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#he DOES agree. he understands what shes saying and he agrees that it's the best decision to take a breather before they jump into a romance
formosusiniquis · 23 hours
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for @thefreakandthehair and inspired by this. Everyone enjoy some bee keeper!Eddie saving the day so Steve can play some baseball
Eddie picked up beekeeping the way he picked up most things in his life: accidentally and by virtue of following a crumb of serotonin straight down the rabbit hole of obsession. It isn't what he expected to do for a living, and at this point he does have to admit that when it accounted for 91% of his taxable income last year it is what he does for a living, but he likes that he gets to work outside and set his own hours. He likes that the regular customers he has who buy his honey are nice, and likes getting to advise people about things like flavor profiles and what they taste best with, it was the thing he liked best about his position at the dispensary that was now more of a side gig. And then there's his contract with city animal control that gets him called out to parts of the city he didn't even know existed to relocate hives a lot more often than he thought would happen.
It's a good life, and he likes that he's made it himself.
But it's the kind of life that gets him calls from people late at night when trying to finish binging Fallout before the internet can spoil it for him. He has a rule to always answer when Chrissy calls though, he isn't going to miss helping her if it's an emergency.
“I need a favor,” she says before he's even finished answering.
“Anything for you,” he agrees.
“You might regret saying that.”
Chrissy Cunningham turned a full ride scholarship for cheerleading into a business and marketing degree and she turned that into a fancy job with the White Sox that he didn’t fully understand but totally supported. He wore the free cap she gave him, and was endlessly glad that as a white guy he didn’t get gatekept the way girls like Chrissy did, since he couldn’t name a single player on the team.
And it was that endless support that had him in his full gear at the White Sox stadium with his smoker and bee vac.
Chrissy meets him at the front with a harried expression and a warm hug, “I’d say I owe you one but if everything goes right we’ll be totally square before the first inning.”
“What does that mean?” he asks, repeating it louder when all she gives him is an enigmatic smile. 
The only answer he truly gets is being shoved into a little green cart that she drives with a frightening speed. She drives them through the stadium through a route he has no hope of remembering on his own until they reach an opening that leads straight out to the field. Eddie always had a dream, as a kid, of being a rockstar, driving out onto the diamond to a sudden and uproarious cheer is the closest he thinks he’s ever come to truly experiencing what it would be like to be famous on stage.
He hams it up of course. Waves his arms to try to get them to cheer louder as Chrissy stears them toward the lifter that he’s going to have to go up to get to the swarm. And they do, the cheers becoming an enthusiastic roar, a sound so loud he thinks he could climb them up to the bees without the lifter. 
“Focus will you, you’re on national television right now.” Chrissy says, with a subtle elbow to his side.
“Yeah but how many people are watching a delayed baseball game?”
Never one to just take his smartass comments, he’s sure that Chrissy says something super witty and sarcastic back. Only Eddie made the mistake of turning his head and catching sight of the most glorious ass in the snuggest pair of pinstriped white baseball pants and lost the ability to hear. A second elbow in his side reminds his brain full of metaphorical bees that he’s on television and he doesn’t have his veil on, he isn’t about to get caught drooling on television.
The fattest ass in the stadium turns around and Eddie thinks he’s been stung. He has to be going into anaphylaxis with the way he suddenly can’t catch his breath. The guy in front of him, with a hand on his hip and his eyes trained unwaveringly on Eddie is tongue-swellingly hot. And he just keeps getting closer as Chrissy doesn’t stop driving forward.
“Steve, you’re not supposed to get this close, you're our starting pitcher you can’t get stung.” Chrissy chides.
“I just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to kill the bees.” The guy, Steve, says.
“He’s not.”
“I’m not,” Eddie says, shaking his head as fast as he can, like that will make things more convincing for the hot baseball guy. But he’s got an eyebrow raised giving Eddie an up and down like he still doesn’t believe him.
“Look,” he pulls out his equipment so Steve can see. “I’ll smoke them with this, that’ll make them calm so they don’t freak out when I vacuum them up with this.”
“And running them through a vacuum isn’t going to kill them?”
“It’s a gentle suck,” he says, immediately filled with a burning mortification. “It’s just enough to move them into the tank where I can relocate them.”
Hot baseball Steve has his big brown eyes open even wider, there’s a twitch at his mouth like he’s about to say something else and Eddie actually can’t have that. “Chris can we get me strapped into this thing, we want to get this big ballgame going right?”
Steve takes a couple steps back, hands raised up in a placating gesture. Whether it’s for him or for Chrissy because he didn’t listen, Eddie’s too busy putting a neon yellow safety buckle on to think about it.
He takes his time, this is basically free marketing so he’s not about to rush through or do a half-assed job. But in just a few minutes he has a vac full of bees and the game is ready to be played. The lifter gently lowers Eddie back to the ground with another round of cheers. He unclips from the safety harness and takes a shallow bow for the crowd.
Then Steve is jogging over, Eddie stands up straighter than he ever has in his life. Nervous for what is about to happen.
“You saved the game, man!” Steve has the nicest smile that Eddie has ever seen, wide and toothy. He is but a man and thus falls a little bit in love immediately.
“It was nothing, really, just part of the job, y’know.”
“Well, here’s something you probably haven’t done on the job. You have to throw the first pitch.”
“No, no, I absolutely will not be doing that.”
It’s the wrong thing to say, a mischief lights up in Steve’s eyes. He jerks his chin up at Chrissy who says something Eddie is too far away to hear into a walkie talkie. He thinks he has a guess though when the loudspeaker begins to drawl, “Laaadies and Gentlemen, our game is about to begin. Tonight’s first pitch will be thrown by our bee rescuer, Eddie Munson!”
The crowd begins to scream again, but the sound is almost like the hive's steady drone when Steve leans close enough to whisper, “It’s just ceremonial, all you’ve got to do is throw it. I’ll even play catcher for you.” And Eddie’s helpless to do anything but nod.
There’s actually a lot that has to happen before they’re ready for him to throw his sad attempt at a pitch. But that gives him the time to settle his equipment out of the way and scream at Chrissy. Still it’s sooner than he’d like before she’s shuffling him over to a big mound of dirt in the center of everything. She pushes his hat and veil back and it feels a little proud father of the bride right until she pats him on the top of his head and whispers, “Don’t fuck it up, nerd.”
His palms are sweaty, they feel too slick to get a good grip on the small, white ball. He thinks he might throw up, only across from him Steve is there. A glove on one hand he sends Eddie an encouraging little finger wave with the other. 
He can do this. 
He takes a deep breath and throws.
It’s awful. Too high and a little off center, but Steve snags it in that large, ungloved palm and the crowd cheers again like he’s done something fantastic. He’s starting to think they’re just happy to be here.
He starts to walk off the field, toward Chrissy where he knows he’s safe. But he can’t help noticing that Steve is jogging his way too; the ball that Eddie just threw in one hand, a sharpie in the other, his glove tucked tight under his arm. “Eddie, hey, you gotta take this with you, dude.”
Steve lobs it at him in a soft underhand, and Eddie still fumbles the catch, “Thanks, man, but really, I don’t-” the rest of his response dies in his mouth when he realizes just what Steve has scribbled across the ball.
“Give me a call if you’re interested,” Steve says, walking backward toward the mound Eddie just left, “I can show you my gentle suck.” He laughs at his own shitty pickup line, which is somehow more attractive than his whole hot jock thing.
Eddie thinks he must be blushing up to his hairline by the time he makes it back to Chrissy and his things. She looks too smug for it to be any other way. “Told you we’d be even before the end of the night.”
“Chris, if this goes well I might owe you a favor. Now we gotta go, I’ve got bees to relocate.”
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a-spes · 1 day
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| ALL THE THINGS I AM NOT - One shot (3.097 words).
| Summary - Since Peter Parker joined the team, things aren't the same anymore. Why does everyone seem to prefer him to you? (Inspired by that post from @th3-c0rps3-r0gu3)
| Tags & warnings - soft mom!Natasha Romanoff x adoptive daughter!Reader, former widow!R, angst with a bit of comfort, happy ending, R&Nat are insecure (they're trying their best), self-hatred, mention of past traumas, R is injuried (during a mission), mention of blood&death.
| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
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You wouldn’t say that you hate Peter Parker. 
It is a strong word to describe your feelings, and you don’t like what it implies. You can’t hate someone who hasn’t done anything wrong to you, someone like him. He is the opposite of a bad person, so why I am feeling that way? He is nice. That’s what everyone is saying about him, and you know they are right, even if you don’t like to admit it. He always has that smile when you two are talking, answering you kindly even when you’re trying to test his limits.
It would’ve been easier to not like him if he had any defects, but he doesn’t. You’ve tried to find some, you’ve spent hours observing him, waiting for the moment he would make a fatal mistake, but the moment never came. You even started to question if he was human.
Natasha told you that humans make mistakes all the time, and that you can’t avoid them. It’s normal, she said, that’s what makes you one. You used to think you were better than that, better than everyone, but are you? When you look at the boy, you are not sure anymore.
He is everything I am not. 
You thought you were doing good, really. You made a lot of progress, and effort, since you've joined the team. Two years ago, most of them wouldn't even agree to let you out of your room. Now, you could talk normally to almost all of them.
You thought that you were doing things right with the team, but you slowly realised that your attempts are not enough anymore. You have made a lot of progress since the first time you set foot in the compound, no one will deny it, but you are not at his level yet. 
Two years ago, you wouldn’t even step out of your room during the day, barely sleeping when the night came around, and at best you would exchange wary glances with the team. You didn’t trust them nor they did, and even if you are now talking, it hasn't changed a lot. That’s something they never told you, but their eyes and actions have done it for them. These two never lie, not when you know how to interpret them.
They don’t even let you go on a mission alone, let alone attending the most important meetings. You think it is stupid because you are the most skilled of everyone here. Well, maybe it’s not true, you never managed to beat Natasha in a fight, but you are sure that you are at least as useful as them on the field. 
I am too young, just a kid. 
That’s what they call you, but the nickname doesn’t carry the same kindness as when it’s for Peter, their voices being tinged with disdain. Except when it’s from Natasha, you like it when she calls you nicknames. She doesn’t do it because she thinks you are not capable of handling yourself, but to remind you that you have time. The time to learn, to make mistakes, to grow. You both know that you will never be a normal teenager, it is too late for that, and nothing can erase the first years of your life, but the redhead is confident : you’ll learn how to live, you just need a bit of help. 
She is the only one that doesn’t seem to treat you differently, but you are not sure if she counts. You two are the same. You have been through the same things, and she is the one that brought you here, it is obvious that she wouldn’t let you go. 
She wouldn’t, right?
You don’t know. You are not sure of anything, everything seems to go backward since he joined the team. All the progress you’ve made? Gone. In a few weeks, he did better than you’ll ever be able to do, and you don’t even understand how that’s possible.
You can beat him in a fight whenever you want, no matter the conditions. Even with your eyes closed, and your hands tied behind your back, you would be able to put him down in a matter of seconds. You are fast, strong and attentive while he is clumsy, dreamy and weak. He can’t even use a gun properly, always missing his target when it’s moving, even slowly. Whenever you are looking at him, all you can see is a kid that has no idea what he's doing here but thought it would be fun. A kid that was given a toy, and thought that it made him the most important person on that earth, a hero.
I am everything he is not. 
Yet, they prefer him, so there must be something you are missing. Since he joined the team, he has created a strong bond with all the Avengers, even with Natasha. You thought your relationship with her was special, but it’s apparently not that much. You saw them laughing together, but you’ve seen worse when you witnessed the woman ruffling the boy’s hair. You are sure she would braid the boy’s hair too if it was longer. 
Well, maybe I hate him.
You have every reason to feel this way when he was stealing what’s yours, destroying what you had taken so long to build. Only, it somehow didn’t feel right. Natasha doesn’t belong to you, none of them are. They are humans, and humans have feelings, they don’t have to get along with everyone. That’s what you’ve learned from the redhead, but you only realise now that it is not only true for you ; you can’t force anyone to appreciate you. Yet, you would have liked to live up to their expectations, something the boy seems to do effortlessly.
He is always smiling, saying the right thing at the right moment, laughing with the others. Since he arrived, he has never made anyone angry, he never had one of those violent breakdowns where you would hit someone by accident. Natasha says it is not your fault, but you know that the others don’t think the same way.
Durings meals, apart from their missions, Peter Parker is the only thing they know how to talk about. Everything he does is praised. Even the things you were doing as a kid, things you’ve never been congratulated for because everyone had to know that, it was normal. Natasha said it was not, but you are not sure if you believe her yet because if it’s not, where are your praises? 
Maybe it is because they don’t expect anything from him. He is just a kid who’s learning, not a threat to be dealt with, let alone a weapon to train. No, Peter Parker is none of that. He is nothing more than a stupid kid who’s trying his best to save the city, and it’s a story you can’t bear to hear anymore. Just his name makes you feel as if your whole body is burning. It’s a feeling you can’t name, but you are sure that you don’t like it.
He is everything I am not. 
If you saved him that day, it is definitely not because you appreciate him. You even had a moment of hesitation before throwing yourself between him and that bullet, wouldn’t your life be easier if he wasn’t here? No, it wouldn’t. 
You didn’t want to take that bullet for him, especially not when this is the consequence of his own stupidity, but it was the obvious choice. You hate being sent on a mission with him because it is like going with a baby widow. You have done everything right, he has not, and yet you are the one suffering the consequences of his recklessness. 
If he had died today, it would’ve been your fault. You know it’s not true, but you can already hear them tell you that it is. That’s why you did it, because you know they value his life more than yours. It is not easy to accept that you are not the most important person on the team anymore. In fact, you have never been there since you joined the Avengers, but you believe that it was true before. 
Those people, they have powers and technology. They can do things you will never be able to achieve, no matter how hard you try. You hate that too, that feeling of failure. Yet it is not your fault if you are trapped in a competition that you can’t win. So you thought that, maybe, if you save their precious boy, then you would get the attention you wanted. 
I didn’t want to, but I did what I was supposed to. 
Except it doesn’t feel right. The Quinjet was quiet during the return journey. You didn’t even know where the boy was, and honestly couldn’t care less. You were even relieved to know that he couldn’t witness you in a moment of weakness, leaving you alone to inspect the wound left by the bullet. You told him it was nothing, but you lied, and you don’t even need to take a close look at your abdomen to know that.
However, it wasn’t the pain that was worrying you. The only thing you could think about was their reactions. Natasha told you many times that you are allowed to make mistakes, that it makes you human, not weak, but you know she is lying. You’ve already heard Fury scolding people for their mistakes, even the Avengers sometimes fought for the same reason, and you definitely don’t want to deal with that right now.
So when the Quinjet eventually lands, you go straight to your room. You were scared to step foot in the common areas in this condition because you knew your mom was waiting for you there. Maybe she had made your favourite meal, or maybe she decided to do the boy’s favourite. This time, you can’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes.
You’ve seen how she acts with the boy. She is so caring, always smiling, and her eyes are even shining. You don’t think it has ever happened when she is with you. Her expression is always tinged with sadness, perhaps pity. It is when you witness those moments that you realise that she deserves more than you will ever be able to give her : a normal kid. 
Maybe she realised it too.
Last night, she came home late, called in for a last-minute mission, and she missed your return by a few hours. She had no idea how your mission went, and even if she trusts you to handle yourself, she can’t help but feel concerned. She doesn’t like to know that you’re on a mission without her because anything can happen.
If Natasha was already worried, it is only when the following morning came that the feeling began to gnaw at her from the inside. She even started to bite her nails again. It was almost ten in the morning, and no one had seen you yet. They say that you are probably sleeping, and they might be right, but what if they are not?
She knows that some missions can be exhausting, and not only physically, what if it was one of those? You didn’t seem to be doing well lately. Despite the appearances, she noticed every little change in your behaviour, and she is sad to see you going backwards. She guessed that, maybe, you needed a little space, but she is no longer sure she made the right choice. She has the feeling that your relationship has deteriorated in recent weeks, almost as if you were avoiding her.
The redhead could no longer bear to stare at the hands of the medical bay’s clock, all she wanted to do was go, and check on you, but she couldn’t. She made a promise to the boy’s aunt. She glances at Peter who was asleep, he has been injured during the mission, nothing serious, he should be out of here the following morning. However, she promised her aunt to look after him when she couldn’t. 
She always keeps her promises.
Natasha didn’t bat an eye all night, but even if she had wanted to sleep, she wouldn’t have been able to. She couldn’t stop thinking. When the day came, she still had no idea what to do. Widows aren’t known to be good at expressing their feelings. The woman always felt awkward in her interactions with you, scared that her actions could do more harm than good. Maybe you weren’t the one that needed a bit of space. 
“How is she?” is the first thing the boy asked when he woke up that morning, but the frown on the Avenger’s face let him know that she had no idea what he was talking about. “We got a bit of a … situation during the mission” he explained, avoiding saying that his recklessness put them in danger, “we both got hurt, but it is nothing too serious”, he quickly added when he saw the expression on the redhead face changing suddenly.
The boy tried to reassure her, but it was too late. The woman barely heard him as she was rushing out of the medical bay. She was an idiot. She should’ve checked on you the moment she stepped foot on the compound, she should’ve guessed that you wouldn’t go to the medical bay on your own. You’ve always hated those places because it is where you are the most vulnerable.
It was almost eleven when she knocked at your door. She did it three times, but each of them was met with an oppressive silence. When she tried to open it, she discovered that it was locked. However, there isn’t a door in that world that can stop a widow. In less than a minute, she manages to open it, and enters the room.
She understands something is wrong when she sees your form under the covers. You would never stay in bed that late, being awake before she is most of the time. If at first she was hesitant to step in, she almost ran to your bed when you didn’t reply to her calling your name multiple times. Your sleep is so light that someone walking across the corridor is usually enough to wake you up in a flash.
She pulls back the covers without thinking twice about it, and the view she sees is definitely not what she would call “nothing serious”. The sheets are covered in blood, your blood, and you are not sleeping at all, she can see how you are struggling to keep your eyes open. She is not even sure you noticed her presence.
"Baby?" she tried to call again, but you didn’t react to the nickname either. "Baby, what happened? Talk to me, please, open your eyes", she said, kneeling by your side.
She shakes you slowly, but it has no effect. You don’t react before her hands grip your face, her nails leaving marks on your skin because of the brutality of her precipitous gesture. She is trying to open your eyelids to see your eyes when a whine escapes your lips.
You have no idea what’s happening, but don’t have the energy to ask the question. You just wish the woman would let you go back to your comfortable slumber, far from the pain, and that world of misery you were trapped in. But she doesn’t. Instead, she stole your blanket, leaving you shivering with cold, and she wouldn’t stop talking, worsening your headache.
When she takes you in her arms, being as careful as she could, she notices how cold you were. Yet, you seemed to be sweaty. She doesn’t waste more time, almost running back to the medical bay. You were hanging in her arms as a rag doll would, your head dangling painfully on the side, and the same was true for your limbs.
She held you firmly in her arms, constantly glaring at you, as if she feared you might disappear if she let her guard down. On the way, she kept mumbling things that you couldn’t understand, not knowing if those were really intended for you, or if it was a way to reassure herself. Maybe it was both.
When the woman pushed the medical bay door, she didn’t even need to yell for someone to come. The second the doctors saw you, they knew it was an emergency. 
It is only a few days after that they let you out of the medicine that was keeping you out. The first thing you felt was the pain you tried to ignore since you've been shot. A whine escapes your lips. You felt your mom close to you before you saw her. She probably didn't sleep or left or eat since you've been, no matter for how long it have been. You feel a bit guilty at the thought.
“Don’t you dare to do that ever again,” she whispered, holding you as close as she could against her chest. One of her hands rested on your back, gripping the soft fabric of your hospital gown, while the other one was stroking your hair, “you scared me to death …” she added, and you felt really stupid for not realising that she had always cared for you, and probably always with, but you were too blinded by jealousy to see it. 
“I am… sorry,” you managed to reply in a hoarse voice, “I was scared. I wanted to show you that I can be strong too,” you whispered, “I wanted to prove that I’m worth loving,” you eventually admitted, your voice being so low that, at first, the redhead wasn’t sure if she heard correctly. It broke her heart to realise that it was her fault. You didn’t need space, you needed her by your side, and now she was here, you wouldn’t let her go, holding her as you could, not minding the pain it caused in your abdomen. 
"But my little dove, you are already the strongest person I know, you don't need to prove it anymore to anyone,” she whispered, “and I will always love you, I won’t let you doubt it,” she added, letting you go to cup your jaws with her hands. She let her thumbs brushing your forehead before she kissed it, repeating the three words you were dying to hear the past weeks again, and again, and again.
You could both feel tears running down your cheeks.
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| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Tag list - @godhatesgoodgirls
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rayshippouuchiha · 2 days
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Ray, for the Tsunarara AU, how does Tsuna tell Nana that he wants to be a housewife? How does she react? Does this bring them closer?
Given the circumstances, Tsuna doesn't actually say anything at first.
Instead, he starts watching Nana's every move, shadowing and mimicking her when and where he can. From suddenly being in the kitchen when she's making meals to draggin out the stool in the bathroom when she does her nightly routine so he can try and copy her.
It takes her a while to really notice but when she does her reaction is still hurtful to Tsuna for all that she's not really mean.
"Tsu-kun," Nana says as she stares down at Tsuna where he's attempting to file his nails into the same elegant ovals she wears hers in, "what are you doing?"
"Wanna be like you," Tsuna manages to mutter, still unsure of how to express the full scope of his desire. Unsure if she'll understand or agree or even care.
"Like Mama?" Nana asks.
"Want to," Tsuna pauses, clears his throat, darts a look up at her and then back down to his hands, "want to be good like you are. Pretty and soft and g-good at home stuff."
There's a pause.
"My useless little Tsu-kun," Nana smiles, soft and sweet. "Goodnes knows you'll need it one day I suppose, especially going the way you are. Well, I guess Mama will teach you all she can so try your best okay?"
And Nana does take to actively teaching him everything she can and while it does draw them closer together overall, well, Tsuna never really forgets that the only reason why she's doing it is because she also agrees that he's got nothing else going for him.
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luhafraser · 7 hours
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"I think Sam handles pressure better than Caitríona... As she said years ago about him being a calm center.: - Sam showed that when criticized, he's a woos. She never wrote a 3 page BS like he has, complaining how poorly he feels and including the mental affliction as excuse to make sure nobody would criticize him again. Cait is no push over and doesn't need Sam to "protect" her. He should fix his own problems as they didn't change since we've became aware of him in S1.
Anon...
Maybe your problem is assuming that Sam and Cait can't be similar (although even your dear Cait said that) and not admitting how they both support each other in all these (bad) moments.
I didn't say that Sam was exemplary, but the fact is he deals with "all this shit" better than she does... Okay, Hawaiigate 2.0 wasn't his best moment, but there's no way he could have come out of it well without resorting to the role of victim. And Cait supported him and his behavior in that moment. 😜
But Cait crossed the line, gave unnecessary answers in interviews and on social media over the years... Statements that did nothing to contribute to the image of the excellent actress that she is, and encouraged people to speculate much more about her personal life. Cait did nothing to benefit herself or her family. She let her sisters and mother get involved in this circus, until it culminated in the interview fiasco with her father.
Unlike Sam, Cait has the shield of her "perfect marriage" with Tony, so why would she need to be afraid of what the "small vocal group" thinks and says about her??? To the point that she mentioned, during an Oscar campaign for Vanity Fair magazine, something silly like a comparison of bedsheets?! 🤦🏻‍♀️
Okay, I've already made fun of Tony and I think that sometimes people cross the line, but Cait herself is the one who encourages this when she publicly treats her husband so coldly. She only seems to be an interested wife (and that on a few occasions) when the camera is in their faces.
If my husband were as uncomfortable as Tony is, I would be the first person to tell him not to go to these events with me.
Supporting someone you love is not being on their side out of obligation, to merely give a good impression as a couple... Support is understanding, accepting what the other person is and respecting that. Obviously, Tony didn't want to be at several of these events over the years... And the worst part? Cait ignored him and often appeared with that unhappy face next to him. And there are people applauding this. 🤦🏻‍♀️
I'm a mother and something I can't agree with is the talk of the happy family justifying that they had a son together. A child should never have this responsibility, be the reason to say that a couple is happy. This is not right and it is not reality.
And who are you in Sam and Cait's lives to say that Cait doesn't need Sam's protection, or that he has to solve his problems alone?!? Are you at least one of her or his family? We don't really know anything about these two actors and we're just here speculating and guessing based on the little they show us publicly. We're in the same boat, Anon. 😉
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starshideurfics · 12 hours
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Thirsty Thursday - Mer-May
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steddie, omegaverse, mdni🔞, inspired by Emma’s (crybabyao3 on twt) mersteve and pearls
Eddie didn’t believe the kids at first when they said they found a mermaid. Especially after Dustin explained that he didn’t have a tail.
“He said he got it taken away by a sea witch. That she’s helping him find his alpha.”
“And just where is this tailless mermaid anyway?” Eddie asks, arms crossed over his chest.
“We’re hiding him at Hopper’s beach house for now,” Lucas starts.
“Yeah, he’s not exactly dressed for us to bring him out in public,” Max adds with a smirk.
Eddie shakes his head, rubs at his eyes. “Please tell me you don’t have a naked omega sitting in Hopper’s place. He’s gonna freak.”
“That’s why you need to come with us, get him out of there. You’ve gotta bring him to your place,” Dustin says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Eddie wants to argue, but instead he grabs the keys for his van. “Fine. But I need to meet the guys in an hour, Joyce got us a gig down at the Surf Shack.” It’s a big step up from the high school beach parties they usually play, since they’re getting paid in more than shitty beer and enough money for gas.
“Thank you, let’s move!” Mike yells, grabbing Dustin to lead the group out to the parking lot.
The kids yell the whole way, recounting how the found Steve—the mermaid’s name is Steve  for chrissakes—wandering the beach, completely unsteady on his feet. Max thought he was drunk, but El was worried he was hurt, so they asked him what was wrong and he spilled everything.
He probably found the best group of 12-year-olds possible, since they believed him.
Reaching Hopper’s beach house, Eddie cuts the engine, doesn’t bother waiting for the kids as he heads inside; they catch up almost instantly anyway.
“Steve! We’re back!” Dustin yells as he walks through the side door behind El, since she’s the one with a key.
“We brought our friend Eddie, he’s got his own place so you won’t need to hide there,” Max adds, right on Dustin’s heels.
Eddie is prepared for nudity as he hears awkward shuffling from down the hall. But that’s not what he gets.
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Steve walks into the kitchen covered in pearls. The bits of fabric they’re attached to fit perfectly around his torso, but have been tied to cover his bottom a bit haphazardly.
The pearls must be worth a fortune, what with the size and color, but all of Eddie’s focus is drawn by the man’s beautiful face, flecked with moles, his eyes the rich brown-green of sea kelp.
More importantly, his face lights up with his smile. “Thank you! I don’t want to be any trouble, but I’m so grateful for your help!” At first, his smile is just for the kids. But then he looks up, and his eyes go soft.
When his eyes lock with Eddie’s.
“Hi,” Eddie manages to make his stupid mouth say.
“Hello,” Steve answers, not as dumb, but just as soft. “I’ll be staying with you?”
“Yes!” Dustin answers for him. “Eddie has his own apartment, you’ll be safe there.”
“Okay, shitheads—and El—get on back to whatever you were up to before, I’ll get Steve settled.”
The kids try to protest, but Steve agrees, says he won’t be interesting the rest of the day since he’s tired. It’s true, since he dozes off in the van on the way to Eddie’s. He looks so peaceful it pains Eddie to wake him.
But he does, gently, gets another soft smile as he escorts Steve up to his second-floor apartment.
“I’ve got clothes you can borrow for now, then we can find you something you like. But I’m pretty sure you’d get a citation for indecent exposure if you went out in that again.”
“Oh,” Steve says, sadly looking down at his chest. “I wanted to be wearing it when I found my alpha. My pearls show I am ready to be claimed, that I have my dowry for my mate.”
“Did you harvest them all? That’s a lot of oysters to open, especially for the colors,” Eddie says, unable to hide the awe in his voice.
“No, they’re my pearls,” Steve says, like Eddie should understand more than he does. “Mers lay eggs, and if they aren’t fertilized they become pearls. These are the pearls from my heats.”
Eddie suddenly feels the need to readjust himself. “From your heats,” he repeats softly.
“That’s why they’re for my alpha, to show I’m ready for pups.”
“But your alpha is here, on land?”
“Yes!”
“Then you aren’t going to be laying any more eggs, sweetheart. That’s not how heats work for humans.”
Steve’s hand rests low on his belly, covering the perfect circle of pearls. “I know.”
“And how do you know your alpha is here? You can’t have gotten close enough to scent him.”
“I heard him, playing my heartsong. I hear it every so often, coming from the shore, fast like my heartbeat, like he needs to scream to the world. Like he’s calling for me.”
That really piques Eddie’s interest. “He’s playing on the beach? Is he alone?”
“Not always, but I can still pick him out, that’s how heartsongs work.”
Eddie’s mouth feels too dry, and he swallows hard. “Can you hum any of it? Maybe I’ve heard it before, can help you find him faster.”
Steve smiles, hums a melody Eddie knows all too well. One he based on the songs his mother would sing him when he was little. Without a word, Eddie reaches for his acoustic guitar, easily taking over the melody from Steve, playing on as the omega falls quiet.
When Eddie stops, he looks up to see Steve’s big eyes, tears on his cheeks. “It’s you,” he whispers, reverent as he steps closer, far more sure on his new legs now.
“I guess it is.” Eddie puts down the guitar and pulls Steve close, finally scenting at his neck and feeling like there are new colors in his world as he smells waterlilies and coconut and fresh salt air.
Steve leans in first, kissing his mouth, awkwardly guiding Eddie’s hands to tease at his nipples through the gaps in the pearls. Then he grips Eddie’s hips, pulls their groins together and moans at the feeling of his alpha’s cock pressing against his new, human pussy.
“Alpha, please!” he groans. “Want to feel you.”
Eddie obliges, pulls at the ties over Steve’s ass, lets the fabric fall from between his legs, and carefully traces his fingers along his seam, already wet with slick. 
He doesn’t have time to knot Steve. Not if he wants to make it to the gig. So instead, he guides Steve to sit on the couch, Eddie kneeling between his thighs, using his mouth to make his omega come.
————
Steve accompanies Eddie to the gig that night. He’s wearing his clothes: a black band tee and ripped jeans that cover a bite high on his thigh.
Eddie has a single, blue-grey pearl added to the chain around his throat.
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seramilla · 3 days
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Emily joining charlie and vaggie happened mostly by accident, they just loved being around each other and before they knew it, they were kissing each other and planning dates for the three of them
Initially, after she and Sera fell, Emily felt like she'd lost all her purpose in life. Everything she'd ever known about Heaven had been wrong -- they didn't actually care about her, or Sera, and had replaced both of them easily. She's happy to have a family now, with Carmilla and her girls. She's exceedingly grateful for them, for giving her and Sera a home. However, getting accustomed to life in Hell has been...difficult, to say the very least. She tries to enjoy every minute spent with her family, and she does...but sometimes, Emily still wants more. It's like she's chasing something invisible, just out of her reach.
Her only other friends outside the house are Charlie and Vaggie, so Emily starts spending more and more time at the Hotel, interested in how Charlie's redemption program is going. The Hotel's been rebuilt, much to her shock and delight. And while the redemption program has officially started, it's been slow-going. The new High Seraphim that replaced Sera is just as staunchly against redeeming Sinners as Adam had been. Even though Heaven has proof it's possible, thanks to Sir Pentious, they still think he was a fluke, and a one-off. Charlie tells her, they're still fighting Heaven on every front, but they're not giving up. For Sir Pentious' sake.
Emily realizes she can help them; as someone who'd previously been on the inside, she knows each and every angel on that council. She could give them intel! Charlie and Vaggie don't want to inconvenience her at first; she hadn't fallen that long ago, Charlie says, and she must still be reeling from all the changes in her life. Emily says she's done standing by, doing nothing, and if they'd just let her help them, she promises she can be of use. Reluctantly, Charlie agrees, but only if Emily promises to take care of herself, too.
From then on, Emliy shows up to the Hazbin Hotel bright and early, every day, like it's her job. Eventually it becomes like one, and the more time she spends with Charlie and Vaggie -- inviting new souls into the facility, watching them try their best to succeed at redemption, even if they're a little skeptical at first -- the more she starts to view the two women as part of her extended family. And maybe, if she's being honest with herself, a little bit more than that...she's always been a little jealous at the relationship they have together. She wishes someday she could find that for herself; but the more time they spend together, and the more they let her in to their private lives, the more she wishes it could be with them. It's them that she wants. Not just any other denizen of Hell.
How much of an idiot is she to think that could ever work? Emily asks herself.
It starts to weigh on Emily's heart, and being the empath that she is, Charlie's the first to bring a voice to it. She tells Emily she knows something is going on. If something is bothering her, she assures Emily she can always talk to them about it. For a while, Emily denies it, and goes on as if nothing is wrong...until over the course of several days, she finally breaks mentally. She longs to tell them her feelings, and so she does, full of emotion, and wracked with guilt over making them worry. Even if nothing ever comes from it, or they turn her down...at least she can get it out in the open, and lift the weight of it off her chest.
Charlie and Vaggie are...surprisingly understanding about it. They admit they've grown fond of Emily, and care about her very much. Love her, even. They've basically done everything together, the three of them, for months now; Emily's already become an intimate part of their lives. They hadn't really thought about what it would mean to add a third to their relationship...but Emily is so honest, so devout in her feelings, about how much they mean to her now...Charlie has to admit she feels the same. Vaggie does, too, but the guilt of Heaven is still acting on her psyche, even all these years later. It might take her a little longer to understand what she's feeling, too, and process it all...but she's willing to try it. For Charlie, and for Emily's sake.
They'll wait a while to make it official, but for now, it's enough to be in each other's presence. They still have a lot of work to do on the Hotel. And in the meantime, Emily still spends time with them every day. Getting used to her feelings for them -- exploring kissing, touching, all the little intimacies of their new dynamic -- and where they fit into this crazy new life of hers in Hell. She's sure Charlie and Vaggie will help her figure it out. Her family, the ones she loves, her new world keeps expanding... Emily starts to think, maybe it's not so bad here in Hell, after all. Maybe this is where she's meant to be.
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Hi I wanted to request yandere platonic inner circle from ACOTAR x gender neutral reader who is the sister/brother of the archeron sisters who was also thrown in the cauldron and turned it fea but smiler to Nesta he/she also got powers like having the ability to rewrite reality like Wanda from Marvel and you could also make one of the inner circle a romantic yandere mate to reader maybe Azriel if you want or any other. I hope it’s not to specific loved your cassian headcanons. 🫂😍❤️
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YANDERE PLATONIC INNER CIRCLE X GENDER NEUTRAL READER
YANDERE AZRIEL X READER
🌌you were the sibling of the archon sisters and it was tough to be in there shadow. Especially in making friends your power some what scared people .it didn’t help how protective your sisters were especially elain.
🌌everyone treated you with respect and kindness however you were lonely only ever having your sisters who would fight over who got to spend time with you. Even though there mates became jealous how much time they spent around you they didn’t care because you were there sibling there family.
🌌freyer usually showed you all her paintings befor anyone else and most of them had you in them.
🌌nesta preferred to gossip with you about how annoying everyone is .
🌌elain liked it when you helped her with the garden.
🌌they all had a neutral understanding that you were perfect . When they became mates they encouraged there other half’s to get to know you .
🌌rhysand was the first to come around and agree with his mate that you were the perfect little sister. In away you reminded him of his sister so he became increasingly worried about your safety. That’s why the servants spoke only few words to you.
🌌cassian was reluctant in getting to know you . He was a jealous man to say the least he worshipped the ground nesta walked on and all she did was seek your comfort. He understood that you are her younger sibling but he still hates how much time she spent with you. When he got too know you better (which took 6 months) he realised how extraordinary you were and became devoted to your safety.
🌌mor instantly became friends with you once you came to live under the mountain. She enjoyed telling you secrets of others even though she promised those people she wouldn’t tell a soul . That’s how important you are to her.
🌌azriel was heartbroken after elain found out lucien was her mate and not him. He became depressed and felt his self esteem become lesser then it already was .
🌌but then you showed up , you were shaking like a leaf when you arrived. Clearly traumatised but slowly ever so slowly you came out of your shell . Often spending your nights talking with him under the stars.
🌌when the news goes to the inner circle you and azriel are spending more and more time together. They encourage it they know they can’t keep you from falling in love with somebody so azriel is the perfect solution. He would protect you for life . They knew that. Everyone knew that.
🌌so he became obsessed and devoted completely to you .
🌌he does random acts of service . You hungry? Don’t worry azriel will get you food ! You tired ? Azriel has you in his arms flying you to you bed.
🌌if anyone and I mean ANYONE threatens you he won’t hesitate to kill them . And no one can stop him anyway . After all the inner circle came to an agreement that azriel was perfect for you .
🌌if you try to escape your being dragged back and locked in your room for weeks until you are on your knees begging to be let out for a few minutes.
🌌overall try and stay away from them ALL they believe they have the best intentions for you but in reality it’s a toxic smothering that you can’t escape .
🌌azriel is an delusional and emotionally unstable yandere
Thank you so much for this request ❤️❤️
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nightylantern · 2 days
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Sanemi Shinazugawa is not the nicest person and he never will be.
Yeah I think the dude is cool but I hate him with a passion, this will be really messy but I will edit it later and if you disagree with what I am saying i under zero circumstances am trying to fight or target you, manga spoilers below:
I hate this man so badly, and it’s worse as an eldest sibling. To yall who said that Sanemi did everything to “protect” Genya are we seriously going to forget the part where he tried to blind him beyond recovery? “Oh b-but, he knew Tanjiro was gonna save him, b-because he knew he was there,” he gave no time and could care less about Tanjiro, his hatred for demons and his brother took over his senses and he was willing to destroy him for the sake of protection. “But that’s because he doesn’t want Genya to die,” yall Genya has made it clear not just to us but to Sanemi that he solely joined so they could be brothers again, ALL SANEMI HAD TO DO WAS TALK TO HIM AND HE WOULD LEAVE, that’s stupidity and cruelty at its finest ladies and gentleman. On top of that blinding him beyond recovery will only make the situation worse, Genya will most likely be traumatized after that no? To have your big brother whom you loved with all you heart torture you. To all the sane older siblings out there including myself, we may be in situations that we believe that being cold towards our little siblings may be the best choices, as we can be idiots aswell for the sake of protecting them, but I think we can all agree we will NEVER ever go as far as to destroy them beyond recovery. As an eldest sister I would never forgive myself if I ever did that. Don’t you dare come up to me and say this man is “the nicest person ever,” or whatever, he isn’t kind at the least, he gives no empathy to other human beings, and before you hit me with “he suffered so much he has a reason for not willing to be empathetic”, but we see this man not willing to care at ALL with the exceptions of a few people like the Hashira who were there when he joined, sure a person may suffer but they are human, and thus have the ability to acknowledge other people’s suffering. He doesn’t think about others and acts first, like he doesn’t even think why Tomioka may consider himself different and yet jumps to the conclusion that he believe he’s above everyone, when we see Sanemi being so arrogant like in the Rengoku side story, never once does Giyuu ever act cocky, and there are no signs that he believe he’s the better on, that’s not to say I believe Tomioka is also completely innocent because he never expands that he doesn’t see himself above the others, he lets chaos happens, the biggest thing you need to take care of if your working to save the world is clear up misunderstandings so you guys can work and trust each other more efficiently, I’ve seen it happen in so many books and movies. This is also a reason as to why I love Shinobu because she’s able to get to him in a way that isn’t cruel and thus understands him the most (aside from Kagaya) and is able to communicate enough so that she doesn’t get misunderstood by her comrades.
What was my point earlier…? Ah yes, point is Sanemi is not the nicest person and he will never be. I get why he acts the way he acts, I get why he did what he did, but is it justified? NO, there is no denying he neglected his brother and left him alone where he could have been killed, it’s clear he ignored the obvious signs that’s could have saved him, and it’s clear that he took everything to far.
sorry this is rushed I had motivation and was in the middle of class
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lollytea · 7 months
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Huntlow situationship gives me such intense brain termites you don't get it
#no i dont think its because Hunter needs time to heal first#i think if it was up to Hunter they would plunge into a committed romantic relationship immediately after the events of the finale#he would propose to her in like. 3 months probably#i know that sounds intense but i think this is what ''i literally died and came back to life'' mania does to a guy#he is so carpe diem minded hes become a little insane. he wants everything#no more waiting around. no more hesitating. he cant afford to do that anymore#would it have been the wise decision to enter a romantic relationship immediately#who's to say. but Hunter would have done it without thinking about it#its Willow that makes the decision to slow down and wait a while before they make any committments theyre not ready for#i dont think she's entirely learned her lesson about letting herself be emotionally reliant every once in a while#shes made progress but the events of ftf were such heat of the moment responses#once things are semi-stable she still needs to adapt to acknowledging that her feelings for Hunter are like. serious. and scarily intense#so like. yea Willow is slamming her pedals on the breaks for both their sakes. shes thinking about how this would effect Hunter too#but also. she scawwed.#when Willow tells him she wants to talk and she's like ''i think we should just be friends'' oh the face he makes is DEVASTATED#he didnt expect it was going in this direction at all. but like. once Willow explains how this is the most reasonable decision for now#he DOES agree. he understands what shes saying and he agrees that it's the best decision to take a breather before they jump into a romance#anyway even when theyre not officially dating the flirting continues insistently. they are very obsessed with each other and cant stop#Willow keeps trying to insist to herself that its just messing around. nothing serious. they find each other hot. its fine to kiss a little#but Hunter makes it very hard when he looks at her with big brown labrador eyes. looks at her like shes the entire world#i think if it was up to Willow they would have been trapped in that uncertain limbo forever. shes too scared to take the plunge#even if she wants to. she badly wants to#but Hunter just wont let that happen. every so often he says ''im ready whenever you are''#he makes his intentions very known. he is not the shy boy from Camila's house anymore#Willow cant just playfully flirt with him without worrying that hes gonna reciprocate. he talks now. he expresses himself#shes a little afraid of that. but she adores it too. he makes her feel safe but also he wont let her stay in this comfort zone#hes giving her the push she needs to pursue this relationship. gives her to push to feel like she can go after what she wants#because god knows HE knows what he wants#they make me so insane
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7-oh-ta1 · 1 year
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Thinking abt my Inquitor (Lavellan) & his friendship with Sera is really is what led me to realize why ppl who hate her are usually ppl who love Solas -- and yeah obviously I'm aware that they're opposites but specifically I think people just like what Solas is symbolic of. It's not even that he as a person is fascinating to them its just that they really like the elven lore and that's his whole shtick. Which actually sucks bec Solas as a person, not as a symbol, is interesting. And it also led me to realize that characters like Solas and occasionally Blackwall (who I LOVE btw don't misinterpret) are forgiven for their deceit with little to no repercussions whereas characters like Sera and Vivenne who are completely upfront about who they are and what they want are trashed or at least were for many years until people got bored of them. I'm not exactly sure what I'm trying to say I just feel like there's a correlation. Like maybe they don't like what Vivenne is or Sera is symbolic of so immediately don't try to get to know them any further which is fine they don't have to like everyone, but makes me wonder how many ppl play these games that are crucially character based and just write off any character that doesn't lie to them for intrigue
#lindsay speaks#dragon age#idk i just don't feel like i understand that. sera is a steadfast friend who looks out for the inquistor.#SHE HOOKED MINE UP WITH A CROSSBOW ARM ATTACHMENT. <3#but she's treated so so shittily by the fanbase because they won't even listen to her? btw on many things my inquisitor agreed to disagree#with her which resulted in minimal disapproval and they were still best friends because they both believed the most important thing in each#situation was how to protect people who cannot protect themselves? and saw the virtue in each other#not to mention the things sera says she has every right to say (maybe it's different with low approval?) and she's allowed to have#conflicted feelings about the whole world. she's not a fucking politician selling you her worldview she's your FRIEND#and she's completely upfront & truthful about her boundaries and who she is and what she does. not one lie.#but solas can literally be some 10000000+ year old man with the plan to rip the world apart by force and lied to you not just about the#obvious bigger things like his doomsday plan but even the small things like where he grew up & what his goals are. and he did it with a#smile & he only regrets it enough to say ''I'm sorry but too bad'' AND HARDLY ANYONE SHIT ON HIM?? I actually enjoy his character I'm not#saying i WANTED hate but compared to Sera being treated like a punching bag for years because she doesn't lie to you versus the reception#he got???? it just baffles me. it was so disproportionate and still is !!
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avatarkv · 10 months
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EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (1)
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Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc; 3104)
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Jake knew a saying; held onto it ever since he had resided amongst Na’vi– every person is born twice. While he believed that it meant that the second time is when you earn your place here in Pandora, Eywa had a clever way of broadening the idea. His very children were proof of it.
He thinks it’s the great mother’s way of compensation, perhaps a second chance for him to do better– to do his very best to keep them alive on behalf of those he lost. 
While Kiri was a special case enough, you too were an odd one. 
You are Tsu’tey's daughter. Turns out, he had someone in secret while he trained to become olo’eyktan– when he was supposed to take Neytiri for himself. It was taboo– absolutely wrong to become unfaithful to one’s mate. But following the carnage of the great war, when Tsu’tey had so selflessly sacrificed his life, only then did Tsi’ewa came forward; told everyone of their love and what could have been. She was a simple songstress along Ninat, but it was her round and bulging belly that caught everyone’s attention.
It caused an uproar and understandably so. After all, Neytiri had only announced her rebellion with Jake not long before, but when the people connected the dots themselves and both stories had become one, they understood that their hearts merely yearned for another and no one should have ever dictated otherwise. Arrangements had been made and condolences were exchanged— everyone can only look back and wish that things could have been different.
Jake was supposed to take you under his wing as a way of honoring him– he owed Tsu’tey his life and perhaps an apology as big as so. But after your mother had unfortunately died during your birth, he knew to himself that he had to take you in; not as a responsibility, but as his own blood and flesh. His first daughter.
You were the loudest baby, he recalled. That day, Jake had rocked your body back and forth in his arms frantically, while Mo’at and Neytiri did everything within their power to help Tsì'ewa. Your cries were ear-splitting, enough to wake the whole clan up. 
“Just what do I do with you,” He muttered under his breath, eyebrows knitted in frustration– just where do he hold you? Is he doing it right? Are you hurt? Why are you crying so loud?
“Jake, the baby!” Neytiri’s shout from inside had cut his train of loud thoughts, snapping back to your bawling. He wasn’t doing such a good job. 
“I’m trying, Neytiri– this thing won’t budge.”
Neytiri had emerged from the hut, stomping her way to Jake with a scowl. "That is not a thing, you skxawng!" she exclaimed before gently scooping you up from his arms, cooing softly to you– though it was more like mocking him instead. “Does Jake here make you cry?” She said, patting your thigh soothingly. “He’s not at all pleasant to look at, but you have to get used to it.” 
Almost in an instant, your cries had died down. You babbled along with her, like you were agreeing with her every word. He slowly pulled himself closer to Neytiri, eyes wide with curiosity as he watched your small hands playing with her long braids. “Heh, she has Tsu’tey’s eyes,” He whispers, unable to look away. 
The flap of the hut swinging open was the only thing that got their attention, momentarily away from yours as they looked at Mo’at with anticipation. With a single shake of her head, sorrow surged their hearts, eyes traveling back to your innocent ones. They mourned for you; an unknowing child should never have to carry such grief. They had to make a choice– A responsibility they weren’t expecting to have so early. 
Jake mindlessly trails his finger down your stomach, gently, like you were the most fragile thing. Your little hand wraps around it and it was like you had binded his scattered thoughts into one big understanding. 
Sully. You’re one of them now.
Jake releases a breathless chuckle as he gazes upon his lover and you with a newfound clarity, a perspective so bright it illuminated in his very eyes. Then came an idea– the desire of having children of their own. Perhaps that’s why Neteyam came after only two years. You were quite the ploy; the push they needed to start a family.
You were truly blessed– the genius of your age was undeniable, your remarkable talent soon earning you the admiration of all who had seen it. By the time you turned six, you had already mastered many of the abilities that a hunter would need– your skills with a bow were unrivaled by most of the children your age, let alone those who were much older than you. They'd marvel at your accuracy each time you took aim with an arrow. You could never miss. You had to make sure you didn’t. 
By the age of 12, you had already accompanied Jake in hunts. You had developed a knack for planning, coming up with routes and back-up plans that were often surprisingly effective. You have proved to be helpful plenty of times. You were quick, silent– full of poise. They often wondered if you were an old, seasoned soul trapped inside a little girl’s body. 
But as quickly as the spotlight had shone down on you, it left almost as soon as it had come.
(“What you did today was reckless, y/n.” Jake settles his bow on the table aggressively, emitting a sharp thud. You were just as frustrated, throwing your satchel down the floor of the hut. 
The mission had gone rather wildly, with things not going along the plan. There was another airship– one that no one was aware of. Your instincts jolted your body, immediately throwing an explosive towards it which had it blowing all over the place– its pieces crashing and causing a wildfire. 
Jake argued that there could’ve been a more safer way. One that didn’t have to risk more of our resources and supplies; one that didn’t have to injure the other warriors. Of course you knew to yourself that you did the right thing. You did what you had to do. 
 ‘You could’ve been hurt and got others killed! Just what were you thinking?” He continued to berate you. You jest that if this went on, there’d be steam visible above his already heated head. 
“I had to take a risk– not everything goes to plan and this is proof of it.” You answered back with a scowl, “If I hadn't, there would’ve been more casualties.” 
“That’s not a call for you to answer to! Jesus Christ,” Jake runs his palms down his face, grunting, before looking back at you– expression suddenly tired and soft. “Come on kid, where’s that sweetheart who always listened to what I said?” 
You had scoffed, a hurt forming on the pits of your stomach. “That sweetheart once had a place in plans before.” You said, eyes unwilling to look at him. It weighed in your heart heavily– why did people assume that you were the only one who changed? You didn’t understand. “Pretty sure the Jake before was a good listener too.” 
The wrinkle in between his eyebrows deepened in confusion, but he never was one for confrontation. With a single dismissive grunt, he turns his back against you. “I’m way past your attitude. You’re grounded. Go.”)
As you grew, the resemblance to your father became ever more apparent. Jake started noticing the many similarities between the two of you; the way you walked– how you sauntered confidently through a crowd. Your braids would move along your heavy steps (and perhaps, that’s where Neteyam got his mannerism of swaying his too.), shoulders wide and proud. You even had his signature snarl, something Tsu’tey was known for that unfortunately seemed to have been passed down to you too. 
However, it was more than how you brought yourself. You were strong-willed– stubborn. 
There was another thing about you too. You didn’t call Jake dad anymore. It hurt him– left a heavy feeling on his chest every time you regarded him so distant. It was unfair that you still called Neytiri mom, why did it have to change with him? He didn’t have the heart to address it. Couldn’t ask you what went wrong. 
Because he knows damn well why. 
Lo’ak was enough of a headache, but you were a different kind of royal pain in the ass, more like a personal problem. It was tiresome. Petty. There was not a day that you and Jake wouldn’t argue and bite each other’s ass off– and yet, there was never a day where you two would talk it out. The fights would blur itselves out and before they knew it, things would be back to normal, only for it to fall out again over something small. It was routine. The only thing normal for you both. 
He missed you– missed his baby. Just when did you grow to become so distant? When did he start to overlook you?
You’ll admit, you might have indulged in the folk’s gossip. They always had a story for everything and they have plenty about your father. Tsu’tey was a fit olo’eyktan. He had proved so in his training and determination. Of course it was a low punch in the gut when the throne had been passed to an outsider– a demon, most of all. It was unfair, he knew it wasn’t right. A washed up marine had taken something he had worked for like it was nothing. Like he was nothing. 
You pitied your father and you feared you’d be like him– like nothing. 
And history might just repeat itself. You weren’t clueless– wasn’t blind to the fact that Jake had trained your brother more. He adored him so much that the very moment he was in the right age to train, you were off to fend for yourself; trained all alone while Jake went over the routine with Neteyam like he did with you. You remembered waiting for him every afternoon because he promised that he’d make time– that time was yours and yours only. But as the light bled and neared eclipse and you were too cold to wait outside, you learned never to wait again. 
They would come home soon after– smiles on their faces and a handful of apologies for you. 
Soon enough, your suspicions proved you right as the people started to talk again; Neteyam– the golden child. He would make a good olo’eyktan. 
Perhaps that would explain the drift between you and Neteyam too. Could they blame you for it? You had lost their attention so early– while you still needed them. You weren’t their kid and you were reminded of it everyday. In times when you didn’t know if you had space in the family hammock while they sat together, telling stories under the starry sky. You pretended to have fallen asleep everytime; back against them as you listened. In times where the family was growing and growing, until the small table wasn’t big enough for everyone anymore– or in this case, for you. 
(“Come on, ma’ite, what are you doing so far from here?” Neytiri had called for you when she noticed how distant you were from everyone. You silently scooted beside her, wooden bowl in your lap. “Look, I prepared your favorite.” 
It wasn’t. You hated it. You hated the tangy taste of it so badly. But you had decided to eat what was left on the table after everyone had gotten their meals and there wasn’t usually enough for you. Neytiri thought nothing of that– didn’t think that you eating only scraps and dried fruit was because there wasn’t anything else for you to have. She simply thought that it was your favorite and had been making it for you ever since.
You didn’t have the heart to tell her. Not when she thought she had been doing well with preparing it. You kissed your teeth, smiling tightly as you lifted the food to your lips, eating silently. “Thank you, it’s good.” You muttered under your breath after.) 
But you were family; they said so themselves. When they tucked you in to sleep, when they patted your head. They were still present now, just not in the way you wanted– not in the way you longed for. It seemed like making them angry was the only way you could have their attention– particularly, your dad. You could never make Neytiri mad. She tries to understand you, she does. Explaining now just seems so.. Petty. So childish, you decided to push her away instead. 
What do you tell her? That you only let dad blow a fuse or two was because you missed him? Because you didn’t know what went wrong? 
So there goes your routine. 
“I just don’t understand why I can’t be olo’eykte.” You had brought up again, lips in a familiar snarl. “You tire me and for what? Kiri is already training to be Tsahik– just what would my place in this clan be?” 
“We are not having this conversation again, y/n. Not tonight.”
Jake had just returned from a particularly bad hunt; went home empty-handed and with a patience as thin as a strand of hair. He continued to sharpen his dagger, movements almost aggressive. Everyone immediately went out of his way, not wanting to be on the end of his temper– not you though. You could never get a hint, it seems.
“Yes, tonight! My ceremony is almost near, sir. I have been waiting.”
It wasn’t like he had a reason anyway. Jake couldn’t tell you because he had no reason as to why. Why couldn’t you be olo’eykte? You had all the skills to be one, even more so. But in the back of his mind, a thought so deep and petty that he couldn’t bear to say, tells him that the name he carried was something to gift his eldest son. Olo’eyktan was a privilege reserved for Neteyam. He never thought to have you so early– he always dreamed of having a son first. 
“Wait more.” 
“This is insane– sa’nok!” You had turned to Neytiri, eyes pleading. She quickly grasps your arm and tries to tug you back towards the exit, speaking in a soft but firm voice as she tries to soothe the tension.
“Ma’ite, why don’t we go out for a walk?” She whispers. To be frank, she was tired of this– never of you, no. But at the way things had been. Parents aren’t parents automatically just because they have had children of their own. It’s a skill they have yet to muster– to truly understand. She didn’t know where the line between you and her had blurry along the years. Didn’t know where this constant need of yours to be seen came from. 
You jerked your arm away from her, almost too harshly. It tugged on her heartstrings, not knowing what was going on with you. “I cannot wait anymore.” You said, taking two steps towards Jake with an unreadable anger– an anger he didn’t know when had stemmed from. 
“Is it because I’m not your daughter?” 
His eyes widened. A flash of vulnerability visible in his gaze, momentarily softening his glare. “You stop this right now, y/n.” He had stood up, tucking the dagger back to his loincloth. Jake’s larger frame towered over you, telling you to drop it– to leave the conversation. But you weren’t backing down. 
“I am your eldest–! You trained me earlier than Neteyam, I have been here long enough–”
“You aren’t ready!” He had shouted with the same fierceness, earning a dirty look from Neytiri.
“Why won’t you see me?” Your voice had softened, borderline begging– just a bit, but enough for his ears to flatten in response. He knew that beneath those few simple words lay many layers of underlying meaning; emotions that have yet to be spoken. 
But he turns his back against you dismissively anyway. “Neytiri, get her out of here.” 
Neytiri grabs you by the arms again, although a bit forceful now, but just enough for her to touch you– to have you in between her arms. She embraced you, like she was trying to keep the words from escalating. She feared one of you would say something out of line; something you both would regret. 
But on the brink of the tension– the severity of the situation, you had muttered. Your voice was muffled, but it was clear. The message was oh so crystal. “You took everything from my father.” 
Jake grunts, “Yeah? Well maybe your father wasn’t enough either.” 
“Jake!” Neytiri hisses and although Jake couldn’t see her, he knew very well he was getting quite the conversation with his mate too. 
It was a low blow. Unnecessary. A straight strike to the gut. It was a pain so bitter, you didn’t want it to linger any longer– you were nauseous. You wanted no more than to vomit everything that spiraled out of your stomach. 
“You want to lead so badly and you can’t even control your temper. No clan wants a hot-head for a leader.” But he kept going– relentless and cruel. “You ought to be someone else’s shadow.” 
“But I’m your daughter,” Your tone had softened, almost cracking as the lump in your throat grew. Tears blurred your vision, threatening to escape as Neytiri held you close. 
“And yet you never listen to me— because I’m not exactly your father, yeah?” With one last glance, he stepped out, passing his children who stayed just outside the door, listening. Jake opens his mouth, desperate to ease the tension– the discomfort written in their faces, but he quickly shuts it and continues to walks out. He had said enough for tonight. There was nothing saving his face from this. It was best if he left instead. 
“Oh, ma’ite.” Neytiri rocks her body along yours, drawing soothing circles on your back but the embarrassment settles in your chest– gnawing at your body. You catch a glance of the pitiful looks from your siblings as they try to enter the hut silently. 
How could you make a mess out of yourself in front of them? Why had you let this blown over?
You retracted slowly from your mother’s hold, wiping your tears before running the opposite way from where Jake had gone to. It was better if you left instead.
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mauve here! finally done writing this after racking my head for weeks. wanted it to be relatable (??) as much as possible, idk why. there is just something therapeutic w writing about your past issues <3 but i hope this one's alright!!! really excited to finally post this heheh
lots of kisses!
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moonstruckme · 4 months
Note
perhaps whimsical!reader x one of the marauders (you choose) who’s being made fun of but doesn’t realize it? And they defend you or talk to you or something?
Thanks for requesting <3
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 745 words
Remus watches as your eyes drift out the window beside his couch.
“I think you’d like it,” James continues, unaware that he’s lost your attention as he tells you about the shop he’d gone to with Mary the day before. “They’ve got incense and crystals, all that stuff.” 
When you don’t react, Remus nudges your leg with his. 
You look at him. “Hm?” 
“That does sound like someplace you’d like,” he tries to clue you in, “doesn’t it?” 
“Oh, yes.” You give James a breezy smile. He returns it with ease, not a lick of pique about him. “Thank you, James, I’ll have to go. Where is it?” 
James’ thick eyebrows come together. “You know, I’m not actually sure. Mary led the way there and I just sort of followed, but I want to say it was on fourth.” 
You nod, and Remus smiles at your obvious expertise on the matter. He doubts there’s a shop of that kind that you haven’t been to, but you’re humoring James just to be kind. “Right, there’s a string of them on fourth street. Maybe I can ask Mary sometime and see if—oh, the fawn is standing up!” 
You grab Remus’ hand excitedly, turning in your seat to get a better view out the window. Your eyes are very nearly heart-shaped as you coo over the baby deer wobbling to its feet a few yards from Remus’ home. “Oh my goodness, it’s so precious. Do you guys see it?” 
Remus shoots James an apologetic look, but his friend smiles and shrugs it off, coming to lean over the couch beside you. 
“It is really cute,” he agrees.
Sirius laughs. “You’ve really got yourself a goldfish, haven’t you Moony?” You don’t pay him any mind, but Remus regards him quizzically. “She can’t seem to talk to anyone for more than two seconds before she’s distracted by something shiny.” 
Now, you turn, your head tilting like a puppy’s. “It’s not shiny, Sirius, it’s a fawn. Do you want to come see?” 
“It’s a figure of speech, love.” 
“Pads.” Remus’ voice is hard. “Don’t.” 
Your brows pucker at your boyfriend’s tone. “Remus,” you sound almost hurt, “what’s wrong?” 
He wraps a protective hand around your thigh, but James speaks before he can. 
“It’s nothing,” he says cheerily. His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re always squabbling like this, they’re like an old married couple. Best to do as I do and stay out of it.”
“Oh, please,” Sirius guffaws. “Like you’ve ever stayed out of anything in your life.” 
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” James says. Remus relaxes as the beginnings of a bemused smile touches your lips. “I don’t partake in any such childish quarreling.” 
It’s only after his friends leave and Remus is cleaning up his kitchen from all the snacks they’d left strewn about, that he says quietly, “Don’t mind Sirius, dove. His sense of humor can be mean, but he wouldn’t tease you if he didn’t like you.” 
You pause sweeping up the floor, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean? I thought they were both really nice.” 
“They are,” he says, “but I just want to make sure you understand that when Sirius was making fun of you, he didn’t really mean anything by it.” 
“He was making fun of me?” 
Remus swears he feels his heart fall right out his ass. 
“Yes, sweetheart, but like I said, he was only teasing.” He gives you a small smile, but at your puzzled look, reluctantly clarifies, “You remember when he said you were a goldfish?” 
You nod. 
“That was it, dove. That was the joke.” 
“Oh.” You smile funnily, one side of your mouth quirking up more than the other. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I’d love to be a goldfish.” 
A little laugh startles out of Remus. “Really?” he asks.
You nod happily, resuming your sweeping. “They can see more colors than humans, did you know? And they’re really very pretty.” 
It’s all Remus can do to keep from crossing the kitchen to squish you in a hug. He’s grinning ear-to-ear. “Well,” he says, trying to match your serene tone, “then it suits you, dove.”
“I think so,” you say lightly. “You should be a goldfish too, Remus. Or actually, I think I see you more as a seahorse. We could both be seahorses, if you like.” 
“Don’t seahorses mate for life?” 
“Mhm. Suits us, don’t you think?”
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unfinishedslurs · 1 year
Text
aware of his bisexuality steve (steddie, buckingham)
“Is that a hickey?” Comes out of Steve’s mouth without permission. But there it is, bright purple and red against the slope of her neck. She’s been walking kind of funny this morning, too. He’d assumed her period came early, but… “Rob, did you—“
Eddie fumbles the coffee mug he was pulling down. Chrissy freezes, face turning white with fear. Robin whips around, face bright red, and slaps a hand over her neck. 
“Bathroom!” She yelps. “Bathroom now!”
“Wait,” Eddie says, setting the mug down with trembling hands. “It was me. Sorry, man.”
Steve stares at him, unimpressed. Why the fuck would he lie about—
He looks at Chrissy again, who takes a nervous step back, and it clicks. 
“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “You. You gave Robin a hickey. Had totally awesome sex that she didn’t even tell me about.” He directs that last bit at Robin pointedly. He told her almost immediately when he lost his guy-ginity. Traitor. “Yep. Sure. Got it.”
Eddie blinks, confused. Robin buries her face in her hands. 
“Oh my god, calm down,” she groans. “That’s not going to work. Steve’s cool.”
“Cool?” Chrissy asks, still looking ready to bolt. 
“Super cool,” he assures her. “The coolest. So incredibly cool, even if my best friend didn’t even tell me when she lost her virginity.”
“Steve!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But I am going to need details, Buckley. We can go over what worked, and what needs more oomph.”
“Oh my god, can we talk about this anywhere else,” Robin groans, at the same time Eddie asks, “What, so you can get off on it later?”
“What,” Steve says. 
“You think two girls are hot, is that it?” He’s got a sneer on his face now, but Steve’s more observant than Dustin gives him credit for. Even if he wasn’t, it’d be hard to miss how hard his hands are shaking, the nervous tilt to his mouth. 
“Ew.” Steve’s face screws up. “Dude, no. It’s Robin.”
“Hey, fuck you,” Robin breaks in, from where she’s started comforting Chrissy. “You thought I was hot for at least a summer.”
His mouth drops open in betrayal. “We agreed to never talk about that again!”
“Can’t help being sexy,” she coons. Chrissy giggles wetly. “You wanna get married, Harrington? Have my babies? Stay home and raise six little nuggets while I bring home the bread?”
“I hate you,” he informs her. “Hate you so much. We’ll have a nice, heterosexual wedding and share a sad, heterosexual kiss, and you’ll carry me over the threshold of our nice, heterosexual house, and we’ll have boring, heterosexual sex that gives us nice, heterosexual babies, because we are so heterosexual and happy in our suburburban house in our nice little heterosexual town.”
He’s honestly kind of proud of himself for saying heterosexual so many times. Usually he fumbles words with that many syllables, especially after that many times in a row. 
Chrissy is outright laughing, now, endearing little snorts making their way between giggles. Eddie is looking between them like they’re a puzzle he can’t piece together. Robin grins.
“I’ll cuck you with the secretary.”
“Not if I cuck you first. You’ll be away all day in that office of yours, and I need someone big and strong to carry all the new furniture I ordered.”
“I knew it! I knew Timmy wasn’t mine!”
“Oh, but I couldn’t help myself,” he swoons. “Mark was just so sweet, with his bulging biceps and hand flexes, all hot and sweaty from helping poor little me while you were away! You know I’m weak to curly hair and brown eyes, Rob, how’s a man supposed to resist?”
“Fag,” she says, not without affection. 
“Dyke,” he shoots back. 
“Cocksucker.”
“Carpet—“
“Okay,” Eddie breaks in, clapping his hands. He and Robin both startle, and so does Chrissy from where she’s been watching them like a particularly interesting tennis match. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Robin lost her virginity and didn’t even tell me,” Steve says immediately, like he’s tattling to the principal. 
“Steve doesn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting,” Robin retorts. 
“I told you when I had gay sex,” he whines, and Eddie chokes. “I hate you. See if I ever give you tips again.”
“Oh, is that what you meant?” Chrissy asks. “Please don’t stop. They were good tips.”
Robin flushes all the way down to her toes. 
“You like boys?” Eddie wheezes. 
“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Yeah? I thought you knew.”
“You thought I—how would I know?”
The fuck is that supposed to mean? Steve’s been flirting with him for months!
“Robin always says we can sense each other! You sensed her.”
“You told him?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, and Robin looks sheepish.
“She didn’t have to,” Steve snarks. “You’re flagging in Hawkins, man. Was I supposed to miss it?”
“You know what flagging is?”
“Again, in case you missed it, I fuck men.”
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck! Christ, I can’t believe this. You’re, like, the epitome of heterosexual. I spent half of high school having to hear about how much pussy you were getting. Why are you not straight?”
“Wow, Eddie,” he deadpans. “Are you saying just because I like men and woman, I’m not queer enough? That’s kind of homophobic of you, man.”
“Yeah, Eddie, wow,” Robin says. “I thought you were better than this.” 
“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “I feel like I need to lie down. My entire worldview just shattered.”
“I have a couch?” Chrissy offers shyly. “Or a bedroom, if you need a minute away.” Fuck, Steve kind of adores her. Especially since she’s apparently vicious n bed, if the five other hickies he counts just from Robin bending down a little to whisper in her ear are any indication. Good for her.  
“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Robin says, with a glint in her eye that means he’s either going to love or hate what comes next. “If it helps, Steve’s never fucked a man in his life.”
Eddie’s brow furrows, looking between the two of them. “So…you’re just making fun of me?”
He looks a little angry now, and Steve can’t make heads or tails of this conversation because, “What the hell, Rob, yes I have—“
“Oh, so suddenly you’re the one doing the fucking?”
“Stop making fun of me for taking it!”
Eddie lets out an honest to god moan that he immediately slaps his hand over his mouth to cover up. “Right,” he says fervently. “Okay. I need to lie down, like, for real.” 
They watch him stride down the hall, so fast he’s almost running, and slam the door closed behind him.
“I could totally top,” he mutters to Robin as something that sounds vaguely like muffled screaming echoes down the hall. “I top girls all the time. It’s not my fault prostates are a gift from God.”
“Uh, you top because all the girls you fuck are from small town Indiana. If one of them brought out the strap you’d drop to your knees so fast—“
“That’s—I like topping!”
“Your favorite position is cowgirl. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
“I will show Chrissy your baby pictures,” he hisses. Robin makes a face at him. Chrissy nods excitedly from where she’s still tucked under Robin’s arm. 
“Oh what’s that?” Robin practically shouts. “You like being pressed against walls and ravished? You want someone to tie you up and have their filthy way with you? Is that what you said, Steve?”
Another noise from the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”
“Helping,” she says sweetly. “You’re both hopeless.”
“I told you he’s shy!”
“Eddie?” Chrissy asks. “Shy?”
“Yeah, okay, I was confused too, but I figured it was the romance! He told me he hasn’t actually been in a relationship before, I assumed he was nervous to take that step.”
“Yeah, but dingus,” Robin says sweetly. “You’re missing a puzzle piece here. He thought you were straight. He thought he was flirting with his straight best friend he didn’t have a chance in hell with, and then he finds out that said best friend likes taking it up the ass and men with brown eyes.”
“Oh,” Steve says, realization dawning. “Oh, fuck. What if he doesn’t like me like that?”
Robin smacks the back of his head. “Why are you stupid?”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Chrissy says. “Like, really don’t have to worry about that.”
“I’m not coming over tonight,” Robin says. “I’m gonna stay with Chrissy again. Er…if that’s okay?”
“That sounds amazing.” Chrissy beams, and Robin turns red again.
“Yeah, I’m going to stay with Chrissy again tonight. You are going to invite Eddie to stay the night when he gets done with his little crisis, and then we’re getting lunch at the diner tomorrow and you can tell me about it before our shift.”
“Right,” Steve says. “Right, I can do this. I’ve invited guys over before, how hard can it be? It’s just Eddie. But that was hotel rooms, not my house and my bedroom with my shitty wallpaper. And it’s Eddie. Fuck, what if I’m shit at it? Robin, what if I’m actually bad at sex and everyone who’s ever said I was good was lying because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Oh my god, I’m totally bad at sex.”
“Woah, dingus, slow down. I think we took the mind meld too far, you’re turning into me.”
“If it helps, I don’t think you’re bad at sex,” Chrissy says. Steve and Robin look at her, and she flushes. “Because of the tips! Not because—I’ve never slept with you, but some of my friends did, and I got three orgasms out of last night, so…”
“Oh thank God,” he breathes. “I was worried for a minute.” Then he raises an eyebrow at Robin, and holds out his hand for a high five. She slaps it, begrudgingly proud of herself, and then takes the hand to pull him into a headlock that’s honestly more of a hug than anything. 
“You’re fine,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re great at sex, as you keep telling me. What’s more, you’re funny, charming, handsome, brave, caring—“
“Aww, Robin, are you getting sappy on me?”
“Plus Eddie literally moaned in front of you when he found out you bottomed. I really don’t think there’s a way to fuck that up.”
Steve grins. “He did do that. I’m going to make so much fun of him later.”
“So,” Eddie says with a smirk, “men with brown eyes?”
“Hey man, don’t look at me. Blame Jonathan.”
Now Eddie looks stunned, mouth dropping open. “Byers?” He says, sounding betrayed. “You have a crush on Byers of all people?”
Steve feels offended on Jonathan’s behalf. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a good guy!”
“I guess.”
“What do you mean you guess? He’s sweet, passionate, good with kids, nice eyes. Can pack a punch. I mean, what’s not to like?”
“Uh, didn’t he steal your girlfriend?”
He waves that off. “That was, like, years ago, man. We’re cool now.”
“Right, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Well have fun with Byers, I guess.”
It clicks. “Oh,” he says. “Oooh. You’re jealous.”
Eddie splutters. “Jealous? I’m not—I don’t—you’re jealous!”
“Oh, am I?”
“Yes,” Eddie says resolutely, not looking at him. 
“Right,” Steve agrees. “Well, if I am jealous, maybe I should know that I got over Jonathan years ago, and have since moved on to brighter, hopefully more attainable pastures than my ex’s ex.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“A different man with brown eyes?” He suggests. “Who is also good with kids, and passionate, and…��� he trails off, suddenly realizing all those times Robin made fun of him might not be based on nothing. “Oh my god, I have a type. Shit, I have to tell Robin she was right.”
“I figured that was a common occurrence.”
“Shut up. Where was I going with this? I had a point.”
“You were telling me how awesome I am?”
“Oh, suddenly it’s you we’re talking about?”
“I mean,” suddenly Eddie looks shy, and Steve can’t help but think even with the change in context he might have been right when he told Robin Eddie was nervous about being in a real, romantic relationship, “isn’t it?”
He feels himself smile, slow and wide and probably more revealing than he means it to be. “Yeah,” he says, in a tone he knows Robin would call soppy, “it is.”
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hemmingsleclerc · 5 months
Text
Little Verstappen ▏Max Verstappen
-Pairing:Dad!MaxVerstappen
-summary: Olivia Verstappen doesn't let her father focus on his post-race interview
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The sun had just set on the racetrack, casting a warm glow on the tired faces of the drivers and the bustling pit crew. Max Verstappen, the triumphant winner of the day's race, was in the paddock surrounded by the hum of post-race activity. While journalists clamored for interviews, Max held his RedBull cap in one hand and, to everyone's surprise, cradled his young daughter, Olivia, in the other.
With a wide but tired smile on his face, Max agreed to a quick interview, with his daughter squirming playfully in his arms watching everything curiously. The interviewer, an experienced journalist, adjusted the microphone and began the conversation.
"Max, congratulations on another incredible race. How does it feel to win and be closer to winning your third championship?"
Max's eyes sparkled with joy, but his attention was often stolen by his daughter's mischievous antics, Liv, a bundle of energy, couldn't resist reaching for her father's cap and playing with his face.
"Well, it feels amazing," Max began, his words punctuated by Olivia's giggles. "The team did a fantastic job and the car was just perfect. It's always special to win, but having Liv here with me makes it even greater."
Olivia, not content with just the cap, began pulling on Max's ear, causing laughter from the crowd around her. Max, unfazed, continued answering questions while deftly avoiding her tiny fingers.
The interviewer chuckled: "Speaking of Olivia, what does she think when she sees her father win the race?"
''I don't know'' said Max ''Liv? What do you think?' he asked his daughter in his arms.
The little girl, realizing that the attention was now on her, felt her little cheeks heat up and hid her face in her father's neck, causing the elders to laugh.
"Well, it looks like we'll never know," Max said with a laugh as he rubbed his daughter's back. But the girl quickly turns around and says "My papa is the best driver in the whole world!" with a big smile on her face.
Max smiled at his daughter, who was now trying to put the cap on her own head. "She's amazing. She's my good luck charm and having her here makes everything that much more special. It's hard to describe the feeling of hugging her after a race. She's my biggest fan along with my wife, and I hope one day she understands what her father does."
As Max spoke, Olivia successfully donned the oversized cap, her eyes peeking out from beneath the brim. Max couldn't help but laugh, causing the crowd to join in the merriment.
The interview continued, a delightful mix of racing ideas and adorable interruptions. Liv, tired of the cap, now focused on her father's nose, causing more laughter from the viewers. Ever the professional, Max seamlessly integrated fatherhood and racing in a way that endeared him even more to fans.
At the conclusion of the interview, Max Verstappen lifted his daughter aloft, with the RedBull cap now perched precariously on her head. The image of the champion driver, crowned by his smiling daughter, became a trend on the Internet and was engraved in the hearts of fans around the world.
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pretty-little-mind33 · 6 months
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James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: You never intended to admit you would fuck James Potter. You hate him. Well, turns out you hate him a little less when he's touching you in ways you'd only dreamed of.
Genre: SMUT (nsfm), enemies to lovers 😘
Warnings: intoxication, swearing, mentions of spiking a drink, unprotected sex (but fr wrap it before you tap it besties), penetration, degradation, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, kinda dubious consent in the beginning? (James does ask for consent and reader agrees though!), kissing, premature ejaculation lmao
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"Would you date James Potter?"
James lifts his head at the sound of his name and he smiles when he sees you and your best friend.
His eyes had been focused to you from the moment he saw you enter the Common Room. How could they not be when the way your dress hugged your curves had his pants feeling three sizes too small?
James's been making sure to keep an eye on you all evening. Just so you won't get yourself in trouble. If he counted correctly, the butterbeer in your hand is your fourth and he can tell just by the way you stumble on your heels that you're already tipsy.
Your eyebrows crease in the middle at your friend's question and James sits up on the couch, moving his arm from the cushion where Primalia (some Ravenclaw who won't leave him alone) sits. He wants to hear your answer clearly, although he thinks he knows what you'll say,
"I would never date James Potter?!" You slur loudly. James's smile turns into a smirk.
You're so goddamn predictable.
You down your drink, clearly annoyed by the question and James returns his attention to the brunette on his left. Primalia looks at him with her glassy, hazel eyes and sends him a sweet smile — which means exactly what James thinks it means.
But, he finds himself looking at you almost automatically and frowns when he sees a boy hand you another drink. Five, he counts in his head and his frown deepens when the same boy starts to snake his arm around to your lower back.
"Excuse me," James tells Primalia absentmindedly as he stands. Jealousy prickles at his skin as he stares at you and the boy.
Luckily, it passes just as quickly as it came when he hears you yell and the boy reluctantly turns away and decide to leave you alone.
Still, James continues to make his way to you and just as you bring your drink to your lips, he swoops his arm over your head and plucks the glass from your hand.
"What the hell?" You exclaim, spinning around. You look up at him, eyes flaming when you realize it's him as he takes a sip from your drink and then obnoxiously spits the liquid back into the glass. Your eyes widen with disgust and James can admit he enjoys how flustered you look a little too much.
"Potter," You grit and snatch your drink back, glaring at him.
James diverts his attention from you and looks at your best friend, who sends him a weak smile, and he salutes her with his hand. Then, he turns his attention to you and just as he's about to explain, he feels foamy liquid drip down his cheeks and over his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut.
James hears shushed laughter all around him as he realizes you just threw your drink in his face. He stands a little straighter and his jaw tightens. He runs a hand down his face, "Always a pleasure, Y/l/n." He mutters and opens his eyes just in time to see you stomp away from him.
He hides an amused smile as he takes off his glasses and wipes them on his sleeve.
"I don't understand why you continue to try, mate." James hears Sirius suddenly laughs from next to him and pats his shoulder, "She hates you."
James shakes his head, "Nah. She thinks she hates me, but she doesn't. Not really."
"She threw her drink at you." Remus, who is standing next to Sirius, points out with a smile.
"Yeah, because I spit in it." James retorts nonchalantly.
Sirius and Remus look at each other, confused and distraught, "Prongs, that is not how you flirt with someone—, " Sirius starts to explain hesitantly, but James just laughs.
"I think that jerk put something in her drink. It tasted funny." James barely explains and adjusts his collar, "Jus' wanted to make sure she wouldn't drink it—keepin' her safe, y'know."
Remus shakes his head in amusement, "You do the stupidest things, James, but somehow they almost always end up being the right reasons."
"Thank you?" James sends his friends a lopsided smirk and absentmindedly wipes his wet hands on the front of his blazer, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna find the loo and clean up. I don't want to smell like beer all evening. Can you guys keep an eye on her, ya?"
Remus and Sirius look at each other again, very clearly exhausted by their friend's antics, but promise him they'll watch over you anyway.
* * *
Your hatred for James Potter began in your first year when he and his friends caused an explosion in Potions that intentionally turned your hair lime green for a month.
You'd understandably been upset about the incident and because of this James, more than the rest of the Marauders, found out it was endlessly entertaining to pull his favorite pranks on you.
Even now, in your last year of school, James still insists he loves how deep the wrinkles between your eyebrows crease and how flustered you always look whenever he really annoys you.
You loathe him.
Your hands tremble in anger as you pour yourself some punch in a new, untainted by Potter lips, glass. "He's so fucking infuriating." You slur.
"Sure, but you must admit he's super bloody hot." Lily randomly points out from behind you and you almost choke on your fruit punch, "Handsomest guy in our year, I'd say." She grins.
"Gross." You scrunch your nose and lean on the table, "Remus is cuter."
"Yeah, and Sirius Black is hotter." Your best friend, Izzy, adds quietly, her chubby cheeks pink.
Lily rolls her eyes and chuckles, “So you wouldn't fuck him, Y/n?” She raises an eyebrow at you.
You all turn silent. Sex with James Potter? Sure, you'd had your fair share of wet dreams where he was, unfortunately, the one to fuck you senseless — but you would never admit it.
Or, at least you wouldn’t if you weren’t completely shit-faced.
"Oh, I'd fuck him. I'd just have to do it with my eyes closed so I wouldn't have to look at him," You feel extremely proud of your joke until you realize your two friends' faces have become pale as their eyes fix on something behind you.
"You'd do what with our boy, Y/l/n?" A familiar snicker comes from near your shoulder and you freeze. Even as drunk as you are, you know you messed up.
You chew on your lip a moment, deciding you can stand your ground, and then you turn and narrow your eyes, "Tell him and I'll make sure to cut your dick in half, Black." You hiss.
Sirius puts his arms up and smirks. Remus, who stands next to him, looks at you sympathetically, "Sorry, doll, but Jamie will be over the moon to know you'd actually shag him." Sirius says.
Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and you try your hardest to take back your words, "I wouldn't want to touch James Potter even if it was with a pool-stick." You retort.
"Ouch," Remus mutters, "We definitely won't tell him that."
Lily interrupts, "Just leave us alone, you guys are pricks." She sounds exhausted and annoyed, "This was a private conversation."
"Sorry, Evans, no can do. We're supposed to look after this one," Sirius looks at you but Remus digs his elbow into Sirius's side, "Ow." His dark haired friend scrunches his nose but then his eyes round when he realizes what he’d said, "I mean —"
"Me?" You ask and then you realize, "Potter asked you to look after me, didn't he? Merlin, he's the absolute worst. I don't need babysitters," You whine and you can tell both Sirius and Remus look a little guilty at your annoyance.
"You can tell that wanker I am leaving and that he can suck it," You tuck some hair behind you ear and finish your punch in one sip, 'Oh, and if one of you tells him I said I would fuck him, I'll cut off his dick as well as yours." You point your index at them and the boys swallow.
They don't speak for a moment as you walk away with your friends. Sirius breaks first, "Is it wrong that I'm turned on?" He whispers.
Remus instantly slaps the back of his head, "Yes. You're disgusting."
Sirius frowns at his best friend, "I'm kidding. Y/n is James's girl, remember? He called dibs on her since first year."
"I remember." Remus rolls his eyes, "But, she isn't exactly his girl, is she? She can't stand the poor bloke."
"I mean, James's girl or not – she does want to shag him." Sirius shrugs.
"Who wants to shag me?" James cuts in from next to them, his blazer damp the water he's used to wipe the stench of beer from his clothes. He's also found himself another drink. Remus and Sirius freeze.
"No one." Remus mutters quickly, avoiding James's eye.
"Moony," James warns, "Tell me."
Remus stays silent but James has turned his attention to Sirius. Sirius, who can never keep his mouth shut.
"It's Y/n. Y/n wants to fuck you."
"Bloody hell, Sirius!"
* * *
You wake up with the worst hangover of your life. You can barely remember what happened until Lily reminded you.
"I said what?!" You cry as you frantically comb your hair.
"You said you'd fuck him," Izzy points out as she pins her hair behind her ears with barrettes, "With your eyes closed, mind you." She smiles.
"I would never fuck him!" You stare at yourself in the mirror, ashamed you had admitted you'd fuck someone you hated so much.
Lily looks at Izzy and they don't seem convinced, "Okay, sure. It doesn't matter, come on, we have Potions in less than ten minutes." She hurries you out the door.
Potions. You've hated that class since first year. You especially hate it this year because James and Remus sit next to you and your partner.
You are happy it's not James and Sirius, because that would be even more annoying.
This morning you try very hard not to look at James. Usually, you'll send him an occasional glare when he makes an obnoxious comment but today, you don't even lift your head at the sound of his voice.
"Hey, Y/l/n." James calls but you ignore him. "Y/n." He tries, but still no answer. "Y/n/n?" He teases and is rewarded by your frown and glaring stare.
"What do you want, Potter?" You snap, pausing your concentration on the potion you're currently making. James leans one hand on your desk and, licking his lips, he points to the jar of worms you have next to you.
"Can I borrow that?" He looks at you with his famous puppy-dog eyes. You feel your stomach flip and pretend it's because you want to puke.
Thalia, your partner, immediately slides the jar towards James and bats her pretty eyelashes at him, "Here," She says sweetly.
Now it's definitely because you want to puke.
James doesn't look at Thalia as his eyes fix you, "Thanks, love." He says to her but smiles at you and then returns to his desk. You follow him with your eyes and scoff when you see Remus tap their own jar of worms on their table. James shrugs with a smirk.
You want to strangle him.
Once Potions is over, you almost run out of the classroom. Usually, James and his friends find a way to annoy you on your way to Charms but not this time. No, this time you ditch Lily and Izzy and take the longer way to class. The one with the usually empty corridor and echoey walls.
You hum along as you walk, completely unaware of a presence behind you until you feel a hand clasp around your arm.
You don't have time to think of screaming as you're pushed against the wall, someone's body pressed against your back as your left cheek hits the cold brick. Your leather bookbag slips down your shoulders and onto the floor with a thud.
"Say the words and I'll leave," An all too familiar voice whispers into the shell of your ear and your initial fear is replaced by annoyance and a hint of arousal — which you hate yourself for.
"Potter." You breathe out, feeling his hold loosen a little but his body presses into yours a little more. You shut your eyes and sink your teeth into your lower lip,
"A little birdy told me someone has naughty dreams about me," James mocks, his voice low, "Is that true?"
You frown and then struggle against him, "You're absolutely delusional." You hiss, hiding how turned on you are.
"Am I?" James chuckles and then his hand starts to wander up and down your side and you suck in your breath.
"Y-yes." You say, voice quivering.
"I love how quickly you turn into putty in my hands, Y/n." James chuckles and your core aches. You wince. What is wrong with you?
You're supposed to hate him, not want him.
James rolls his hips into your ass and you let out a gasp, "James!" You use his first name and he pauses, "S-someone could see us." You try to reason and your chest heaves.
"No one walks by here," James breathes down your neck, his hand squeezing your waist as the other pins one of your hands to the wall, "And, classes have started by now."
You realize he's right and start to fight against him again. James loosens his hold, "Do you want me to let you go?" James asks seriously and you can tell if you did want him to walk away, he would — no questions asked.
"Or, do you want me to touch your pussy and make all those wet dreams you have come true." He sounds cocky and you frown, wanting to wipe the grin you know he's wearing off his stupid face.
"I have a feeling your panties are soaked already." You feel embarrassed, knowing James is entirely correct. You're so turned on you can barely think. You don't know if you want to curse Sirius and Remus for snitching on you, or thank them.
"Fuck you." You manage to hiss but you have stopped your very weak attempts at resisting James's advances. Perhaps you've wanted him to fuck you more than you thought.
"Tsk tsk, language, darling." James laughs in your ear. His hair tickles your neck and you shiver, "Here, I'll tell you what, suck me off and then I'll fuck you exactly like you want."
Your breath hitches in your throat as James spins you around and pushes you down onto your knees. You let him and then look up. He smirks down at you and runs his hand along your cheek up to your hair — which he takes in his fist and you moan.
"Merlin, you're a slut, aren't ya?" James chuckles, eyes dark with lust and your core throbs.
"Don't call me that," You still snap. James's hand falters in your hair and you realize that he's beginning to doubt you want this. So, you smile at him and decide to tell him you do. "Potter, if you're trying to impress me, so far all you've done is prove you're all just bark and absolutely no bite. Is this the best you can do?"
James smirks at that and then holds your hair tighter, "Unbuckle my jeans," He demands and you do so quickly. When you see him you have to admit you're a little surprised James's confidence is warranted.
"Well? Suck." James interrupts your thoughts. You roll your eyes and take him in your hands. You run one hand along his dick for a moment, earning a small moan, and then take him into your mouth.
You enjoy the control you have as you suck his dick, bobbing your head up and down. You occasionally look up to admire the look of pleasure contorting his features.
James curses under his breath and then, suddenly, he's completely face fucking you. You gag, tears brimming as your throat opens wider.
"Shit," James groans. He's lost in pleasure.
You hold onto his thighs as he fucks your mouth. You're taken by surprise when, without warning, he comes and you almost choke on the salty liquid.
James lets you go once you've swallowed and you recover with a small cough. A little disappointed, you wipe at the sides of your mouth.
"Stand up." James orders, his voice hoarse. You look up at him, confused.
"Excuse me?"
"What? You think I'm done with you? I still haven't fucked you."
You stand slowly, "But you just came?" You stutter.
James tilts his head and smirks, "And?" He takes your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead quickly. You don't have time to be surprised by the intimate gesture because he's spinning you around and pinning you to the wall again. James holds one of your hands near each side of your head, "I'm not satisfied until I've fucked you senseless, Y/n."
Your eyes flutter shut as you feel him kiss your neck. One of his hands teasingly slides down to your stomach and then under your shirt as he untucks it from your skirt, "Keep 'em up." He mentions your hands when he feels them slip and you keep them pressed to the wall.
James starts to knead the flesh of your breasts over your bra, his fingers occasionally flicking your nipples. You bite your lip. When you feel him harden against your ass again, you let out a small moan.
"Tell me how much you like this," James whispers, his lips near your ear, and your stomach tightens.
"Cocky much? I've had better," You say, wanting to push his buttons. With one last pinch to your nipples, James's hand abandons your breasts and instead travels into your panties. You suppress a moan when he easily glides a finger across your pussy.
Smirking, James brings them to your lips so you can taste yourself, "Wanna try that again?" He asks as you suck on his fingers. His hand then comes down to your throat and he squeezes lightly.
Stubbornly, you shake your head
"No?" James pushes his hips into yours and squeezes your throat harder, "Fine, I'll just have to make you admit it then and trust me, Y/n, I won't be satisfied until you're screaming my name.”
You moan again, your face feeling incredibly hot when James starts to bunch up your skirt into your panties, "Merlin, you're so fucking pretty." He compliments, squeezing your ass and you smile.
However, when you feel him start to push your panties to the side you panic, "Wait!" You cry and James retreats his hand immediately, moving away from you. 'I- I'm a virgin." You whimper, embarrassed.
James backs away a little and asks, his voice calm, "You said you'd had better?"
"I lied."
"Okay. Shh, you're okay. Want me to stop?" He asks softly.
You chew on your lip and shake your head. You feel warm and fuzzy all over, "Can I- can I see you?" You ask, your voice small.
You hear shuffling behind you, "I thought you didn't want to look at me," James teases with a hint of a smile.
Your cheeks burn, "Please, James."
Gently, he turns you around so you're resting the back of your head on the wall and your hands press on his chest. You look at him in his beautiful eyes and your heart flutters. Lily was right, James Potter is really really handsome.
James sees you staring and grins, "Better?"
You nod and his hand hesitates at your thigh, "May I?" He asks and you whisper a quiet yes. You shiver when he takes your thigh and wraps it around his waist. Once more, he uses his other hand to push your panties aside and then you feel him press his tip at your entrance.
You inhale, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you prepare for the pain. James's voice soothes you, "You're okay. No one's gonna hurt you, it's just me." He whispers.
You feel him stretch you open and you cry out into his shoulder, "Yeah, but I don't like you." Your voice is a little muffled.
James breathes deeply and whispers, "It's okay not to hate me anymore, Y/n. I know I've done some hateable things but — " He curses at how hard you're squeezing around him, "I've changed."
You feel pain and you squirm a little, "Ow — I frankly don't care about that right now. I — James, it hurts."
James stops. He doesn't pull out, afraid that will also hurt you, but he does wait, "I'm sorry, love. What do you need? What can I do?"
You wipe your tears on his shoulder, "Just continue, Potter." You order, wanting this to work. You can't imagine letting him walk away now.
James listens and when he's finally all the way in and he starts to move, the pain quickly starts to disappears. "I- it feels nice now." You tell him breathlessly.
"Yeah?" James's thrusts are slow and he's looking at you sweetly. You hug him closer as his cock drives into you and makes you feel so unusually full.
You squeeze around him and he groans. He starts to pepper kisses onto your neck and with every thrust he presses you further into the wall, "There you go, sweetheart, squeeze around me. Show me how much you like me. Is this what you imagined when you were alone?"
James's pace quickens, "Did you come on your fingers moaning my name?" He seems lost in his own world as he mumbles obscene, filthy, questions in the shell of your ear.
"Y-yes." You admit and you let the feeling of his cock overwhelm you.
"Tell me." James suddenly squeezes your cheeks in his hand, forcing you to look at him, and his voice becomes raspy. He's fucking you with no mercy now.
"I touch myself thinking of you." You admit.
"Yeah?"
You nod and let out another moan when James lowers his hand and rubs lazy circles onto your clit.
"Look down at what I'm doing to your pretty pussy," He snaps and you lower your eyes. Your cheeks burn as you see James's cock disappear into you. "Merlin, you're mine now. Molded just for me." He whispers with a smirk.
You groan in approval and whimper, "Harder."
"Hmm?"
"Harder." You punctuate your words and moan loudly when James complies. His hips snap into yours with more precision and every time you feel him, that tightness in your stomach worsens and your vision starts to blur.
James lets out a breathy moan, "Shit, I'm gonna come." He continues fucking you until he comes inside you. However, his thrusts don't falter until he feels you squeeze around him one last time.
Your skin tingles from your orgasm as you let your head drop onto James's chest and your hands clutch at his arms. All you can focus on is your raspy breaths as James shuffles with his clothes, drops your leg, and then gently adjusts your panties as he unbunches your skirt from inside them.
You make a sound of disapproval when James holds your hand and walks you to the girls bathroom not far away from where you were. He opens the door and motions you inside with his head. You look at him with a frown, confused.
"You gotta pee." He explains softly.
Your frown deepens, "No I don't." You argue, feeling defensive.
James shakes his head with a small smile, "No, love, you really gotta pee. Trust me." You look into his eyes. Trust him? Your cheeks feel warm.
You decide it's no use arguing and you leave him outside the bathroom door. As you sit on the toilet and you stare at the floor, fear starts to bubble inside your stomach.
What have you done?
And why don't you regret it?
After you've washed your hands and swished some water around your mouth to dull the taste of cum, you exit the bathroom and James pushes himself off the wall and steps in front of you. "You okay?" He asks genuinely, a concerned look on his face. You look at him blankly, feeling all sorts of complicated emotions. James rubs his nape, "Listen, I-"
"I know. It was just the spur of the moment." You interrupt him.
James's eyebrows scrunch, "What?"
"I don't want this to happen again either, if that's what you mean." You state. You don't understand why James looks so hurt.
"Oh? I-Is that what you want?"
You blink. Is this what you wanted? No.
You nod and the glimmer in James's eyes disappears, "Well, that isn't what I want," He says. He looks so serious it feels like you're talking to a completely different person.
James walks closer to you and you let him. Delicately, he cups your cheeks in his hands and you look at him. His eyes flicker to your lips, "Y/n, tell me you hate me and I'll leave you alone. I won't even breath in your direction anymore. Tell me you want me too and I promise I'll make up for all those years I made you hate me."
Silence.
"I don't hate you," You whisper, surprising yourself for admitting that aloud, "I've never really hated you," You roll your eyes subtly, "I don't think I'm capable of hating you."
James smiles, "I couldn't hate you either."
You turn your head slightly, James's hands restricting your movement, and frown, "Then why were you such an asshole all these years?" His smile disappears and his cheeks dust pink.
"I don't know," His words die in his throat, "You made me nervous and I- I didn't know how to approach you properly. There is no excuse, I know. I was an idiot and I'm sorry." He looks into your eyes, "I'm really fucking sorry and all I want to do want to make it up to you. I'll do anything." He sounds so sincere you don't know what to think.
"James," You whisper and your hands come to brush against his forearms, "Kiss me." You say, realizing that after all you've done you haven't kissed him.
"Huh?" He makes a breathless sound, his eyes flickering to your lips.
"I said, kiss me." You say, a little harsher this time.
James doesn't waste anymore time and when his lips touch yours, you think you must have imagined them because of how delicate they are. His thumbs starts caressing across your cheeks as his lips move over yours.
You grip his arms harder and then clutch at his shirt as you kiss him with more dedication. More passion. You bite his lip lightly. "Bloody hell," James mutters as he takes a breath. His lips are bruised and his cheeks are now stained crimson. With a smile, you pull him back in and kiss him again.
You kiss him as if you'd been best friends for years. As if you'd explored each other's bodies more than just this once and you know each birthmark on each other's skin.
You kiss him like you like him — which, it's time to admit that you do.
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
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Cave boy Danny starts talking about one of the debates Tucker and Sam without mentioning their names when asked who the two are,Danny panics again and says that Sam is Selina since that's not that big of a jump when he starts saying her name
"One of my best friends would agree with you." Brucie suddenly speaks up one night at Dinner when Damian rants about his school not offering enough Vegetarian options. "She is an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian."
Bruce blinks having never heard the term before. A quick glance around the table tells him that neither have the others. Must be slang from his universe then. "What does that mean?"
"She doesn't eat anything with a face," Brucie explains. The curve of his lips has the tiniest amount of bestowed fondness that could only come from infatuation. Oh, Brucie is sweet on the girl. Bruce feels mildly alarmed as all his kids and Alfred sits up in interest when spotting it.
Unaware of what he just unwillingly gave away Brucie continues "Not to be confused with being a vegan because she will eat bread and cheese, but not often. She gets real mad when people mislabel her."
Dick grins, leaning over his forgotten dinner to pin Brucie under an eager stare. "I bet. Mislabeling is the worst."
"It is!" Brucie agrees, seemingly satisfied that someone else feels the same. "Especially when getting her to like you is like trying to get a cat's approval. But it's totes worth it when you do. No one has your back better than her."
A....cat's loyalty? Oh no. Surely it couldn't be-?
"What's your best friend's name?" Steph speaks up asking what's on everyone's mind. They all lean in a little closer as Brucie mindlessly gathers some rice on his fork.
"Her name is Sa-" Brucie takes a bite of his rice before swallowing. It takes everything in him not to quote Alfred and scold him for speaking with his mouth full. How Brucie grew up with such manners, Bruce would never know. "Selina! Her name is Selina."
Oh.
It seemed even in another world Bruce's heart would fall into Selina Kyle's hands.
His kids all but burst into cheers. Even Jason, and that was very hard to accomplish in the last few years.
"I knew it! I knew it!"
"Of course, it's Selina! Who else could it have been?"
"I suppose Kyle is not too horrid a partner for Father."
Duke and Cass high-five while Alfred seems to be glowing in parental pride as the other kids chat about his on-and-off girlfriend again. If a civilian version of himself still fell for her, Bruce could convince his Selina to quit the crime life and be his permanently.
Brucie stares a comprehensive eye around the table, so Bruce takes pity on him.
"I have a Selina as well. My kids....enjoy her company." He says, watching blue eyes swing at him as tiny black bangs fall slightly over them. It's adorable, and he finally understands why he had so many admirers. He bets civilian Brucie breaks just as many, if not more, hearts than he did at that age. "How long have you known Selina for?"
"Um...since she moved to my school when we were ten, so about four years, give or take?" Brucie shrugs, a slight blush overtaking his face. "She's great."
Oh, Bruce bet she is.
"Wait." Tim suddenly speaks up, eyes narrow in mistrust. Bruce had noticed before that the second youngest was suspicious of their dimensional visitor. He had been meaning to pull him aside to talk about it. "You said one of your best friends. Who is the other?"
"...Ethan. My other best friend is Ethan," Brucie says after a moment. He must mean Ethan Bennett. Bruce thinks wistfully of the old days when he would play basketball with his dear friend before he was lost in Clayface.
But why did Brucie pause on Ethan's name like that? It almost seemed like he was very carefully selecting that name or was trying to control his facial reaction to it.
A familiar blush bloomed over Brucie's checks and- oh. The boy had spoken about wishing he was from a world where bisexuality was more common, didn't he?
It would make sense. It's not like Ethan hadn't crossed his mind once or twice when Bruce was a teenager, either.
Tim's eyes narrow further. "I don't believe you."
"And I believe you can't stand the sight of your reflection because you're convinced no one will ever want it either." Brucie cheerfully chirps back before closing his eyes and sighing as if tired. He slumps in his chair, leaning his head against the headrest. "Sorry, that was mean. I'm trying to be less mean."
Bruce frowns at him, aware of Tim's eyes going glossy to his right but his son doesn't seem to want to step away. All conversation stops as they glare daggers at Brucie. Dick especially seems the most upset. "That was uncool Brucie"
"Yeah, sorry force of habit. My older sister and I-"
"Your what?" Bruce cuts him off, wondering if he heard right.
"My older sister?"
"You have a sister?"
"Yeah, don't you?"
"No," Bruce whispers. "No, I don't. I'm an only child."
"Oh. I'm the second youngest. I have an older sister, an older brother, and a younger sister." Brucie turns over to Tim to offer a sincere apology that the other gracious takes, but Bruce can't hear him over the sound of blood rushing between his ears.
"Mother and Father had more children?"
"Kind of." Brucie's face twists slightly in consideration. "Tommy and Harley are adopted. They are technically cousins since they were made by my uncle Vlad. Kate.....my older sister Kate, is my aunt Alicia's bio-kid but she was raised by my parents since she was one since Aunt Alicia wasn't...in the best mental state to care for her. No hard feelings are between them."
"Tommy, as in Tommy Elliot?!" Dick gasps, springing to his feet. "He is your adoptive older brother!?"
Brucie appears startled by his reaction, but he nods all the same. Bruce feels dread sink into his stomach.
"He's evil!" Dick shouts.
"I know." Brucie shrugs, uncaring. "Tommy has some issues, and he had them since he was...fourteen, but he's not dangerous.."
"Did you all miss that he said Harley is his younger sister? Harley as in Harleen Quinzel?" Jason cuts in, twisting to pin Brucie with a hard stare. "That's her real name, isn't it?"
"Well, her real name is Harleen Wayne, but she prefers Harley," Bruice says carefully. "Why? Do you know her?"
"She's evil too!" Dick gasps. "Brucie, you're in terrible danger with those two around!"
"Nah, Kate will stop them." Brucie waves his hand. "Sides Tommy and Harley are always traveling. Neither are home much these days."
Bruce feels a headache growing behind his eyes as Dick desperately tries to explain what happens to Brucie's adoptive siblings in their world. At the same time, his counterpart argues on his sibling's behalf.
(No one knows about the electric candles disappearing from the dinner table as the house descends into madness, trying to make the dimension travel realize his danger. Even fewer are aware of Danny's silent apology to Sam, Tucker, Jazz, Dan, or Dani for butchering their names and somehow still connecting them to someone in this world.)
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