found his way back to my breasts and squeezed them, running his thumbs over my perked, hard nipples. He pinched and twisted the buds delicately, groaning into my neck each time I arched back and grinded against him.

“Be a good girl and cum for Will.”

I wanted to be good for Noah. I wanted to be good for Will. The edge was right there. I was on the cusp of my orgasm.

My eyes screwed shut, a white haze and speckled faux galaxies expanded and melded behind my lids. Noah embraced me closer as my body started to shudder. My hands searched for something to grasp. Each of them found Will and Noah’s head and gripped their hair tightly.

With sputtering breaths, I came on Will’s mouth and fingers. My mind was void of anything else except the overwhelming pleasure washing over me. Noah cradled me as my climax shook my body, whispering soft words about how good I was for listening. Will’s tongue coaxed me along, hungrily licking everything up, not leaving a drop behind.

I relaxed in Noah’s arms with a heavy, satisfied sigh as Will detached from me, all the tenseness in my muscles long forgotten. Noah stroked his hands down and up my arms.

I glanced down at Will.

From nose to chin was covered and glistening in my arousal. His eyes shone brightly in the soft warm white glow of the Christmas tree. One of my favorite things in the entire universe is how awestruck and lovingly Will looks at me after giving me oral. It’s like the entire world’s joy and happiness is contained in his rich brown eyes.

Will stood, his knees popping and cracking, and cupped my face. His thumbs stroked the tops of my cheeks.

“Good?” He asked.

“Good.” I smiled. Will mirrored it.

He softly pressed his lips to mine, kissing me sweetly and tenderly, pulling all the air from lungs. Noah’s hands traveled to my stomach. He pressed his fingertips into my skin, gently kneading and massaging the softness there. I gasped as his hand dipped between my thighs and spread my folds. His fingers mindlessly played in my arousal and lingering saliva, no rhyme or reason to his motions.

Will trailed kisses up my neck until he found Noah’s lips. Noah moaned deeply, enjoying the taste of me on Will's tongue. I was sandwiched completely between them, their bodies warm on my chest and back. I could do nothing but be overwhelmed in their body heat as their kiss turned sloppy and desperate, their teeth clacking together. Noah let go of me and gripped Will’s face with force. It’s as if they momentarily forgot about me, focusing only on each other, getting lost in the moment and the mashing of their tongues and lips.

My strained whimper and constricted squirming broke them out of their spell. Noah and Will broke apart and panted breathlessly into their mouths.

Noah pulled away first, the warmth of his body replaced with the cool air of the living room. He tugged his briefs down, his hard cock springing free. Will followed suit and kicked the discarded fabric away. He laid back on the couch, spreading his legs wide. The sight of him sprawled out, cock leaking precum and his lustful, lascivious gaze made me throb and clench. He held a hand out for me and I grabbed it happily, lacing our fingers together.

Will helped me crawl on top of him, but stopped me from sitting on his waiting erection.

“Just a second, love.” Will kissed my hand. “Noah, toss me the lube.”

He caught the bottle with ease and flipped it open. Will squirted a decent amount in his fingers then tossed the bottle back to Noah. I watched Will slowly jerk himself, slicking his up his dick. His head fell back as he gingerly ran his fingers over the head, smearing his precum all around. Will then reached for me, brushing his slick fingers over my clit and wiping the remaining lube down my slit. I shuddered as he teasingly slid a finger inside.

“Baby, you’re absolutely soaked.” Will said, removing his finger.

I grabbed Will’s cock and he closed his hand over mine. I straddled his lap, positioning myself so I could align him with my entrance. Will helped, then I lowered, his cock inserting with ease. His fingers dug in my hips. My walls throbbed around him. The sensation of my pussy and ass being filled made my head spin.

Will’s eyes fell shut and his head dropped back, a deep groan erupting from his chest. “You feel so good, oh my god.”

I wriggled my hips, relishing in the sound of Will’s tiny whines. Noah placed his large hands on my ass and squeezed my cheeks. He bent over, chest laying flush on my back.

“As much as I’d love to watch you ride, I’m aching to get inside you.” Noah nipped my shoulder.

“Could you stay still for me so I can take this out,” he reached for the heart-shaped gem between my cheeks, “And put my cock there instead?”

I stilled my movements as he lightly tugged on the plug. An electric jolt shot through me, my pussy and ass clenched. Will muttered a quiet curse under his breath. Noah hummed. I fixed my eyes on Will. His jaw was set firmly. He wanted to move just as badly as I did.

Behind me, I heard Noah open the bottle then felt a trickle of wetness sliding down my crack. I shivered as he carefully and slowly pulled the plug from my hole. My hands landed on Will’s chest with a loud smack as I adjusted to the emptiness. A quiver spread throughout my entire body, gasping breathless breaths struggled to leave my lungs. My pussy and hole throbbed again. Will sunk his nails into my flesh and thrusted hips a few times, unable to control himself.

“Fuck, you need to hurry the fuck up Noah,” Will strained, “I’m losing my mind just laying here.”

Noah chuckled, taking his place behind me. “She needs time to adjust, Will.”

I felt him press the head of his slicked up cock to my equally slicked hole. My breath hitched in anticipation.

“If you’re uncomfortable at any point, say ‘red’.” Noah kissed between my shoulders. “Don’t push yourself, okay baby?”

I kept my eyes locked on Will and nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna ease in, alright? Just stay focused on Will and breathe.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

Noah pushed the tip of his dick to my hole, inching inside with some resistance. My whimper prompted him to halt until I gave him a small nod to continue. He mumbled swears to himself as he slowly eased deeper, making sure to give me time to adjust to his size. My body trembled softly as Noah bottomed out, his entire cock buried balls deep. He planted his hand on my hips and gripped them firmly. Both Will and Noah let out simultaneous moans as I clenched around them.

A new type of pleasure and euphoria coursed through my blood. It was dizzying and mind numbing being so full of them both at the same time. Not a single thought could be found in my brain.

“Good, baby?” One of them asked. The voice sounded far away.

“So good.” I croaked. “So, so, so, so good.”

Desperately, I wiggled between them, needing more from each of them, a festering desire and unbridled arousal blazed across every millimeter of my skin. My body was weak and useless. I couldn’t move the way I wanted and it frustrated me, which only added fuel to my fire. All I could do was lay there and be leisurely fucked. Their worry about my comfort was so sweet and touching, but I wasn’t fragile. I needed to be broken in half.

“Please,” I shamelessly begged. “I need more. Fuck me.”

Will’s hold on my waist turned bruising. “Are you—“

“Yes.” I didn’t even give him time to ask. I know what I needed and wanted.

Will looked past me to Noah. I couldn’t see Noah’s face, but the change in Will’s expression was telling.

“You heard her, Will,” Noah wrapped my hair around his fist and pulled. “The Christmas slut wants to be fucked.”

A primal cry ripped from my throat as Noah rammed my ass with force. Will snapped his hips with just as much power and force, further stealing my voice. The only sounds escaping me were erotic moans and slick, wet slapping of skin and dick fucking into me deep, hard, and thorough.

To my lewd heart’s desire, I’d been rendered to a living fuck doll.

It felt as if Will and Noah were in a silent competition with one another, each of them pounding into my holes at different speeds and force, seeing who could pull the loudest noise from me. Ferality rolled off them in waves, smothering me and beautifully poisoning the air I breathed. Their own moans and grunting drowned out the long forgotten Christmas music. There would no doubt be bruising on my waist from Will’s death grasp, and Noah’s teeth may need to be surgically removed from my shoulder.

Noah hiked a leg up on the couch, the shift allowing him to somehow sink even further in my ass. His grunting and breathing deepened. My loins stirred again, a sensation springing to life, letting me know I was nearing ecstasy once more.

“Noah. Will.” My voice was barely audible amongst all the pornographic sounds surrounding us.

I pressed myself more to Will, desperate for more friction at my clit. I couldn’t easily reach between our bodies, so my only option was to try my damnedest to grind against Will. In a last ditch effort, I attempted to circle my hips, a blissful, loud moan leaving my throat as I found the perfect way to move to take what I needed.

“What a mess you are, love.” Will rasped. “Can you make that slutty noise again for me?”

I worked my hips quicker. Tingling tension buzzed beneath my skin and seeped into my muscles and joints. The heaven I craved was so close I could taste it, feel it on the tip of my tongue.

“Will asked you a question.” Noah said, landing a harsh smack on my ass.

The sharp, stinging sensation tipped me closer to the edge. He repeated the action. Another shameful noise tumbled out of my chest. I was right there, I just needed one more push, something to cut the thread barely holding me together.

Noah let go of my hair and gripped my hip, his hold like a vice. His voice was strained as he spoke.

“Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside. Please.”

“Fuck. Take it, take it, take it. Fucking take it.”

His thrusts stuttered and grew sloppy. He yanked my hips close then stilled with a low, whiny grunt. I felt his cock pulse and throb, filling my ass with thick ropes of semen. I shuddered, delighted with the strange yet immensely pleasurable sensation. It was just what I needed.

The same blend of euphoria and elation from earlier barreled through every fiber of my being. A choked, almost inhuman moan escaped from deep within me. The world around me faded. I lost control of my body as it trembled and shook with blissful, earth shattering intensity.

“Oh fucking… fuck!”

A string of colorful swears fell from Will’s mouth as he came hard with one final snap of his hips, thrusting staggeredly and pumping my cunt full of his own semen. He sloppily fucked me through the rest of my orgasm, turning what bones and thoughts I had left to mush and gelatin. I felt absolutely filled to the brim with cum.

Softly, I collapsed on top of Will. My body was spent. I couldn’t move a single muscle. All of us were heaps of heavy breathing and worn out piles of people.

Noah rubbed his hands up and down my back while Will stroked his over my hair.

“You okay?” Noah asked.

“Perfect. Tired.” I replied.

He chuckled. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

Noah slowly and cautiously pulled out of me. I sighed, immediately missing the feel of him. Will wrapped his arms around me, shifting so he could also pull out and lay back fully on the couch. His fingers threaded in my hair and massaged my scalp. I melted into his embrace.

“You did so good, my love.” He softly kissed my forehead.

Sleep started to tug my eyelids and settle in my joints. Will quietly hummed along to the Christmas music still going in the background. He traced a lazy finger up and down my spine, pulling me closer and closer to slumber.

Noah returned some time later with a washcloth.

“Can you flip over for me please?”

With a defiant groan, I reluctantly turned over. Will draped his arms over my stomach and kissed my cheek. Noah sat on the couch and spread my legs, eyes darkening just a touch at the sight of the mess we made.

The warmth of the washcloth made me sigh contentedly.

“I also ran us a bath.” Noah kissed me softly then Will. “Think you can walk, or should I carry you?”

“Carry me.”

He smiled fondly and stood, slipping an arm under my legs and under my back, scooping me up bridal style with ease. Will hoisted himself up and slipped an arm low around Noah’s back.

“Your gym time is paying off.” I teased.

Noah scoffed. “Yeah, yeah.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and cradled my face into his shoulder. His skin was warm. The steady rhythm of his heart thudded in his chest. I let my eyes flutter shut, exhaustion once again setting in my body. I would feel everything tomorrow, but it was a small price to pay. A nice hot bath sounded wonderful, a perfect end to the perfect Christmas.

#will ramos x noah sebastian #will ramos x reader #noah sebastian x reader #will ramos fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #will ramos x reader x noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #lorna shore fanfiction #will ramos fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #will ramos fic #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #lorna shore fanfic #lorna shore fic

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w1ldthoughts · 6 months

Text

Roads Less Traveled

A/n: I am working on some anon requests but I figured we could use a little fluffy pick me up after the loss yesterday.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s a 13 hour drive.”

You laugh, watching him put your bags in the trunk. “Yes I’m aware. You’ve only mentioned it 100 times.”

He takes his hat off, running his hands through his hair and firmly placing the Nike cap back on his head. “I just want to make sure you know what we’re about to get into.”

“I’ve made it through watching your finger explode on national television and now I get to meet your family during bye week. This is the longest time we’ve ever spent together consecutively so I’m excited and totally ready for this.”

Your boyfriend opens the car door for you with a knowing look, “you just want my mom to pull out the photo albums don’t you?”

“The only baby Justin pictures I’ve seen are from the Chargers TikTok babe, it’s not nearly enough. You were so adorable.”

“Were? As in past tense? Ouch.” He pressed a hand against his chest, biting back a smile.

“I mean you can still be adorable if you wanna be. Personally I was leaning more towards extremely handsome, maybe even…sexy?”

His face is turning more red by the minute and you can’t help yourself from digging a deeper hole, pinching his cheek as he jokingly whines for you to stop. “My handsome, gorgeous, adorable man. Come here.” You lean over the console and he closes the distance between you, immediately smiling into the kiss. He outwardly hated compliments but sometimes you swore you could hear his heart sing when you praised him in any way, especially his looks. It not-so-secretly made him feel giddy inside.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He whispers, pulling away from the kiss and starting the car. “Okay let’s go over who you’re going to meet. This is the big test.”

One of his hands finds itself resting on your thigh, leaving you to peek at the splint on his middle finger on the hand that was still on the steering wheel. Sometimes you wondered how much it must hurt after every game, the constant physical contact with so many weeks in the season to go and your boyfriend’s determination was only growing by the minute. He had no plans of slowing down.

Bringing yourself back into the present moment, you wracked your brain trying to remember all the names.“There’s obviously your family, your mom and dad. Patrick and Mitch. Then your friends Tate, Charlie and Jack, who will be at Charlie’s football game.”

“That was perfect, you’re definitely ready for them. I do apologize in advance though if my parents are overwhelming. Haven’t exactly brought anyone home in a while, well since high school really. And now they’re convinced I made you up and I’m on my way to dying alone.” His smile reaches his ears, exposing a dimple.

The fact that he was bringing you was a big deal already but to know that he’d only really done this a couple times made you feel special. Even if he didn’t really say it, he was falling for you just as much as you were falling for him.

Justin pulls you out of your thoughts when he asks “are you hungry at all? Because I’m thinking about stopping somewhere. I’m starving.”

“Oh yeah, lunch sounds good, I think I saw a Wingstop sign towards this next exit but I can look it up.”

You opted to sit in the car and eat, talking about what you wanted to do and see in Eugene.

“I want the works. Walk me down memory lane and definitely take me to Nike. Feels illegal not to go to a Nike store where it all started. I’m sure you’re looking to add to your endless collection anyway.”

He gives you a pointed look. “It was an endless collection until I met and started dating a thief. Do you know how many of my sweatshirts I found in your closet this morning helping you pack? I was looking for the purple one for weeks.”

That one makes you cackle as you force him to switch you spots so he can get a driving break. “Well I’m sorry! It’s not my fault your clothes are so big and comfortable. And anytime you’re gone I just throw one on and it’s like you’re always with me.”

“Nice save…Catwoman.”

You scoff. “I prefer Robin Hood actually, you know take from the rich and give to the poor. You’re rich so I take from you and give it to myself, the poor.”

“That would work better if I didn’t get most of that stuff for free but that is a pretty solid comparison.” He chuckles softly, nodding his head along to the song. “I didn’t know you were an 80s rock fan.”

“I didn’t either but you played this a few weeks ago while we were making dinner and I’ve been listening to it ever since. You know…I won’t tell anyone if you sing.”

Justin immediately starts shaking his head, “no shot. You’re not doing this to me.” He groans as you turn up the music, singing along to lyrics as he looks on, seemingly unamused.

To your surprise he matches your volume at the chorus, both of you screaming out the words to Pour a Little Sugar on Me by Def Leppard.

“What happens on the road trip stays on the road trip,” he makes you pinky swear.

A few hours later he motions for you to take the next exit, claiming he wants to show you something. It was the perfect time to watch the sunset with a view of Mt. Shasta in the distance. His non-injured hand held yours, walking out to see it while also stretching your legs.

“This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen.”

He turned to you with a warm smile, taking it all in. “Yeah...me too.”

You smacked him on the arm without turning to meet his gaze, already feeling his eyes burning holes in the side of your head. “Justin focus. You’re not even looking at the scenery right now.”

“Sorry I just got really distracted by the view right in front of me, it’s kind of become my favorite.” He wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You were still getting used to the “beard” he’d been sporting.

Turning around in his arms, you finally look up at him, the sight still taking your breath away. “You’re my favorite view too. Wouldn’t mind waking up to you for a while. The rest of my life even.” The last part comes out as a whisper you hope he didn’t catch.

But he did.

“Really? You—you see us doing this, like getting married and spending our lives together?” His lips crunch into a half smile and you want to kiss him senseless.

“Yeah, I do. Which is funny because I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with.”

“Neither have I.” He holds your face in his hands, bringing your lips together softly, the kiss left his entire body buzzing. “Until now.”

#justin herbert #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert fluff #nfl imagine #Justin Herbert fanfic

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neteyamssyulang · 2 months

Text

† Scandalous consequences †

† Chapter 3 †

† For this story the humans use a shot to breath pandora air †

† Pairing: Aonung aged up x Fem human reader †

† Summary: Your life was peaceful the last 4 months of your pregnancy, the birth of your children was celebrated with your friends who snuck off to see you. Unfortunately you also had two uninvited visitors.

† Warnings: Angst, Reader worried about Neteyam, Mentions of birth, Aonung being an asshole, Meyäi is a psycho.

† Total word count: 1,938 †

† Translation(s): Ikran -> Banshee, Mawey -> Calm, Ma’Ite -> My daughter, Sa’nok -> Mother, Hì'i tawtute -> Little human.

† Taglist: @papichulo120627 @livvieboo719 @xylianasblog @hannaxtakami @ikeyniofthetayrangi @Nattomat, @theyoungeagle @blushhpeachh @Celinad22 @ohshititsfenharel @ky44 @chershire23 @teyamshuman

The last four months of your pregnancy were spent peaceful on the island, occasionally Tsireya or Neteyam would stop by to bring you new clothes, food and also things for your baby.

Whenever Neteyam visited though, you couldn't help but feel guilty from what happened that night.

"Teyam, are you sure your ok?" You asked softly tracing the scar along his chest. Sighing, Neteyam nodded "I am fine y/n, do not worry about me."

It wasn't a subject Neteyam liked to bring up but you were worried, the only thing he told you was that after Tsireya took you, Aonung tackled him to the ground slashing him with his dagger.

You were happy he was alive yes but Neteyam looked so drained, what more had Aonung really done to him?..

The day continued on with Neteyam weaving some gifts for your baby, while you set up an area of the cave for the child.

When it came time for him to leave, you bid your goodbyes watching as he took off on his ikran back to awa'atlu.

Hopefully this would be enough for your child, you thought as you layed down on the cot Lo'ak made you, giving yourself the shot so you could breath again, you slowly began to drift off into a deep sleep.

Pain, that's all you felt when your eyes fluttered open, scorching pain from the top of your stomach down to between your legs. Your contractions had started.

Tears streamed down your face as you had an overwhelming sense to push, with your vision clouded by your tears you failed to notice the familiar figure of Neytiri rushing over towards you.

"Mawey ma'ite mawey.." her voice soothing as she carefully moved you onto your back,"I-it hurts!" You hiccuped. Neytiri frowned, her left hand moving to wipe your tears away.

The woman knew all to well the experience of childbirth, having 3 children herself "Breath y/n" she spoke softly.

You did your best to follow her instructions, breath in, breath out, push, and repeat. A bloodcurdling scream left your lips as another contraction happened.

Neytiri did her best to help you through the process while also trying to keep you conscious, It was only when you wanted to give up that a tiny cry sounded throughout the cave, followed by one more.

A smile crept up your lips as you looked at your children, cradled in the woman's arms. "It's twins!" she smiled, her tail swishing behind her. Moving closer she set both babies now wrapped in a cloth in each of your arms.

They were so beautiful, one twin a boy and one a girl. The boy looked a lot like Aonung whereas the girl resembled more of you, as much as you hated Aonung, you were grateful he gave you two precious little babies.

"What will you name them child?" Neytiri asked, her gaze drifting from you to the little bundles in your arms.

Thinking for a moment you spoke "How about Ira'na and Kai'su?" Kai'su was a name Neteyam mentioned to you, it meant ‘strong and brave’. Ira'na was one Kiri thought of, the name means 'light of my life' but it also has another variant 'Ira'nadi' which means 'light that guides my life.'

Neytiri nodded "Beautiful names Ma'Ite, even with Aonung not around, I know you will be a great sa'nok. We will also help in anyway we can"

The hours pass on with Neytiri helping you with the twins, as much as you wanted your friends to come and see the newborns, you knew it would be risky and couldn't risk Aonung hurting anyone again.

Everything was just so messed up, if you would have known Aonung was a lying, no good, two-face, cheating ass son of a bitch, you would have never even touched the man. Sorry, boy.

Once it became close to eclipse, you give Neytiri the ok to call Jake and the rest through the coms, by now everyone should be turning in for the night and Aonung is probably too busy with that whore to notice anything.

Carefully, the sullys along with Tsireya and Rotxo snuck out the village, then started making their way to the island, unfortunately a certain someone was out during that time and saw them.

The swim was long on ilu, Tsireya should know. By ikran it would've taken less time but also catch the attention of the scouts who patrolled the village.

Eventually they made it, disconnecting from the ilu then headed towards the cave you were staying in. Upon reaching it, everyone gasped, sure they knew you were having a baby but two babies?? It's never been heard of.

Jake knew though, how could he not? He grew up on earth where twins, triplets, and even quadruplets are possible to have. But no one expected a human and a na'vi to have twin babies.

Nevertheless, they celebrated the arrival of your babies, promising that with the next visit they'd bring gifts for them and of course for you as well.

Lo'ak and spider had Kai'su, claiming they'd be the favorite uncles whereas Kiri and Tsireya had little Ira'na. Rotxo and Neteyam stayed with you, mainly because the babies were being hogged by their siblings and also because they missed you.

Neytiri and Jake managed to cook up some egg stuffed mushroom with the resources on the island since they couldn't bring anything unfortunately. It was nice and soft and oh so delicious, apparently it was also Neteyam's favorite growing up.

Sitting back against the cave wall near the entrance, you watched as everyone was having fun when a voice cleared from beside you "What's wrong y/n? you do not seem happy" Neteyam frowned sitting down next to you.

"I am fine Teyam" you spoke, forcing a smile onto your face. Neteyam tsked while leaning closer "Do not lie to me y/n, what is wrong?"

Sighing you shrugged "I just, is it wrong that I feel bad about keeping the children away fr-" "Do not feel bad for that asshole y/n, he made his choice. Think of your children, do you want that kind of role model around them?"

Before you could speak, a chuckle came from the bushes to the side of you both."That's a bit hurtful Neteyam, I am a great role model."

Aonung emerged from the darkness with Meyäi by his side, she looked into the cave, her face having a look of disgust as she set her sights on your babies.

A growl rumbled through Aonung once he saw them "So, this is where you have been hiding from me. And now you plan to keep my own children away from me?","You don't even want them Aonung, leave y/n and her children alone" Neteyam hissed standing up.

You stood up but instead of staying behind him you walked up to Aonung,"They are my children, not yours, mine. And yes I do plan to keep them away from you!"

Aonung scoffed "I do not claim those demon blooded children, the only thing they are good for is serving me and Meyäi"

Meyäi giggled "Oh like what the humans call servents, can we use lashes on them when they disobey??"

That was the last straw, you jumped on Meyäi tackling her to the ground "No one is going to hurt my children!" Next thing Meyäi knew, she had a broken nose, a busted lip, and a black eye.

Neteyam was surpised, a small human like you managing to take down a na'vi. Aonung was furious though, he tore you off Meyäi, tossing you into the wall and helped her up.

Neteyam rushed to your side, picking you up then headed into the cave "We need to go, Now. Aonung and Meyä are here!"

Everyone hurried frantically to try and get up, Rotxo and Tsireya held onto the babies, making their way to the ilu's when Aonung lunged at them.

"Give me the little brats!" he commanded at his siblings who shook their heads,"These are innocent children brother, your children, if you would only just accept them."

Rotxo nodded "Our sister is right Aonung, these children are gifts from eywa. Please do not do this to them."

Aonung laughed "You think I will accept these half breeds? Me and Meyäi would make far more beautiful children, ones without demon blood."

That just make your blood boil "They are beautiful!, it does not matter if they have demon blood or not. Now kids with Meyäi would sure be a jump scare."

Neteyam was quick to move out the way before Meyäi could lunge at you, her fangs showing off as she hissed. While Aonung and Meyäi were distracted with you, Tsireya and Rotxo along with everyone else tried to make their getaway but not before getting surrounded in the water by a few guards.

Aonung stepped closer, ignoring Neteyam's warning hiss "I will always find you hì'i tawtute, no matter where you go, your children will be coming with me now." As he was speaking, Meyäi snuck away, rummaging quietly through your belongings till she found the needle you used to breath Pandoran air. Slipping it into a pouch tied to her loincloth, she snuck back to her original spot by Aonung.

With a smile, she and Aonung turned around, walking back to where Aonung's tsurak was in the water before getting on and making their way back towards the village along with your children and friends.

You broke down immediately, sobbing into Neteyam's chest. He wanted nothing more than to take your pain away, give it to himself instead so you could be happy once more.

Walking to a nearby tree, he sat down leaning back against it so he could properly hold you. His large arms wrapped around your smaller frame as he whispered in your ear "Shh, it's ok y/n. We'll get them back, I promise."

Sniffling you leaned back slightly with his hold on you loosening "How Teyam? Him and that slut won't just give me back my children."

Neteyam sighed, placing his left hand on your cheek "We'll find a way, don't worry. I'm sure Tsireya and Rotxo are trying to reason with him as we speak."

You nodded and layed your head back against his chest "They don't deserve this.. only just been born a few hours ago.."

He gently rubbed your back, while his tail wrapped around your thigh as a way of comforting you. "None of you deserve this."

"For the last time sister, give me the child!" Aonung snarled at Tsireya. He had already managed to get the girl from Rotxo who Meyäi was currently holding.

Tsireya hissed, keeping little Kai'su close to her "You will not take him!" With the snap of his fingers, Aonung had two warriors hold Tsireya while he walked up, yanking the child from her arms.

His face softened for a second, seeing this small miniature version of him. But grimaced once he remembered they have demon blood running through them.

Aonung had the warriors take Tsireya to a small hut, located at the edge of the village. The sullys and Rotxo were currently tied up inside it with two guards stationed outside.

Meyäi walked up to him smiling "Ma'nung, look at what else we got" with one hand she opened the pouch tied to her loincloth, and pulled out the needle making Aonung's eyes widen."That's the needle y/n uses to breath our air isn't it?"

Meyäi nodded "Of course it is, without it she'll die and we can finally be together."

#neteyamssyulang #james cameron avatar #avatar the way of water #aonung x human reader #aonung smut #scandalous consequences 💎#comments really appreciated #please like and reblog #followmypage

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