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#like the universe brought them together to get to be friends....
thefreakandthehair · 2 days
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I just wanna see that smile
wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss
a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!
Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 
Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 
Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 
Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 
Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 
Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 
“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 
Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 
“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”
“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 
Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 
Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 
“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 
“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 
The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 
Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 
They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.
“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 
Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.
“What are you worried about?”
“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 
“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 
“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 
Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 
“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 
“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”
“Yep.” 
He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 
“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 
“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 
“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 
Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 
Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.
“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 
The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 
Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 
“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”
fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.
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littledata · 7 hours
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@princington's amazing art brought me back to this fic so have a little extra for them.
There are many, many terrible things about dating Beatrice.
For example: she manages to wake up at six AM every single morning to go jogging and comes home looking sweaty and sexy while Ava is still dealing with bedhead. She's also organised to the point of insanity and remembers every important date, even the ones Ava didn't realise she knew (like the date she opened the coffee shop. They hadn't even met for fuck's sake), and manages to swoop in with a thoughtful gift or kind word to mark the occasion. Meanwhile, Ava is still scribbling DON'T FORGET DENTIST - TUESDAY?? on the back of her hand like a high schooler.
And if all of that wasn't horrible enough, even after almost a year of dating, Beatrice can still roll up the cuffs of her sleeves or adjust her glasses or recite some complicated piece of research, and Ava winds up hopelessly turned on in public on the regular.
It sucks, actually. Ava's life is awful.
None of that is the worst part of it though. The worst part of dating Beatrice, who is sexy and thoughtful and intelligent, is that she's fucking impossible to buy gifts for.
Beatrice doesn't actually want anything is half the problem. She reads a lot of books but she mostly checks them out from the university library. She drinks a lot of tea, but Ava runs a coffee shop. If her girlfriend wants tea, she has a store room full of it. Other than that, she mostly likes crosswords, the gym, her friends, and… well. Ava.
It's making planning for the first birthday Beatrice has had since they've been together exceptionally stressful. Particularly since Ava knows for a fact that Beatrice's parents believed in a "socks and school supplies" style of gift giving which, as far as she's concerned, barely even count.
"What are you getting Bea for her birthday?" she whispers conspiriatorially to Camila one Saturday afternoon in Mary and Shannon's back yard. Beatrice herself is bouncing the baby on her knee and debating some obscure scientific hypothesis - something about mold. Ava is surprised to find she actually has an opinion on the topic. Probably all those mold documentaries.
Camila snorts, "Have you just figured out she's impossible to buy for?"
"Yes," Ava stresses, "C'mon, what are you getting her? And if it's really good I'm stealing your idea."
"Oh no." Camila shakes her head, "It took me all year to think of something. You're on your own."
"Cam." Ava tries her best pleading, puppy dog eyes. They don't work nearly as well on Camila as they do on Beatrice.
"Ava." Camila pats her hand comiseratingly, "Just get her what every self-respecting lesbian wants for their birthday."
Ava frowns, "Power tools?"
Camila smirks, "Strap-on and lingerie."
So that conversation was entirely useless - mostly because Ava already owns more than enough of both those things and they sort of seem like a gift for both of them more than just Beatrice. And more than anything else, Ava wants her girlfriend to feel special. Like she's worth something great that's for her and only her.
Shannon is her next port of call. Ava corners her in the kitchen where she's refilling drinks and, probably pre-warned by Camila, looks entirely unsurprised to be accosted.
"We normally order some of the gross British candy she likes," Shannon informs her. "And before you even try it - she knows that's what we get her every year, so don't try and steal the idea."
Ava groans despondently, "I'm hitting a wall here. What the fuck do you buy for someone who doesn't actually want anything?"
Beatrice does always say that her best friend is unreasonably logical and practical in her advice. For the first time, Ava understands her plight when Shannon shrugs and says, "Have you tried asking her?"
With nothing else to do, Ava tries. Admittedly, she probably picks a bad time to do it: she's shirtless and sitting cross-legged on their bed while Beatrice massages lotion into the new tattoo on her shoulder. Bea's fingers are gentle and thorough and very, extremely distracting.
"Hey," Ava says a little breathlessly, her eyes closed, "What do you want for your birthday?"
Beatrice, because she is Beatrice, says, "You don't have to get me anything."
Typical. This is why dating her is so difficult. "Obviously I do," Ava points out. "For my birthday you took me to a theme park even though it's your idea of actual, literal hell." Bea had even bought and worn a t-shirt that said "I RODE THE BIG ONE". Camila has the photograph framed in her office.
"Not actual, literal hell," Beatrice argues, "I enjoyed that you had fun."
"There's really nothing you want?" Ava asks.
Disappointingly, Beatrice's fingers stop their movement and she puts a cap on the lotion, moving off the bed behind Ava. "Is this what you were whispering with Camila and Shannon about earlier?"
"Maybe. They weren't helpful."
Beatrice's smile is affectionate, "They never are." She leans in to kiss her, her hand landing on Ava's bare shoulder and skirting over her neck, "I'd like to spend my birthday with you. That's all."
Ava wraps her arms aroud her shoulders and sighs, "Dating you is the worst."
"Mm, awful," Beatrice agrees, kissing the corner of her mouth and then her jaw. "Shall we break up?"
"Yep." Ava turns her head to press their lips together again and uses her distraction to lie back, pulling Beatrice down on top of her. "We're over."
(On her birthday, they drink tea in bed and do a crossword puzzle with Ava's head on Beatrice's shoulder. Later, they wander through a museum eating wine gums and holding hands. At Shannon and Mary's place, Beatrice unwraps the cordless drill that Ava bought for her.
"Thank you," she says, "It's just what I wanted.")
(Ava saves the strap-on and lingerie for later.)
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loveebot · 3 days
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helloo!! orange cat!reader or golden retriever!reader?? :)
thank you for the ask !! i have my four main !readers but if anyone has ideas for occasional side !readers then please send them in🎀🎀 ( 2 in 1 guys !!! 😋😋 )
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gingerkitty!reader
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canonically kitty!reader’s baby sister. lovess the sanrio universe (has sanrio bedsheets, clothes, jewelry, etc). her hair is always in pigtails. soft spoken. brown eyeliner. friendship bracelets coating her wrists. always sleepy. def turns into her sis when someone wakes her up earlier than she was planning on. her outfits are definitely like the original coquette (not dollette) superr calm + mellow. much more friendly and affectionate than kitty!reader. “girls just wanna have some” by chromatics.
ㅤㅤ ㅤ۪ㅤ— ㅤ۫ㅤ๑ㅤ ۟ㅤ ˗ˋˏ 🐈 ㅤ‧₊ ♱
w/ matt — you’re def your calmest with him. you can fall asleep on him at literally any time. if you have an attitude cause you’re forced to wake up early for something important he shuts it down immediately. “c’mere,” he’d say, then whistle. “knock it off, seriously.” you’ve always gotta be touching him (holding hands, moving his hand to your back, making him stop whatever he’s doing just so you can hug him; things like that).
w/ chris — he’s alwayss buying you sanrio merch. especially if you’re pissed at him (we all know chris just acts a fool, and usually you take it the wrong way). “listen, i know you didn’t like the joke i made about the girl in the movie. so…i brought you something.” and obviously you’d already forgiven him hours ago so you reward him with mind boggling sex!
w/ nate — you guys are saurr cute. you’ll come home from work and he’ll be sitting on your bed watching the adventures of hello kitty and friends. you’re just thinking “i love you sooo much.” y’all def make matching bracelets together and never take them off. i’m sorry your sex is soo vanilla for a whileee, it’s only one night when he comes home from a really bad game and takes it out on you that you both realize you like it rough.
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goldenretriever!reader
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works at a cute little unknown bakery. jorts. “falling for ya” by grace phipps. fluffy socks. has an insane strawberry shortcake obsession. canonically puppy!reader’s irish twin (1st). the more “mature” of the two of them. she’s really just as dependent on her man as her sister is. they’re only different because she’s less clumsy. babydoll dresses. her baking materials are heart shaped. hopeless romantic (the kid who would make pretend wedding dresses out of toilet paper then proceed to get yelled at by mom and dad because she was wasting it=her).
ㅤㅤ ㅤ۪ㅤ— ㅤ۫ㅤ๑ㅤ ۟ㅤ ˗ˋˏ 🦮 ㅤ‧₊ ♱
w/ matt — he’s your favoritee person in the world. whenever he’s not home ‘cause he had to shop or film or whatever you literally break down. he comes home and’s like “hey, what’s the problem? m’here, okay?” he loves when you wear your babydoll dresses ‘cause he knows there’s nothing under. believeee he’s taking you to the nearest enclosed space and eating. you. the fuckkk. out. such a munch.
w/ chris — when you guys bake together it’s always a big ass mess (you never don’t have a food fight). he lovess when his girl gets needy. which is almost all the time, so it’s just constant touching. you’re all on him and he’s all “yeaa, i know, i know.” especially cause you’re a little shy, not to the point where you don’t talk to people but y’knoww.
w/ nate — your favorite thing to do is steal his baseball caps and wear them backwards. you lovee his hair. you always tell him if he changes his haircut you’re literally gonna dump his ass, no joke. when you guys are fucking you’re fingers are always running through his hair, and you both like it so it’s highly unlikely that he ever would change it. sometimes he comes to visit you at your little bakery so he can watch you work. you usually don’t even notice him because you’re so locked in to your masterpieces.
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ .⁺ ⸝⸝
just me acknowledging that this is 100% inspired by multiple other writers on this app, specifically, starfxkr, princessbrunette (love her sm) and donatellawritings, and if any of the writers who use these type of !readers see this and feel that my interpretation is too close to theirs and they want me to take this down, i will.
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therealvinelle · 3 days
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I love the Agatha Christie question!
Who are your HP/Twilight faves in the Christie universe? (Who’s the opportunist who knows too much and dies for it? Who’s the conman killer who courts the girl to avoid suspicion? Who’s just trying to take a holiday and gets caught-up in a murder? Who are the dynamic mystery-solving duo who realize they are in love by the end of the novel? etc.).
I mean, that is kind of what The Man Who Would Be King (and secret fic) (both cowritten with @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin) have already become. We have our murder victim, Alphard, a very rich man with a colorful family, and possibly his sister, we have our unlikely detectives in Voldemort, Lily Potter, and Alphard himself. It may not be the center of the story but it's a large part of it.
In other words my answer for Harry Potter would somehow spoil all my present and future fics so I won't.
As for the Twilight version...
I vote we do it wealthy dysfunctional family style, it's most natural.
A patriarch is poisoned
Carlisle Cullen, a very wealthy man with powerful enemies, nonetheless dear to those around him and blessed with more friends than most, is found dead in his office one morning. Cause of death? Murder.
The police, caught on the detail that Dr. Cullen was a vampire and vampires are real, what the fuck is this on the doctor's autopsy table and is he going to wake up again and drink all our blood?, are little use in the investigation. Scotland Yard is soon brought in, and using Chief Swan's connections with the family they get a better picture of Dr. Cullen's life.
His family wasn't looking to inherit him anytime soon, as he was immortal. None of them were having money troubles however, all were independently wealthy.
He had made enemies of a thousand-year-old clan of powerful vampires, who on hearing that his murder is being investigated like this get very upset. Supposedly the victim lived with them in his youth (and inspector Craddock cries when he learns the timeline for this murder goes back to the 1600s. Are they going to have to bring historians in on this murder??), he might have known something
Oh what's that? The victim had a whole network of friends across the globe, who are all killers, and he knew everyone's secrets? ... do we have the budget to investigate this?
The victim was also living next to a tribe of magical shapeshifting wolves evolved specifically to kill his kind. They liked him best and had a line in their treaty that "he dies last". Not sure what to do with this information
Rosalie Hale missing person case from 1933 solved: Carlisle Cullen adopted her. Was she recognised, did someone piece it together, and was Carlisle killed in retribution?
The victim lived a fake life of fake papers. Could be important, except it's the most normal thing about this case.
The police wonder how this man didn't get murdered sooner, and are stretched so thin the investigation is going slowly.
So, Renesmee gets to be our plucky detective du jour, as she decides to see if she can help. Surely there is no harm in her poking around, and she's well liked around the vampire world so there might be answers she can get that human police can't, partly because policemen keep getting eaten.
She slowly narrows it down to the horrible realization that it was someone in the family, and she learns terrible things.
Jasper Hale wasn't Jasper Hale at all! He was a friend of Jasper's in the newborn army who wanted a new life, and who in the wake of Jasper's suden and unexpected death assumed his identity. He had Peter bite his entire face so he'd be scarred like Jasper had been, and vouch for this blond vampire most definitely being Jasper Hale. Peter later had to die because he Knew Too Much, and so did Charlotte, regrettably. Fake Jasper did however not kill Carlisle.
Edward seems a prime suspect, he is an angry and resentful young man who acts out. Everyone thinks he did it, and that Bella should certainly marry Jacob, the safer option. Much upheaval is had, however, once Renesmee is able to clear Edward's name and he meaningfully links arms with Bella. They sail off into the sunset with their inheritance.
Rosalie is a beautiful, cold, intimidating woman, the femme fatale sort who's surely conniving. It's a bit of a mystery why she married that poor fool Emmett, but it's clear to all she doesn't love him. No clear motive from her, other than the money she would inherit, but she's just so suspicious. Her alibi is ambiguous, she claims she was with Esme and Emmett but what if Esme and Emmett are lying to protect their daughter and wife? Superintendent Battle wonders about that.
Renesmee is at a loss.
And then she realizes that it's not Rosalie who acts like she doesn't love Emmett, it's Emmett who acts like he doesn't love her! And Esme's grieving widow act is just that, it's an act!
Renesmee realizes that Emmett and Esme are lovers, and killed Carlisle together. Esme committed it while Emmett tricked Rosalie into giving her an alibi. Renesmee realizes this once she has a "But Rosalie couldn't have seen Esme from that angle!" moment.
The plan was too pin Rosalie for the murder, see her hanged, and then in due time the mourning widowers would marry, happily entitled to all the money they couldn't have touched if they'd divorced. Also Rosalie was Catholic so she wouldn't have agreed to a divorce.
The two lovers are confronted, and Esme pulls out a tiny pearl-studded gun from her shoe, says "We tried, my love. I regret nothing" before shooting first Emmett, then herself.
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floorpancakes · 10 months
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say what you want about various things but clamp were kinda cooking when they were like 'if ur not around your gay love interest for like three hours you may just simply eat shit and fall out of a window and die' 😭
#i also enjoy the inherent angst of 'your other crush is actually the death girl' even if hima is sadly not explored much#i enjoy it all as one big gay joke but i also enjoy the fuckjng crazy implications of all of this for watanukis two closest besties#i also just find it sweet that their weird kid hangouts every day kinda mitigate their shit they all cancel each other out#like the universe brought them together to get to be friends....#im not a douwatahima truther but its very cool for those shippers too#im also not a watanuki hima crush denier i just think its funny to laugh at him being in denial of all of his feelings but that#i feel like his feelings for either of them are definitely romantic but to very different extents and natures#i also just rly heavily relate to shoving all your feelings in one direction to not have to explore the elephant in the room#i used to do that a lot#i like the idea that in a minimal drama au his feelings for hima fizzle out to be like the closest friendship like even closer than before#this is also from irl experience. i have a long sordid past of tripping over myself for crushes that become friends or vice versa LMAO#the strongest homies are the ones you wanted to date 5 years ago#i also enjoy the inherent comedy of him calljng his bestie babe and darling and his boyfriend dipshit and dumbass#anyway#i love holic so much but if there was a way they could explore the whole push n pull of having one repel friend vs one danger magnet friend#i would eat that shit up#the fanfic urge strikes yet again#this would've been a twitter post but twitter isnt letting me TWEET!!!!!!!!goddamn#what if himawari was real and she touched elon musk on the arm and he suddenly really wanted to go see the titanic#***explore even more i mean#i ran out of space#the amount of tags i use and how i use them probably gives me away as a tumblr elder#xxxholic
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moinsbienquekaworu · 7 months
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Also. The weird girl in school feeling of both intense jealousy and violent repulsion towards "normal" girls.
#this post brought to you by: the normaler girls i follow on insta and the stories they post#like these three girls. two of them from the same university as me. the other one also french. all in the same city as me#all exchange students at the same uni in england!#but they're going on day trips to london and living their best year abroad#and i'm - what. staying at home and making soup? sleeping and failing to buy postcards?#the warring impulses of jealousy and repulsion.#because. i want to be normal too. i want my life to be simple and nice and easy.#i want to be a pretty girl who's doing it right. i want to have my life together (somewhat) (for my age and status)#i want girlfriends in the straight way who i can have daytrips with.#i long for the simplicity of asking out cute boys and aesthetic study sessions that actually pay off#i am so blindingly jealous of them. they're so much more normal than me. they're doing Girlhood and Womanhood correctly.#but at the same time i would rather die than change so much i'd be that girl#because i am simply not that person. this is not who i am at my core#i do not want to buy startbucks. i don't want relationship drama. i don't want to put all my personal data on instagram#i do not actually want to force myself to fit into the restrictive mold of what normal and socially acceptable girlhood and womanhood are#so i feel both 1) left behind and inadequate like i'm back in middle school#2) but also at peace with the fact that you can't get along with everyone and i'm old enough to find my people now#i mean my housemates are really cool and i have other friends that are also the kind of nerdy weirdo people i hang out with#AND 3) inadequate for general 'i'm a fucking child' reasons#they're independent. they're spontaneous. they're just doing things. they're on the way to adulthood. they're in their early 20s.#what am i then but a child. i don't go out much i don't drink i have this huge aura of no romance#i need structure and plans and i have a lot of inertia#and i thought the adult thing was going well! i'm feeding myself all on my own! i'm planning my days!#i'm doing laundry and cleaning up messes! look at the adult!#she's not done baking but i was expecting much much worse honestly. i was braced for a total crumble#but no we're good. i felt proud of myself#and here i see people having the normal typical year abroad experience. and i'm not#i'm being childish and i'm wasting money doing the exact same thing i'd be doing at home but in england#anyway. 2:30. sleep time. good night#wow i have a ramble tag now
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wandasgf · 8 months
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WEST COAST. mdni. 18+.
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pairings: older!natasha romanoff + f!maximoff!reader
summary: in which natasha agrees to help with a bake sale and you both stumble into admitting your feelings
warnings: legal age gap (natasha is 43 and reader is 22), pining lesbians, top!natasha, bottom!reader, finger sucking, light dom/sub dynamics, fingering, brief daddy kink
wc: 5.7k
a/n: thank you very much for this request, it gave me brain worms, also this is not proof read so :]
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“Come on, Tash, please? Mom said you’d go with me because she’ll be busy with B and T’s school fair.” You practically beg the older woman, holding your cell phone carefully between your cheek and shoulder as you finish mixing up the ingredients for the cupcakes you were baking; it wouldn’t be the first time you dropped it in some cake batter if you weren’t careful. Half of them were for Billy and Tommy’s school fair and the other half were for the bake sale you were helping out with at your university. You had taken it upon yourself to do the baking this year because you knew your mother, Wanda, would be busy with work and getting your younger brothers ready for the fair. They were always very hyper and excitable, it took a lot to round them up. You didn’t really mind though, you did have some extra free time and you always got restless when you truly had nothing to do.
Natasha chuckles on the other end of the phone, “Your mom can say anything she wants, sweetheart. That doesn’t make it true, that just makes her Wanda.” She can practically hear you rolling your eyes as you groan at her response. She’s typing lazily with one hand as the other holds her cellphone, not paying nearly as much attention to her work as she should, especially with the deadlines coming up for this quarter. She can’t help it, though, you rarely call her like this, and when you do she wants to give you as much attention as she possibly can. “Besides, I thought this was something you could handle on your own. You’re a big girl, aren’t you? A little bake sale shouldn’t scare you.”
“Ugh, I’m not scared, you jerk. I just think it would be a little easier if I had someone to help me! And, I want to check out everything else too. I heard the haunted house this year is gonna be amazing! Peter’s working on it with MJ, I just have to go,” you put the phone down on the counter and put it on speaker, not wanting to risk dropping it while you pour the batter into the cupcake tray; that wouldn’t be the first time either. “It won’t be as much fun if I’m by myself, and Kate will be busy trying to make people want to join the archery club. Please? It’ll be so fun, I’ll even give you a cupcake for free.” You try to bargain with her, knowing that she’s always been a fan of your baking since she’s so terrible at it herself.
The bake sale was a part of your university’s fall celebration. Every October, they held a bake sale, a club fair, a haunted house, games and some other things in the week leading up to Halloween. This was your fourth one, and usually, you’d force your friend Kate to help you, but this year she’d agreed to help out with the archery club before you could ask. Not that you minded, because when you brought it up, your mother had absentmindedly suggested that maybe Natasha could help you since she couldn’t, and you would never say no to spending time with the redhead. You don’t know when exactly your schoolgirl crush on your mother’s friend turned into the very real thing it was now. You wouldn’t even say it was a crush because at this point you were certain you were damn near in love with the older woman, but you knew it was something you could never have. So, even as you and Natasha grew closer as you grew older, becoming something akin to friends now that you’ve reached your early twenties, all you could do was cherish the time you got together. 
You can hear Natasha sigh before she responds, “Fine, but you better make it two or I’m leaving before you get to that haunted house.” You’re about to thank her profusely before she speaks again, effectively cutting you off before you even started, “Now, listen, I’d love to stay on the phone with you, but if I’m gonna take the day off tomorrow, I’ve got some work to finish. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” 
You both bid each other goodbye and once you hang up the phone, you smile giddily. Natasha was going to take the day off tomorrow for you. Natasha, who was always busy with work, was going to take the day off so she could help you with your silly fall bake sale. “Oh my God… Oh my God!” You feel like a teenage girl with a crush again, getting so excited over something so simple, but you just can’t help it because you know if anyone else had asked, Natasha would have said no. You check the time to make sure none of your family members would be home soon before you call Kate. You just have to tell her about this. You have to get out all your nervous excitement and giddiness before you see Natasha tomorrow, you’ve always been afraid she could see right through you and your feelings. You didn’t need to be more obvious than usual tomorrow. 
And, yeah, you do make two cupcakes specially for Natasha with red icing because you know it’s her favorite color even though the rest of the icing is orange and black. 
-
Tomorrow comes quicker than both you and Natasha would like. You, because you still don’t know what to wear, and honestly, you’re a little worried Kate might come by and say something stupid. She’s always telling you to just put it out there and let Natasha know how you feel, but you can name at least a thousand reasons why that is the worst idea she’s ever had. Not including when she broke the church’s bell tower by accident when she was a freshman. First and foremost being that Natasha is your mother’s best friend, Natasha is twice your age, and ruining the little platonic relationship that you have with Natasha would hurt you more than when Karolina Dean moved away in the seventh grade when the two of you had what you would now call some sort of situationship. 
And Natasha, because she doesn’t really know why she agreed to do this at all. She really does have work she needs to get done and there’s truly no reason she couldn’t have told you to ask one of your university friends to help you, she knows Kate isn’t your only friend, far from it. Well, the first part of that is a lie– she does know why. She knows exactly why she agreed to help you, she agreed because you asked. What she doesn’t know is what she’s going to do around you today with no one as buffer. No Wanda, no Billy, no Tommy, not even her sister Yelena, it’s just you and her. Sure, there would be other students on campus and coming up to the bake sale table, but in her mind, it’s still just you and her. She doesn’t like when it’s just you and her, because when it is everything feels too real. Suddenly, when it’s just the two of you, there’s no reason for her to hold back. And she knows she needs to hold back, she has to because there’s no world in which you would ever be allowed to be hers. 
You’re holding up different sweaters in the mirror, trying to figure out which looks better with the particular shade of denim you’re wearing, when you hear a knock on your door and your mother walks in. “What’s up?” You turn your head to look at her before turning back to the mirror, still trying to decide. “The one with the brown in it,” she hums, walking over to sit on your bed. She’d always been able to tell just what you were thinking even if you didn’t ask. “You’re overthinking this sweater a lot. Are you sure it’s just Natasha that’s going to be with you today?” You weren’t prepared for her question and your eyes widen just the slightest and you hope she doesn’t notice. “Yeah, just Natasha. Kate’s doing her archery thing, and I think America is helping MJ and Peter with the haunted house.”
“Okay… Well, if there was someone, you know it’s okay for you to tell me, right?”
“Mom!” You groan, she seriously cannot be doing this right now. You’re a grown woman, for god’s sake… but you do appreciate how much she cares for you, you just can’t tell her. Ever.
“Alright, alright! I just wanted you to know. The boys and I are going to be leaving in a few minutes. You should come say goodbye to them, I think they’re going to stay at your father’s tonight...”
You make a noise of agreement, nodding. You know there was a ‘but’ that she wanted to say, but you both knew what it was without her saying it out loud. They were supposed to stay with Vision last weekend too, but that never happened. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 
Wanda squeezes your shoulder as she walks past you, and you wait until she’s shut the door before you let your head fall back slightly, staring up at the ceiling. You can’t help but think she’s known for a while, and you feel slightly nauseous at the fact. If she knows, maybe Natasha does too, and that just can’t happen. 
Natasha arrives a few minutes after Wanda and the boys leave, opting to pull into the driveway when she sees the lack of her friend’s minivan in it. She told you she’d pick you up because it made no sense to take two cars and she had to pass your house to get to the university anyway. She takes two seconds before she turns the car off and gets out. She’s too old to be acting like an insecure teenager, she can do this. She’s dressed for the occasion, wanting to fit into the fall theme, wearing a nice knit sweater and a casual pair of pants. 
Her heart squeezes when you open the door and you’re wearing your own knit sweater, she forgot how cute you looked during the fall. “Tasha! I’ll just be a few minutes, I have to get everything packed up and put my shoes on, but then we can go. Come in!” You’re out of her sight as quick as you stepped into it, wanting to get everything done as quickly as possible. You didn’t want to make her wait. 
“I was hoping you wouldn’t make me stand out here the whole time.” Natasha steps inside, wiping any dirt off of the bottom of her boots on the doormat. She’d take them off, but there’s no point if you’ll just be leaving in a few minutes, anyway. Sue her. “Where are those cupcakes I was promised?”
“They’re on the counter, the red ones.” You call out from the kitchen, you weren’t expecting her so early or maybe you’d lost track of time after you said your goodbyes to everyone earlier. It’s a comfortable silence as you move around the room, packing everything up while Natasha eats her cupcakes, offering to help you every few minutes, but you just wave her off. She wouldn’t usually let you do that, but she was enjoying the food, so she’d settle for not letting you bring anything out to the car, she’d do that herself. 
“Okay, done!” You say, proud of how quickly you’d gotten everything done, and turn to look at Natasha only to find her already looking at you. You feel heat rush to your cheeks and you avert your gaze quickly. “I can see that. You put your shoes on and I’ll bring everything out to the car.” She doesn’t phrase it as a question, but you open your mouth to object anyway, only to be interrupted before you can speak, “It’ll be faster this way, won’t it? Go put your shoes on, cupcake.”
The name leaves you grumbling as you huff and walk out of the kitchen, knowing she’s right. Natasha only chuckles before she starts bringing everything out to her car, making sure that nothing is going to accidentally get squished or have their containers tipped over. Once everything is settled, she grabs the latte from the cupholder in the front seat and meets you at your front door as you’re locking it, “This is for you because I know you spent way too long in the kitchen last night.” 
“Non-dairy?”
“Of course.”
“Then thank you.” You take the cup from her, your breath hitching when your fingers brush and bring it up to your lips to take a drink. “Oh my God, this is good.”
“I figured you’d like it. Now, come on, weren’t you the one who said we needed to get there early?”
-
The car ride passes comfortably, with the occasional small talk, but mostly the radio playing quietly in the background while you sip on your latte and Natasha taps against the steering wheel in time with the song. You find that you don’t need to talk to enjoy your time with her, just being with her is enough. Feeling her presence around you is enough for you to feel relaxed and get that warm feeling that only Natasha can give you. When you arrive and Natasha finds somewhere to park, you take a quick scan of the quad. Thankfully, she was able to find close parking, which is a miracle, really. Your eyes light up when you spot Professor Potts standing near an empty table which you can now only assume is for the bake sale. 
“I’ll be right back, I just have to go talk to Professor Potts for a second.” You point behind you with your thumb and then turn to leave. You only take two steps before you’re turning your head to look at Natasha again, “But, actually, since I know you won’t let me help, you can start bringing everything over to the table. I’ll be right next to it.”
Natasha laughs a little under her breath at how quickly you went from ‘you’re not carrying everything yourself, Tasha’ in the car to ‘actually, you do everything’ now that you were actually here. “Yes, Ma’am.” She teases, and you roll your eyes at her before starting to walk over. 
It doesn’t actually take long for Natasha to bring everything over to the table, and by the time she’s done, you’re wrapping up your conversation with Professor Potts– Pepper, as you usually call her. You were just double checking the details of the bake sale and what the prices were supposed to be before you properly set everything up, but you didn’t think Natasha would be particularly interested in that conversation, so you figured she’d be happy enough to bring everything over while you talked. “Oh! Pepper, this is Natasha. Natasha, this is Pepper. She’s one of the professors who helps run the student societies!”
“It’s nice to meet you, Natasha. I didn’t realize Y/N was bringing her partner today.” Pepper smiles and holds her hand out for Natasha to shake. 
“Oh, she’s n–”
“It’s nice to meet you as well. It was a bit of a last minute thing, something about Kate and archery, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Natasha shakes Pepper’s hand, mirroring the other woman’s smile. 
“Speaking of Kate and archery, I’m sure you two can manage this just fine on your own, because I have to go find her and make sure that her ‘advertising’ of the archery club doesn’t include any actual arrows this time.” Pepper sighs, and Natasha just laughs like she knows exactly what it’s like to deal with Kate’s antics, before Pepper walks off.
You stare at Natasha wordlessly for a couple of seconds, thinking maybe she’s going to say something about the fact that she just implied the two of you are together, but instead she just raises an eyebrow at you. “Are you going to tell me how you want this table set up or am I just supposed to guess?”
“Oh– no, yeah, I’ll help.” Your cheeks heat up as you start telling her where you want everything placed and start to write the prices on the little chalkboard easel Pepper had put on the table. You quickly forget all about the incident as you start setting things up and your friends stop by the table to talk before going to tend to their own responsibilities. You don’t really pick up on the way they all point out Natasha’s presence, meaning to tease you, but you just tell them happily that she’d agreed to help because Kate couldn’t. 
The rest of the bake sale goes on like this until you run out of things to sell, some people making comments about how good of a pair you and Natasha made or saying something about how they didn’t realize you’d have someone with you here today. You seemed to ignore it, not saying anything about it or giving any indication that it made you uncomfortable, but Natasha was quick to pick up on what the implications were. It didn’t help, she realized, that the color palettes the two of you chose to wear complimented each other so well that it looked a little like your outfits were matching. 
The way in which you acted as if these comments were normal and that you might have expected them or even welcomed them makes Natasha’s brain go haywire. She can’t help but think of all the things this could possibly mean, but the final thought her brain lands on is that she can’t help but wonder if it would be wrong of her to bask in this for just a little bit. She had already not corrected Pepper when she implied you were together– though, that was more so because she didn’t want to embarrass either of you. So would it be so wrong for her to lean into that? To let everyone think you were a couple? To treat you like you were her’s for just a little bit? She doesn’t think so. 
You’re in almost a daze as the rest of the day goes by. Natasha takes you to the haunted house like you wanted and holds your hand the whole time so you don’t get too scared. If you had known Yelena was helping inside the house, you might not have wanted to go so bad. She’s still holding your hand when you exit the haunted house, and she continues to hold it when you talk to Peter and MJ when you spot them outside. She lets go when she gets a phone call and gives you an apologetic smile and excuses herself, but not before giving your hand a little squeeze, and you feel your heart leap in your chest. All of this feels too natural, being with Natasha like this. Holding her hand, laughing with her, walking with her. It’s now when you realize just how close you and Natasha have been all day and you stumble in the middle of your sentence while talking to MJ. 
“You okay there?”
“Yeah!” It comes out too loud and too quickly, “yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, you know. Long day and late night last night baking.” 
“Mm… Nothing to do with your woman over there?” MJ points not so subtly over at where Natasha is currently talking on the phone.
Your eyes go wide, “She’s not– she’s not my woman, MJ!”
“You’ve been holding hands this whole time and she’s… here instead of at work,” she gives you a look like she doesn’t believe you at all, “seems like your woman to me.”
“Yeah! Mr. Stark only ever takes time away from work if Ms. Potts asks him to and you know how they are, Y/N.” Peter chimes in.
You feel your face go red hot and you groan, “can we please stop talking about this right now?”
“Stop talking about what?” You jump when Natasha suddenly appears beside you and wraps her arm around your waist. 
“Oh, we were just talking about how scared Y/N got in the haunted house.” MJ lies smoothly before giving you a look. 
“Yes, but now we’re done talking about that and we should get back to our table to clean up properly.” You change the subject, trying not to focus on Natasha’s arm wrapped around you, but it’s lighting your body on fire and it’s very hard to focus on anything else. She squeezes your side softly and nods, “sure. It was nice talking to you, MJ, Peter. Good job on the haunted house.”
You barely let Peter get out a “Thanks, Ms. Romanoff!” before you’re slipping out of Natasha’s hold to grab her hand and practically dragging her away from them. She heard the conversation starting from you stuttering over the implication that you’re together, but for you, she can pretend she didn’t hear a thing. So, instead of bringing it up, she gives your hand a soft squeeze. “It’s okay that you were scared, you know? You don’t need to be embarrassed, Yelena can be pretty terrifying when you actually get a look at her.”
“Tasha!” You scold, swatting at her shoulder, “don’t be mean to your sister,” but you can’t help but giggle just a little bit. She only chuckles, and despite the way you’re both struggling to decide whether to bring your feelings up or not, you settle into the comfortable existence you share with each other. 
Before you know it, you’re in Natasha’s car again and on your way to her house. She said she just had a couple of things to do in her home office before she would take you home again, but she would try to be as quick as possible. Technically speaking, your mother should be done with Billy and Tommy’s school fair and you could just ask her to come pick you up, but you don’t tell Natasha that. You would much rather get to spend some extra time with the older woman (and you love the way her house smells) than go home and inevitably spiral as you think about the day and everything that’s happened with her before calling Kate and spilling everything. 
When you get there, she tells you to make yourself comfortable and help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you want to before she disappears into her office at the end of the hall. You settle down on her couch and scroll through your phone for a few minutes before you start to get bored. You consider the fact that Natasha is working on her day off and think that maybe she’d appreciate a coffee, especially if she didn’t have to make it herself, so you stand up and wander into the kitchen. It’s nice and modern, but it has a few personal touches that make it distinctly Natasha. You notice that the coffee maker is right on top of the counter and you look in the cupboard for a mug before you get started on making her coffee. 
You’re pretty sure that the only thing Natasha likes in her coffee is a little bit of sugar, so you take a little look around the pantry until you find some, and when the coffee is ready, you pour it into the mug before adding a little sugar. You hum to yourself and make sure you haven’t spilled anything on the counter, picking up the mug and then starting the path to Natasha’s office. This all feels so natural, that the usual nervousness of doing something like this for the older woman doesn’t even creep in until you actually see her. 
You knock on the door, waiting a second before opening it with your free hand. “Tasha?” You push the door open and Natasha looks up from the paperwork on her desk to greet you with a smile. “You get bored out there, sweetheart?” She puts her glasses up on the top of her head and turns to look at you properly. 
“I. um, made you coffee. I figured you might want some since you weren’t expecting to have to work today.” You walk towards her desk and when you’re close enough, she takes the mug from you and leans up to press a soft kiss to your lips as a sign of her gratitude, “thank you, sweetheart.”
Your brain short circuits.
She almost drops the mug onto the floor. 
You just look at her, frozen, for a few seconds as you watch the wheels turning in her head. She puts the mug down on the desk carefully as she tries to figure out what exactly she’s going to say now. She hadn’t even really thought about it before it happened, it just felt so natural and like something she’s supposed to and allowed to do. But in reality, kissing you has never been any of those things. She’s never done that before even that one time you got so drunk, you practically begged her to. She’s been very careful with her actions and with restraining herself, but now? What does she do now?
“Natasha...” Your voice comes out almost like a whisper and for some reason, you’re a little afraid that she’ll tell you to leave. That she had just been caught in the moment and she would never knowingly kiss you under any other circumstance. 
Natasha opens her mouth to speak, but then she gets a proper look at you standing nervously in front of her and she mutters a ‘fuck it’ under her breath. “Come here, baby.” She pushes her desk chair out slightly and guides you into her lap without any kind of resistance from you. You fidget in her lap, not used to this kind of proximity with the older woman. “I’m gonna kiss you again, alright?”
With those words, it’s like a switch flips and you surge forward to crash your lips against hers. She lets out a little surprised noise before she kisses you back properly, moving her lips against yours and resting her hands on your hips. She lets you lead for a bit until you get a bit too bold for her liking and she grips your hips harder as a warning. She was in charge, not you, and she was going to make that very clear. 
Almost immediately she’s dominating the kiss, and you tangle your fingers in her hair. Her glasses fall off somewhere behind her, but neither of you really care enough to check where. You only pull away because you need to breathe, and when you do, your chest is heaving and you’re a little dazed. Natasha coos and reaches up to cup your cheek, rubbing her thumb against your soft skin. “Do you need a little break, sweetheart, hm? You look a bit flustered.” She teases before swiping her thumb across your bottom lip, and you grumble slightly, “I’m not–” 
Natasha pushes her thumb into your mouth and presses down on your tongue before you can finish, “ah, ah, don’t talk back to me, Y/N,” she scolds, and you whine quietly. You want to bite down on her thumb in retaliation for the use of your actual name, but you know that will only make things worse for you. Not that things are particularly bad right now, you’d probably take anything Natasha gave you, but you’d prefer her cooing over you and doting on you at the moment. 
Instead, you suck softly on her thumb and you know it’s the right decision when she hums in approval. It was almost too easy for the two of you to fall into this rhythm, like you were meant for each other. You both knew exactly what the other wanted and you’d do anything to please her while she’d do anything to keep you happy. Her other hand squeezes softly at your hip before it begins playing with the waistband of your jeans. “We’ve had a long day, huh? You did so well at the bake sale, you deserve a reward, don’t you?”
You nod, looking at her pleadingly and whining softly. Your clothes feel too warm and you want her to touch you, and she’s wearing too many clothes, and you want to touch her, but her thumb is in your mouth and you can’t just push her away. So, you opt for looking like a kicked puppy until she understands what you want. 
“What is it, hm?” Natasha pulls her thumb out of your mouth and you chase after it slightly until you realize that maybe she wants you to actually tell her and you open your mouth to speak. Your breath catches in your throat, though, when her other hand trails down and cups your clothed cunt. “Do you want me to touch you, is that it?”
“Tasha, please.” You whimper. You can barely feel anything through your jeans and it’s already driving you crazy. You just hope she’s not the type to tease. 
“Alright, alright, arms up.” Natasha chuckles and waits for you to follow her instruction before slipping your sweater off over your head. Her eyes darken as she takes in your bra clad chest and she greedily gropes at your breasts for a moment. “So pretty,” she mumbles, leaning in to kiss softly at your neck.
You moan softly and you clutch at her sweater. Natasha’s hands on you feel better than you ever could have imagined, and you’ve spent more time than you care to admit imagining this. She’s not too rough, but she’s not too soft either. She touches you with the perfect amount of force and it makes your head spin. 
Her hands trail down your chest and then your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before her fingertips dance across the waistband of your jeans. “You looked so cute today in your little fall outfit. Do you know how hard it was for me to keep my hands to myself?” Natasha pulls back, her skilled fingers now moving to unbutton your jeans. “You make things so hard for me, sweetheart. It’s like you’re trying to torture me.”
“I just like to look nice for you, Tasha. Is that wrong?”
“Up.” She taps your thigh, and you stand so that she can tug your jeans down for you to step out of. Normally, you’d be a lot more shy about undressing like this for the first time, but right now you just can’t seem to care. 
Natasha pulls you back down into her lap and then pulls you in for a kiss. Her hands find purchase on your hips and her tongue finds its way into your mouth, easily gaining dominance over you. You moan into her mouth as your fingers tangle in her hair again, trying to pull her impossibly closer. 
And then finally, after what seems like forever, she slips one hand inside your panties. The gasp you let out when her middle finger ghosts over your slit is like music to her ears, and she pulls away from the kiss so she can see your reactions properly. 
“No teasing, Tasha, please.” You whine, your hands dropping to her shoulders. “Shh, I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” She slowly begins rubbing circles against your clit and you’re all whimpers and whines as she does. 
She takes her time, using her other hand to tug the cups of your bra under your breasts so she can play with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them between her fingers all while keeping the same steady pace in slow circles around your clit. She basks in the noises she’s able to pull from you even with the lightest of touches. She considers taking you to her bedroom so she can fuck you properly, but she think she wants ot save that for another day. This will have to do for now. 
“Inside, please, Tasha.” You whimper pathetically, hands bunched up in her sweater as you try to be good like she wants you to. She takes pity on you when she pushes two fingers into your drooling hole. She curses under her breath, “God, you’re so wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me, huh?”
You nod, desperately wanting her to move her fingers. “All for you, Tasha.” You attempt to bounce up and down on her fingers, but her free hand moves down and holds you still. “Please, I can’t– mph!” You interrupt your own begging when Natasha begins thrusting her fingers in and out, the angle forcing the heel of her palm to press against your clit. You bite down on your bottom lip to stifle your moans, embarrassed about how loud you’re being already. 
“That’s it, baby.” Natasha breathes, taking in the sight in front of her with eager eyes, “You take my fingers so well, sweetheart.” She praises, curling her fingers inside of you. You reward her with a particularly high pitched moan and you just barely notice the pink tint of her cheeks. It seems she's enjoying this just as much as you are. Something about having you like this drives Natasha wild. Being able to hear your moans and see the expression on your face makes her almost lightheaded with desire. 
“Oh God, Natasha.” You moan loudly when she grinds the heel of her palm against your clit and presses against the sensitive spot inside you at the same time. Natasha coos, and it doesn’t take long with her fucking you like that for you to get close to the edge. “Tash– I’m gonna– Please–” You beg, pleading for something you’re not even sure of. 
“Shh, I’ve got you, sweetheart. Be a good girl for Daddy.”
Natasha’s words tip you over the edge with the help of her skilled fingers and she guides you through your orgasm, letting you ride it out before pulling out her fingers and bringing them up to her mouth. 
“Fuck, I don’t know if I’m done with you just yet. I might have to take you to bed instead of taking you to dinner.”
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 9 months
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ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS S2 BTS VIDEO! :)❤ 🐍😊
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David: Good Omens 2 will be once more unto the breach...
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Michael: The kind of world that Neil and Terry Pratchett created here. It's... it seems to be expanding out into the world in all kinds of unexpected and and truly joyful ways.
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Douglas Mackinnon (the directior): If Season one was a comedy about the End of the World, Season Two is a comedy about the beginning of everything else.
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Miranda Richardson (demon Shax): The Bromance is continuing.
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Doon Mackichan (Archangel Michael): What a cast, is all I can say, incredible, incredible cast.
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Liz Carr (angel Saraqael): But of course a script of Good Omens is a whole different thing because anything can happen.
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Shelley Con (Prince of Hell Beelzebub): There's always a smirk somewhere around the corner in a Good Omens script.
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Quelin Sepulveda (angel Muriel): I had no idea what to expect, where this character was gonna go...
Liz: I feel quite honored that when they were thinking of the realms of sarcasm they thought of me.
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Gloria Obianyo (angel Uriel): Seven-year-old me is like, 'Oh my God! This is the stuff of dreams!'
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Maggie Service (human Maggie): A whole Fantastical Universe of joy that we just get to playing and you'll get to watch.
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Tim Downie (Mr Brown): I am immeasurably, immeasurably excited.
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Jon Hamm (Archangel Gabriel / Jim): You know I was very pleased when when I was brought back to be a part of that story.
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Neil Gaiman: Ppeople are excited and I'm working so hard to tell them absolutely nothing. I'm very lucky because Michael Sheen and David Tennant love Crowley and Aziraphale. I think the first moment that I saw David and Michael acting together... all of a sudden there was Crowley and there was Aziraphale, it was like seeing two friends who I hadn't seen for years.
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David: There's something about the way Neil sees the mundane that is extraordinary and there's something about the way things filter through his imagination and of course in this world it also sprinkled with the imagination of Terry Pratchett and those two together created this cocktail that is it's unlike anything you've seen anywhere else and yet it feels utterly familiar.
Michael: And they both have a sense of the absurdity of what it is to be a human.
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Rob Wilkins: When you've got David and Michael in front of the camera David and Michael evaporate and you have Crowley in Aziraphale and that relationship it needed it needed interrogating more and of course we all know that Terry and Neil had conversations about what the sequel would be and Neil has taken that and he's blown it up in a way that the viewers are just going to love so what would Terry think? Terry would pat Neil on the back and he would push Good Omens forward, he would break a bottle of champagne over its bows and be absolutely delighted and I know that, I'm the one person on Earth who's been entrusted to know that for certain and I promise you Terry would be absolutely delighted.
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David: We've got some cast members coming back, returning but playing different parts which is a lovely little addition to things isn't it, so Miranda Richardson is back not playing the same role as Season One, she's now Shax, my replacement - Crowley's replacement on Earth.
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Neil: Shelley Conn came in as Beelzebub and it feels in a weird way kind of like a Doctor Who Regeneration. We have a new demon called Furfur played by Rheece Shearsmith who was our Shakespeare in Season One.
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David: Nina and Maggie were two of the Sisters in Season One, The nunnery of Doom, and now they are two characters imaginatively called Nina and Maggie.
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Maggie: In season one really it was just me and the nuns, it was the nun gang, so to actually get to meet Aziraphale and Crowley... I hadn't been prepared for how delightful Aziraphale is.
Neil: Season Two begins about threem four years after the events of Season One.
Michael: Aziraphale and Crowley now are, you know, out on their own, they're.. they're a team to themselves.
Neil: Everything changes when Aziraphale gets an unexpected visitor.
Michael: A familiar face comes along with a mystery that needs solving and as Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to solve that mystery they realize that there are much more terrifying things ahead than they've had to deal with in the past. That involves having to go back through history as well to get clues as to what might be going on.
David: When we go back into these stories set within Aziraphale and Crowley's personal history there are moments within those stories where where their relationships sort of pivots or develops in some way. Himself and Aziraphale I think rely on each other even more in season two than they did in Season One because they are by necessity and by circumstance they're a they're a double act that nobody else can join.
Michael: It's extraordinary to see how important these characters and this story have become to a lot of people and how much people enjoy expressing themselves through art, through fan fiction.
David: I went to a Comic-Con and the amount of Crowleys and Aziraphales that I saw everywhere, the cosplaying just took off, and always in twos, which was joyous because of course the characters in my mind only exist in relation to each other. They are the Ying and the Yang.
Michael: It's such a... I think it's such a compliment and I think Neil feels the same way as well.
Maggie: Always clever Neil Gaiman, isn't he?
Nina: Yeah yeah, you'd have to sort of admit that at some point, yeah-
Maggie: He's quite good at his job.
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fkinavocado · 8 months
Text
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Warnings: 18+, smut, subrry, unprotected sex, friends to lovers
Word count: 7.5k
Pretty like yours
Your eyes were glued to those slutty yellow shorts. You just couldn’t force them to look away. Trusting that your sunglasses would conceal your ogling, you were facing the shoreline- thankfully women had good peripheral vision so you could get away with it. 
But damn, was he hot. Hotter than the scorching sun, setting you afire more than the offending rays. You’d taken a time out from their volleyball game to go reapply sunscreen, but you weren’t sure you even wanted to go back. You had a much better view from where you were sat on the beach lounger. You couldn’t really focus on eyefucking him while you were playing, well, not without making a fool of yourself. And you couldn’t have that.
Not now that Harry was finally single.
God, you’d waited ages for him to finally be back on the market. You’d had the fattest crush on him ever since you met, ever since this whole group of friends from uni had formed, and it’d been absolute torture spending so much time with him knowing you couldn’t put the moves on him.
Not that morals had gotten in your way, no. You would’ve gladly set caution to the wind for Harry, but you just knew you wouldn’t have stood a chance. He’d been a lovesick puppy, to the point where it was actually quite sickening; to the point where your friends had to ask him not to bring his girlfriend along anymore when you all went out together because they were just too sickeningly in love. (You may or may not have been one of said friends). His ex wasn’t part of the group, not attending your university, and so was considered an “outsider”, and none of you ever brought your partners along when you all hung out, so Harry had only ever brought her to parties from then on. Parties you tended to avoid, as you weren’t exactly a huge fan out seeing them make out and get all handsy with each other, more so than they already were, especially a few drinks in.
You took a sip of water that was beginning to get way too warm and then got back to ogling him, planning your attack. You couldn’t help but smile at how he kept trying to move his hair out of his face, the breeze making it difficult for him to actually focus on the game. He’d let it grow out and now it was shoulder length. It made him unbearably hotter (which you wouldn’t have thought possible).
You were snapped out your reverie when you saw Harry wave at you, a smile on his face. You were momentarily taken aback to see him smile, he’d been sulking for the majority of the weekend trip to the beach, so initially you didn’t even realise he was waving at you.
But when he walked away from the group and started heading towards the beach loungers you knew you’d been caught staring. You’d seemingly forgotten to pretend you weren’t looking in that direction after having had some water.
Well, since you’d been caught you didn’t bother looking away as he walked over. At least he couldn’t see the way your eyes scanned him head to toe ever so slowly behind your glasses, taking in every bit of that tan skin, well defined muscles, tattoos on full display, and those offending itty bitty yellow shorts that did nothing to conceal the bulge he was sporting.
He sat down on the chaise next to yours and grabbed the water bottle, grimacing after taking a large gulp. “This is boiling at this point… Hey, you never got back; kinda hard to play a fair game with uneven team players.”
“Eh, wasn’t really feeling it.”
“Did you need help?”
“Hm?”
He looked down your body and you tried not to dwell on how his eyes seemed to have lingered for a tad longer on your boobs before travelling back up to meet your eyes “You said you’d take a time out to apply sunscreen; did you?”
Even you had forgotten you’d used that as an excuse to extricate yourself from the game. “Oh. Hadn’t gotten to it yet, was just… you know, catching my breath for a moment.”
“For a moment.” He flashed his dimpled smile at you, and you forced yourself not to furrow your brows. Was he onto you, had you really been that obvious?
Before you could clear the air, he reached for the bags and fished out the SPF. “Scoot forward, I’ll do your back.”
You did as instructed and felt Harry sit behind you, his thick, muscly thighs on either side of yours with how close behind he was sitting, and then felt him gently sweep your hair over your shoulders and to the front. “The waves look really good on you.”
You were glad he couldn’t see you blushing. It’s not that Harry hadn’t complimented you before, he was very considerate and nice overall- with all of your friends. But you couldn’t help but hope that maybe now that he was single he might start to see you in a different light.
“Thanks. It’s from how I kept it in braids.”
You felt him smooth his big palms over your back after you’d heard him massage the lotion in between them for a while to ensure it wouldn’t be too cold, although you’d have probably welcomed the sensation with how hot it was.
“It’s almost as curly as mine now.”
You tried your best not to make any embarrassing noises with how good it felt to have him massage the lotion into your skin. He moved his hands slowly but deliberately, working the SPF into your skin. It felt heavenly.
“Well, not quite,” you smiled. “Yours grew out so much, H. I was actually admiring it when you walked back here, it really suits you. Though it seemed to be a pain playing volleyball, you should tie it up to keep it out of your face now that it’s long enough.”
“Thanks…” you could hear the coy smile in his voice. You couldn’t understand how this man could grow shy when this whole beach had been eyefucking him since you’d gotten there, and the others hadn’t been nearly as stealthy about it as you’d been.
“Want me to braid it for you?”
Harry’s hands stilled on either side of your waist, squeezing the plush skin there. “Oh? Do you think it’s long enough…?”
You turned to look at him over your shoulder, pretending to assess the length, but really, you just lingered on his lips the most. He was so close. And his lips were so kissable. They had this really pretty, dusty rose hue to them, something men shouldn’t be endowed with to begin with. You had to layer on a number of lip products to get yours to look this good. 
“Yeah. Hop on the sand in front of the chaise and I’ll do it right now if you want.”
You watched those perfect lips stretch into a beautiful smile, his dimples making an appearance as well and stealing your attention for a bit. “Yeah? Ok!” He stood up and did as instructed sitting between your legs now, as you scooted even closer to the edge of the seat. “Wait, don’t forget to put on lotion first.”
“No, I’ll just get my hands all oily, I don’t wanna mess up your hair. I’ll do it after.”
“I’ve never had it braided before.” You could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. “Think it’ll look pretty like yours?”
You bit back your smile, trying to focus on the task at hand. You ran your fingers through his curls first, trying your very best to detangle the hair without pulling at the strands at all. His hair was very soft to the touch, even with how much you’d all been swimming since you’d gotten there. “Prettier. Your hair’s so soft. What’s your secret, hm? Mine is already so stiff with all the salty seawater, but I guess it helped with the waves since I let it dry braided, so I can’t complain.”
Harry didn’t reply. His head was hung back as he rested against the edge of the chaise, and he even let out a breathy moan when you used your nails a bit to separate the strands one from another. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?” you teased.
“I might need you to do this everyday, feels amazin’.”
You softly chuckled and began braiding, making sure to keep his hair taught, pulling on it a bit to get the desired effect, but Harry seemed to really enjoy it. His mouth fell agape and his eyes were closed and you took your sweet time with each braid, savouring the experience as much as he was.
“You deserve it, H… You know, I’m glad you came along this weekend, was afraid you’d skip again. We missed you.”
He fluttered his eyes open at that, and ran his hands up and down his thighs absentmindedly, his knees bent to his chest. Those meaty thighs had made a guest appearance in your dreams more than once, and you eyed his tiger tattoo smiling to yourself remembering one of your more recent fantasies about it. You willed your mind out of the gutter, though.
“You know you can talk about it, if you want, right? I’m here.” You spoke softly, coaxing him to open up to you. Not only to get closer to him, but you were genuinely worried for him. The others loved to tease him about it, but you could tell he was frustrated with how he probably couldn’t confide in any of them, lest he be teased even more for it.
He nodded, careful not to move his head too much and accidentally ruin your handiwork. 
“I can tell you’re heartbroken. Just… want you to be happy.” You finished braiding, tying his hair using the same elastics you’d taken out of your own hair, and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, then circled your arms around his shoulders, hugging him from behind.
He reached to grab one of your hands in his and squeezed it as he leaned his temple against yours. “I’ll be alright… eventually. Right?”
His voice was so small and dejected that it made your own heart break a little. He was hurting more than he was letting on. You knew he’d been with his ex for almost 2 years, and although you hadn’t had such a long relationship yourself, you knew it couldn’t have been easy. You’d also never been in love, so you couldn’t even imagine what he was going through. You didn’t know why they’d broken up, but you had a feeling his ex had been the one to break his heart, not the other way around.
“Of course, H. You’ll be fine. I promise. Don’t you trust me?” You mumbled against his ear reassuringly.
“I do.”
“It’s ok to be sad. But you’ll soon be happy again, happier even. Because you don’t need someone who doesn’t appreciate you, yeah? You’re such a great guy, and anyone who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve you. I promise you’ll find someone who’ll make you forget about her altogether.”
Harry sighed heavily. You weren't even sure he’d listened to any of what you’d told him. He interlocked your fingers and brought your conjoined hands lower, pressing them to his chest, against his heart. “Think it’s ever gonna beat right again?”
You chuckled at how corny he was “Yes, you big ol’ softie, you. Someone will take all the broken pieces and carefully glue them right back together and it’ll be as good as new in no time. Better even, like kintsugi.” He turned his head to look at you confusedly and you explained, “you know, the japanese art of glueing back broken objects with gold.”
You pulled back, grabbed the lotion and stood up. Squirted some into your palms and started massaging it all over your torso. Harry looked up at you and shielded his eyes, and you moved one of your feet between his legs so you’d block the sun from getting into his eyes. “Wanna go for a swim, now that you’re all fit to brave the waves with your new braids?”
Harry smoothed his palm gently over his hair, feeling for the braids, almost as though he’d forgotten all about them. He watched you intently as you rubbed the lotion into your skin, bent at the waist to reach your thighs and now your calves, and when you stood back upright you could’ve sworn his eyes had been glued to your cleavage. Which, in all fairness, you’d hung your tits right in his face- you’d have found it weird if he hadn’t. Heartbroken or not, he was still a man. And you looked good in that bikini, if you did say so yourself.
And he looked good with his hair braided like that, too. There was just something about Harry that made him look hot no matter what, he didn’t even have to look too manly. In fact, that was one of the things you’d always loved about him. He wasn’t afraid to show off his feminine side. He was a pretty boy as much as he was a handsome man. He just knew how to flaunt both sides in equal measure and that made him all that more attractive in your eyes.
You were once more snapped out of your train of thought when you felt his nimble fingers on your ankle, he was touching your ankle bracelet, fidgeting its trinkets. He then wrapped his hand around the ankle and slowly looked back up at you. “No, you go. I’ll head back to the hotel for a bit.”
He then removed his hand and you took a step back to allow him to stand, now towering over you and you wondered whether you’d pushed it a bit too far. He looked… slightly annoyed, and visibly saddened. That frown line erased all his sweet, feminine features and you wished you could just smooth it out, running your fingers over it and caressing all over his face, much like you did with his hair. You almost did so, when he took a step back and then turned towards the hotel that was right across the private beach, a small walk away. 
You let out a breathy sigh. You’d probably been a bit too nosey, he was likely not ready to hear all that yet. He’d just broken up with his ex, and he was allowed to feel sorry for himself and still miss her. 
You got into the water knee-deep, contemplating all this, when you realized you’d used your hairties on Harry, and you really didn’t feel like getting your hair all wet again. Not now that, without the braids, it’d just dry down all wonky and you wanted to keep the waves. Especially with how Harry had complimented you.
With a huff, you walked back to shore and everyone was back at your spot, drinking water and making plans for early dinner. They were contemplating going to a spot by the pier so they wouldn’t have to bother getting dressed, but you opted out. The way Harry had left all dejected didn’t sit right with you, and you feared you’d crossed a line and upset him with what you’d said. You wanted to go make sure he was ok.
“You guys go along, not feeling very hungry. Catch you later.”
“Where’s Harry?”
“I texted him and he didn’t get back to me. Y/N, mind dropping by our room and see if he wants to grab dinner with us? He’ll be even grumpier if he finds out he missed out ‘cause he’s been too busy sulking over Marrisa.”
Sarah elbowed Mitch, “Hey. Come on guys, quit teasing him. He’s clearly very upset over this, and this trip was supposed to help him take his mind off things. Your constant nagging is just making matters worse.”
Mitch rolled his eyes, “It’s been over a month, how long is he gonna moan about it? So what, she cheated on him- life goes on! He needs to get out there and have some fun and put this all behind him.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes at him, and you knew Mitch was in for it. They thought they were being sneaky, but everyone knew they were getting cosy with each other as of late. It was still early days, you could tell, but Mitch might have just dug his grave with this one.
“Yeah, I’ll drop by your room and ask him, he’s probably napping though so I won’t wake him up if that’s the case.”
“I mean… if he’s grumpy we didn’t wake him up for dinner, it’s on you.”
“No pressure,” you gulped audibly for dramatic effect and began walking back to the hotel. You really hoped he wasn’t, in fact, napping, and not just for everyone’s sake. You wanted to clear the air a bit and apologise if you’d struck a chord earlier. 
You were just about to knock when you heard something on the other side of his hotel room. You decided to stick your ear against the door and make sure you weren’t hearing things before actually knocking, and there it was again, only this time, louder. Clearer.
Was he unwell? 
Maybe it was sun poisoning. You felt bad to just walk away without offering to help. So you decided to knock on the door softly. “Harry?”
After a long pause that had you convinced he hadn’t heard you and ready to knock again, you heard him. “...Yes?”
“Are you alright in there?… Can I help? Do you need anything?”
Silence. 
You were starting to grow worried, why wasn’t he answering right away if he could hear you?
“I… I think I do, yeah.”
“What is it? Tell me. You’re worrying me.”
You heard him fumble around a bit and could tell he was getting up from bed and finally, finally, he opened the door the tiniest bit, his body behind it. He looked flushed and a bit sweaty. 
When he wouldn’t speak, his eyes downcast, you reached out to touch his forehead. “You’re warm, what’s the matter? Is it sun poisoning? Or were you having a bad dream? It sounded like you were in pain. Came to check if you wanted to join the guys for dinner.”
“They’re out at dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t wanna go?”
You huffed at his avoidency. “Well can I come in, or are we gonna keep talking in the doorway? Wanted to talk to you, anyway.”
He cleared his throat and stepped back, making room for you to step inside and closed the door behind you, locking it. You raised an eyebrow at the sound, turned around and noticed he was holding the bedsheet tightly around his waist.
“What did you wanna talk about?”
“Yeah, uhm… Earlier, I got the vibe that I might have upset you… with what I said, about Marissa. I know it’s shitty to hear bad stuff about your ex soon after the break-up, like, it never really sits right even if it’s true and even if the person meant well saying those things, to help you move on… I know it’s not how it works. But I was just trying to make you feel better.”
Harry exhaled audibly through his nose, leaning against the doorframe. “I know you meant well. And it was true. I know you’re right, everyone’s right…”
“The guys are being jerks, teasing you like that. But they do mean well…”
"Yeah…” he cleared his throat after a beat, glancing at you from under his thick lashes, a smile playing on his lips. “You were trying to make me feel better?”
You gave him a small smile back “Of course.”
“You offered to help earlier.”
You furrowed your brows, looking around for something amiss. He seemed fine. You’d forgotten all about those noises from earlier. When you looked back at him readying yourself to ask him what was wrong again, he bit his lower lip and pulled the bedsheet off himself.
“Oh… my God.” You covered your mouth in disbelief, your eyes glued to his glorious cock, all hard and heavy. You watched as it twitched at your reaction and you couldn’t stifle a moan at the sight.
Harry’s lips curled up in a smug smile, he was happy with your reaction, if a bit shy. You could tell he was struggling to silence the thoughts that were no doubt running through his mind. He was recently broken up and most probably still in love with his ex. But clearly, he wanted to do something about that. And he wanted your help with it.
“Are you… are you sure?” you decided to risk it and ask, the last thing you wanted was for him to regret this and avoid you as a result.
“Do I look unsure?”
“I mean… depends where I’m looking. Your eyes tell a different story…” you walked closer to him and made sure to keep eye contact, as much as you wanted to keep staring at his naked body. You wanted to feel him out and also show him you were being mindful of his emotions.
His gaze darkened a bit, staring at your lips. “Came back here to feel sorry for myself, but I couldn’t stop picturing you from earlier… in this skimpy little bikini.” His eyes raked down your body, using the opportunity to get a good eyeful of you upclose. “I was imagining you’d followed me back here. Got a semi at the beach with how you ran your fingers through my hair, loved it when you pulled at the strands a bit… was imagining you doing it on purpose, to tease me. I know you…” he lowered his eyes again, a shy smile on his lips “I know you are a bit more dominant... you’ve mentioned it a few times. I’ve always been curious about that, never had anyone boss me around in bed. I’ve wondered what it’d be like, and it always gets me so hard…”
“...Always?” All of this was a shock to you, but here he was implying he’d fantasised about you before.
“I sometimes used to catch myself fantasising about you… and I willed those thoughts away.” You watched as he grabbed himself, stroking lazily, shuddering at the contact. “But now that I don’t have to anymore… it’s you, everytime I touch myself.”
You were stunned. And also, you couldn’t get your eyes off of how he was stroking his cock. Had he been doing this ever since he’d gotten to the hotel room? “You’ve, uhm… you’ve been back here a while.”
“Yeah. It’s getting painful. But I love edging myself,” he shrugged and lowered his gaze. He was just unbearably hot when he acted all shy like that. And you knew it wasn’t just an act, he really was like that, he’d always been like that. Both cocky and shy in equal measures, much like his feminine side. It was a heady mix. “Although, I’m pretty sure I’d love being edged more,” he added, his voice small.
“You really were thinking about me?” you whispered, getting even closer, close enough that your noses were almost touching.
He nodded, causing the tips of your noses to touch just like you’d foreseen. “Is that so wrong? So… soon? And even before… I didn’t mean to. I tried not to. I always told myself I was just curious about being with someone more dominant. But it’s not just that. It’s you.”
Damn. 
Feeling like that was more than enough confirmation that this wasn’t just a hasty, heat of the moment thing that he’d regret later on, you bridged the small distance and moulded your lips to his. 
And with how shy he tended to get, you expected him to be hesitant and tentative but Harry grabbed you by the hips and pressed you flush against his naked frame, making sure you felt exactly how hard he was against your belly. You couldn’t even really focus on that, not when his tongue was licking gently at your lower lip, begging for entry, which you welcomed with enthusiasm. He was such a naturally good kisser, none of it felt mechanic in the least, he wasn’t trying to impress, wasn’t trying to keep it nice and contained, he was giving it his all without being overwhelming. Sloppy, but still intense. You felt dizzy already.
It was such an overload of feelings. The smell of him so upclose- he’d been running around the beach in the sun and his natural scent mixed with saltwater from the swimming was making you dizzy; the way you could feel his breathing fan your cheeks; feeling him solid and real underneath your palms as you steadied yourself, snaking your arms around his neck- it was all making you feral. You’d imagined this so many times but this was so much better than you’d ever allowed yourself to fantasise.
You pulled back a bit, making a mental note of doing this right, making it good for him. You wanted to show him how good you could be for him, wanted to get him hooked on you now that he’d gotten a taste. You didn’t know whether this would just be a one time thing, or if it’d turn into something casual, a friends with benefits type of situation perhaps, or maybe even more than that. You didn’t want to dwell on it yet. You were perfectly fine with any of the options, in truth. It was Harry, not a random bloke, and as open minded as you were, still, you weren’t the kind to just sleep around. You knew that, with him, it’d never feel cheap or meaningless. 
“Tell me what you need, Harry. Wanna hear you say it.”
And there it was, his shyness was overcoming him again, and you didn’t allow him to look away, not when you reached out and grabbed his cock from in between you, stroking it gently, mindful of tugging too hard on his soft yet dry shaft.
His mouth fell agape and his eyes rounded with lust, and when you swiped at the precome at his tip he squeezed his eyes shut to compose himself. “I just need you. Need you to make me feel good, however you see fit.”
“Yeah, want me to take the lead, then? Make all the decisions, have you not worry about any of it? Order you around, dominate you?”
He nodded, resting his forehead against yours and then chasing your lips with his and you tutted, “Ah, ah. Be a good boy, then. If you want something, ask for it.”
“Okay.” His voice was small and whiney, he was gone. “Can I keep kissing you, please?”
You hummed your approval “There’s a good boy.” You hovered over his lips, still tugging at him nice and slow, making him pant in anticipation. “Go on then, kiss me.”
You got lost in the kiss. It felt too good to be just a kiss, you were wondering how you were going to handle more. And more seemed to be exactly what he had in mind as well, his hands starting to roam gently over your body. “Ah, puppy, you were doing so good. Hands behind your back until you learn to ask, alright?” He complied reluctantly, visibly frustrated because he’d really wanted to cup a feel, but also just as visibly excited to do things on your terms and finally get a taste of what this new dynamic might feel like.
“Tell you what, I”ll let you kiss what you can’t touch yet, how’s that sound?”
He whimpered at the sound of that and you walked back towards the bed and sat at the edge. “Go on then, on your knees pretty boy.” You willed yourself to take it slow, make it a pleasurable experience for him- a memorable experience. Reminded yourself to pay special attention to his body language, as he wouldn’t know to communicate if he wasn’t entirely comfortable with any of what you planned on doing. This was uncharted territory for him. You had to be responsible and make him feel safe at his most vulnerable. So, you couldn’t lose yourself in it and dive right in, as you would with people that have toyed with powerplay before. 
You couldn’t wait to have your way with him, but as it just so happens, you were also very much into edging as well, so, really, it was a win-win.
You parted your knees for him to kneel in between and then moved your hands behind your back, untying your bra and slowly peeling it off of your torso. His eyes darkened considerably at the sight of your bare breasts, and his hands came to rest over your thighs as he got closer, growing a lot more impatient. You swatted them away, “Hands behind your back, Harry. Don’t make me have to tell you again.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry– I just… Fuck, Y/N,” he shook his head, trying to calm himself down, hands obediently behind his back. “Can I taste, then? Please?”
You smirked at him, happy to see he was playing along as you’d hoped “Of course you can, baby. Been waiting for you to wrap those pretty pink lips around my nipples. Go on then,” you brought his head closer by the back of his neck, guiding him towards your left breast and he immediately latched onto it, sucking greedily, his mouth nice and warm and wet, making you throw your head back. “Oh god, so good. Love your mouth, puppy.”
Harry looked blissed out, alternating between sucking on your nipple and licking all around it, mouthing at the underside of your boob and over to the other one, lathering them both in his saliva, wet and noisy and perfect, just like you knew he’d be. “Been waiting for this?” He mumbled against your bud watching for your reaction, and even though he was trying to tease a bit you could see vulnerability in his eyes as he waited for your reply.
You nodded, biting your lower lip “Have had the fattest crush on you ever since I can remember. Fuck, I could come from this alone…” you whined, he was really good at this. But then again, you always knew he’d be. Just because he hadn’t explored his subby side didn’t mean he hadn’t explored everything else. “Don’t act surprised. I’m sure it was painfully obvious,” you murmured, your turn to feel shy.
That made him moan against your breast, biting on the plump flesh and no doubt leaving a bit of a mark and you allowed it, since you loved it so much anyway. “Wish I’d known sooner.”
You didn’t dwell on it for too long. You couldn’t allow yourself to, didn’t wanna catch the wrong idea and get ahead of yourself. Maybe you’ll talk about it later, but right now? Right now he was working you up into a frenzy. “Well, you know about it now. What’cha gonna do about it, pretty boy?”
“Whatever you want me to do.”
You sunk your fingers between his braids and tugged at the roots a bit, unlatching his mouth from your breasts. The lewdest moan left his lips before you pulled him in for another sloppy kiss. He was growing needy and you could practically see him slip further and further into his subspace. “Love this greedy mouth, H. What else can it do, hm?”
“Please, Y/N. Let me eat that pussy.”
You smirked, that was music to your ears. “Good boy, puppy. Love it when you ask nicely. You gonna lap me up, make me come on your tongue?”
“Please, please.” He reached to kiss you again and you laughed against his mouth.
“Greedy puppy. Remember you need to ask first. You’ll learn though, won’t you?”
“I’ll do anything. I’m sorry, I will. Just– please...”
“You can use your hands to hold me open, but I only want your mouth on my pussy. Alright? I’ll let you know when you can do more.”
He nodded vigorously against your lips and kissed you a few more times for good measure before pulling back a bit and watching as you untied your bikini from the sides, pulling the damp fabric off of you and finally exposing yourself to him fully.
You scooted back a bit, leaning on your elbows and gestured for him to have at it. With laboured breathing, he glanced at you for a second before he pressed his hands against the undersides of your thighs and planted the soles of your feet on the edge of the bed, spreading you open for him.
He moaned loudly at the sight, his eyebrows pinching together as if in pain. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re dripping for me. Fuck, fuck…”
“Do something about it, then.” Your own voice was starting to betray just how far gone you were as well. You were gagging for it now, but you were hellbent on dragging this out for his sake more than yours. All you wanted was for him to sink that glorious cock inside of you and end your suffering, but you could wait it out a bit, especially when it meant watching him stare at your pussy as though it was his favourite dessert.
He wasted no time, bending over you and dragging his tongue slowly up your folds in one delicious swipe. He wrapped his lips around your clit, humming loudly against it, and your head fell back, crying out your pleasure when he started lapping at you in earnest. He made sure to sink the tip of his tongue ever so slightly into your weeping hole on each pass, then dragged it back up focusing on your clit again.
He ate you out like he was kissing you, same sloppy, yet intense, unpracticed manner. He just did what felt right to him and what he found you were most responsive to. Right off the bat, you could tell you were done for. This man ate pussy like it was his favourite cheat meal. 
“So good, Y/N. Fuck, I’m losing it.”
“Wanna use your fingers, pretty boy? Slide one or two inside of me, feel me out? Coat those pretty, painted nails in my juices?”
Harry whined “Pretty like yours?”
“Prettier,” you smiled remembering your same reply from earlier on the beach.
A strangled moan escaped his lips as he buried his face against your core and nuzzled your clit with that perfect nose of his. He was hellbent on getting you off, and truth be told, you were holding off your orgasm. Nobody had gotten you there quite as fast before.
“Do it then, get me nice and ready for that big fat cock of yours.”
He groaned, resting his forehead against your thigh momentarily, then shook his head smilingly. He was both in agony and ecstasy, the anticipation visibly killing him. He brought his middle finger to his mouth, sucking on it, getting it all nice and wet and you caught his wrist before he brought it to your weeping core, wrapping your own lips around it first.
He cried out as though you’d just taken his cock in your mouth instead, which was exactly what you’d hoped for. “Now get to it, baby. Wanna soak those fingers.”
“Fuck. Yes, please.” He got right to it, running his finger through your folds before finally sinking it inside you, agonisingly slowly. “So tight, fuck, Y/N. Can’t wait to bury myself in this snug little pussy…”
He leaned back in to suck on your clit as he began petting your front wall with the pad of his meaty finger and you collapsed on your back completely. When he added a second finger, you lost it.
“So good, Harry. Fuck, you’re so good. Eat that pussy just right. Gonna come all over your pretty face.”
“Please, please do it, Y/N. Need it.” He whined, increasing the speed of his thrusts and pressure he applied to your g-spot. He lapped and sucked on your clit noisily, moaning everytime you clamped around his fingers, getting closer and closer to your release.
And when you finally came, he kept at it, burying his face flush against your pussy and lapping up all your juice like a starved man. You knew if he kept going you’d come again, but that would take too much out of you and you still wanted him to fuck you.
You wasted no time, bending to kiss his lips in gratitude while you still felt some of the aftershocks run through you. “Need you inside me now, baby. Want you to ruin me, think you can do that?”
He nodded against your lips, smearing your arousal all over your own face as well and he then went to kitten-lick it off of you as you crawled back on the bed, pulling him with you. “I can, I know I can. Let me be good for you, Y/N.”
“You’re so good for me, H. Made me see stars with how good you are. I just know once you sink inside me you’ll ruin me for everyone else. Want you to.”
Harry looked as though he was high. As though he couldn’t believe what he was experiencing was actually real. He looked dazed out and he was sweating, panting heavily in anticipation. “Been edging myself for a while, and I almost came when I had my mouth on you. Dunno how long I’m gonna last… will you give me another chance if, if–”
You chuckled softly at how frenzied he seemed “I won’t mind if you come fast, puppy. Just ask me for permission before you do, alright? We got all the time to play, and I still wanna suck you off, too. The only reason I haven’t yet is because I knew you’d not last long and I wanted to edge you a bit first, since you told me you’d like it. Did you not like it, baby?”
“I loved it, love you telling me what to do, when to do it. Never had this before. Never knew how much I needed it. Please, Y/N, I need to be inside you.”
You opened up your thighs even more for him “Rub that pretty cock all over my pussy, Harry, get it nice and wet.”
He bit his lower lip, positioning himself right at your entrance and wrapping his hand around himself finally. He squeezed tightly, trying to compose himself a bit and then dragged himself between your folds just like you’d told him to. He slapped his tip against your clit a few times which made you arch your back and then felt him at your entrance, the stretch already making you clamp around his tip.
“Go on, puppy, fuck me good. Want to feel you all the way up into my belly.”
Harry groaned loudly at your words and the feel of you engulfing him perfectly. Once he got his fat head past your entrance, and you clamped down on him on instinct, he pulled back, making you cry out. 
“Sorry, sorry! Fuck, that was–”
“It’s alright baby, try again, I know you can do it. Know you can hold off a bit, be a good boy, hm? I need you so much.” You whined, pulling him in for a kiss and giving him a moment of reprieve to gather his bearings.
He didn’t even need to guide himself into you, he was hard enough to push right in, and you didn’t break the kiss as you moaned into each other’s mouths. You let him kiss you as he slowly worked his way inside you, all the way to the hilt and you threw your head back when he pushed against your cervix deliciously. “Fuck me, you’re so deep; gonna be so sore, Harry. Make it hurt, baby, come on.”
Harry gritted his teeth, mustering all his stamina to focus. He was too far gone to tease, and so were you, so he sat back on his haunches and threw your legs over his shoulders, thrusting into you at a fast, steady pace. He held your hips tightly at first, then moved his large hands lower under your bum, lifting it off the mattress and working you over him to meet his thrusts all the more intensely. You cried out, it was a lot to take in. He was quite large and girthy as it was, and he was rock hard. But it hurt so good.
When you reached your hand to rub your clit, Harry groaned so loud you thought he was coming. But he pushed through, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on holding off. “None of that, puppy. Look at me. Look what you do to me. Gonna come for you again, I’m so close. Please. If you’re a good boy I’ll let you come all over my tits… you know… since we skipped the rubber.”
Harry’s eyes went from blissed out to shocked, his movements slowing down considerably- he’d clearly absolutely forgotten all about protection.
“Relax, H. I’m on birth control. And I’m clean.” And, you’d totally forgot about it too. So you couldn’t let him take all the blame for being reckless.
Harry choked out a sigh of relief. “I am too! Got tested after I found out she’d been cheating… Fuck, I’m so sorry, Y/N… we hadn’t been using any, she was on the pill… It totally slipped my mind–”
You took the opportunity to flip him over and straddle him. “Shhh. Enough of that. You’ve been so good for me, baby. Just sit back and let me take care of my good boy.”
You wasted no time getting you both back on the brink of orgasm. Harry even brought his thumb to your clit, as his large hands held you flush against him, coaxing you to grind yourself on him as deep as he would go, remembering to ask for permission first, which made you whimper and praise him for being so well mannered. 
“Please, Y/N… wanna be good for you… but–”
“Wanna come, puppy?”
He nodded frantically “I’m gonna burst, it’s too good… you’re too good. You feel amazing. You’re such a wet dream, Y/N.”
His voice was raspy with need. You could tell he was trying his level best to wait for you to come, and you decided to have mercy on him “Beg. Beg for me to let you come, Harry.”
He threw his head back, his muscles taut, struggling to hold off. “Please, please… Fuck, I’m desperate, please baby…”
“Hmmm… should I? I haven’t come yet…” you teased, clamping down around him to push him over the edge. 
But you gasped in surprise when he pulled you flush against him, holding you tight, and started thrusting into you with wild abandon as he panted into your ear “I’m begging. Come for me, Y/N. Please. Need you to come. Give it to me.”
You lost it. The sudden flip in demeanour had you spiralling, and he was fucking into you so good, the angle just right, that it threw you over the edge, taking you completely by surprise. You’d been extremely close, but the way he went about it had made you come instantly.
Feeling you spasm all around him and hearing you moan and whimper loudly had him join you immediately. You were both crying out your pleasure, and it was downright pornographic. You’d kept it at a reasonable volume throughout, seeing that you were in a hotel room and knowing your friends might come back from dinner any moment, but neither could hold back when you finally reached your peaks.
Harry kept you flush against him as you both tried steadying your breathing and your heartbeats and then searched for your mouth, giving you a lazy kiss. “Sorry for not asking permission… at the end, there.”
The hint of mischief in his voice wasn’t lost on you. You hummed, biting his lower lip teasingly “Guess I’ll have to punish you for that.”
A smirk tugged at his lips as he gently placed a loose strand of your wavy hair from over your sweaty temple to behind your ear “Was hoping you’d say that.”
lhh Masterlist
A/N: missed writing for my favorite muse! and it's my first time writing subrry! hope i did him justice ❤️
💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌
🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋
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keksalot404 · 3 months
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Uh oh! Some BOZO decided to play UNDERTALE and UNDERTALE YELLOW at the same time (Both games FUN value was 66) and now the timeline is F*CKED (By about one year; It wasn't that long till Frisk came along)
This is the Guide to UNDERTALE ROM LEAK, mostly a frame of reference for me and you regarding this AU born from a doodle and a dream. Those who just want to see the art with no context, feel free to click the top pic and swipe down or something.
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A Tale of 2.5 Souls
Seems like whatever the reason Frisk went to the mountain, they ended up tailing Clover, where the game begins. Control between the 2 fallen children is split, meaning that both Frisk and Clover are free to express their quirks and personalities more.
Adding to that, NarraChara is also here, being visible to Frisk, Clover, AND the player due to more determination in the area. Frisk still has higher DT than Clover, so they're in charge of LOADing and SAVEing as well as playing leader.
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Prepare For Trouble, Make It Double!
Now obviously the timeline can't really be UT or UTY if all major events need to be dealt with. The universe's solution? Now every Major Character (and perhaps minor ones) are paired up with their cross game counterparts. While encounters for each monster can be seperate, eventually they will cross paths with eachother and the fallen humans.
With each section of the Underground now longer with even paired area newly connected (More on how that works later), it'd feel like even 2 player characters can't make it easy. Fortunately for a certain route, you may get some help...
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Kanako
To fill a void for a Certain Short Scientist, seems fate pulled a few strings, and brought a new friend back from near-death! If you don't kill any monsters during RUINS, Kanako will sense your pure hearts and join the party, acting as the Ralsei to this Diet Fun Gang.
With healing and shield magic, she'll make your journey a lot more manageble, at the cost of not being able to kill any monsters all the way until Asgore (She will still allow you to spare monsters by lowering health but if she senses a chance to kill she will block the attack and scold you for it.)
Being a much more attentive protector than the Skeleton, she'll accompany Frisk and Clover through the emotional highs and lows of their journey, and perhaps maybe...
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You'll find out the true reason she's helping you.
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Stronger Monsters
For the characters of the 2 timelines being destined to meet, it is also true that destiny will point into blocking your path. For the Major Battles at least, you'll have to fight both of them at the end of each paired areas. An example being meeting North Star in Wild East only for Starlo's betrayal being calling Undyne to hunt you during Waterfall.
Expect combo attacks, fused soul modes, and complex strategies when facing the duel bosses. Some might even compromise Kanako from assisting. No fight has the same solution as the UT and UTY fights (except maybe Papyrus and Martlet), so be prepared and stay determined!
So have fun while you can, won't you? It's not likely you will get these games together again. You wouldn't waste this once-in-a-while experience just to do something you'll regret.
You wouldn't waste it just to see what happens...
...right?...
...
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words-4u · 7 months
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as you wish - j.l
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wc: 1.5k
a/n: down horrendous for jordan i’m going through it
warning: 18+ smut, swearing
you were jordan’s favourite thing in the world and they would do anything for you. so when you first got together and you wanted to take things slow, it wasn’t an issue.
but then four months passed, five months, six months and the most the two of you have done was dry hump. jordan would never rush you or push you into having sex but they wanted you, all of you, so bad and they were losing their mind with lust.
what jordan didn’t know was that you were just as horny as them. you constantly thought about how good it would feel to have their head in between your thighs but you were nervous, that’s what it all boiled down to.
jordan had mentioned previous partners, a couple fuckbuddies and one serious relationship, which you didn’t mind because of course people wanted them, how could they not?
you, on the other hand, have had zero sexual experience, the kind that actually matters when you enter university and kissing a classmate behind a bush when you were 11 doesn’t count in your books.
so month after month you held off on having sex with jordan because you were unsure of what to do but your desire for jordan has now outgrown your silly little fear.
you sat alone in jordan’s room as they finished their last class of the day. you had plans later that evening with some friends to catch a movie but until then you decided to kill some time by reading in jordan’s room since it has the best natural lighting.
you were so immersed in your book, you didn’t notice jordan come in until the bed dipped and they were kissing your neck.
“oh hello,” you said bringing a hand into their hair as they smushed their face into your neck.
“sorry, you just look so good on my bed reading… the secret diary of anne boleyn?” they asked peering into your lap where the book laid faced down.
“leave me alone, you know how much love history!” you chuckled as jordan sat against thier headboard and pulled you into their lap.
now straddling them, you toyed with the back of their necklace as they peered into your eyes.
“what?” you said in a hushed tone.
“nothing, you just have really pretty eyes,” jordan continued to stare into you with their intoxicating eyes. you started to get shy under their gaze so you broke it by leaning in for a soft kiss.
there couldn’t be a more perfect moment than this one. it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world. you often felt that way with them but today was different.
“jordan, i-i think I’m ready,”
it took a second for what you said to register with jordan but once it did, their eyes widen a little.
“are you sure?”
you nod in confirmation. “i want to have sex.”
that statement went straight to their dick making it twitch in their pants.
“say that again,” they said as they moved you off their lap and onto the bed hovering over you.
“please fuck me,” you said grabbing their neck and kissing them with a certain passion. jordan had found a comfortable spot between your legs.
“as you wish,” they whispered as they bucked their hip into yours.
you lifted their sweater a little, hands roaming their flat and hardened chest, before jordan took it off completely. you held yourself of using your forearms and enjoyed the view. you’ve seen jordan shirtless plenty of times but knowing they were going to fuck you in a few minutes made the view so much better.
“i think you’re wearing too many layers,” they smirked which prompted you to take off your shirt and bra with no hesitation.
“you’re so fucking gorgeous,” they muttered before encapsulating a nipple into their mouth. a sinful noise left you as their tongue expertly swirled around your breast. their hand showed the other the same amount of attention, rolling the nipple between the pads of their fingers.
impatience got the better of you and before you knew it, you took jordan’s hand brought it down to your core making them cup you. jordan lifts their eyes up at you and you nod. you moved your hands down your body slipping of your jeans and panties along with with it. jordan’s fingers ran through the wetness that had built up, a moan echoed around the room as they circled your clit slowly.
“i’m going to take such good care of you babe, just relax,” jordan whispered in between kisses.
you listened to them, focusing on the feeling of their fingers now teasing your entrance.
“please, please just fuck me,” you begged, making them slip a finger into you, your hands moved to hold onto their back as they gradually increased their pace of thrusting their finger into you, making you moan their name.
“fuck,” you groaned, throwing your head back as they curled both inside you before kissing your lips one last time and making their way down your body once again.
you watched with lust-filled eyes as they kissed down your stomach and hovered over your core, hot breath fanning over your dripping centre.
“is this ok?” they asked kissing your inner thighs, you hastily replied with a breathy ‘yes’ to make them continue. their mouth soon sucked on your clit, back arching and an even louder moan erupting from the back of your throat while they ate you.
with the feeling of them pumping their fingers inside you, combined with their tongue swirling around your clit and them moaning against your core at the taste, it didn't take long for you to reach your orgasm.
“uuuh, jordan!” you yelled out, a rush of euphoria washing over you. you shook as you came down and jordan came back up you body. their face covered in your juices and you felt almost embarrassed.
“look at you,” you laughed hiding your face behind your hands.
jordan shook their heads, “don’t be embarrassed. that was the hottest shit i’ve ever seen.”
they slowly removed your hands from you face and kissed you sloppily. you definitely tasted yourself on their face.
“see? you taste so good,” they smiled smugly.
with a quiet laugh, you pulled them down for a full kiss, tongue immediately pushing into their mouth as they echo your laughter.
it quickly turns into a moan, as does yours when they grind their hips into you before they reluctantly tear themselves away, a small smirk appearing on their face. 
jordan unbuckled his belt getting rid of his jeans and reached over you to grab a condom from their nightstand drawer.
“so just have those in there?” you asked eyeing the the small plastic squares.
“bought them a month ago. i was feeling hopeful,” they responded sheepishly which made you laugh a little.
“presumptuous… but safe. i’ll let it go for now.” you watched as they sit back on to their heels to slide it on.
they are sweet with the way they checked in with you again, hand returning to your cheek. they smile when their fingers run over your lips. you nod, quietly giving your consent once more, and they help you to spread your legs wider so that they could fully lay between them.
they dragged their cock through your folds, catching your earlier orgasm on the tip to slick the way, and with a deep breath, they pushed in.
touching jordan this way, feeling them this way, is something you've been thinking about since the first time they kissed you.
they were sweet in the way that they went slow as they patiently waited for you to adjust and feel comfortable, and it's not long before they’re completely inside you.
they leaned down to kiss you, lips caressed yours softly at first before it shifted into something a little more heated, more passionate.
"you're doing so well for me, babe," they said against your mouth, and the words make you sigh in response, hips once again rocking into you. "you feel so good. does it feel good for you too?"
“so good,” you told them truthfully, hand running down their back. “you fit so well.”
you felt their mouth split into a grin against yours, and you couldn’t help but let out another groan when they pulled out slightly before pushing back in.
jordan looked so beautiful pressed against you, damp hair resting on his forehead. you reached up and pushed the hair out of their eyes and trailed your fingers down their cheek as they continued to slide in and out of you.
you pulled them close and whispered some encouragement as their thrusts became erratic and they let out a deep breath. they felt even more amazing inside of you as their cock filled you with their release, coating both of you with slick warmth as they continued to move.
they gradually slowed their movements, panting in utter relief and pleasure as they came to a halt, resting inside of you with a few lingering twitches. you wrapped your legs around theirs, holding them close for a moment as you soaked in euphoric thrill.
“how was that?” you sighed making yourself comfortable in the bed. jordan joined you, putting an arm around your shoulder pulling you into them.
“are you sure you’ve never had sex?” they joked prompting you to playfully smack their chest.
“i’m so happy we did… finally. i love you, j.”
“love you more, y/n/n”
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helen-with-an-a · 1 month
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I am an Adult pt 3
Hi. So I wasn't planning to do a part 3 of the series but I got a request and it was really cute/funny so I thought why not ahaha.
Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4
Word Count: 3.3k
Description: R gets a girlfriend
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It took a lot of work to find the right balance. The give and take, knowing where to push and where to pull. That fine line between knowing when to go to the team for help and doing it yourself.
After the events of last Spring, you had been better at relying on the girls for essential things, and they had been better at asking you about them without nagging. You sent a picture of critical legal dates to Alexia, who would set a reminder to ask you about them a week or so before the actual deadline. Lucy helped you figure out meals if you asked for them. Irene helped you stock and restock your pantry and cupboards throughout your house when you were stuck on what to keep multiple or spares of. Marta helped out with your schedule if you felt a little overwhelmed. They felt like they were checking up on you and helping you without you feeling smothered. It was fantastic.
And then you got a girlfriend.
Initially, Your crush was slight, something you could repress and squash down. But then you played her in the Champions League group stages. Wolfsburg and Barcelona were drawn in the same group by some bizarre coincidence or the universe interfering in your love life.
Lena was so sweet and kind; it was crazy. You first interacted when you had to do some media together. UEFA media decided to do ‘head-to-head’ videos where some players from each team had to do videos, interviews, and challenges together. And with another stroke of luck – or divine intervention once again – you and Lena were paired together. You were caught off guard by how gentle she was. On the pitch, she was a force to be reckoned with solid tackles and her fearlessness of a yellow card. That was the only impression you had of her. Of course, you had stalked her social media for months, so you knew she seemed like a fantastic friend. But off the pitch, it was like a switch had flipped. She was so soft, it was unreal – always asking if you were ok with the questions she was asking and checking in with you after challenges. It was making your head spin in the most fantastic way.
“What do I do?” You asked Ona over coffee. She was the one person you trusted with this secret.
“Well, well, well. Where has the confident, cocky, ‘I’m so good with girls’ Y/N gone?” She joked. You had never experienced these feelings before, and you were panicking slightly.
“Ugh, never mind. If you’re just going to make fun of me-” you shook your head, starting to gather your things.
“No, wait, hey, c’mon. Do you seriously like her?” Ona grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving.
“I … I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t do relationships. I never have. It’s just been one-night stands and friends-with-benefit type things. Casual sex. Never anything more. I don’t do more.”
“Well, neither do I,” Ona cut in. You raised an eyebrow at her.
“Want me to tell that to Lucy?” You said sarcastically, chuckling at her deep blush. “Ona, c’mon, I’m serious. I really like her,” you all but begged.
“Ok, ok. No hay necesidad de preocuparse. If you really like her, just ask her out for coffee, or dinner, or to the movies, or something. Just be your normal self. You know you have game. I’ve seen the number of girls you’ve brought back after nights out. So just be your charming self, flirt a little, and ask her on a date.” You nodded at her words. Flirting, you could do. Charming, you could do. Asking her out on a date … you hoped you could do.
You asked her out after the first leg. It was in Barcelona, so you messaged her to see if she wanted to see the sights. You knew she wasn’t going home until 2 days after the match, so on her off-day. You knew it was slightly unconventional to ask someone out via text, but you think you might never do it if you asked in person.
[Initial]💙❤️: Do u want to go to see some stuff in Barcelona with me on ur day off?? x
L💚: By rselves? Like a date???
[Initial]💙❤️: Yes x
[Initial]💙❤️: Would u like to go on a date with me on ur day off??
L💚: Yes
L💚: I’ll send you the hotel details. I could meet u at like 10? 11?
[Initial]💙❤️:  I’ll pick u up at 10 outside the hotel – wear comfy shoes!!! <3
L💚: Can’t wait 😁
The day was beautiful; you took her to a little bakery for breakfast – laughing a few hours away over good coffee and excellent food. You then spent the morning doing the touristy things before having lunch at a tapas place, again not noticing the time passing as you giggled and sent longing stares at each other. The afternoon was filled with more happiness as you showed her the quieter spots and your favourite places to relax. Dinner was a classic paella, finally drawing up the courage to hold her hand on your way back to drop her off.
You were just around the corner from her hotel when you pulled her to stop.
“Um … I had a perfect day today.” You said as you shuffled closer,
“Me too,” she replied, softly pushing some hair away from your face. You licked your lips, staring at hers. She slowly leant in, her eyes flicking between your lips and eyes. You leant in, too; you were so close to kissing her – one slight adjustment at you would be.
A car horn sounded right next to you, making you both spring apart. Fuck!
“I … um … I better get going,” Lena said, gesturing towards the hotel. You could tell she was a little disappointed
“Yeh, no, I get it. Just … text me, yeh? Maybe you could show me around Wolfsburg when we travel to you guys?” you said nervously, not meeting her warm brown eyes.
“Hey,” she called softly, using her free hand to grasp your chin and make you look into her eyes. “I will absolutely be showing you around my home. We will definitely be doing this again,” she said with certainty. You felt your heart jump at the idea of a second date with Lena. She squeezed your hand before she left, looking back with a soft smile as she went.
[Initial]💙❤️: SPOTIFY LINK – One Direction, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’:  https://www.spotify......
L💚: SPOTIFY LINK – Odeal, ‘Next Time’: https://www.spotify.......
After the second leg, Lena took you to a Christmas Market, saying that even though it was only November, you had to experience one. It was lovely. You laughed, ate too much food, and drank too much hot chocolate and mulled wine. As she took you back to your hotel, you came to a stop, much like you had in Barcelona.
“Can I actually kiss you this time?” You asked her.
“Bitte Küsse mich.” You didn’t speak German, but she clarified her intentions as she put a hand on your hip, shuffling closer until your breaths mingled. Her lips were soft and rough and warm and cold all at once. It was perfect. The world stopped spinning momentarily as you slowly let your tongue explore.
“Mein Gott” she said as you parted.
“Guess I’m going to need German lessons.” You laughed, pressing your lips back on hers.
“Don’t worry, I know a willing teacher,” she said as you separated again.
Your relationship was semi-secret; text exchanges left you giddy, hushed phone calls left you too-smiley, and facetimes were taken as you hurried from the rooms. Everyone could tell something was different, and most people could guess that it was probably down to a person; they just couldn’t figure out who.
“Alright, out with it. Who’s got you so smiley?” Patri asked as she sat on your sofa. You were having a younger girls' night—like you do most evenings. Patri, Pina, Esmee, Ona, Jana, Martina, Vicky, Bruna, Cata … it was a bit of a squeeze in your one-bedroom flat, but you made it work.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as you smiled into your glass.
“Oh, please. You’ve been smiling away, laughing, and being disgustingly cute. Who is it?” Jana swatted your thigh at your non-answer.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” you stuck your tongue out at her.
“Don’t make us do detective work!” Martina threatened, pulling up her phone and going onto your social media.
“It’s recent, so check who she’s recently started following,” Vicky suggested. You were so grateful that you had been following Lena for years since you had played against her at club and national levels.
“It happened after the group stages,” Ona chimed in. You threw her an offended glare. You knew she wouldn’t actively spill your secret, but you had hoped she wouldn’t join in on the hunt for the identity of your girlfriend.
“You know something, Ona!” Pina accused, a finger coming to point at her. “You know who it is, don’t you?” They soon switched from interrogating you to Ona. Logically, it was the smartest move; Ona could crack very easily. It’s how you found out about Lucy – you had just narrowed your eyes at her for slightly too long, and she broke, spilling everything to you when she stayed the night a few months ago. You watched, somewhat amused, as Ona squirmed, avoiding eye contact, ducking her head, biting her lip. She was close to spilling everything. You knew she was terrified of telling secrets that weren’t hers, but she couldn’t help it.
“Alright, guys. Enough. Stop interrogating her.” You broke up the onslaught of questions, moving from your sofa seat to the chair she was curling up in. You could tell she was close to tears, and you didn’t want to do that to her – you knew she already felt guilty enough. You shuffled her around a bit before pulling her onto your lap.
“Right, you get 5 hints. If you can’t guess it from them, then I can’t help you. And no more asking Ona!” You glared at them all, ensuring they understood how serious you were. “Right, she’s German. She plays in Germany. She’s a midfielder. We’re similar ages. She’s made her senior international debut in 2019.” You watched as the group dissolved into loud discussion.
“Lo siento mucho. No querías que nadie lo supiera y ahora...” Ona hurried out, close to tears again.
“Hey, no, no, no. It’s ok, Oni,” you reassured her as you kissed her forehead. “No es tu culpa. I promise you. I do not blame you.” She nodded and buried her head back against your collarbone, watching the carnage in front of you. You quietly laughed to each other at the scene – Wikipedia was pulled up on everyone’s phones, the German national team website as well as they speculated on who you were seeing. You slowly pulled your phone out, quickly texting Lena.
[Initial]💙❤️: Like ½ my team are tryna guess my girlfriend rn x
[Initial]💙❤️: Do u mind if I say yes if they guess it right? x
L💚: ahahahahaha
L💚: No, I don’t mind. R u gonna tell them who I am if they get it wrong tho?
[Initial]💙❤️: Whichever u want x
[Initial]💙❤️: I don’t mind telling them x
[Initial]💙❤️: Would make it easier when I disappear to Germany for a few days and u suddenly turn up in my Barca jersey
[Initial]💙❤️: I want to tell them about u x
L💚: Tell em
L💚: Can I tell my team?
[Initial]💙❤️: Omg yesssss xxxxxxxxxxxx
L💚: also – I will never wear a barca jersey!!
L💚: Even if it does have ur name on the back 🤢
[Initial]💙❤️: ugh RUDE.
[Initial]💙❤️: But ud still be my WAG tho right? x
L💚: I’ll always be ur wag hehe
[Initial]💙❤️: so kind of u x
[Initial]💙❤️: I’ll always be ur wag too btw x
“Alright, alright. We have 2 possible answers.” Bruna turned around with a notebook in her hand. Where did they get that from? “Our first guess, we think, is less likely. Klara Bühl. She’s German, plays for Bayern, is a midfielder, and debuted in 2019. You’re similar in age. But we haven’t played Bayern in a while. So, how would you have met? So, we don’t think it’s her.” She paused, staring at your carefully crafted neutral expression. You met Klara once; she was lovely. She handed the notebook over to Cata. “Our final guess is one we think is pretty true,” Cata explained, adjusting herself to sit cross-legged before you. “We played Wolfsburg at the Champions League group stages, and you disappeared for the whole day the day after and came back all smiley. So, we have reason to believe it’s a Wolfsburg player.” You didn’t realise how seriously they were taking this. “But … most of the Wolfsburg team are German, but not all of them are German midfielders that debuted for the national team in 2019.” She paused dramatically. You knew she had figured it out. “That’s why our final guess is …” another final pause.
“Oberdorf,” Patri shouted out, clearly over Cata’s dramatics. “You’re dating Oberdorf.”
“Oi. Aquesta havia de ser la meva revelació” Cata lunged at Patri, loud shouts of Catalan descending on the house.
“D'acord, d'acord,” you shouted over the noise as you saw a wine bottle wobble precariously as someone knocked into the table. “Sí, Lena is my girlfriend.” You admitted. If you thought the noise was loud before, you were deafened by the cacophony that descended on you. You buried your head in Ona’s hair, laughing as your friends melted into chaos.
You knew that once the younger ones found out who your girlfriend was, it was only a matter of time before the older ones did. You hadn’t expected it to be the next day, however. You were in the changing rooms, chatting to Patri and Pina as you prepared for the session ahead of you. The door banged open, and you were met with an outraged Lucy. As she stalked towards you, you glanced at a very guilty-looking Ona.
“She looked at me.” Ona defended herself.
“Grow a backbone, Oni.” You shouted as Lucy dragged you from the room, remembering to add a nickname in so she knew you weren’t that mad at her.
You were dragged to an empty conference room. Alexia, Paños, Marta, Mariona, Caro, and Irene were already sitting on one side of the table. Lucy pushed you into the single seat opposite them and took her place next to Irene. You sat in silence for a full 3 minutes before anyone spoke.
“Is there something you want to tell us, cariño?” Alexia asked smoothly, folding her hands in front of her like she was conducting a business meeting.
“Ona needs to learn how to toughen up.” You weren’t too angry with Ona, but it slightly annoyed you that she had cracked so easily. You wanted to tell the older girls yourself to avoid this situation.
“Leave her out of it.” Lucy jumped in. You clicked your teeth at her, flicking your hand in her direction, dismissing her protest.
“You have a girlfriend,” Irene stated, bringing the conversation back on track.
“Ja, das tue ich,” you said, chuckling at their reaction to your German. They didn’t fully understand you but knew ‘yes’ in most languages. You could see Caro laughing slightly – she had played for Wolfsburg; she knew you were using your newfound language to irritate them.
“And you didn’t tell us?” Marta asked
“Ja, das ist richtig,” you smiled.
“Cut the crap, pequeña.” Paños hit the table, making you jump slightly.
“Bien. Si tanto quieres saber,” you snapped. “Yes, I have a girlfriend. I’m sure you already know who, but it’s Lena. I asked her out after our home Wolfsburg game. She asked me out after her home leg. We’ve been dating for a couple of months now. I really like her. Anything else you want to know?” You asked Alexia directly. You could see the internal battle – the desire to know everything about your new relationship with her promise to treat you more grown up.
“Everyone, out,” Alexia instructed after a minute, using her captain’s voice to show she was serious. “Cariño, please stay?” She asked. You nodded as the others left. Caro seemed to find this whole thing funny, but everyone else was grumbling and muttering about how they found it rude that you didn’t tell them and that you were too young for a girlfriend. “I thought we promised to tell each other things like adults?” She asked you.
“I know. The others only found out yesterday if it makes you feel any better. Ona’s known for a while, but only because I asked her for help.” You sat back in your chair, careful to leave your posture open.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” She seemed a little upset by your actions.
“I didn’t want this to happen. We’ve finally found a balance. And I knew that this would disrupt that balance. And it’s so new; I didn’t want to tell you guys until I knew what we were, and it’s only really been a few months. She asked me to be her girlfriend at New Year’s, so …” you trailed off, hoping that she understood where you were coming from.”
“Entenc. But cariño, why didn’t you tell me?” She asked again.
“I … I don’t know.” You did know. You knew exactly why you didn’t tell her. And she knew it, too. “Ok … well … I didn’t … I didn’t want you to treat me like a child again. Relationships are new to me. I can do the … physical …” you both cringed slightly, not entirely comfortable with those topics just yet, “side of relationships fine. But emotions. They’re new to me. And I wanted to figure it out for myself first. I went to Ona ‘cos she’s my best friend. One that needs to learn how to resist interrogation better, but she’s still my best friend.”
“Don't be too hard on her, pequeña. She meant well. And I get why you didn’t come to me first. But can I ask a few questions?” She watched as you left your seat, coming around to her side of the table, and sitting on her lap.
You sighed, “ask away.” She laughed as she squeezed your waist.
“Does she treat you well?”
“Sí,” you answered honestly.
“Do you treat her well?”
“I think so. I hope so.” You smiled at her concern for Lena
“Can we meet her?”
“As long as you guys don’t give her the talk, then yes.” She leant back to look at your face.
“Can I give her the talk?” You sighed.
“Sí,” you relented, not missing the flicker of excitement that passed over her face.
“When is she coming to Barcelona?”
“Our way game Èl Clasíco matches with a free weekend for her. She’s meeting me in Madrid.” You laughed as she pushed you off her lap, standing up and rushing to the door. “Where are you going?”
“To prepare my speech. Alba never let me do a charla de hermana mayor to her partners, so this might be my only chance.” You laughed at her enthusiasm. She indeed was like your big sister – annoying most of the time, infuriating some of the time, but just a big, goofy kid at heart looking out for everyone around her.
[Initial]💙❤️: U might wanna prepare urself now x
L💚: WHY???
L💚: WHAT DID U DO????
[Initial]💙❤️: Alexia knows
[Initial]💙❤️: She’s very excited to meet my girlfriend x
[Initial]💙❤️: She’s planning a speech x
L💚: I am dead
L💚: I am going to die
L💚: Will u still love me if I’m dead????
[Initial]💙❤️: She wont kill u
[Initial]💙❤️: I wont let her xxx
[Initial]💙❤️: Yes, I will still love u if ur dead xx
I hope you liked it <3<3<3
721 notes · View notes
spiderlandry · 10 months
Text
Love Language — ethan landry
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Description: You regularly hugged all of your friends besides Ethan. He wonders why.
Pairing: Ethan Landry x GN!Reader
Warnings: reader is shorter than ethan, some teasing, confessions, no ghostface, mention of a dead childhood pet once, lmk if theres anything i should add !!
Word Count: 2.6k
Author’s note: is this very specific to me? yes.
BLACKMORE UNIVERSITY, FRESHMAN YEAR
When Ethan first met you, he thought you and Chad were dating.
The first time he met Chad’s friend group and inevitably became a part of it, there was talk amongst them of a link in their friendships currently studying a semester abroad, which he quickly found was you. They talked greatly of you, and Chad said you’d known them since freshman year of highschool besides Sam. The Woodsboro murders only brought you five closer together.
Safe to say Ethan had quite high expectations. There were photos he’d seen, and you were…attractive, to say the least. (If Ethan was honest, he’d say hot.) And by the way everyone talked about you like you were an angel, he wasn’t actually expecting you to be the closest thing to a deity he’d ever seen—but he was proven wrong.
You were introduced when you finally came back for the spring semester, and Quinn teased him afterward for being reduced to a bumbling idiot at the mere sight of you. (It was even worse when you talked to him.)
But after a week or so, your intimidation levels went down significantly. You weren’t just an angel by looks, you were an angel by character. Even if Ethan hadn’t known you for long, the thing that stood out most was your compassion. How you cared so deeply for others that it only inspired those around you, including him.
What made him contemplate your relationship with Chad were the hugs.
Ethan was there when they picked you up at the airport. You hugged your friends from Woodsboro and Anika (since you’d known her over Facetime), then waved an awkward introduction with Ethan as he desperately tried not to stutter out his name.
He thought, okay, that was normal. Hugging your friends you hadn’t seen in a long time.
But as time progressed he noticed that every time he happened to see you, either on campus or when some of them would grab a bite to eat and you were invited, you would always be hugging Chad.
Ethan’s data was only gathered during this short week after you arrived, and he realized he was completely wrong when he began to hang out more with the rest of the group, not just Chad.
You hugged everybody.
He put it together when he spotted you at a popular lunch spot with Tara, embracing her for a good minute or so. He also went to Quinn’s place of residence which happened to also be the Carpenter sisters’, and Sam was holding you in the kitchen while something was cooking.
He started noticing it every single time. There was Mindy and Anika, who you drunkenly hugged at a lame party (in which he’d never admit that he attended just to see you), then Quinn at some point when he ran into both of you on campus.
Throughout the next few weeks, he accepted that it was just your way of showing you loved your friends. And he wasn’t close to you yet, but he was looking forward to the day he would be.
SOPHOMORE YEAR
The diner a few blocks from your place became familiar with you and your friends constantly hanging out there, and even if it could get rowdy, the staff couldn’t help but appreciate that you all tipped well despite being college students.
Ethan didn’t put much thought into the hugs a year into knowing you, his thoughts were replaced by how much you spent time with him. You asked him to hang out. You texted him. You even did study calls over discord, and you’d be able to hear Chad teasing him in the background and you always laughed it off.
Soon enough, you consumed every corner of his mind, and every good thing he saw would come back to you. He saw the moon come out every night and was reminded of how much you loved it. Whenever he encountered a stray cat, he thought about stories you told of your childhood cat, a picture of her still in your wallet though she died years ago. At a store, he would remind himself to grab the chips you liked.
You occupied places in his psyche so much that it felt like he was drunk on you. He guessed that’s why he forgot about the hugs pretty quickly.
At least, he forgot about them until you were at the diner with him, Chad, and Tara. They were always the most available, often down to do whatever when you’d text to the groupchat if anyone was free.
Chad was frowning at his phone, brows furrowed.
You were sitting across from him, next to Ethan, when you noticed.
“What’s wrong, C?” You inquired, putting a piece of fry dipped in milkshake in your mouth.
Ethan was focused on his milkshake, and how you occasionally would dip your fries in—without double dipping, of course—it made his heart flutter even if it was the simplest of actions. The domesticity of it. He may as well be your boyfriend, he fantasized.
“This quiz is wrong.” Chad scowled.
Tara, right next to him, peeped at his screen. She laughed. “Why are you taking this?”
Chad shrugged exaggeratedly, almost reminiscent of a moody kid. “I was watching this video essay about love languages last night, so I got curious.”
You smiled, taking in the context. “Did you do a quiz on what your love language is?”
He nodded.
“Can I see?”
He handed you his phone, and it read Physical Touch. Ethan scooted closer next to you to read it and you tried to ignore the faster beat of your heart when you thighs began to touch.
“Y’know what? It’s kinda right,” Tara chimed in.
“Really?” Her boyfriend turned to her.
“You have your hand on my thigh right now.” She chuckled, a soft sound as she leaned in closer to him.
Reading further, it also said Words of Affirmation was a close second.
Ethan finally spoke, “You should listen to your girlfriend, Chad.”
You handed the phone to Tara when she motioned for it. “Words of affirmation also seems right,” she added.
“Seriously?” Chad asked, his tone lifting to showcase disbelief. “Does everybody know this but me?”
Ethan pulled a memory from his brain. “You always hype me up at parties. Remember when you kept calling me a snack at that Halloween party last year?”
His roommate gave it a moment, then responded, “Alright, fine. I guess you’re right.” He looked to Tara with an unsaid question that only she knew how to read. A question that was ‘are they actually right?’
“Well, I can’t exactly say it at the table.” She said it teasingly at Chad, but with a lilting tone that told you it was, to say the least, inappropriate.
Ethan put a hand on his face, “Please have some decorum, guys.”
“Yeah, come on.” You joked. “I’ve had enough of you two lovebirds.“
Chad glanced at you, feigning offence. “Don’t act like you’re not the same!”
“Woah, woah—“ You interrupted. “With whom?“
He pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes going to Ethan, who had a panicked look.
“What? What makes you think that? Why are you looking at me?” Ethan said a tad too quickly which made Tara almost snort.
“Let’s not…” You shook your head slowly, “start this.”
Now, what did you mean by that? Ethan thought.
Chad shrugged. “What about you, roomie? What’s your love language?” He asked, moving away from the subject of you and Ethan which you were eternally grateful for. But the question still plagued Ethan, unbeknownst to you.
“Um…” He thought for a second. “What are the love languages?” He asked when he realized he didn’t actually know the other ones.
“I think yours is acts of service,” You interjected. You were looking him up and down, as if you were scanning him for something. He couldn’t help but almost cower under your wandering eyes, but he stood his ground, a mental battle inside his head of which you were completely unaware.
“Is it?”
“Yeah,” Tara agreed. “Yeah.” She reiterated, more sure of it.
“Listen to your partner in crime, roomie.” Chad smirked.
You tilted your head at the partner in crime part, you’d never heard yourself be referred to with that regarding Ethan. Not that you minded.
Ethan shot him a very stern look, as if they had a silent conversation. (To your obliviousness, it was because Ethan referred to you as his partner in crime to Chad a few days ago, giving his roommate more ammo to use.)
“Why do you guys think it’s acts of service?” Ethan shifted the topic back.
“Well,” you began. “You always bring me chips when you come back from a store.”
“He only does that to you, though.” Tara said.
“Does he?” You turned to him for an answer.
“Well—I do stuff for other people too.”
“Like what?”
“I do the dishes at our house. I mop the floor, I do stats homework for Anika.”
“That’s all true,” Chad agreed. “Okay, so yours is acts of service. Y/N, what about you?”
“Definitely physical touch.” Tara nodded, certain of it.
“Oh, for sure, for sure.” Her boyfriend concurred.
“Wait, what makes you guys so sure?” You smiled regardless of your questioning tone, appreciative of the way your friends paid attention to your actions.
“Do we even have to start?” Tara asked, “The hugs?”
“Yeah, you’ve been doing it since high school.”
“Within two days of knowing me, you hugged me in Ms. Thompson’s class,” She added.
“Okay, you’re right, but—“ You started.
“What else could there be?” Chad interrupted.
It was then that a quiet voice piped up from next to you, so quiet a whisper you could’ve missed it if the diner weren’t empty. “You’ve never hugged me.”
Ethan sounded so dejected, so…defeated?
It broke your heart.
He regretted it even before he said it, and judging from everyone’s faces apparently he needed to rid himself of the habit of saying things out of turn.
Tara’s eyes were a little wide, while Chad puffed air from his mouth.
He refused to look at you.
“Never—nevermind,” He waved it off.
“I was just getting to that,” You furthered. “My love language is different for certain people!” You exclaimed.
“Is it?” Tara questioned, eyes narrowing. (You’d realize later how much of a bait this was.)
“For you guys, I’ve known you for a while so I’m comfortable touching you.”
Chad had the same expression as his girlfriend, “But you do the same to Anika and Quinn.”
It dawned on Ethan that they were pretty much backing you both into a corner. “Guys—“
“But—that’s—that’s different,” you insisted.
A long pause. Nobody could decide if it was awkward.
“…Is it?” Ethan finally spoke, a piece of courage in exchange for dignity. He needed the answer.
You fidgeted in your seat, not knowing how to say it. But you wanted to, badly. The answer was etched into your bones, weaved into your DNA.
“Fine,” you shrugged. “Wanna know the truth? I was going to say, before you interrupted me, that my love language changes when it’s romantic, okay?”
The answer was Ethan.
You didn’t know what was going to happen next. At this point, your heart was in your feet and you’ve scooted away from Ethan.
He was breathing shallowly as if he’d just ran a marathon. “Can you…elaborate?”
You took a deep breath, “Do you seriously not know?”
He shook his head.
Then you did something he never expected.
You reached for his arm and guided him out of the booth, heading for the door and ignoring your friends’ looks when you exited the diner.
Chad and Tara were left to anticipate.
Right outside of the dimly lit diner, on sidewalk, you positioned yourself right in front of him.
You stared right into his brown doe eyes, and hugged him. You put your arms around his torso, under his arms, your head on his upper chest.
It took him a good second to reciprocate, but it was worth it. The warmth that radiated from his touch was one you never forgot, even if you couldn’t feel it again for a thousand years. (But you’d never let that happen.)
You were hugging him because you couldn’t face him while you said what you were about to say.
“I don’t hug you because if I did, it would mean different.” Your voice was muffled by his jacket. “I don’t love you the way I love my friends.”
With your head where it was, you felt his breath hitch. “What—what do you mean?”
You laughed, and Ethan revelled in the rumble of your joy in his chest.
“I mean…I spend my time with you differently because I love you differently. I hug my friends, but I spend time with you, because I…”
He didn’t know if he had the strength to keep himself upright.
“Because I’m in love with you.”
He was silent.
“And—and you don’t have to even…feel the same, but I didn’t want you to wonder if I loved you or not because I couldn’t let me being scared take that from you. Because you deserve to know. I think.”
Your voice was so unstable that it tapered off by the end, as quiet as Ethan was.
His embrace tightened, trying to pull you closer. He leaned down and put his head on your shoulder.
“I can’t believe you’d say that—that I don’t have to feel the same.”
Now he felt your breath hitch.
He continued, “I think I already loved you when we met. Is that weird?”
You laughed. And he memorized that sound.
“It’s not weird. I think it happened to me too.”
The biggest weight on both of your shoulders were lifted, something you thought wasn’t possible.
He breathed you in, memorizing the edges of your body as you kept talking.
“I’m sorry they kept teasing you because of me. Tara knew, so Chad probably knew, too.”
He pulled away slightly, looking at you.
“I thought they were teasing me because Chad knew.” His eyebrows were pinched, and you put two and two together at the same time.
Your eyes snapped to the window of the diner, seeing Chad and Tara’s heads disappear from the view when they ducked down, trying to avoid you from spotting their peeping. But you saw it anyway.
You focused back on Ethan, and while he was still looking at the window, you put a soft hand on his cheek and guided his head to face you again.
“It was a set up,” He sighed.
“It was.” You nodded.
“Should we be mad?”
“Are you?”
“Not when you’re in my arms.”
You grinned. “Since when did you have game?”
“I have you, don’t I?”
You playfully slapped his arm. “Wanna go back to my place?”
“If I ever say no to that, kill me.”
2K notes · View notes
astridthevalkyrie · 2 months
Text
oh my god, bakugo's kind of my friend! | k. bakugo x reader
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----> summary: You'd never dare tell anyone that he was your friend. You'd never be so bold. Katsuki agrees. He's definitely not your friend.
----> warnings: quirkless university au, video game violence, fluff n feelings
----> a/n: title blatantly stolen from the office—"oh my god, dwight's kind of my friend!"
----> word count: 2k
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God, no, you’re not friends with Katsuki Bakugo.
No one is.
Yeah, okay, that’s not totally true. He’s sort of friends with Ochako, that’s how you met him. He’s actually fairly close to Izuku and Eijiro, his roommates. He tolerates Shoto, might even begrudgingly respect him. And he’s got some weird mutual-depression pact going on with Kyoka. 
But you’re not any of them. And you vehemently deny it when people ask, lest he, heaven forbid, think you’re going around telling people he likes you. You saw what happened to Neito last year when he, just once, said something about his friend Katsuki. You’re pretty sure it was the reason behind his switching majors, too, just to avoid being in the same classes with the terrifying blonde.
Sure, you’re in his apartment. Neito’s never stepped foot in here (aside from The Incident). And you’re well acquainted with the people he does clearly consider not-enemies. Earlier today, you and Momo had been out getting chips and soda for tonight. Just half an hour ago, you’d been playing blind karaoke with Eijiro, Izuku, and Ochako on Kyoka’s old laptop and mic that somehow both still had really good audio quality. Not to mention, you and Mina have had at least one class together every semester since you both started—she always races to slide into the chair next to you on every first day.
And you’re currently sitting on Katsuki’s couch, two feet away from Katsuki, playing a battle royale on Katsuki’s console.
“Behind the building,” he mutters, and you hum in acknowledgement, running to the spot he generously marked on the map.
It started a long while back. You and Denki had been playing some shitty racing game, and you’d very easily kicked his ass, leaving him groaning and flopping back onto Kyoka’s lap, where she offered no pity, rolling his head off with a light shove. As you were laughing at the display, Katsuki had taken Denki’s place on the floor, and all but demanded you pick up the controller once more.
(You’d won again. Terrified, you simply claimed that your controller must be broken before racing out of the room.
Imagine your surprise when, the next time you visited, he’d barked at you to assist him with a multiplayer, ordering a pouty Denki off the couch.)
You like playing, and you don’t have a console with as much storage back home, and you’re too broke to be buying multiple games anyways, so you don’t mind taking advantage of Katsuki’s appreciation for your skill. It’s usually a nice way to end the night, whether you and Ochako end up leaving or if you fall asleep right there on the couch.
Shivering, you bring your feet under the wool blanket you’d brought with you. You’re the only one who finds the apartment freezing. Everyone else typically sheds their extra layers, while you once hunted down Eijiro’s sock drawer to steal a pair of He-Man stockings for the night. 
“Up in the window,” you warn, at the same time he says, “Oi.”
Both of you meet each other’s gaze for a second in bewilderment, before rapidly turning your attention back to the TV. He dodges the shot from the window, and then continues.
“You been tellin’ people I hate you?”
“What?” Your hands almost drop the controller, but you regain control just quick enough to roll out of the way of a grenade. “No.”
“Kirishima said Tetsutetsu told him that Kendo told him that Tokage told her that you told her I hated you.”
If you weren’t nervous, you’d tell Katsuki you were surprised he even knew all those names. “I didn’t say that. I just said we weren’t friends.”
There’s an awfully long pause. You can still hear the sounds from the game, and the chatter of everyone else in the apartment—Hanta’s trying to rap?—but not a word from your couch partner. If it weren’t for the screen in front of you, you’d be nervously biting your nails or just full on escaping, honestly. Not that you’re scared of Katsuki, at least not more than one should be, but…
Well, the truth is you did see him as a friend. Or, screw it, as more than that, if those little arrhythmias you observed in yourself every time he would raise his hand in greeting when he passed you on campus were any indication. And you know it’s going to hurt—it already does—to hear him confirm the same thing that you told everyone when they asked. That you meant very little to him, in the long term.
“We’re not friends, huh?” he finally says, as more of an inquiry than you’d expected it to sound.
Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t stop staring straight ahead, spamming X to whack someone over the head with a bat. “Um. Are we?”
“Isn’t this your favorite game?” he shoots back, as though that answers your question.
“Yes? So?”
Another pause. You climb up to the roof of some building and emote pointlessly before hopping down and ducking behind a bush to heal. Katsuki lets out a mix of a sigh and a grunt, dashing across an abandoned minefield. 
“So,” he snarks, “I only bought it after you told me it was your favorite.”
Faintly, you feel the tips of your ears grow hot. Is that true? That can’t be true, can it? The timing does line up. You think it was back in the first week of October that you mentioned it, and then by Halloween you’d already played several rounds. Between that and losing to Momo in several games of pool, finals month had flown by.
But…
“I didn’t even tell you that.” Your voice comes out meek, and even though you’re in a safe space now, you’re still too nervous to turn your head and look at him. “I was talking to Shoto.” You’d even been half sure that Shoto wasn’t really registering what you were saying, with Ochako an inch away from him shrieking starships were meant to fly-y-y-y-y directly into his ear.
Katsuki grunts. “I was there, wasn’t I?”
If you wrack your memory, you can sort of remember it. He was…on Ochako’s other side? When she got drunk, she usually wanted to whack something, and Katsuki’s arm had been her victim that day, her palm smacking against his elbow at every other sung word.
The heat from your ears travels down to your neck. Over the singing and over everyone else’s conversations, was he paying attention to…you?
“I appreciate it,” you squeak quickly, wincing when you’re shot in the leg, “I mean, that was nice. Thank you. I just—I didn’t think you wanted me telling people we were friends, after what happened to—”
“If you bring up Monoma, I’ll take away your blanket,” he threatens; it makes you chuckle weakly. “You’re not that shithead. He pisses me off. You’re…you know.” You don’t know, actually. “You.”
Yeah, you’re you. You play games with him. You know his friends. You’re the only one who can try to outdance Eijiro to Rasputin in Just Dance. What does any of that have to do with…
“Do you think I ever fuckin’ carried that dick’s bag to class?”
“I don’t—”
“Do you think I had his stupid long ice cream order memorized? Pistachios, on the sides only,” he mimics, and you huff in an affronted sort of way, defensive of your topping choices. “Telling people to shut up so that I could hear what he was saying? Turning up the heat and burning up everyone in the apartment just to keep him warm? Was I inviting him to my place every two weeks just to fuckin’ watch him play Kingdom Hearts 3?”
And so, you finally look to the side. Katsuki’s cheeks are red, and his gaze is still on the television. His thumbs move furiously against the controller, and you have to bite your lip to prevent a quiet you’re really cute, you know that? from carelessly slipping from your mouth.
“But, to be fair,” you attempt, still confused, “you don’t exactly do all of that for your other friends either, Katsuki.”
At your words, he slouches into his seat more, the creases on his forehead deepening as an uncharacteristic frown—a frown, not a scowl—forms on his face. One would think you’d just told him you hated his guts. 
“Yeah.“ His glare flickers over to you for a moment. “Exactly.”
There’s a blast from the TV and a realization that hits you at the same time. 
You’re not his friend. He doesn’t see you as a friend.
The heat finally reaches your cheeks, and your mouth falls open slightly. 
Then, realizing something else, your head immediately snaps back to the screen to see that blast sound had actually been your character getting blown up. 
Your mouth falls open. You’d looked away for a few seconds at best. Which aces are in the lobby tonight?
“I lost,” you tell him, crestfallen. 
Katsuki snorts. “I didn’t.”
He keeps playing, and your cheeks don’t take any time to cool down. Instead, you stare at him while he’s distracted trying to escape the same vicious bastards who hunted you down, and you note that his face doesn’t look any less heated either. For once, it’s clearly not because he’s just getting into the game.
You wonder if that was ever the case at all, or if he just felt the same striking little jolt you did everytime you two accidentally bumped into each other while playing on this exact couch.
“I think I’m done for tonight.” The announcement comes out a bit louder than you expected. “I’ll probably head back.”
“I don’t think so.” Without breaking his eyes away from the TV, he nudges his head in the direction of the bedrooms. “Uraraka’s dead on her feet, and you’re not walkin’ back alone.”
Has he always purposely caused the fluttering in your chest? “Okay, well. Izuku’s still awake, I’ll just take his bed for now.”
Katsuki’s tongue clicks in a fuck-around-and-find-out kind of way. “Alright. Put the controller back before you go.”
“Fine. Where’s the, uh…” You turn your head this way and that, looking for the little box that they all go in.
“On my right,” he offers casually, not a hint on his face that he essentially just confessed to you.
Feeling a little spiteful, you reach to the side, blanket and all, instead of just standing up and going behind the couch like you would any other day. Purposefully blocking his view of the screen as you reach over him to toss the controller into the box, you smirk slightly when another blast signals that he’s died as well.
Only to yelp when a firm arm shoves you down against his chest.
“Would you look at that,” he murmurs, red eyes glittering in amusement as he watches you struggle on his lap, “I lost too.”
Tokage is going to hear a very different story tomorrow. “And how’s that my problem?”
His grip tightens, fingers gently digging into the thick cloth of the blanket that’s draped over you. “I wanna play again. And I’m cold.”
There’s a small, dumb grin on his face that you’d consider kissing off if it wasn’t mirrored by an equally dumb one of yours. You’re pretty sure Katsuki’s never ever complained about the cold in his apartment. But then, he’s never complained about the heat either. If he wants to be a sauna under you, who are you to deny him? Besides, you’re feeling cold too, you might as well just take advantage of the free insulation.
From the table, in the midst of pouring something that looks like cookie batter into a bowl, Kyoka raises her brow at the sight of you, then pats Tenya’s arm and points. 
He mouths something like, “Finally.”
Face burning once more, you bury your face in Katsuki’s neck, and relax in his hold while he presses X to replay.
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thedensworld · 27 days
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Your Best Man | J.Ww
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Pairing: Wonwoo x reader
Genre: fluff, humor, established relationship
Summary: Wonwoo has tried his best to become the best man you've ever met. At the end, he is the best man.
Author note: let's have a break from angsty suffering story and have some fluffywonu!
Wonwoo loves you. He loves you with all of his heart. Honestly, he loves you with all of his life. In conclusion he loves you very much. Wonwoo sat there, an empty soju glass in hand, his words flowing like the river of affection he held for you. Mingyu, realizing his friend had reached the brink of tipsiness, halted the soju parade, albeit reluctantly, knowing Wonwoo was just getting started.
"Mingyu, remember when I fell head over heels for her at first sight?" Wonwoo's tone was earnest, albeit slightly slurred, as he delved into his favorite topic, you.
Mingyu nodded, taking a break from his spicy budae jiggae to indulge Wonwoo's sentimental journey.
"She was stunning," Wonwoo continued, his gaze drifting upwards as if searching for you among the stars. "I mean, she's always been gorgeous, but back then? Wow. Even Cupid would've been jealous of my aim that day."
He chuckled, the warmth of nostalgia enveloping him as he recalled the moment fate intervened, intertwining your destinies.
"In hindsight, it's like the universe had a checklist and decided, 'Yep, these two are meant to be.' And who am I to argue with the universe, right?"
Wonwoo's laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy you brought him, even in the haze of alcohol and spicy food.
So there they sat, one lost in love and the other in a spicy stew, united in their admiration for the wonder that was you. And as Wonwoo raised his glass in a tipsy salute to your magnificence, Mingyu couldn't help but toast silently to the cosmic comedy that brought you all together. Cheers to love, laughter, and the occasional soju-fueled confession.
Years ago, Wonwoo became acquainted with you through a movie he watched with Vernon. You were a rising rookie actor at the time. Fate, however, had a more direct introduction in store for him. It happened one evening by the Han River, where Wonwoo sought solace in the night air and a bowl of ramyeon, alone with his thoughts.
The tranquility was shattered by the intrusive click of a camera shutter, followed by a beam of flashlight. Initially annoyed by the presence of paparazzi, Wonwoo's irritation quickly turned to anger as he contemplated the invasion of privacy suffered by countless others in the industry.
His resolve to confront the paparazzi was cut short by a sudden thud and a groan. Rushing to the source of the commotion, Wonwoo discovered the paparazzi lying on the ground while another figure stood nearby, inspecting the camera.
"I know this is your job, but this is not right," Other person admonished, voice firm with conviction. "You've invaded someone's privacy and caused them untold discomfort. Can you even sleep at night knowing what you do?"
As the other person, you, retrieved the memory card, your eyes met Wonwoo's. In that moment of shared understanding, Wonwoo offered a thumbs-up in appreciation of your intervention, sparking a conversation between the two of you.
You explained that you recognized the paparazzi, having caught them fabricating rumors within the industry. Wonwoo nodded in solidarity, acknowledging his own frustration with such unethical practices.
"I was about to take action myself," Wonwoo admitted, shaking his head. "I'm relieved to know I'm not the only one who feels this way."
And so, amidst the backdrop of the Han River, a bond formed between two strangers united by their disdain for injustice and their shared desire to protect the integrity of others. It was a chance encounter that would leave a lasting impression on both Wonwoo and you, shaping the course of their future interactions.
A conversation led to another, as late-night discussions evolved into playful banter and eventually escalated into vulnerable talks. What began as strangers connecting gradually blossomed into friendship, and then something more profound – love. Wonwoo cherished every step of the journey with you, never once regretting the decision to let you into his life. With you by his side, life seemed brighter, the shadows dissipating whenever you were together, and he couldn't shake the feeling that you were the one sent by a higher power to fill the void within him.
"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?" Wonwoo's question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation and hope. When you said yes, he made a silent vow to himself to be the best man you'd ever known. He listened to your concerns, ensured you never felt pressured, and held you in the highest regard, becoming your staunchest supporter whenever your movies or dramas premiered.
Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing. Like any couple, Wonwoo and you faced their fair share of ups and downs. But each challenge served as a lesson, strengthening their bond and shaping them into better individuals for each other. If Wonwoo were to recount their biggest argument, it would likely be the time he recommended you to a director he knew.
Wonwoo happened to know a veteran noir movie director, a figure you admired deeply for his work. During a discussion between Wonwoo and the director at a premiere event, your name came up, sparking a conversation that would ultimately change the course of events.
"Your girlfriend is Ji Y/n, right? Her acting was exceptional in the last movie," the director remarked, his interest piqued.
"She's a huge fan of yours," Wonwoo replied. "I know it might be unconventional, but I was hoping you could consider casting her in your next project. It would mean a lot to her."
To Wonwoo's surprise, the director revealed that he was indeed seeking an actress for his upcoming movie and would be delighted if you were interested in joining the cast.
Initially, the news seemed like a dream come true. However, Wonwoo's excitement turned to concern when he received a series of missed calls from you while he was away on a business trip. Upon calling you back, he was met with the sound of your sobbing, instantly stirring worry within him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
"I never asked for your help with my career," you replied, your tone heavy with frustration.
Wonwoo's brow furrowed as you mentioned the director's name, realizing he had unwittingly stepped into a sensitive issue.
"I never asked you to secure a role for me in his movie, so why does everyone think I got it through a connection?" you inquired him, your voice trembling with emotion.
Wonwoo sighed, acknowledging his mistake. "I was talking to him that night, and he mentioned you—"
"He talked behind my back saying you begged him to put me into the cast."
"I never asked for that!" you continued, your frustration evident.
"I know," Wonwoo conceded, regret weighing heavy on his shoulders. "He didn't say what you think he did."
Feeling hurt and misunderstood, you ended the call abruptly, leaving Wonwoo with a sinking feeling in his chest. Acting swiftly, he instructed his manager to drive him to your place, determined to resolve the misunderstanding before it escalated further.
Wonwoo entered your apartment well past midnight, his fatigue from a long day's schedule overshadowed by the weight of guilt gnawing at him. Upon seeing you seated on the couch, head bowed in distress, he felt a pang of remorse pierce through him.
"What did he say to you?" Wonwoo inquired gently, his voice laden with concern as he approached you.
"It doesn't matter what he said," you replied, your tone laced with frustration. "What matters is that you overstepped by asking him to cast me in his movie! I want to build my career on my own terms, and I want people to recognize that."
Wonwoo knelt in front of you, seeking to meet your gaze. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his remorse evident. "I just thought—since you admire his work—it would be a good opportunity. I didn't anticipate this outcome."
A heavy silence hung between you before you confessed the truth. "I walked away from the role midway through filming. I couldn't bear to work with someone who talk trash their talent like that."
Wonwoo nodded understandingly, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I understand," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled thoughts. "You did what felt right for you."
As you feared, rumors began to circulate in the weeks following the announcement of your departure from the movie. Speculations about your connections within the industry surfaced, casting a shadow over your hard-earned reputation. Yet through it all, Wonwoo stood by your side, offering unwavering support and reassurance.
He knew the truth, and that was enough for him. Together, you weathered the storm of gossip, emerging stronger and more united than ever before. For Wonwoo, there was no greater reward than seeing you stand firm in your convictions, unyielding in the face of adversity. And as long as you had each other, no amount of speculation could tarnish the bond you shared.
Years later, you and Wonwoo went public with your marriage, and he was grateful for the overwhelmingly positive feedback you both received. The wedding was an intimate affair, attended only by close family and colleagues. For Wonwoo, it marked the culmination of his journey to become the best man you'd ever known, now leveled up to become the best husband himself.
He found joy in the simple moments of life, relishing in the comfort of sleeping and waking up beside you each day. To the surprise of his fellow members, who often referred to him as the prince by his fans, Wonwoo had embraced domesticity wholeheartedly. Learning to cook, clean, give massages, and take on any task that arose became second nature to him, especially during your pregnancy with your firstborn, Jeon Jihan.
Now, at five years old, Jihan possessed a strong will of his own, often refusing to hold hands with Wonwoo when being taken to daycare. Wonwoo couldn't help but wonder whose attitude Jihan had inherited—though deep down, he knew it was undoubtedly from you. Nevertheless, it didn't dampen Wonwoo's love for you and his son. He cherished every moment spent with his family, grateful for the love and happiness they brought into his life.
One day, while Wonwoo was away on tour and Jihan was just two years old, he heard from his fellow members that the women—referred to as "their girls"—had gathered at Seungcheol's wife's place. Concerned for your well-being, Wonwoo immediately called you to check in.
"Are you joining them?" he asked, his worry palpable over the phone line.
"Will you bring Jihan?" he added, mindful of your responsibilities as a parent.
"Of course, he can't take care of himself," came your sarcastic reply.
Wonwoo chuckled at your dry humor. "But didn't you say our car broke down yesterday?"
"I'll find a solution, don't worry about it, darling!" you reassured him.
However, after the concert, Wonwoo discovered from Seungcheol himself that you had ridden his bike to their place—with Jihan in tow. Not a word of this had come from you. Frustration and disbelief churned in Wonwoo's chest as he made a call to you.
"How could you ride a bike with our child being that young?" he demanded, his tone edged with concern.
"Jihan loves it!" you countered, sending a photo taken by another woman at a traffic light, showing Jihan smiling while securely attached to your front.
Wonwoo facepalmed with his hand, unable to believe what he was hearing. "You could have endangered both of you and Jihan. You're not allowed to ride my bike again!"
It wasn't that Wonwoo doubted your skill—you had been riding bikes for years, a shared passion that had drawn you both together. However, the idea of riding a bike with your child had never crossed his mind, nor did he ever imagine you would consider it. The incident led to his members labeling him as a "gangster husband," a nickname stemming from your unconventional lifestyle and characters in the movies.
"So what's the matter now, hyung? You said you're okay, you love her, you'll support her no matter what. Then what's with the change of heart?" Mingyu confronted drunken Wonwoo.
Wonwoo clumsily put down his glass, "You're not married, Mingyu. You won't understand my pain!" he declared, slurring his words as Mingyu rolled his eyes in amusement.
Without missing a beat, Mingyu dialed your number. "Hello, Y/n! Did you miss your husband already? He's being a pain in my ass tonight. Should I take him home?"
Wonwoo's eyes widened in panic as he realized what Mingyu was up to, but his drunken attempts to grab Mingyu's phone proved futile.
"Just the usual babbling about his undying love for you and some other nonsense. I'll be there in 20, okay? Bye!" Mingyu announced cheerfully before hanging up.
"No! I don't wanna go home! I don't wanna face her like this," Wonwoo protested dramatically, his words slurred as he tried to resist Mingyu's attempts to escort him home.
Mingyu sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "This hyung..." he muttered, resigning himself to the task of dragging a stubborn and intoxicated Wonwoo back to the safety of your arms.
*
"Where's Jihan?" Wonwoo groaned, nursing his pounding head while seated at the dining table, his breakfast being served by you. The mere act of opening his eyes felt like a Herculean task.
You shrugged casually, "Someone woke him up last night, and he ended up staying up late. He's still asleep."
Wonwoo's brows furrowed, knowing full well that the culprit was none other than himself. Yet, he was surprised by your nonchalant reaction to Jihan's extended slumber. "He's not going to daycare today?"
You shook your head, taking a seat across from him. "I'm free today, except for my ballet class at 4. Your mom wants to see Jihan, so I'll be taking him to your parents' place before then."
The mention of your ballet class jogged Wonwoo's memory of his conversation with Mingyu the night before. "You're still taking ballet classes?"
You set down your utensils and fixed him with a steady gaze. "Yes," you confirmed firmly. "And Mingyu filled me in on your little chat last night."
Wonwoo grumbled, "I'll punch him later," before offering a weak smile in your direction.
"I've decided to take the role no matter what, darling. It'll be my first-ever romcom movie," you declared, determination shining in your eyes.
Wonwoo sighed deeply, his headache worsening at the thought. "That's the problem, babe. I'm just not ready for that!" he confessed, his tone tinged with a hint of panic.
"What are you not ready for?" you queried, raising an eyebrow as Wonwoo stretched his hands and gestured vaguely.
"All the lovey-dovey stuff you'll have to do in the movie! Kissing, hugging, and acting all smiley with other men—I'm just not prepared for that!" Wonwoo exclaimed, his expression a mix of concern and discomfort.
You scoffed, "I thought we were done talking about this. I asked for your opinion, remember? If you don't want me to take the role, I won't. But you said your opinion doesn't matter as long as I'm happy, and I'm more than happy to challenge myself with this role."
Wonwoo nodded solemnly. "I know, but that was before I found out about the intimate scenes like kissing and hugging!"
You nodded understandingly. "You're right. And besides, you're the only man who can kiss and hug me like that."
Wonwoo sighed, relenting slightly. "Just kiss me three more times every day, and I'll pretend like nothing happened," he bargained, a hint of resignation in his voice. After all, he is your best man, right?
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cutielando · 27 days
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dating headcannon ~ oscar piastri
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Synopsis: what i imagine dating Oscar would be like
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
biggest sweetheart ever
you’d be high school sweethearts, i don’t care what anyone says
you would move to the UK with him when his career starting getting more and more serious
would be enrolled in university, but probably taking online classes or something to be able to attend his races
a well-known face around the paddock
you were the center of attention every weekend when you would attend a race, the fans screaming your name and asking you for photos more than Oscar
everyone’s bestie because you’re so sweet
getting along very well with Lando, seeing as you spend a lot of time with him because of Oscar
he would always tease the two of you and your relationship but you knew he meant no harm
you’d probably even set him up with one of your friends so he wouldn’t feel lonely
Oscar would be the biggest pookie ever
such a gentle soul
loving and doting boyfriend
would do anything that you would ask him to do
even if that meant sitting through cheesy romantic movies or doing face masks with you, he didn’t care as long as it made you happy
you guys would try to spend as much time together as you could because of Oscar’s hectic schedule and your uni assignments
Oscar oftentimes felt bad because he was working and training so much, feeling like he was neglecting you and not spending as much time with you as be would like
also feels bad if you can’t go to Australia as much as you’d like to
but you understood the situation and was more than happy to just be with him
he’d buy you anything that you’d ever want, but you weren’t a big spender and wouldn’t want much
favorite WAG, all the way
fans loved how normal and mature you were for such a young age
you also brought out the fun side of Oscar who is usually very reserved and shy in public
sneaky stories for the fans ;)
would feed them content like there was no tomorrow
the whole grid would 100% baby the two of you
but they all loved you and thought you were the perfect girl for their youngest driver colleague
you would be his support system, his anchor in an otherwise stormy world
whenever he would get overwhelmed by the pressure of motor racing, you’d be there to hold and reassure him that everything was going to be okay no matter what
he honestly wouldn’t be able to cope without you
besties with Logan forever
his family would adore you, always counting on you to keep Osc safe
actually started calling him Osc because of Lando
dressed in papaya at every race in support of the team
unconditionally in love with one another
people could tell how in love you were with each other just by the way you looked at each other
WEDDING VIBES
you would for sure end up being the first of the younger driver generation to get married
the entire grid would attend
Mark would probably officiate the entire thing
overall, you would be the absolute favorite couple on the entire internet
little Aussie and his lady
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