#sorry i had to edit some things and re-post this!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harryslittlefreakk · 5 months

Text

we could hide away

(late night talking part 4)

Summary: when a photo of you and harry is leaked, your relationship suffers. can you manage to mend it despite hurt and miscommunication?

Warnings: pure angsty, fluffy goodness, smut (f and m receiving)

A/n: thank you as always for everyone’s support on the previous parts 😭🫶🏼 it means the world to me , especially for the very idea that inspired me to start writing again! please let me know if there’s anything you want to see from our babies, any requests etc in general. i don’t know how much i like this part, my head is sooo fuzzy but i wanted to get it out, so edits may be made in the next few days !!

part one

part two

part three

my masterlist can be found here!

The first thing you heard the next morning was the incessant buzzing of a phone. Notification after notification, call after call. You woke up groggy after passing out in Harry’s arms, still fully clothed on top of the duvet. A headache hit you instantly, a cruel reminder of your perfect night. Harry woke up as you peeled yourself out of his hold, stretching your arms above your head before padding over to the kitchen for some water. His eyes were glazed over, still half asleep as he reached over to shut his phone off.

Harry scrolled through the notifications silently, eyes wide as he clicked on screenshots and messages. You placed a glass of water on his nightstand, crawling back on the bed beside him and wrapping an arm around him from behind. He placed a strong hand over yours, fiddling with the giant S ring you were still wearing. “Fuck, I’m sorry baby, gotta take this,” he mumbled, voice raspy and dry, as he slid off the bed and strode out to the balcony, phone to his ear immediately.

You watched as he shut the door behind himself, placing his phone on the table as he paced around the small space, hands dragging through his messy hair. Your phone was tucked under your pillow, completely drained of battery since you hadn’t managed to charge it. You leaned over to plug it in, eyes still fixed on Harry. Whatever he was talking about, whoever he was talking to, it seemed heated. He was fiddling with anything he could find, jaw tensing up as he breathed in and out. “We can talk about this later,” he said, slamming the sliding door behind him as he re-entered the room. He marched immediately into the bathroom, banging and crashing as he went. You walked over to find him slumped over the sink, cold water dripping off the end of his nose and the point of his chin.

You had no idea how to act. You didn’t know whether to comfort him, stay out of his way, share his anger. Whatever this was, was it even any of your business? It was in your nature to comfort, however, so you walked over and placed a gentle hand on his back. “Hey,” you said softly, pushing his hair out of his face with your free hand. “What’s happened?” Harry turned around and gave you a small smile, pulling his phone out of his pocket to show you. You were totally blindsided, your mouth falling open. It was a couple of grainy pictures, Harry and you in the hotel hallway yesterday morning. You in just his robe and some socks, walking down the hallway with his hand pressed against your lower back. You walking into the room, your hands laced together. The photos were captioned:

exclusive: harry styles pictured with a mystery woman in london

He scrolled to the next screenshot, the same pictures, now captioned:

who is harry styles’ rumoured girlfriend? we’ve narrowed it down!

He continued scrolling, showing you at least 25 posts and news articles about the pictures. They were taken from behind, so it wasn’t even obvious it was him, let alone you. Even still, your perfect, private little bubble had burst. “Harry I- I didn’t even know someone was there, how did this happen?” you looked into his eyes as you spoke, searching for some kind of answer or clue as to how he felt. Just as his lips parted, his phone rang again. He listened to the voice on the other end for a few minutes, nibbling at the skin around his fingers. One strong hand pushed through his hair once the call ended, grabbing a thick fistful of curls as he threw his head back, eyes closed. Harry still hasn’t said a real word to you since he woke up, and seemed to be holding a lot back from whoever called him. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say. It hurt him that people sought to invade his privacy. It angered him that your relationship was at risk of being exposed because people couldn’t resist selling stories about his life. It infuriated him that he now had to spend the day dealing with his management instead of nursing a sore head with you.

Harry strode into the living room to pull his trainers on, grabbing his trademark Pleasing tote bag from a hook next to the door. He slipped sunglasses onto his head, pushing his unbrushed curls out of his face. You lingered on the opposite side of the room, arms wrapped tight around your chest. “Harry, where are y-,” you started, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as he interrupted you. “Need to sort this out. Y/n, I don’t want to ask but I need t’know. Was this anything at all to do with you?” He asked. You couldn’t believe he was pointing the finger at you. “Harry, no! No. I wouldn’t- I’d never,” you told him, hurt at the accusation. He nodded curtly, then disappeared out of the room, leaving you wounded and alone.

—

You’d decided to head to Joanie’s after Harry left, needing quality time with your best friend. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been around much,” you rushed into your best friends arms as she opened her front door. She pulled you inside, thrusting a pre-made cup of tea into your arms as you slumped in the corner of her ragged sofa. “I’ve been seeing someone,” you started to explain. “He’s been here in london with me, but I think that’s all over now.” You spilled as much as you could to your best friend, twisting the story slightly to keep Harry’s identity secret.

Wiping your hands against your thighs, you stood up, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from your purse. “Do you have a lighter?,” you asked Joanie, scanning the room. You’d never particularly enjoyed smoking but it was just habit for you to have a couple of ciggies when you were sad or stressed. It started when you and Joanie were much younger, newly 18 and enjoying pubs, clubs and boys far too much. Every time one of you had your heartbroken, got rejected at the club or simply drank too much, you needed to share a pack. Now 6 years down the line, it was a dirty little secret you shared, one that Joanie’s long time boyfriend and new husband didn’t even know about.

You sat on the little brick wall outside her house, talking about your plans for the show tonight. “I want to be where we were on Tuesday,” Joanie sighed dreamily, flicking the ash from the end of her cigarette. You smiled meekly in response, dreading even being in the same venue as Harry, let alone so close to him again. “Did you see he was spotted with someone?” Joanie gasped, slapping her hand down on your knee. “I wouldn’t have married Tom if I knew Harry was dating.”

“Oh yes, your marital status is the one reason he’s gone for somebody else,” you scoffed, the pair of you collapsing into each other in a fit of giggles. You were so glad you had your best friend by your side through all of this, even if you couldn’t be totally honest with her. Joanie had always been the perfect opposite to you - the smart to your silly, the rose-tint to your pessimism, the light to your dark. Or whatever way it needed to go. She always managed to oppose your views and feelings, but in a way that gave both of you exactly what you needed. She lifted you up, mellowed you out, always opposite sides of the same coin. You had even spent your teenage years trying to convince school friends that you were destined to be best friends. Joanie was born on the hottest day of that year, and you on the coldest. It took fourteen years for life to bring the two of you together, but you felt as though you’d known her from birth. She was your soulmate, and it was eating up at you that you couldn’t tell her everything about Harry.

—

On the other side of London, Harry was sprawled across an armchair stuffed far too firm to be comfortable, though he knew that was the point. His long fingers were tapping a rhythm across his thigh, his eyes glued to the empty space left by his still-missing S ring. The tan line left behind sent a twinge through Harry’s chest. He regretted questioning you as soon as he’d said it, though he really didn’t know you well enough to be sure you weren’t involved. For all he knew, this could have been your plan all along. Get friendly with Harry Styles then sell your story to make a quick buck. Truthfully, he felt as though he could trust you, wanted to trust you, but he’d been burned too many times to fully count on his instincts.

“You best start explaining this, H.” Jeff’s voice was kind but stern, a cloud of frustration hanging over his head. Harry held his hands up in surrender, telling his manager, “it’s just a girl I’ve been seeing. Didn’t realise I had t’tell you and the world about it.”

“Harry- I’m your manager, for fucks sake. If you’re out doing things that could make a good story, it’s wise to tell me first. You know we need to get on top of things before anything like this happens.” Jeff’s words were now laced with annoyance. Annoyance with Harry, with the situation, with the media. When Harry failed to say anything further, Jeff pushed again. “So? Tell me what there is to tell and I can find a way out of this for you.”

Harry explained as much as he could, leaving out the raunchier details. He started to speak about ‘kiwi girl’ (as twitter had affectionately nicknamed you), when Jeff held up a hand. “I’m gonna stop you right there, H. Do not tell me this girl is a fan.” Harry’s silence and hanging head was a dead giveaway that you were, in fact, a fan. “And I’m assuming this is the same girl you upgraded the night after?” Harry nodded this time, standing from his seat to pace the length of the room instead. Jeff’s head was in his hands, sighing as he half-yelled “rule number one is you do. not. sleep. with. fans,” slamming the tip of his pen into the table with every word.

“It’s not-“ Harry started. “Not like that, I know. It’s never like that, mate.” Jeff finished for Harry, eyes finding the back of Harry’s head. “Listen, let’s set up an opportunity for more photos with a different woman. Make out you’re having a bit of a phase. Takes the heat off, means you can keep playing with your little fuck-toy in private.”

“She’s not my little fuck-toy,” Harry growled, his irritation threatening to explode out of him. “And I’ve been fucking doing it in private. All of it. Haven’t been with her outside the hotel, not since the first night. Haven’t entered and left at the same time, done everything to keep it fucking private.”

“And no one knows it’s this girl?”

“No, mate. No one else.”

The frosted door swung open, Glenne’s high heels tip-tapping across the marble floor with every step. “Harry!”, she beamed, pulling him in for a lingering hug. “Has my lovely husband been tormenting you?” She looked Harry up and down, eyes full of love and care. He chuckled bitterly, his tired eyes following her back across the room to where she perched on the edge of Jeff’s desk. “This isn’t such a big deal, you know.”

“No, seriously!” she insisted as both men scoffed. “It’s hardly a scandal. ‘Young single man spotted with woman’. It’s not exactly the headline of the century.”

“It is when the world finds out she’s a fan. He’ll be tormented by young girls for the rest of his career now,” Jeff told his wife. “So we don’t let that part get out - not unless you’re serious about her, H. Her family and friends might know if you’re spotted together again, but by the time it has to come out, you’ll be off the market. If you’re not serious, not seeing her again, how you met never has to leave this room. Besides, you’ve been tormented by young girls for years already.”

Harry had no idea how Glenne did it. She always managed to find the best solution, easy fixes that passed right under his and Jeff’s noses. “That works for me,” he sighed, the rubber band snapping from around his chest, finally able to breathe fully and deeply. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out quickly, praying it would be from you. It was Anne.

mum: Just got to the station. Think you have a bit of a situation so will see you later !! Xx

“Mum’s here. I need to go, Jeff. Thank you, Glenne,” Harry muttered as he fled the office, holding his hands up in a prayer position. He sent you a quick text as he left, having not heard from you since he’d left you this morning. Harry was relieved to have a plan, but his heart was still heavy. He should have warned you how quickly things can get real when you’re associated with him. He was so used to fooling around with other women in the industry, women who already knew the ins and outs of life with a celebrity. If the world learned your name, your life would be changed irreversibly. He’d seen what it had done to others, how the media had shared their private details, their families details. You might have known it was a risk, but neither of you had seen this coming so quickly. You hadn’t even discussed it, it was far too soon to even think about what would happen when the bubble burst.

—

You and Joanie had ended up in almost the exact position you were for night one, just as she wanted. You were wearing your red outfit today, wishing you’d worn that on Tuesday to match with Harry. Everything came back to Tuesday. A white denim skirt hugged your hips, carefully hand-painted red hearts dotted all over the material. You’d paired it with a bright red off the shoulder top, and Joanie next to you was wearing the same but in inverted colours. You were glad to have her close by your side tonight, glad to have been able to tell her the bare minimum about your aching heart. She’d insisted on bringing a funny sign tonight, desperate to catch Harry’s attention and make you smile. ‘my bestie had her heart broken, can you cheer her up ?!’, the sign read. You would keep your fingers crossed for the rest of your life if it meant Harry didn’t see the sign, didn’t notice you at all tonight.

He seemed more muted than usual, his dances and energy toned down in comparison to his usual self. You wondered if he’d tried to contact you at all today. Your phone had barely charged before you left for Joanie’s, then died again on your way over. You hadn’t bothered to charge it up since, preferring to ignore the internet for today at least. Harry knew where you were if he wanted to see you.

Joanie’s fingernails were digging into your arm, her screams bordering on nutty as Harry pulled his guitar strap over his head, mere feet in front of you once again. His eyes had glanced over you a few times, but he hadn’t noticed you. Either because he didn’t want to, or his mind was elsewhere. “Don’t tell me he’s going to-“, Joanie started, screaming again as the opening chords to ‘boyfriends’ echoed through the stadium. You couldn’t help the tears that immediately welled in your eyes, threatening to spill down your blushed cheeks. You hadn’t even thought about crying all day, hadn’t felt as though you needed to and now it was all pushing to the surface.

Boyfriends

Are they just pretending?

Joanie wrapped an arm around your waist, using her thumb to wipe a tear from your eye. You rested your head against her shoulder, giving a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You weren’t even sure what made you so upset, but your heart couldn’t stop aching now that you thought about what had happened that morning- then it hit you. Harry hadn’t even asked you how you felt this morning, thought for a second how these pictures could affect you. After how attentive he’d been for days, it felt like a slap in the face. Had he been pretending? Did he only want you in his bed, only care when it was your secret?

They don't tell you where it's heading

You kept your eyes fixed on Harry, his dark pupils scanning the crowd in front of him through heavy eyelids. They lingered on you for only half a second, not long enough for anyone to notice but long enough for you to watch his breath catch in his throat. His eyes clouded over, blinking rapidly as he cleared his throat and looked away from you.

And you know the game's never ending

He stepped back from the microphone, signalling to the crowd to sing for him as he turned his back, the gut-wrenching glisten of tears in his eyes visible for a split second.

He whispered something to Sarah as the song finished and stepped closer to the microphone, his rich voice suddenly crooning, “baby, you were the love of my life”. Harry’s eyes looked anywhere except for you, hurt and shame written all over his face. He knew he’d acted like a dick today, from the way he handled the situation with you, to the way he spoke to Jeff, to the way he made almost no time for his darling mum and sister before the show. He needed to make it all alright, most of all with you. He silently prayed that you’d know these songs were for you, feel what he was trying to convey.

He moved over to the opposite side of the stage, turning to point at Jonny’s place when he mentioned it. Yours and Joanie’s faces flashed up on the screen, Joanie waving her sign around like a mad woman while you wiped your teary eyes. You laughed at the sight of the two of you, you made an insane pair. Harry was watching the screen as he sang, desperate to let his eyes linger on you without actually doing just that. He blew a kiss to your general area as the band played out, girls around you screaming. He walked past you on his way back to the main stage, watching you subtly catch his kiss with the hand still trying to dry your eyes. That soothed him a little, lifted his mood just enough to get through the remainder of the show.

—

Harry explained everything to Anne and Gemma after the show, head in his hands as they sighed and groaned at his story. “Harry Edward, you’re a very bad man sometimes,” Anne gasped, swatting at his knee. “You got this poor girl obsessed with you, then you ditch her at the first sign of trouble?”

“Oi, I didn’t ditch her!,” he said, his vibe not too far from that of a petulant teenager’s. “I needed to deal with the business side, needed t’sort out Jeff.”

Gemma placed a hand on Harry’s forearm, “have you spoken to her? Explained it all? Y/n is probably going out of her mind right now, H.”

“I think her phones off, we haven’t spoken all day,” Harry sighed. He didn’t have the words to explain to himself, or his family, why this felt like a much bigger problem than it was. Why his heart was so much heavier than it should have been for someone he’d only known for 4 days. “It’s getting late now, go and get some rest darling. See if you can reach her tonight, you’ve got us all day tomorrow.” Anne rose from her seat, tugging on Harry’s wrists to get him moving. She pulled him in for a cuddle when he stood, knowing a mother’s hug can make the biggest problems seem smaller. He held her tight, taking a deep sniff of her floral, earthy scent. She smelled like home. It always seemed to calm him down.

“You did amazing tonight, my special baby boy. Love you so much, we can’t wait to get some proper time with you tomorrow,” Anne said, a radiant grin spreading across her face. She never wanted to see him torn up about anything, hated watching him fall in and out of love every so often, healing the hurt and heartbreak he wore so well. But having her little boy in her arms was more than enough to warm her heart.

—

Harry knocked on your door, feeling sheepish. He was usually far too stubborn to trail back with his tail between his legs so soon, but this was different. You hadn’t done him wrong, hadn’t bought him anything other than joy. You were the innocent pawn in someone else’s game, a game that he hadn’t realised could, and had, hurt you both. He let the gift bag he held fall to his side when you didn’t answer, his clenched wrist going limp.

He knocked again after a few minutes, and again a few minutes after that. He couldn’t hear anything inside, but that didn’t mean you weren’t in there. He turned on his heel, deciding to head back upstairs, hoping he’d at least get a text from you before he slept. Then he saw you, trudging towards the door, eyes fixed on your phone screen. Your hair was hanging down your back in a messy braid, the t-shirt Harry had loaned to you on Monday night engulfing your slender frame. You looked up as you got nearer, brown eyes locking onto his. Stopping in your tracks, you felt the wings of a thousand butterflies knocking against the inner walls of your belly, heart beating like a ticking time bomb. The hallway was silent, the weight of a thousand things you wanted to say to each other but couldn’t find the words to say hanging over your heads. “Hey,” you smiled, reaching for your keycard. “I just went to get some food, is everything okay?”

Harry let out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, stepping forward to wrap you up in his arms. Your bodies melted into each other, your hands splayed against Harry’s back, cradling him so tight you thought you might never let go. “Everything’s okay,” he mumbled, pink lips spreading into a warm smile. Holding onto each other, just being close, was enough to make it right.

You let the two of you inside, unpacking your food onto the countertop as Harry lingered behind you. “I got sushi, there’s enough for two if you want to stay,” you offered.

You both sat on the bed to eat, giggles cutting through a peaceful silence as you watched reruns of the Office. Harry’s fingers found yours after a while, his thumb tracing shapes on the back of your hand. “I got you something,” he told you, standing up to grab the gift bag from where he’d left it.

Your eyes were wide with curiosity as you untied the white ribbon, pulling a handwritten note from a tiny envelope.

‘heard you got your heart broken. thought this could cheer you up’.

You shook your head as you read it, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. “I told her not to take that sign,” you laughed. “I tried to tell her a bit this morning but it’s a little hard to explain.” Harry grinned, “it was sweet. Though I bet she’ll be mortified if she knows she told me I broke your heart.”

A dark green velvet jewellery box sat in the bottom of the bag, slimline and dainty. You looked up at Harry, as if unsure this was for you. “Open it,” he smiled, words coming out small. Inside was the most beautiful necklace you’d ever seen. A tiny chain, the perfect shade of gold to complement your other jewellery. At the bottom of the chain sat a tiny H, studded with imitation diamonds. You bought the box closer to your face, fingers tracing delicately over the elegant design. “H,” you whispered, totally taken aback by the gift. “For Harry,” he smirked. “Do you like it?”

You were stunned, your mouth trying and failing to form words. All you could do was keep tracing over the pendant, eyes glancing between the necklace and the man sitting in front of you. “I love it, Harry. I really do,” you eventually managed, grateful tears filling up your eyes. You set the box down beside you, closing the distance between you and Harry. He held a warm hand to your cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to the end of your nose. “Turn around, let me help you put it on.”

He secured the chain around your neck, peppering soft kisses across your back. “It’s beautiful Harry, really. I can’t thank you enough,” you sighed, fiddling with the H as you spoke. You leaned back against his chest, turning your head slightly to nuzzle against the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry baby, I really am,” he spoke. “Didn’t mean t’rush out on you in such a hurry.”

“Harry, it’s f-“, you interrupted, wanting to put the whole day behind you now that you had him back. “It’s not fine. Didn’t like you seeing me so pissed off, I wanted to get away and sort it all out. But I hurt you.” He was speaking softer now, his voice gentle. “You didn’t Harry, I was confused that’s all. I didn’t know what any of this meant, for you or for us.”

“And I should’ve spoken to you, got on the same page so we could handle it together.” You pulled away from him as he spoke, turning your body around to face him again. You could see the shame etched into every line on his face, the way he’d beaten himself up all day showing in his eyes. You rested your hand on the side of his neck, thumb stroking the sharp edge of his jawline. “You got it sorted though?” you asked. “All sorted, princess. Had to tell everyone everything though. Even told my mum,” he smiled meekly. “Yeah? Told her how pretty and perfect I am?” you grinned, fluttering your eyelashes. “Told her you’re the prettiest girl in the world. After her of course.”

He really did think you were the prettiest girl in the world. Especially now, in his t-shirt, wearing his initial around your neck. Your hair was messy, your skin fresh. The evening light seeping in from the window was illuminating you from behind, giving you an angelic glow.

“Have you showered?” you asked him. “Yeah. But I’ll have another one if it means more time with you,” he grinned, already yanking his hoodie over his head.

—

You were taking turns under the water, laughing and joking as you manoeuvred around each other in the small space. “Give me a kiss,” Harry smiled. “Since when have you asked for kisses?” you laughed, poking at his chest. “Don’t know if I deserve one today.”

“Lucky for you, I can’t deny you any,” you said as you leaned towards him. He held onto the back of your head as his lips met yours. His lips were as warm and as soft as they’d ever been, the tickle of his hot breath sending sparks down your spine. Your tongue darted out of your parted lips, licking a trail across his bottom teeth before slipping into his mouth. Harry moved his mouth to your throat, suckling on your wet skin. “Gonna mark you up, show everyone you’re mine,” he whispered. He ran his tongue over the bruise he left behind, before continuing to kiss down your body, pausing to nibble on your perky nipple. He licked a circle around your belly button as your hands found his wet hair, shifting your body to lean against the tiled wall.

“Open up for me,” he asked, nose nudging into the space where your thighs met. He rested back on his heels, admiring your pussy. “So perfect, my sweet girl,” he drawled, fingers tracing up the inside of your thigh. His warm face was so close to right where you needed him, mouth so close that his tongue could reach out and have a taste. His mouth was watering at the sight of your arousal wetting your folds. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to taste you, wet his face with your juices, have you screaming as you came on his tongue.

You were whimpering as soon as Harry’s lips made contact with your pussy, his tongue lapping into your folds. He was eating you like he’d been starving, like your pussy was the first and only thing he’d ever be allowed to enjoy. His nose grazed over your clit as he licked at your entrance, sending your hips bucking into his mouth as the bundle of nerves lit on fire. He chuckled at your body’s reaction, murmuring a slurred, “need daddy to give you more?” You tugged on his curls in response, breathless and unable to speak. He moved immediately to focus on your clit, his lips wrapping around your button as he sucked and popped. He moaned against you, the vibrations shooting pleasure deep into your core.

You’d never found much pleasure from someone’s mouth, yet Harry’s was taking you to places you’d never been before. Your back was arched off the wall, fingertips buried so deep in his hair you could pierce his scalp. Your eyes were grainy, the hot steam from the shower swirling around your head. You felt like you were in a trance, moans and incoherent words slipping out of your mouth uncontrollably.

Harry gripped onto the back of your thigh, steadying himself as he pulled his mouth closer into your entrance. His tongue was licking deeper into you, one finger rubbing circles around your clit. “Harry,” you whimpered, feeling your legs begin to buckle beneath you. Your orgasm rolled over you in waves, your body so limp yet so tense under his touch. His tongue kept fucking into you, his hard cock twitching between his legs as you screamed out a strangled moan. You pulled one hand out of his curls, gripping onto the shower caddy to keep yourself from collapsing. Your head was spinning, stars all you could see as Harry rode you through your high. Between the water dripping from his hair, and your juices drenching his face, Harry thought he could drown. He’d die happily here, nestled between your legs, lips attached to your perfect pussy for eternity.

He pulled away after a moment, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit before standing, pulling your weak body into his arms. “Always do so good for me, baby girl,” he cooed, pushing the wet strands of hair off of your forehead. He could get drunk off the way you looked post-orgasm, your cheeks flushed and pupils blown. The way your mouth never fully closed and your breasts jumped as your chest heaved. Harry got a kick out of knowing he did that to you, he bought you that pleasure.

His cock bumped against your hips as he helped you out the shower, your hands all over each other as you pushed him towards the granite countertop. “What’s bought this on?” Harry smirked, not used to seeing you take such an active role. It had been established pretty early on that Harry was a giver, all he wanted was to pleasure you, and you had no problems being a taker. But his cock had been calling out to you for days, begging you for a taste. “Where you going?” he asked you, head tilting to the side as your hands slithered down his body, your knees hitting the tiled floor. You stayed silent, pressing kisses up the inside of his thigh. You bit down into the fleshy part near the top, quickly licking over the teeth marks. Harry shuddered as you nipped at his skin, repeating the move up and down both his thighs. You suckled at the skin next to his base, leaving your mark. A perfect little purple bruise, a matching tattoo.

You looked up at him as he reached down to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip, his butterfly tattoo seemingly flapping its wings as he breathed in and out. “Gonna stuff daddy’s cock into that pretty little mouth?” he rasped, his thighs tensing as you hacked spit into your palms. You stroked his member up and down, up and down, again and again as you pressed swollen-mouthed kisses to his thick tip. Holding a hand at his base, you licked a line down the underside of his shaft, then took his tip in your mouth hungrily. He was far bigger than you’d ever had, and you were unsure of how well your usual tricks would work on someone his size.

He whimpered as you took him further in your mouth, your warm cheeks tightening against his length as you sucked. Your hand moved up and down the inches of him you couldn’t manage to take, swirling your heated tongue around his head as you pulled him further out. “Knew you could be a good little slut for daddy,” he drawled, gathering your dripping hair and using it to guide your head up and down his cock. He kept his free hand steadied on the countertop, mouth dropping open as you popped off of his head and moved your mouth to his balls. Harry threw his head back as you suckled at his sack, rolling your tongue against the soft, sensitive skin. Your hand continued tugging against his length as you worked, your nose bumping the underside of his foreskin. “Fuck baby, give me more, please,” he groaned, wrapping your long hair around his fist. You switched your hand and your mouth, fondling his balls while you stuffed his cock back into your mouth. You looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes as you took his member further than you had before, reaching as far as you could before gagging against his head. His hand tugged at your hair somewhat involuntarily as your throat closed around him, a choked moan squeezing out against his tip. Your eyes were red, tears brewing above your lower lashes. “Taste so fucking good daddy,” you told him, mouth moving up and down faster now, humming in appreciation as his cock twitched in your throat.

Harry had never seen you look so sexy, not when you took his cock so well, not when you were coming on his tongue. Like this, stark naked on the bathroom floor, his cock lodged between your perfect swollen pout, this is what he wanted to remember. Have the image etched in his brain forever, see you like this every time he closed his eyes. His balls felt heavy in your hand, loaded with the cum he couldn’t wait to shoot down your pretty little throat. “Fuck, princess. I’m gonn- gonna come if you keep doing that,” he warned, his voice deep with lust. You moaned against him, keeping your lips wrapped tightly around his girthy member, your perfect H pendant swinging against your chest as you bobbed back and forth. You splayed your free hand against his thigh as it started to shake, looking up his body to see his abs tensing, his pecs twitching as you bought him close to climax. “Come for me daddy,” you whined against him, words muffled by his cock taking over your throat. He pulled his head down to his chest, eyes screwed tight and jaw slack as he came violently, thick cum splashing against the back of your throat. You swallowed around his head, ribbons of cum flooding your cheeks. You moved the hand cradling his sack to stroke his length, riding him through his orgasm. His hips jutted towards you, your hair wound tightly around his clenched fist.

His grip eased up as he came down from his high, darkened eyes opening to look down at you as you removed your mouth from him completely. You had his juices dripping out of your mouth, eyes threatening to spill over as you wiped them with the back of your hand. “Never seen anything so pretty in my whole life,” Harry smiled, rubbing the curve of your neck.

You dried yourselves off, fluffy towels soothing your aching, exhausted bodies. Crawling into bed still naked, you and Harry faced each other, whispering sweet nothings as you kissed over each others faces. He fell asleep before you, one arm draped across your chest, hand still cupping your jaw. Your phone lit up with a text from Joanie,

J: everything ok? you happy?

You snapped a selfie, Harry’s strong hand barely visible in the pitch black room. You sent it to her, captioned simply, the happiest

part five

taglist: @ameerakane20

you can join my taglist here 🫶🏼

#harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry edward styles #harry styles x fan #harry styles x y/n #harry styles series #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic

824 notes · View notes

galedekarios · 2 months

Text

this is a personal vent post so please let me just get it all out without trying to come at me lol:

so many ppl saying they respect larian's decision to peace out and not deal with hasbro/wotc, but i have to be honest, i don't respect them at all.

they are leaving a game behind that is unfinished and a narrative mess.

they leave a game behind where everyone paid the same amount of money for it, yet depending on which character you prefer, you get less content.

the disparity between everyone else and their writer's pet ast*rion is insane. he has a half to a third more content depending on which character you compare him to.

they leave behind a sparse act 2, which is already so barren compared to act 1 and all it had to offer. act 3 is a narrative mess and lacks structure.

they leave a game behind where they made promises a handful of weeks before release where they ought to have known that they, in fact, will not be delivering said promises: access to the upper city, consequences for playing certain races across the acts (playing a drow is going to be different in act 1 and gives you advantages vs act 3 where it would give you understandable disadvantages), etc etc etc.

they leave behind a game where content was cut from the companions to make it seem like the origins have something to offer when that system is barely able to compare what origin playthroughs offered in dos2 and it hurts the game and the experience (like tara being cut for companion gale).

they leave behind a game where they promised to much variety and proclaimed in panels from hell how they struggled to show the width and depth of the game, but really? it's about as deep as a puddle. a lot of the choices do not matter. kill ethel? nah, she's alive and well in the city. no sister hags to be angry here. give karlach no infernal iron and never talk to her at all? doesn't matter, she'll survive until the end of act 3 and will still call you her bff. dissuade gale to use the orb? we'll make sure he'll still offer 3 more times just in case. send yenna away from camp bc you don't want her there? doesn't matter, she'll stay. and yes, i'm aware these are all small things, but they are part of a larger problem. almost nothing you do truly matters to the point of where i just skip most things in act 1 and 2 now.

they leave behind a game that they promise to still patch, but some things have been broken since early access / release to the point of where i'm like i'm sorry, but your word that you will continue to patch things means about as much to me as all the other empty promises. the dialogue about morena dekarios is still broken and it's been over half a year now. the astral sea scene has low-res body textures for months. i know from mutuals who love minthara that her romance is still broken. and i could go on and on.

and what gets me the most about this is all is that they have learned nothing at all from dos2: act 3 of that game was so bugged and all over the place that i couldn't muster up the motivation to finish it the first time i played. they neglected a character to the point of where he could have been removed from the game or made a general hireling (beast).

those issues were at least attempted to be fixed in the definitive edition.

with swen saying that there will be no new content anymore and stating that both bg3 and its characters are now property of wotc/hasbro, it seems unlikely we'll even get an attempt of a fix.

so what this boils down to to me is just another game company not delivering on their promises after overselling their product and more or less abandoning it after a year to move onto the next big thing.

i don't think i can respect that ngl.

#vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: personal #larian critical #bg3 critical

268 notes · View notes

riririnnnn · 3 months

Text

Warning: Anime Spoilers.

I think about this panel a lot:

And this one too:

I don't understand why people think that Sae changed after Spain. I mean, that boy has always been blunt and rude. After calling Rin incredible the day the younger Itoshi barged into his soccer match, Sae never actually praised Rin; that boy literally said, "If it's you, then you can be the best after me." He had always criticised Rin's play/goals and was never really like, "Ooh, my cute patootie lil otouto."

Also, this:

Imagine coming back home after 4 years, and your little brother accuses you of changing. Further, this was the first time, when Rin talked back to his Nii-chan; we need to get Sae's perspective of this flashback too.

Sae literally had his suitcase with him when he came to that field; that boy's ass landed and the first thing he did is to go to his little brother.

And:

Of course, Sae would bet like this. Rin himself said, "Nii-chan doesn't like losing." Also, is that just drawing style or those are eyebags/dark circles under Sae's eyes? And Rin literally pointed out, "Have you lost weight?" It's clearly visible that whatever happened in Spain, Sae wasn't in his happiest state.

It also wasn't like Sae jumped onto Rin on sight. The older Itoshi had tried to explain how different is the world stage and lalalalala, it was Rin himself who was acting naïve and immature, and didn't give Sae proper time to explain himself.

But this:

I agree is really harsh, but if we take in account of the fact that Sae has been a rude person from the start, then what he said isn't really wrong. Rin's inner monologue was literally, "Can I be cool like Nii-chan too?" when he barged into the soccer match.

It isn't/wasn't completely Sae's fault for Rin to idolise him.

Also, I don't blame Sae for hating Japan's soccer/football (whatever you call it) because imagine being treated as a nation's treasure at the age of 13 years old, only to find that you ain't shit in the world (as pointed out by Sendou, Sae is only a reserve in Royale Madrid/Re Al).

To sum everything up, I do think that Sae got a really harsh slap from reality in Spain, and he really didn't want Rin to go through the same. That's why he tried to explain Rin about everything only to realise that Rin's main aim was never to be the best striker in the world, it was just to be with his Nii-chan, and it irked Sae. After whatever happened in Spain, Sae must've made some kind of safe place in Rin that he could see his dream come true through his younger brother, but Rin wasn't heading to that direction especially when he couldn't even defeat Sae and there are, as stated by Sae himself, better player in the whole world than him— must've been a hard hit for Sae to know that his dreams have really ended; maybe that's why he was so interested in Blue Lock? He could finally see someone who could make his dream be true after all; maybe that's why he is so obsessed with passing to the best striker in world (I'm referring to his wish to make the best pass to the best striker in the world if it were to be his last day on Earth) because he is seeing his own dream in that person.

This post might seem jumbled and it is jumbled, but it's my first time trying to make some kind of theory, so please be kind.

Edit: Sae isn't a reserve in Royale Madri/Re Al. He is a second division player. Sorry, I misread some things.

#blue lock #bllk #itoshi rin #itoshi sae #blue lock theory #bllk theory #idk how tags work #雪 ranting

148 notes · View notes

xrenjunniesx · 4 months

Note

Hi I love your account can you please write dreamies revealing their relationship with a non idol reader

when they reveal your relationship

Idol!nct dream x non-idol!reader

a/n - I really struggled on this for some reason so I’m sorry for the longer wait

mark

you two were just trying to enjoy an evening at a bar for a friends birthday. the back of the bar was booked out meaning no fans were going to even be allowed in. it wasn’t fans that were the problem, but rather it was one of the staffs who recognised mark as an idol.

a photo of the two of you hugging each other and another one of mark kissing your cheek was revealed to the public and immediately the response was strong.

people you knew were recognising you and contacting you, EVERYONE was freaking out.

mark didn’t know at first until you called him, panicking as you explained what happened. he left his schedule as quick as he could and went home to you, calling the company to set a meeting to see where to go from here. he is rather mature about the situation and oddly calm, mainly because he knew this kind of thing was bound to happen one day.

doesn’t mean he isn’t panicking though.

renjun

he was the one who saw the post revealing photos of you two shopping together. in fact he saw the post before it even reached the general public. he was quick to get staff and his members to try and get the post taken down but it grew more popular by the minutes and eventually it was making headlines.

he called you and talked to you through what had happened. he was trying to be calm because this wasn’t the end of the world but damn did it feel like that as he read through the public’s opinion.

he did see a few positive comments but the negative outweighed them, so he deletes his social media apps of his phone, only posting photos on Instagram every now and then before deleting again. goes inactive until everything has calmed down for his own mental health and his suggest you do the same - even if it takes months.

jeno

you two were talking in the background of a behind the scenes video uploaded to the youtube channel. the editors thought you were a staff member, they didn’t even notice you and jeno hugging in the background that was only shown for a split second.

the clip was instantly being spread around and the youtube video was re-edited but it didn’t stop the original from being shown.

when he saw it he was a little shocked since he didn’t even notice that there was any type of camera in the room at that moment, which was why he was comfortably talking to you in the middle of the room.

you contacted him minutes later after he first saw it, crying in a moment of worry for what this all meant for you both.

he will reassure you but he will also be just as worried and be telling you to be careful if you go out anywhere JUST IN CASE.

haechan

on a live one of the fans asked what time it was there and he showed the fans his phone, not realising he hadn’t turned notifications off. you sent a message at that exact moment saying, “love, I’ll be home soon.” he moved the phone away quickly but he knew he was done for. he laughed it off awkwardly at first before apologising and ending the live.

he called you as soon as the live was over. “BABE I JUST REVEALED YOUR TEXT OH MY GOD”

you’re both freaking out but once you’re home he tries to calm down and think maturely about this. “look… they can’t ALL hate me? I’ll still be able to make music…” He is thinking positively and refusing to pick his phone up because he knows if he goes online he will only think negatively.

jaemin

you were somewhat a youtuber, and in one of your vlogs, in the background as you walked with the camera through your house there was a picture of you and jaemin.

people managed to recognise it immediately and you were shocked because you didn’t even notice it when you were editing. you contact jaemin, worrying what he would say. you speak so fast into the phone that he didn’t even get to say anything until you were done speaking.

“love… it’s okay we can sort this out.” “I am so sorry jaemin.” “it’s okay, I’ll contact the company then I’ll call you right back, okay?”

you both ended up just coming out about the situation and admitting your dating. you take a break from your socials.

the only positive to this situation is that he gets to see you more since he doesn’t have to hide anything anymore. you can go to his place and he can go to yours!

chenle

there was two instances where he accidentally revealed it and he didn’t even realise that fans would connect these two instances. the first thing was when he accidentally followed your account on instagram. he went on bubble not long after he made it seem light hearted, “oh I accidentally followed an account while going through reels.”

the second time was when a fan asked to be daegals mother and he instantly said, “she already has a mother. WHICH is me I’m the mother and father. I’m the only one she needs.” he panicked as he spoke and tried to play it off.

fans put the two times together and looked more into it, figuring out that you two HAD to be dating. the one and only time the crazy fans were right.

he is panicking when he realises fans were figuring it out and instantly gets in contact with both you and the company. you’re a bit more calm over the phone about this than he is but when you see him in person you’re also freaking out.

jisung

you two were seen together out in public. it was really late at night when the two of you were going for a walk to a local shop near your place to get some late night food.

fans approached jisung, leaving you both shocked since he was disguised pretty well in your opinion.

the fans kept pestering you both so you two ran away- literally.

it made headlines the next day, and you laughed at the photos of you running away with jisung. your laughter was really just covering for how nervous and worried you were though. He on the other hand was texting everyone he trusted and getting all sorts of different advice.

he is really worried about what this meant for his future and he might consider a hiatus to avoid having to face the fans for a bit if the response is really negative.

230 notes · View notes

ayustuff · 5 months

Text

ᴇᴠᴇɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ɪ ᴍᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪѕ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴ ɪᴄᴇ | ᴘʜ!ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ × ɢɴ!ғɪɢᴜʀᴇ ѕᴋᴀᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

『　ᴀɴᴏɴ: Hi there! I love your writing so much - you’re so talented 😭 Can you write a pro hero Bakugo x figure skater reader who’s going to a competition and he surprises them there??　』

➴ | ᴀ/и: awwiee thankies! ♡ i'm sorry i can't answer your og ask bc i can't edit the draft so i had to re-create hshshs (i still don't know how this app works) anyway you get it, back to da post!

• ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1ᴋ+

• ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ: a little angst, fluff all around. (and forgive me if some of this are not realistic hshshs idk the rules of figure skating!)

• ʟɪɴᴋѕ: request a fanfic | navi (where the rules are stated)

in katsuki's mind, he thinks he wouldn't make it due to his busy job, he even yelled at his secretary for not making a proper out-of-work day for him. the secretary right now is probably on the edge, you are still amused that they haven't gotten fired or quit.

and for you, you weren't expecting him to be here either, you thought he was busy and you're okay with that but katsuki didn't seem to want to miss one of your competition. he's even on time when the building opened, hell, he even checked if you're all fine, not hungry or anything, and made sure you had a good stretch before you stepped a foot on the ice.

he is acting like he's half your coach and half your mom! though the moment his rough hand meets your soft skin such as to correct your position while stretching has you melting, has his hands ever been that big?

not to mention, he is definitely holding back from squishing every part of your body.

once the program started you bid him a goodbye for now, a kiss on the cheek goodbye for luck you say. hot damn, you really want to get out of the friendzone don't you?

eventually he got dumbfounded at the kiss, absent mindedly looking for his seat among the fans and sit on his paid chair.

after katsuki regained his conciousness he start to observe the other participants before you and after you, by that, he already knew you're gonna win. he just know it, his baby... actually his best friend is gonna take the trophy home like he does.

his face was in all awe and his eyes had the same sparks in them as the first time he watched you performing to now. and you know those pretty outfits you wear when you perform? yes, you have that on, it always makes him bubbly in the inside seeing or even thinking of you with it on.

like what katsuki predicted, you won, he's the first feral dog that ran to you with a grin on his face and he's the one to congratulate you with a pat on the top of your head.

when all the interview, awarding, and other things are done, here he is hugging you from your behind as you two walk to the parking lot just behind the building in this winter night, it's like you both depend for warmth against the cold temperature.

looking up at his face with red blush, you quietly slip your hands on his hands and intertwine your fingers with his. his skin turned a little pale from the cold and he has red blushes over his knuckles, cheeks, nose, and ears, you are thinking to yourself maybe the extra blush is because of you... as a natural confirmation from your heart it says maybe you're right.

"i still love you from that day." he whispers to himself though you didn't really comprehend what he was saying because it was muffled by his thick scarf. you only shrugged and didn't say anything, you just want him to hold you this close everyday even if it is the winter that only caused this to happen... and well it isn't really mentioned by the two of you, he surprisingly took the initiative to hug you from your behind while saying a small 'shut up' when you opened your mouth to tease him about 'not being cold'.

at the way to you two's shared apartment, you immediately shaked katsuki as soon as you saw a possible skating area of what looks like a sturdy frozen lake. you instantly invited him to ice skate with you even if you just finished competing.

katsuki sighs with a slight smile, "still not tired?" he drives the car near the lake and parks it there. your gentleman then gets out of the car to open your door, you give him a cheeky grin and hopped out of the car with your rather expensive ice skates and another pair.

"what's the other pair for, hah?" he asked despite that he already had a feeling that you would force him to ice skating, you always force him in doing things anyway so he became more comfortable with it.

kneeling down facing his shoes you respond, "for you." you made him sit on the grass, take his shoes off and replaced it with the ice skates. finishing, you give his leg a pat then stepped on the ice. waiting for him to join you, you held katsuki's hands as if this was his first. even these little things makes katsuki's heart go flutter.

katsuki didn't really need a help since he's good at learning new things plus he already went on a few ice skating with you, bonus points that you're a really good teach to him.

looking deep into your eyes, katsuki drifts to the thoughts in his mind when he whispered to himself 'i still love you from that day.' earlier in the parking lot. katsuki never really knew when he fell, he just knew when he realized it. one thing he's sure, he's fallen inlove with you for such a long time already. to think about it his heart already pounded when you get closer to him before he realized that he's fallen.

even if you two spend so much time together, he hasn't confessed and it's okay. with you he didn't have to say 'i love you.' when he already has you with him everyday, he doesn't need to say it because he already has your attention, you already care for him, and you already give him affection.

and katsuki wouldn't say 'i love you.' just to hear you say 'i love you too as a friend!' even if you don't understand what he is truly the meaning of what he said because your dense, he just doesn't want his heart broken. even if you don't mean it, it hurts, it hurts so bad and this all is enough for now.

171 notes · View notes

colleendoran · 2 years

Text

The Secret Language of a Page of Chivalry: Gone Fishing

Neil Gaiman's Chivalry is a sweet and simple story on the surface, but is full of allusions and literary references, and the symbolism in the art, as well as the art style, serves as meta-narrative.

Previous post re: the symbolism in the art for Chivalry over HERE.

One of the pages readers ask about the most is this one, where Mrs. Whitaker in the Oxfam shop finds an old book entitled The Romance and Legend of Chivalry (1912).

Written by Scottish author A. R. Hope Moncrieff, this popular tome was published in multiple printings and editions in many languages. While most of his books were intended for young boys, they would be over the heads and/or not to the taste of many modern readers.

They are dense and wordy, but I love them.

You can find good copies of the first edition with the gorgeous cover you see here at reasonable prices. If you can spare $20-$30, you shouldn't have to settle for cheap, modern editions which are ugly and don't have that pretty gold stamping.

It should be obvious why Mrs. Whitaker has focused on this book during the course of Chivalry.

What some didn't understand is the reference there in the top corner written in red pen: "Ex Libris Fisher".

This translates to "From the Library of Fisher" as in The Fisher King.

The Fisher King otherwise known as King Pelles, Sir Galaad's grandfather. (And for those who don't understand why Galahad is spelled Galaad, an explanation HERE.)

The inset images in the illuminated manuscript sequences aren't just there to dress up the page. They have meaning.

On this page the meaning is pretty obvious: in the upper right, a fish, then an image of a man fishing, then young Galaad, then the castle. Also, King Pelles holds a spear.

King Pelles was known as The Fisher King because he had a disabling wound and was unable to do much of anything but sit in his boat and go fishing.

There are a number of layers of meaning to the tale of the Fisher King, the most obvious being that the king, also known as the Grail King, charged with the task of protecting the Holy Grail, is a fisher even as Christ is a fisher of men.

But the Fisher King, it is implied, has been wounded as punishment for a sin, the which sort of varies depending on the King Arthur tale version you read. (The derivation of the name Pelles, or the medieval French word for fish, is a pun on an old French term for sin. Can't find my reference on that, sorry.)

Pelles was wounded in the thigh. Some interpret this as a wound to the genitalia, which robbed the king of his vitality. Since the strength of the king was the strength of the land, the land withered as well.

Referring directly to a man's wounded genitals was super-rude back in the day no matter what they do on Twitter now: so it was common to simply refer to a "wound in the thigh" if a man had issues in his nether regions.

The spear the king holds is the Spear of Longinus, which a Roman centurion used to pierce the side of Christ, and which was used to deliver a wound to Pelles, the Dolorous Stroke, a wound which cannot be healed until the coming of the Grail Knight who will ask the right questions and take the right actions.

These actions depend on which versions you read, and we could be here all day going over them and who did them.

As for the sin of Pelles, it is asserted that Pelles was either a philanderer or he refused to marry the woman he should have in order to ensure the bloodline of the Grail. To repair that damage, Pelles sets about getting his daughter Elaine going with Lancelot (by shocking means) to ensure that Galaad is born, because he knows only Galaad can achieve the Grail.

In Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur, the story is rather confusing and the role of King Pelles gets split between Pelles and another king.

But there are a lot of wonky things in Malory, so don't stress, the man never had an editor, he was in jail while he wrote most of the book, and he did his best.

Pelles is healed by the Holy Blood on the spear. Or a knight asking the right questions. Or by drinking from the Grail.

Depending on who is telling the story.

With the Achievement of the Grail and the redemption of King Pelles by the knights, in particular his grandson Galaad/Galahad, the king is healed, sins are forgiven, and the land is healed.

Mrs. Whitaker, who is being visited by young Galaad on a quest, has just found a tome in an Oxfam shop that once belonged to Galaad's grandfather.

Pelles, who failed to be as chivalrous as he should have been and ended up spending a lot of time fishing instead of running his country, perhaps learned some lessons from The Romance and Legend of Chivalry that got passed down to Galaad, because this Neil Gaiman tale is Twilight Zone-ish like that.

And now you know.

Thanks to my Patreon patrons for sponsoring this post and so many other wonderful things.

#chivalry #neil gaiman #king arthur #sir galahad #dark horse comics #fantasy graphic novels

1K notes · View notes

void-chara · 4 months

Text

@mcytblrholidayexchange gift for @irrealisms !! you had lots of prompt ideas for writing, but not for art, so i hope you're happy with eclipse federation misery and agony compilation, plus song lyrics

lyric credits: Temporary - Chase Petra / Stranger - The Mechanisms / Easier - The Crane Wives (appears four times) / Two Birds - Regina Spektor / Little Soldiers - The Crane Wives (appears twice) / Heretic Pride - The Mountain Goats

feel free to ask if you want me to adjust some text to make it more readable or something, i think it looks fine but i know different peoples eyes and devices are different, and if i had more time i would definitely have spent more time messing with the colors on everything

speaking. of time. im really sorry i took so long ._. i kind of suck at estimating how long projects will take and how much time i have. thanks for being so patient!!

oh, also, some lyrics and drawings have story reasons for being grouped together, and some went where they looked good. uh. ideally id make sure everything had reason for its location, but this is one area where i did correctly estimate my time, instead of getting stuck in the planning phase.

also in the process of typing all this ive already gone back twice to change stuff in the images and re-add them to the post lol

OH also!! the part where vitalasy jumps off to his death! is as far as i can tell NOT canon accurate!! all the footage shows him jumping off the prison, since thats where he respawns. i didnt think to check this until after id already drawn most of the stuff, and already had the prison drawn, and i didnt want to reorganize the drawing. im telling myself that we only see a few of the later deaths and so theoretically the first one could have been jumping off a grassy ledge somewhere but its still bothering me and i needed to mention it.

anyway yeah really hope you like it i tried some new stuff with this one im not sure how well it turned out and thanks again for being so patient!!

EDITING TO ADD SOME MORE WORDS!!! i love talking about my art! so first, all the text on signs and stuff i did go back and look at videos and vods to make sure was entirely accurate, and i wrote all the words entirely by myself. for the lyrics and other text(death message and DELIVERANCE), i used a text tool first to make sure the words would be neat and where i needed them, and then traced over that on a new layer and deleted the original text layer. my handwritting fucking sucks always no matter what, this was a very necessary step. also! this is officially the first thing i have drawn entirely on my phone, rather than on my ipad like i used to do! also i dont use a stylus of any type i just draw with my finger lol.

#eclipse federation #vitalasy #princezam #itzsubz #mcyt #edited to add EVEN MORE WORDS below the cut. i am the yapper #lifesteal smp #chara makes things #<-somehow both tags i originally forgot.#EDITING AGIN. third edit. first was extra text second was extra tags this is for a critical spelling error(used a - instead of a / as the #divider between two songs by accident)

108 notes · View notes

scourgiez · 2 months

Text

(tumblr made this so crunchy, click for a better res!)

(Edit: I added more stuff and changed some things because yeah I’m obsessed w these two)

love love everyone’s headcanons about Astarion’s now-forgotten family and decided to make my own! As well as my own story about them. I hope my handwriting is readable :”)

As for a brief summary of his parents, (at the start of the BG3 game, because I headcanon them to still be alive somewhere)

Analelle is a moon high elf and is 391 years old. Definitely the smarts of the family. Very quiet and discrete yet cunning when she wants to be. Has a permanent “knowing look”. Usually about 2-3 steps ahead of you at all times.

Lithuryn is a half sun/half moon high elf and is 410 years old. Has dreams of being a noble within Baldur’s Gate and living lavishly with the other nobles there. He isn’t home very much. His work usually takes over his life.

Lots and lots more, sorry folks but i went crazy about these two:

Analelle and Lithruyn lived in Evereska, both working in politics or law within the community and meeting each other through their work. They weren’t exactly nobles within the community but they were very well-off and would be considered upper class. You can headcanon whatever age you want for Astarion but I always lean towards ~240 because it makes the most sense game-wise. They had him when they were in their 150s (about. Math x—x) while still in Evereska, however he only lived there until he was about 15 or so. (I have toyed with the idea of him having an older sibling (about +60 years or so) who ran off and became a druid after they loved to Baldurs Gate and hasn’t really contacted the family since…but that’s just a random theory because fun fact! I read somewhere that High elves are pretty infertile and usually only have a family of 3. So yeah I will leave out rebellious older Druid sibling for now. For now…)

The Ancunin's arrived to Baldur's Gate to work for a highly regarded law firm. This place was the cat's meow even though life was definitely different than it was in Evereska, as they were nobles there. Here, while they are still very wealthy, aren't exactly bumping elbows with the Baldurian nobles. (yet)

Even though they were still forming these connections, they were pretty popular within the elven communities in the city. This unfortunately was how Cazador was alerted to their presence and began his “hunt”. Really, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Astarion had a target on his back for a long time before he died.

Astarion becomes a magistrate through these connections his parents have been making. They absolutely pull strings for him and we’re able to land him a very nice, high-paying job even if Astarion was a little under qualified for the position. Everyone was happy not only because of his job, but that given his upper class clientele he can easily work his way into becoming the Baldurian noble his parents were hoping for. Even if he was corrupt and not the best of people.

The story goes on and as you all know Astarion dies in his mid/late 30's due to the Gur attack. I have more headcanons regarding elf age here, which also talks about how elves dying due to murder is extremely rare in elven communities, so Analelle and Lithuryn just thought it literally could never happen. As for age, I can't describe it all here (it's all in the post I linked), but no Astarion was far from being a "child" biologically, he did however lack the life experience of someone who would have made it to 100 years old.

When they find that Astarion’s grave was defaced and his body missing, they were completely outraged. They were angrily contacting every single high noble of Baldur’s Gate and were on a wild emotionally-charged manhunt to find whoever did this. Cazador knew about this (duh) and started up his plan on how to deal with it. He purposely picks the people that don’t have many connections, but he clearly underestimated how involved the Ancunin family was. It was, at that point, easier to have the town turn against them than kill them and cause a big stink.

This all happened throughout the course of... a week or so. They were getting threatened every day, lost their jobs quickly, and their old noble connections turned against them. Unsure of how Cazador would do this but I can imagine he is really really good at it. They had to leave Baldur's Gate out of fear, never really knowing what happened to Astarion and generally being confused about the whole thing. This is also why Astarion never just. ran into them when he was prowling the streets and even if he had memory of them he wouldn't know where they went, and also why his grave stone was so unkept.

I can’t decide if they picked up their pieces back at Evereska and lived a modest life there, trying not to be noticed, or if they now live away from civilization in order to stay safe. It’s sad but unfortunately that’s just the way it goes with vampires :”)

As for eyes, I headcanon Astarion’s eyes to be blue with gold flecks (like his father’s) because I headcanon him to be a moon elf along with his mom. As much as I adore golden eyes him being a moon elf just makes so much sense! I might change my opinion at random because I’m so indecisive.

Anyway, I hope my incoherent rambles make sense. If i forgot something important lore-wise and it doesn’t fit in with these headcanons… let me know, but if anything this can be an AU. I spent so much time thinking abt it lol.

#the ancunin family #astarion ancunin #analelle ancunin #lithuryn ancunin #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion’s family #bg3 astarion #my art #‘salen avae’ is elvish for ‘my joy’ btw ^^

76 notes · View notes

zoeysdamn · 1 year

Text

Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.4

Summary: You remember memories of your childhood with Xavier, hoping to get some courage from it to talk things out with him. Wednesday starts to suspect something, and Principal Weems isn't happy with either of you.

Warnings: angst, mention of blood, underage drinking, swearing. IMPORTANT: the last part of the taglist had made my tumblr bug so hard so it didn't work, I'm sorry for those who hadn't received a notification while being tagged. If the problem continues for further parts, I'll consider deleting the taglist bc fuck I just lost 40 minutes re-editing this chapter 3 times before finally achieving to post it

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3]

Xavier had been your first kiss. You doubted he remembered it but you definitely did. When your aunt had dropped you at the Thorpe manor for the first time, you were just turning 6 and had that funny haircut that almost hid your eyes. Your aunt Cordelia wasn’t so fond of this hairstyle, but things had been hard for you since your mom’s passing less than six months ago; taking care of the birdnest you were calling hair could wait for the situation to settle down.

Aunt Cordelia had explained to you that you were going to live with a dear friend of hers for some time because she couldn’t take you with her to an upcoming witch congress on the other side of the world. Couldn’t or wouldn’t you didn’t know, to you the only thing that mattered was that you were going to a foreign place, and your mom wasn’t here anymore to comfort you.

“You’ll be fine here,” had assured your aunt while your luggage was taken out of a car by the butler.

“Can’t I come with you?” you had asked again with a wobbling lip and watery eyes.

“You know you can’t pumpkin,” said Aunt Cordelia. “Mr.Thorpe has a son about your age, I’m sure you’ll become friends very fast.”

And just like that, she left, and you found yourself alone in a manor you didn’t know.

Mr.Thorpe had been intimidating but the good thing was he hadn’t more time for you than your aunt did, and as soon he introduced himself to you he left too. So you had fled to your new room and hidden in the closet to cry. You didn’t want to be here, you didn’t even want to be raised by Aunt Cordelia ; you wanted your mom, but that was impossible now.

Then, you had heard the creak of the closet’s door being opened and you had timidly peaked up from behind your hand. A little boy was crouching down to your level, looking at you curiously with his big hazel eyes.

“Why are you sad?” he had asked with his childish voice.

Taken aback by his question, you had wiped the tears on your cheeks, “I’m not sad, I’m just lonely.”

He had looked at you curiously; then he had raised his little hand to brush away the hair that was obstructing your face. The gesture had made you flinch a bit, but he was gentle and somehow, you had felt like you could trust this boy. He had beamed, exposing the gap left by a missing tooth.

“You have pretty eyes!” he had exclaimed.

“Thanks?” you had said unsure, still sniffling.

He nodded vigorously, his smile plastered on his chubby face. Then he extended his hand to you. “Wanna get out of here? I know where the cookies are hidden, we can search for them together, it’ll be fun!”

This brought a small smile to your face for the first time in weeks, and you had taken his hand. Within the next few days, you had your hair cut. That’s how you met Xavier Thorpe.

From there, your friendship bloomed. Aunt Cordelia tried to spend at least six months a year with you, and you lived at her house for that time. Well, she tried, and sometimes you found yourself dropped by the Thorpe manor more than intended. This didn’t bother you, you enjoyed Xavier’s company, and you were best friends after all. And considering his own father was also absent frequently, he loved when you were there. When you turned 12, your aunt brought you along on her trips to make a sort of pilgrimage around all the important sites of witchcraft around the world. According to her, it was time for you to learn more about your history and soak up their energy. The trip was so long, you didn’t see Xavier for two whole years. And when you came back to the Thorpe manor at 14, the both of you had changed a lot. Gone was the little boy with scraped knees and round cheeks, the teenager you met at the door was lanky and definitely taller than you now.

“Hey,” he had greeted you with a lopsided grin. The twinkle in his eyes though hadn’t changed the slightest.

“Hi,” you had smiled back. “You’ve let your hair grow,” you noticed.

“You lost the braces,” he counter-attacked, not losing his smile for a second.

He opened his arms and you didn’t lose a breath before diving into the hug. Oh, you had missed him. You had thought that everything would be like usual, but since puberty, you definitely noticed that things had indeed changed between you two. Your aunt asked a little more about Xavier when you went home, and you didn’t look at him the same way. He was more…attractive somehow; you loved the long hair. The same week you came back, the two of you went to a party with some of his friends from the normie school he went to. This wasn’t the first time any of you had alcohol, but it definitely was the first time you got drunk. A silly game was suggested and in your already advanced tipsy state, you and Xavier had thought this would be fun. You remembered vaguely the rules being to spin a bottle and then kiss someone or drink to avoid it, or something. To be honest most of your memories of that night were kind of blurry ; but when the bottle had pointed in your direction and your eyes had met Xavier’s, you distinctly remember your heart missing a beat. Maybe you had thought about protesting or something, maybe your mind had been too cloudy to properly ponder whether or not you should do this. It didn’t matter, because the next thing you knew then, Xavier had leaned to you and had pressed his lips against yours. That’s how you got your first kiss, by kissing your best friend during a drinking game.

The next day the hangover had been so hard, Xavier didn’t remember half of the previous evening, not even your kiss. But you definitely did. Over the years you had forced yourself to push it down, thinking it was only a silly teenagers game and that you shouldn’t get too excited about this.

Thinking about this now, you thought that you had been in love with Xavier for far longer than you imagined. You should have seen it coming, and yet here you were, with flowers slowly growing in your lungs because of your feelings.

You were wandering in Jericho as the other Nevermore students were dispatched in different areas for Outreach day. Principal Weems had reminded you that everyone’s presence was requested for the inauguration ceremony at the end of the day – that yes, even you miss L/N are to attend this. Then she had let you free for the remainder of the day, and you were glad she did. You had a few things to buy at Jericho, this could be the occasion. But while you were making your purchases you were starting to realize that you were only postponing the moment when you’ll eventually have to talk with Xavier.

He had left the Nightshades’ crypt quite upset, it pained you even more to know that he was mad at you. You needed to fix this and fast. So you ended up pushing the Weathervane’s doors open, eyes searching for familiar hazel hair. Enid had texted you where Xavier had the displeasure of working that day and reading the coffee shop's name had made you wince. Hopefully, Tyler won't be working today.

“Hey L/N,” you heard from the counter and you cursed internally. Turning to the counter, you narrowed your eyes at the curly-haired boy.

“Galpin,” you greeted him half-heartedly as you came closer. Ever since what he and his friends had done to Xavier on last year’s Outreach day, you despised him.

“Do you, uh, want to order something?” he asked.

God, the way he acted all innocent and kind made you want to punch him in the face. On any other day you probably would have, but right now you were just drained.

“Sure,” you finally let out, “I’ll have a large cappuccino with two shots of espresso, please.”

“Coming right up,” he said before starting to make your order, and you find a seat next to the window.

For a moment, you put your face in your hands like it would give you some peace for a while. Everything had escalated so quickly, you didn’t even know if there was going to be an actual end to all of this.

The sound of a mug being dropped in front of you on the table made you look up, and the sight of Xavier surprised you.

“Tyler mentioned that you had ordered something,” he explained to your surprised expression.

Glancing to the boy awkwardly standing behind the counter, who tried to look like he was busy and not looking at the two of you, you gave him the slightest nod of the head as a thanks. Xavier sat on the opposite bench, arms plopped on the table nervously.

“Look I–”

“There’s something–” you both started at the same time. It made you chuckle nervously, “Go on,” you pressed him gently.

He passed a hand through his hair nervously, “I- I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick yesterday, okay?”. The guilt in his eyes was evident and you were relieved to hear that he had calmed down. “I shouldn’t have called you a liar.”

“No, that’s on me,” you muttered, playing with the still untouched mug. “I’m…not feeling well these days,” you finally admitted.

Xavier’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. To his knowledge, you never had any serious health issues. The flu once in a while maybe, but nothing that sounded that bad. He leaned closer to you over the table, a serious look on his face.

“What’s going on?” he asked in a hushed, yet gentle voice.

Suddenly, all the courage you had built up vanished. You had been so confident that you were going to tell Xavier everything, that this was the only way of making things right. You felt like you owed him that, after all, he had everything to do with your condition.

But as you were about to expose the truth to him…something stopped you.

The feeling of a warm hand on your trembling ones made you snap back to reality. Xavier’s face was fully painted in worry now.

“You okay?” he asked. “You zoned out for a second.”

You nodded slowly, gulping. No need to lie to yourself, you knew exactly what was stopping you from telling Xavier everything. The fear of losing him. Deep down you were afraid that if you told him about the Hanahaki disease, and what – who – caused it, he would end up leaving you. And you were far more afraid of losing Xavier than you were of coughing flowers. Because without Xavier, you feared that you'd end up alone again. And you never wanted to ever feel like that again.

Licking your lips, you wondered what you should say to him. So you lied again.

“I’m ill,” you blurted out. “I got sick around a week ago, that’s why I’ve been so distant lately.”

Technically, you weren’t really lying to him. It had been more than a week since the first symptoms, but the rest was true. You simply choose…not to disclose everything.

“Shit,” he swore under his breath, “are you feeling okay? What is it?”

“I’m fine,” you squeezed his hand in reassurance, “I had no idea of what it was until recently so…”

“Is this serious?” he inquired again.

Flashes of the pages mentioning the inevitable death of patients appeared in your mind.

“No,” you finally let out. “I’ll get better at some point I’m sure. Bought a few things to make a potion to ease the symptoms.”

Xavier glanced at your bag and nodded. Whether or not he believed you, he didn’t press the matter further.

“I should have been honest with you sooner, it’s just…it had been a couple of rough weeks,” you said with a weak smile.

He nodded in understanding, still you could see he was still worried about you. “Yeah, I get it…between that, Wednesday's arrival and the whole monster thing it had been a little bit crazy, right?”

You slightly frowned at him. It wasn’t it, he was misreading the situation completely! As you were about to say something, you suddenly became very aware of faint whispers around you. So did Xavier apparently because the two of you whipped your heads around at the same time. Glancing behind your shoulder you noticed a group of normies teenagers throwing glances at you, whispering and giggling among themselves. Some of their words reached your ears.

“...think…’re together?...”

“maybe…freaks…from Neverm…”

“...kinda cute…couple…”

You felt your face burn. Not in shame, but for the first time in the possibility of what it implied. Many people had mistaken Xavier and you as a couple before, but it was the first time you truly felt flustered by the idea of it.

Then Xavier pulled his hand off of yours and the sudden loss of contact made your heart drop. He sank into his seat further, putting more distance between the two of you. Eyes flickering to him in disbelief, you only met his sorry expression.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he muttered while casting his eyes away.

You wanted to protest, to say that it didn’t make you uncomfortable at all, but words were stuck in your throat. As were petals.

“I should probably go back to work,” said Xavier while getting up. “But I’ll finish in an hour, if you want to wait?”

“Sure,” you mumbled.

Tears started to burn behind your eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. The light ring of the doorbell made both of your heads turn to Wednesday who had just arrived. Her sole presence, usually not unwelcomed, was dreadful to you and you felt like you were becoming lightheaded. The burning inside your chest bloomed and the whole coffee shop felt suffocating. Raising from your seat abruptly you gathered your bag and vest without a word.

“Where are you doing?” asked Xavier lightly touching your shoulder.

“I’m- I’m not feeling well,” you excused yourself, which made Wednesday raise her eyebrow as she came to your side. “I need some air.” Feeling Xavier’s worried eyes on your back you squeezed the hand on your shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?” you whispered to him.

He seemed to hesitate, but between your pleading eyes and the intense bored expression on Wednesday’s face, he finally conceded.

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll see you later.”

You smiled weakly at him before rushing to the exit, head low. Walking rapidly through the streets you hurried until you found an empty alley which you immediately rushed into before throwing up in a garbage can. The flowers and blood mixed together regurgitated from your sore throat, as quickly as they had appeared within your chest. Tears flooded down your cheeks as the last petals left your mouth. Coughing fits were getting more and more unpredictable. You choked on your own breath, mouth tasting bitter and throat ablaze. If you didn’t do something real quick, you were going to die. But for now, you just felt so, so tired. Weems and the inaugural ceremony be damned, you were going back to Nevermore to sleep your problems away. Then, you’ll take it from here.

In the end, returning to the school to sleep and avoid facing your problems gave you more problems. A few hours later you were standing in Principal Weems’ office alongside Wednesday, getting a lecture about setting Crackstone’s statue on fire.

“For the hundredth time, I didn’t set fire to that statue!” you pleaded to the principal.

“And what evidence of your innocence do you have, miss L/N?” snapped Weems back. “Should you have attended the ceremony like you were supposed to, we wouldn’t have this conversation.”

“I attended this ridiculous ceremony,” noted Wednesday out loud, “yet you’re suspecting me too.”

She shot a deadly glare at your impassable roommate, “And I have every reason to miss Addams. The two of you had good motives to set this statue on fire, and miss L/N had mysteriously disappeared just before the ceremony.”

“I wasn’t feeling well that’s all,” you tried to defend yourself. “Do you really think I’d brand myself a witch in front of all of Jericho? Those people hate my guts, I don’t want to have anything to do with their shitty town!”

Weem’s hand hit her desk with force, “Mind your language, young lady!”

Wednesday only rolled her eyes at the whole ordeal. You on the other hand, were pretty sure she had something to do with it – but unlike you she had a solid alibi. And surprisingly, she stepped in your defense.

“Y/N is right about not feeling well these days,” she interjected, making both Weems’ head and yours snap to her. “She sometimes coughs in her sleep, this is very unpleasant.”

Principal Weems narrowed her eyes at you, “Is that true, miss L/N? Have you fallen ill?”

You nodded slowly, “Just small flu. Must’ve caught a cold during the Poe cup.”

The principal looked pointedly at the two of you, breathing hard through her nostril. Then she threw an accusatory finger at your pair.

“I want,” she articulated slowly, “the two of you out of my office. Now. And I don’t want to ever hear about you either.”

None of you needed to be asked twice. Once in the corridors and far enough from Weems’ office, you turned to Wednesday.

“Thank you for having my back with Weems,” you said quietly, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“No I didn’t,” she repeated. “I was right, you do cough at night and it is unpleasant.”

That made you frown slightly. None of your roommates shouldn’t have been able to hear you, you still casted the silencing spell every night.

“Since when?”

“About a week,” she said, while narrowing her eyes.

You started to think hard. It had been far more than a week since you had started to cast the spell. This was basic magic, a simple but efficient spell that you had been practising for years. There was no reason for you to fail it. The only logical explanation…was that your magic was weakening. The natural reaction for your mind would be to list every reason for it not to be possible, but then you thought about the sudden stop of your spell during the Poe cup, which had made your boat stop dead in its tracks; and so it added up. The disease had not only damaged your body, but it had also consequences on your powers. This was definitely concerning.

“You are indeed sick, aren’t you?” asked Wednesday. At the surprised look on your face, she quickly added, “Don’t think I care, I’m just readjusting your position on my suspects' list by considering all the parameters.”

You scoffed in disbelief “I’m on your suspect list? No shit, Wednesday?”

“It is perfectly plausible,” she said plainly. “With your powers and knowledge in potions, you have the ability to increase your strength I suspect, and you know the school’s grounds by heart,” you heard her listing, “you’ve spent more time alone than usual for the past weeks, with no one to testify of your presence elsewhere than on the crime scenes, and when I started to suspect Xavier you immediately fled to his defence without proof, like you knew for sure he couldn’t be the monster. So tell me Y/N,” she continued while looking at you dead in the eye, “why couldn’t you be the killer?”

Struck by her question you could only blink in disbelief. What. the. hell?

“Excuse me what?” you articulated after long seconds of silence.

“You should be honored,” she said flatly, “it requires some skills to be added to a potential suspect list.”

“I don’t want to be on a fucking suspect list,” you spat, “you’re delusional Wednesday.”

“My observations and suppositions are rarely wrong, I’m not the one burying herself in denial.”

Stepping closer to her you gritted your teeth together. “I can’t be the monster, I literally can’t.”

“What proof do you have of that?” she retorted.

Fuming, you tried to not play her game. But staying calm in front of her insolent lay back behavior was starting to be incredibly harder. “Drop it,” you spat.

“You’re just proving me right.”

That’s when you lost it, “I CAN’T BECAUSE I’M FUCKING DYING OKAY?” you roared at her.

For a moment, nothing but echoes of your words resonated within the corridor’s walls. Your ragged breaths contrasted with Wednesday’s neutral expression, unfazed by your scream. Only after a few seconds of a mortifying silence did you realize what you just did because you had lost your nerves. Shutting your eyes tightly you internally prayed that no one around heard you.

“I don’t think you’re lying,” simply said Wednesday.

You let out a scoff, “I’m not, trust me. I’m sick, and my health is deteriorating every day. If you don’t want to believe me that’s fine but leave me the fuck out of your stupid list.”

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you, “Until you’re blessed with black plague, I doubt you’ll die because of whatever sickness you have.”

“God, can you stop being that infuriating for once?” you snapped bitterly. “I’ve done every possible research on the subject and I know I’m doomed, okay?”

A silence took place between the two of you. You whipped away tears that had gathered at the corner of your eyes. It was the first time you had admitted it out loud ; it hurt more than you thought.

“I’m sorry to hear about your condition,” said Wednesday quietly ; and now matter how surprised you were by her words, you still thanked her quietly. “Does a cure exist?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you muttered. “It…healing doesn’t depend on me.” At her frown, you lightly shrugged. “Flowers are growing in my lungs because of unrequited romantic feelings,” you explained quietly. “Eventually, I’ll either die from internal bleeding or choking.”

This time, it was her turn to scoff, “You’re plagued with a deadly disease because you have feelings for someone? You just gave me the final proof that feelings are indeed useless, thank you.”

“I don’t fucking need your sarcasm,” you seethed, “if you want to be a stone-cold bitch that’s on you, but no need to mock me for having actual feelings. I didn’t choose this.”

She looked at you closely, like she was trying to figure out something. Which she apparently did rather quickly: “It’s Xavier, isn’t it? He’s the one you have…feelings for.”

You turned your face away, licking your lips. Wednesday was really the last person you wanted to have this conservation with.

“You’re getting weak and you’re losing your powers because you have feelings for a meaningless man,” she repeated. “I thought you were better than that.”

“Fuck off Wednesday,” you cried, finally reaching your breaking point. “I’m not asking to understand, I’m not even asking you to be compassionate but shit, for once in your life be respectful of someone’s privacy.”

With that, you turned away and rushed into the corridors. You didn’t want to hate Wednesday, she had done nothing to you ; even regarding Xavier’s feelings, you were confident that her arrival hadn’t triggered your condition. Maybe it had accelerated it, but sooner or later Xavier would have fallen in love with someone else, and you would have been doomed anyway. So yeah, you didn’t want to hate Wednesday Addams ; but she definitely didn’t make things easy.

A little less than an hour later, you found yourself walking through the school’s woods. The heated discussion with Wednesday had strangely given you enough courage to go and find Xavier, and finally explain everything to him. Weakened by your feelings? My ass! you thought. You were going to tell what was going on with you to Xavier, and to hell with the consequences on your friendship.

You soon reached his artist shed in the middle of the woods. Its reassuring aura made you a little more at ease than the very public space of the Weathervane. Knocking on the door, you waited for Xavier to answer you. When he opened the door, you let out a loud gasp at the wound on his neck.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” you asked while pushing him back inside immediately before coming in. You immediately went to take a look at his bleeding jaw, carefully tilting his chin to the side.

“Just an accident with a painting, nothing too bad,” he tried to reassure you.

“Nothing bad? Xavier, you have claw marks bleeding on your neck, this isn’t some small scratch!”

You could see that he was trying to brush it away, but you forced him to sit on a stool while you inspected the extent of his injuries. It didn’t look so bad, you could probably do something about it. Carefully dragging your fingers on the outlines of the claw marks you whispered a healing spell. The bleeding gradually stopped, and the cells of the skin started to slowly repair themselves. Though it started here, and the marks were still here looking like fresh scars. You gritted your teeth in frustration. With the full extent of your powers, you could have probably healed him completely.

“That should do,” you muttered with a small smile.

“Thanks,” he smiled back. “So,” he said after a few seconds of silence, “guess we need to talk, uh?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled awkwardly, “guess we do.”

You fidgeted with your sleeve, toying with words in your mind. It was always more difficult to launch a subject when the time had come.

“I’m not doing well,” you said, trying to resume the discussion where it had been left out back at the Weathervane, “and I’m not sure if I can really get better…on my own.”

Xavier leaned forward, fully focused on the matter. “How can I help you?”

You almost wanted to cry. He wanted so much to help you while having no idea of how bad the situation was.

“This is…kind of complicated to talk about,” you hesitated. But to your surprise, Xavier gently took your hand into one of his bigger ones.

“Hey,” he called softly, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

After a slight hesitation, you nodded slowly. Yet words didn’t seem to come out of your mouth. You started to open your mouth to finally confess, but something caught your eye. A large canvas hung on an easel, all in black and white tones. Like pulled by the invisible force of curiosity you slowly approached it, your hand slipping away from Xavier’s. As you approached and noticed who was painted you felt your heart sink into your chest. The painted figure of Wednesday playing her cello was taunting you, and it painfully reminded you of that night in Xavier’s room, when he had started to sketch it. It reminded you that you had no chance.

Xavier called out for you from behind. But when you turned back to him, he was met with the look of your teary eyes.

“You see, that’s why I can’t tell you,” you whispered sadly, “I can’t spoil this from you.”

“What are you talking about?” he frowned.

“This,” you said, gesturing at the portrait, “I can’t ruin your happiness with my burden, Xav.”

“Y/N please,” he said getting up, “please tell me what’s going on.”

You shook your head, defeated. “I can’t,” you whispered weakly. “Sorry I- I got to go.”

Before Xavier could react you slipped away and rushed outside of the shed. Tears were running down your cheeks but you couldn’t care less. It was clear that you could never interfere in Xavier’s feelings for Wednesday, so why bother saying anything to him at all? You heard him call you as soon as you had crossed the door but you didn’t dare to turn back and face him. He managed to grab your wrist when you were barely a few meters away from the shed.

“Please don’t shut me out,” he begged you. You still couldn’t face him on your own, so he gently tucked on your hand, turning you to him. “Please Y/N, tell me what’s going on with you, ‘cause I can guess on my own.”

Hesitantly, you looked up at him. Even though your eyes were blurry because of tears, you couldn’t help yourself but lose yourself in the admiration of his face. His brown eyes, so deep and full of compassion, his sharp features framed by soft hazel eyes…you wanted to print this image in your mind for however long you had still to live. Just like that night in his room, your eyes flickered to his lips. This time you didn’t hesitate, and you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his.

He flinched slightly, for the first second. But then he surprised himself thinking how soft your lips felt against his own.

You stayed like this for long seconds. Keeping your eyes closed and savouring the moment, you then realized that Xavier wasn’t moving at all. Biting back the bitter feeling within your guts, you slowly parted from him. Xavier simply stood up there frozen in place ; not understanding why you had kissed him so suddenly. At his lack of reaction and dumbfounded expression, you wanted to cry again so badly. Instead, you looked up at him.

“I wanted to do that at least once,” you whispered. No matter how you had tried to keep them at bay, tears were flooding down your cheeks now.

Still stuck down in place, Xavier didn’t know what to say. But the face of his best friend, teared apart by pain and sadness, was already too much to handle for him.

“I- I’m sorry Y/N,” he muttered, “I don’t…I like you, I truly do but…but not like this.”

Through your tears, you tried to smile ; it was a pathetic attempt. “Yeah…I know,” you whispered weakly.

It would have been easier if you had the ability to vanish away on the spot. It would have made you avoid moving away from Xavier and returning to the school painfully slowly, each of your steps burdened by the weight of your broken heart and the knowledge that Xavier hadn’t even tried to stop you. It would also have saved you from running into Wednesday once again, and hearing her asking Xavier out for the ball in the distance. It would have.

But you couldn’t vanish, instead, you were here shedding every tear you had along bloodied flowers, not even trying to stop either of them.

You just had your heart shattered into a million pieces and the confirmation that there was no hope for you. You were doomed, and the flowers growing inside of your lungs would soon reach your body’s breaking point.

[Part.5]

A/N: Thanks everyone for your incredible support, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist:

(no need to ask at every chapter, you're added once, and you're added for the whole fic :D)

@apocalypticnovaa ; @libdarkheart ; @ameliabs-world ; @certifeidlovergirl ; @aeisnoa ; @cat-loves-music ; @coolchick333 ; @eringaitskill ; @sweaterxav ; @sssleepless ;

@l4venderia ; @persipeoni ; @coldheartedmar ; @chaosfrisur ; @littlebabyk ; @pinksirensong ; @nushy ; @raribella ; @igotanidea ; @ali-r3n ;

@cafeaueva ; @queenofshinigamis ; @xxhospital-for-soulsxx ; @imtherealslimmoony ; @one-oblivious-nerd ; @amphitritesangels ; @valckenaux ; @aliciahlewis ; @lilsunshine1092 ; @ell0ra-br3kk3r ;

@hershey2813 ; @ahmya-4 ; @katkoosik ; @maggie-da-rat ; @hopelessnessforthehopeful ; @mk-the-great ; @neenieweenie ; @steviesbergthuis ; @rayliz793 ; @poison-ivy-737 ;

@katiemrty ; @vanillaarr ; @corpsebridenightamare ; @ghswlz ; @siriusblacksl0ver ; @poppyalice2001 ; @mypsychoticlove ; @jointherebellion215 ; @siriwhitewolf ; @miinnttyy ;

@teaganthemorningstar ; @oblivion-void ; @fandomstoryreader25 ; @darkdaydreamer ; @engenelxver ; @maddiechapman15 ; @hannahnikohl ; @pajerita19 ; @i-like-trains ; @tinafuentes ;

@slngarza ; @lqveharrington ; @honethatty12 ; @users09 ; @honestlyka ;

Usernames not found by Tumblr and notified by DM:

@flowersownme @eileen201804 @peacheskiwi @spiceyhotsherbet @ramiiroll @theweirdone2468 @tempressofthetarot @bambi-munson @apollo3475 @engenelxver @2000bitf @hes-club

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

#xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe angst #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday #wednesday addams #reader insert #hanahaki disease #no beta we die like men

784 notes · View notes

marleyybluu · 1 year

Text

Double Date

Pairings: Oscar x black!OC

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, use of drugs (marijuana), my smut writing skills

Word count: 4.5k

this is the longest thing I've ever written but I'm sorry I was not splitting it so if your attention span runs long enough to read this, enjoy 😂also I didn't re-read or re-edit the beginning cus I'm too high rn so sorry in advance

ALSO some of this was inspired by Entergalactic on Netflix. If you guys haven't seen it I highly recommend that you check it out, it's a fucking masterpiece, the soundtrack is bomb, storyline is cute and it's so visually pleasing omg. Kid Cudi really did his thing.

"So, look I know you're in your post-breakup mourning period... but.." Carmen took her hoodie off her head to give a full scowl to her sister, she could already feel the question about to come out of her mouth and she was in no mood. Fresh out of a long relationship, Carmen was a weeping mess that barely saw the light of day for almost a month. The man she thought she would marry and live her life with seemed to have had enough of her and made it clear in those exact words. Harsh. And that's what really hurt the most. Not the typical "I don't think we're working out." But a gut-wrenching "I've had enough." With no explanation.

When she told her sister, Vanessa, she suggested that they burned his things before he came to collect them but she couldn't find it in herself to be that girl— her sister said that didn't have anything to do with her and decided she'd perform the act herself but Carmen did find it funny to see his reaction when he saw the pile of charred clothing on the sidewalk. She was appreciative of her sister, her built-in best friend.

Vanessa looked at her with puppy eyes. "But what?" Carmen answered. "Okay so there's this guy that I've been talking to, his name is Jose, and he wants to meet but I'm kinda nervous so I asked if it could be a double date and he said yeah that's cool-"

"Nessaaaaa." She groaned. She was in no mood to even see a man let alone go on a double date with one. "Pleeeease! Please Mini." She pouted using the nickname she gave her since she was born. Carmen rolled her eyes tossing her head back as she looked at the ceiling to weigh her options, she'd been cooped up in her apartment for a while and she was starting to miss going out for a little drink here and there but she just didn't want to see the opposite sex for a bit. But it was for her sister and her sister would do the same if the roles were switched.

"When is this?"

"Tonight."

"For fuck sake Nessa."

"Sorry. But please?"

Carmen sighed. "Fine."

"Yes!" Vanessa cheered. "What does he look like?"

The older sister scrolled through her conversation finally coming across a picture of the two men, pointing to Jose and the other guy who'd be joining them. Carmen took the phone to get a closer look. He wore a completely shaved head, moustache and goatee which suited him well in her opinion— her eyes darted between the two men noticing the matching tattoos on their neck, and her date with a teardrop one under his eye.

"Vanessa..."

Her sister grimaced. "Yeah?"

"Are they in a fucking gang?"

"...maybe."

She mentally cussed her sister out, she should've known that this was what she was getting into since Vanessa always had a type, but she already agreed to this predictable catastrophe.

The time for the date came quickly and Carmen was thoroughly underwhelmed as she got ready, already planning out what could go wrong in terms of her lack of social skills— she felt like she was already lucky enough to get a boyfriend the first time around due to her awkwardness and now she was being launched back into the dating pool. Sort of.

The sisters arrived at Dwayne's Joint, it was a new spot in town that they had talked about trying out and Vanessa figured tonight would be a good night as any. They sat inside a booth waiting for the boys to arrive, the two sisters giving off very different energies. Vanessa was excited while Carmen sulked ready to get this over with so she could go home, light a blunt, and go to sleep. "You look pretty." Vanessa complimented. Carmen tried her best to make the most of it, she did dress up in a casual black halter top and paired it with a brown skirt, around her waist were her regular waist beads with one sitting above her belly button and the other below it so her belly piercing could be seen. She threw a white knitted cardigan over it but would most likely take it off soon because she was getting a bit hot already.

Her locs, that haven't been retwisted in the month, had been brushed and put up in a ponytail so they'd be out of her face and look somewhat neat. If she had to say so herself, and she did, she looked good.

"Thanks. You look pretty too girly." Carmen smiled. Her expression soon faded when the bell above the door rang signalling a customer had walked in, her heart fell to her stomach when it was the two men they were meeting with. "Here come your boys." She mumbled. "Hush." Vanessa scooted out of the booth and opened her arms to Jose, her sister stood almost stunned that the man almost ran to her scooping her up in his arms and off the floor.

She grumbled at them. Is this what she was going to endure all night?

She and his friend stood awkwardly not knowing if to introduce themselves to each other or wait for their counterparts to do it. The two broke the hug and Vanessa smiled. "José, Spooky, this is my sister Carmen. Carmen this is Jose and Spooky."

Carmen delivered a small wave only to receive a nod from Spooky, he looked like he wanted to be there as much as she did. The four sat down, Vanessa sitting beside her date and Carmen with hers. For the first few minutes it felt like a normal double date as far as those go, Jose did ask Carmen a few questions and made conversation with the two girls but soon all his attention went to Vaness which was fine because that's who he came for anyway.

She didn't know what to say to this "Spooky" guy, every time she looked over at him he was just staring at everything else not even making the gesture to look at her plus he didn't look like he wanted to be bothered anyway so she just went on her phone until their food arrived.

There was constant giggling across the table and consistent compliments and it made her miss her relationship even more-- she used to be like that too and she wished she still was. Her thumb hovered over his contact name, she knew she should've gotten rid of it by now but she didn't want to, she contemplated texting him even if it was to have a conversation for the moment but she didn't so instead she put her phone down on the table and placed her hands in her lap.

"So..." A shockingly deep voice said next to her, she was surprised he could speak at all. "So... you don't say much."

Spooky chuckled. "Neither do you. Guess we have something in common."

"That and friends who drag us to blind dates I guess."

"That too."

Saving the tension in the air was the waitress holding their tray of food, Carmen was grateful for the interruption plus she was mad hungry. The group ate and chatted a bit. She was enjoying her food until her eyes wandered off to the door, she gasped and slid down in her chair causing all eyes from the table to be on her. "What? What's wrong?" Her sister asked. "Damien." She whispered.

Vanessa turned around spotting the ex-boyfriend with a new girl on his arm, she looked over at her sister. "Who's Damien?" Jose asked. "Um, he's someone she used to date."

"What are you scared of him?" He joked. Carmen shook her head, she sat up straight frowning at the new girl. It'd only been a month out of a four-year relationship, how come he had someone already? Was she always there?

She couldn't see it but Spooky saw her expression and the way her mood changed especially when she saw that they were walking toward them to get to a table behind them. "Of all the places." He heard her mumble. He sighed and decided to do her a favour. "Come closer."

"What?"

"Come closer." Carmen listened and shuffled as close as she could, Spooky swung his arm over her shoulder catching her by surprise but she wasn't so stiff anymore she kind of relaxed under him. Damien and his date were getting closer, his smile turning into a frown once he saw her and Spooky.

They stopped in front of her table. "Carmen?" She looked up and fake smiled. "Damien, hey. What's up?"

His eyes shifted over to Spooky who was giving him a death stare. "Nothing, just hanging out, decided to try this new spot."

The air was thick once again, he nodded at the boys who didn't even blink at him, he cleared his throat mustering "See you around." Before going about his business. Carmen let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding, her eyes stung as tears that she didn't want threatened to break their barrier. "You okay?" Spooky asked, she nodded going back to her food only able to take one bite before she knew that her tears were about to embarrass her.

She snatched her sister's car keys off the table and said. "I'll be back." Spooky got out so that she could, he watched her walk out of the establishment the last thing he heard was her whimpers.

"Aww, what's her problem?"

Vanessa's ears found that snarky tone. "Maybe she didn't wanna smell your funky asses sitting right behind her."

Damien's date turned around. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me dog tits." She laughed. The girl gasped. "Are you gonna let her talk to me like that?"

Before Damian could answer he looked up at Spooky who was still giving him a look of disdain. He closed his mouth and asked her to sit down before anything got worse. Spooky took it upon himself to go check on her, he wandered off into the parking lot and not too far from the door did he see her with her head down with fog around her and smoke coming from the windows with the smell of weed in the air.

Inside, Carmen's eyes were red from both the Indica and her tears, she sniffled closing her eyes and rested her head back. She knew coming out tonight would be a mistake. Willing to Trust by Kid Cudi played while the weed took over she felt herself being carried off somewhere else, floating around in her head until a small tap on the window disrupted her peace, she looked over to the passenger's side and to her surprise it was Spooky.

She unlocked the door inviting him inside, she turned down the music taking another hit of her blunt. Carmen sighed putting her feet up on the dashboard. Spooky noticed her Scooby-Doo socks and laughed, she scrunched up her nose stifling her laugh too but she couldn't help it. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." He snorted. She looked over at him, her eyes falling on the details of the tattoo on his neck-- the crucifix that you'd more so see in Catholic churches but instead of Jesus and them on it the word Santos was etched into his skin, she scanned him until she landed on the other tattoo of the teardrop under his eye. "Something you wanna ask me?"

Spooky watched as she took another puff, checking her out just as much as she did him. She handed him her blunt and he gladly took it. "What's your real name?"

A dimple poked out when he smiled. "Oscar,"

"Hm, what caused Jose to drag you out of the house Oscar?"

He licked his lips and she didn't know if it was the weed but it made her tingle when he did that. "Eh, he's my hermano, just trynna be his wingman so he could get some pussy you know?"

He handed it back to her. "Gross." She giggled taking a hit. "Yeah? Like you're not helping your sister get some dick?"

"Fair enough."

The two sat in the car and talked for a surprisingly long time as if they were on their own separate date. It was a nice conversation and it helped take her mind off of her troubles for a bit, they hadn't even noticed how long they'd been gone until Jose and Vanessa came out hand in hand with containers sitting in a plastic bag.

Oscar saw them making their way to the car and if he was being honest it was a bit disappointing, he was enjoying Carmen's company she was a fun person to talk to, she was funny, she had some pretty crazy stories to tell and he liked getting to know her. She rolled down the window to greet her sister. "Thanks for dining and dashing."

"No problem." Carmen winked. "Alright let's get you home girl."

She looked over at Oscar and back at her sister and whispered. "Are you and Jose not... you know?"

"I want to but I mean I can just take you home."

She lightly shook her head, her sister getting the hint and smirking. "Um, Spooky do you mind taking my sister home? I mean if that's okay with you, Carmen?"

"Yeah, that's cool with me." She looked over at Oscar with hopeful eyes and he agreed to take her so they switched cars and were left in the parking lot watching the other pair get into the car and drive off. He walked her over to his Red Impala and she was sort of impressed by it, it was a beautiful vehicle and the interior was just as nice.

They wasted no time falling back into the conversation they were having before, leaving the venue and driving around with no destination in particular until Carmen suggested ice cream-- her munchies were kicking in and she was craving something sweet. They pulled up to an ice cream parlour that wasn't too far from her apartment complex, it was sort of empty except for maybe a group of drunks who were in the same predicament as they were.

"So, this Damien guy..." He started. Carmen saw that he was asking for permission to talk about and she nodded granting it. "How long was that?"

"Four years."

"Damn."

She laughed, that was almost everyone's reaction, assuming it was because that was getting rare nowadays. "I know. Hm, I thought everything was fine and perfect and one day it wasn't." She sighed drawing circles on the table with her nails. "You know, you plan your life together, everything is we and ours and us... then it's not and you're being told how they've had enough."

Oscar half smiled. "Well, that guy's fucking stupid for letting you go ma. Stop dating these square-ass bitches."

Carmen burst out at his attempt to console her, it was funny and it was cute and maybe he was right, maybe she needed someone who wasn't so uptight she did find that being with Damien sometimes required treading lightly on things and it could be annoying but she just accepted it, maybe now she needed someone who was more like... Oscar. So far she found him to be fun, and he sounded like he was down for anything as long as it was amusing.

A text came in on her phone lighting the screen, instead of reading the text she read the time and her eyes widened. It was almost 2 am. "Everything okay?" He asked. "Uh, yeah, just Nessa asking if I got home okay."

He slowly nodded looking at her lips, her septum piercing sitting just above her Cupid's bow another piercing planted on her right nostril, the light freckles scattered across her pretty brown skin, the subtle makeup on her face and her pretty natural lashes coated in mascara— he felt like he was staring at an angel. She started to blush and looked down at her lap.

"You ready to call it a night?"

She wasn't, but it was already late as hell. "Yeah, guess we should go."

They left the shop and once again entered the car, the ride was kind of silent aside from her giving him directions to her place but it wasn't a weird silence like how the night started, they were officially comfortable with each other. The ride was short considering she did live by the ice cream place. Oscar turned off the car and opened his door, Carmen sat a bit confused.

"What? You thought I was letting you go up there by yourself? Come on, ma."

She beamed, the little nickname growing on her, she trailed behind him like a lost puppy into the building and inside the elevator, she clicked for the fifth floor and leaned against the handrail. She looked at him noticing one of the buttons on his flannel shirt was unbuttoned, without processing it she reached over and fixed it for him. Oscar thought the minor detail was sweet, made his heart jump a little when she got close, close enough for him to really smell her perfume that didn't fade away for the whole night— sweet like mangoes.

The doors parted and she went ahead of him to find her place. Apartment 504. He made a mental note, you know... just in case.

She fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door swinging it open and turning to face him.

Invite him in. Invite. Him. In.

"I-I had fun tonight. Really."

"Me too." He agreed. The two stood looking at each other not sure what to say or do, not knowing if they would be on the same page if action took place.

Kiss him. Just fucking grab him and drag him inside and just fuck the sh-

"I... um... I'll see you around?" He nodded wishing her goodnight before he crept down the hall and disappeared back into the elevator. Carmen closed her door and banged her fist against it. "So fucking stupid."

----

It was a nice and breezy afternoon in Freeridge but Carmen couldn't take notice, the events from two nights ago, though small, were playing through her mind, their conversations and laughter going on like a broken record. Vanessa sat across from her younger sister still in a bit of disbelief at what she was told earlier.

"So... no kiss?"

"No." She murmured. "No, dick?"

Carmen glared. "Bitch if we didn't kiss what makes you think we fucked?" Vanessa put her hands up in defence. "People fuck without kissing."

"Yeah, weirdos."

There was a moment of silence before she asked another question. "Not even a hug!?"

"For fuck sake Ness, no!" She completely folded over resting her forehead on the park table, she was frustrated at herself for not bringing him inside that night even if they didn't end up getting intimate she would've enjoyed just talking or even smoking until the sun rose. Doubts played in her head that maybe she was only feeling this way because she just got out of a relationship and he was the first guy in her line of sight, but last night felt so nice and relaxing, they got along so easily once it was just to the two of them.

Vanessa smirked taking a sip of her drink. "Okay, I'll be serious, why didn't you invite him in?"

She shrugged sitting up straight, she played with the straw in her cup. "Are you scared of him?"

"No."

"Do you think he's ugly?" Vanessa teased. "I don't."

"Girl, I know you haven't been in the streets for a long time but it's okay to think with your punani sometimes. No disrespect you've come to me complaining about your sex life sometimes, so if this is an opportunity to get some good dick, you better jump on it. Pun intended." Carmen ran her hands over her face letting out the longest groan knowing her sister was kind of right, she hadn't had to think with her punani in so long because if she wanted dick it was right there. She sighed. "Can you ask Jose for his number?"

A devilish smile spread across Vanessa's face. "I sure can."

The sun set as quickly as it rose and Carmen was back in her apartment after spending the day with her sibling, she was successful in getting Spooky's number but had yet to text him, every time she opened the empty thread her thumbs would ghost over the keyboard and she'd chicken out turning off her phone. She decided to leave her phone alone and took a quick shower to cool her down but it wasn't helping.

After her shower, she doused herself in cocoa butter and sprayed a little perfume to feel extra good before putting on her oversized grey sweater with the Space Jam characters scattered over it.

"Alexa, play Angel by Kid Cudi." It had recently become her favourite song to smoke to.

"Playing... Angel by Kid Cudi."

Perfect.

She lit a spliff she had rolled earlier and made a mental note to hit her plug for some more loud since this was her last. A moment to herself in this big-ass apartment, she was getting used to being by herself and in some way found peace in it. Her phone buzzed and she looked down at a text from her sister.

LochNess🐍: Did you text him yet?

Carmen put her phone down telling herself she'd answer once she was done having her moment, until another interruption came, this time it was a knock on her door. She was confused, no one really came to see her unless it was her sister. She sighed outing the last bit of her spliff in the ashtray and trotted to the door, she looked through the people and gasped when she saw who was on the other side. She quickly unlocked her entrance revealing Spooky on the other side.

"Spooky... hi."

She didn't know it but Spooky was nervous, he came over after Jose told him he gave Carmen his number he didn't have much of a plan or a script of what he was going to say to her. On the other hand, she was thinking about what her sister had said earlier, it was okay to think with her pussy for once and she did. It took both of them by surprise when she pulled him down by his black shirt connecting their lips, like a scene straight out of a book she tugged him inside and he reached back closing the door behind him.

He glided his palms across her lower back and down her bum grabbing a handful of her bare supple skin, she was soft and smelled so sweet. Carmen giggled feeling her feet leave the floor, legs soon wrapped around his waist. He slid off his shoes and walked over to her couch. Surprisingly none of this affected their kiss, chasing each other in desperate neediness. He sat with her in his lap, hands resting on her hips. They pulled apart for less than a second before he began to nibble at her neck, she smiled lazily letting out a hazy laugh at his facial hair tickling her skin.

Oscar gave her one last kiss on the neck before leaning back on the couch, she caught his eyes running down her body. "What?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Heard you been thinking about me." Carmen groaned and buried her face in her hands, he chuckled at her sudden shyness. "I'm gonna kill that woman." She whined. Oscar moved her hands away and held them in his own. "Don't. I been thinking about you too." He said before cupping her chin, pulling her down this time.

Clothes were in a rush to be removed, tossing every piece on the floor until the cool breeze came in touch with their bare skin. Carmen hummed feeling his teeth graze against her sweet brown skin, his thick fingers padding down her torso and dipping between her legs. Oscar groaned at the feeling of her slickness coating his fingers, a light gasp followed by a whimper graced him as he pushed his fingers inside her cove. Her nails lightly dug at his biceps. If she was being honest, she just was willing to skip the foreplay, she wanted him and she wanted him now.

She whined wrapping her legs around his hips, he laughed breathlessly knowing what she was asking for so he stopped playing and gave it to her. He removed his fingers and lifted his head from the crook of her neck, his chain dangled in her face as he hovered over her his eyes gracing her every feature. A slick remark was about to come out of her mouth but was quickly shut down and replaced with a quiet moan feeling him fill her up completely.

Their chests pressed together as he returned to his position, his lips back on her neck adding to the feeling below. She whimpered feeling that first stroke, the second one so slow and delicate he wanted her to feel him against her walls, the third really hit-- it was a hard thrust, an erotic groan sounding from both of them. Carmen held him close, with every collision a new sound spilled from her plump lips, sounds she didn't even know she could make.

"Feels so fucking good, oh yes!"

He left sloppy kisses on her skin. "How are you so fucking wet? Hm?" His tone was cocky and she couldn't lie, the pleasure he was giving her had earned him that right. Her trembling legs never left from around his waist, using her body to beg him to go deeper. His hand collided with her hip squeezing her tattooed flesh in his grip. "Where's my answer mama?"

"You made me so wet." Carmen whimpered. "Shit! Right there!"

Oscar was pounding into her soft spot so hard her eyes disappeared to the back of her head, her legs came loose as she tried to push him off but he wasn't budging, he smirked ignoring her plea for him to ease up, she was close anyway he could feel it. Her pussy gripping him like she owned him and from now on it did. He was hooked, he was dizzy, he was ready for round after round— he never wanted to leave inside her.

He leaned down capturing her shivering lips in a slow kiss, tongues sliding past each other. He groaned when she would struggle to kiss back. "Spooky... fuck I'm cumming!"

Her nails clawed up his sides and dug into his skin once her hands reached his back. "Cum for me princesa." The words barely left his mouth when her back arched, her nails dragging down his back until her hands were right above his cheeks, she was pulsating around him. He slowed down his thrusts dragging out her orgasm for as long as he could and until she tapped out. They lay there out of breath and in a lustful aura. Carmen had finally started to breathe normally before Oscar picked her up and carried her off to an open room that he assumed was hers. She laughed when he tossed her onto the mattress.

"I'm not done with you yet, hm, I want you to always think about me."

I know I promised Rio but i finished this first so boooo

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs help and are deeply appreciated

be cool as always🤙🏾

#oscar diaz #black!OC #spooky #spooky x OC #spooky x black!OC #oscar diaz x black!OC #oscar diaz x OC #spooky fanfic #spooky fanfiction #on my block fanfic #on my block #on my block fanfiction #poc OC #smut #oscar diaz smut #marleywrites #marleysfanfictions #Spotify

603 notes · View notes

superblysubpar · 1 year

Text

*originally posted over on my old blog. If you happened to read/interact with this before, I'd greatly appreciate it if you left some love once again. I did re-edit/re-write some things.*

Midnight City:

part one | part two: "Frozen"

modern!steve harrington x fem! reader

Summary: Steve Harrington looks good tonight. You leave your meddling friends behind at the bar and Steve and you get a little lost in each other. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+

WC Range: 3k-6k

Warnings: modern Steve (smartphone use), drinking amongst group/reader (all of legal age), mentions of Ronance potential, fem reader, use of Y/N and petnames, a lot of swearing, making out in uber/public places, oral and fingering (reader receiving, steve performing), Steve’s a little possessive

Steve knew what he was doing, and you weren't going to fall for it.

The hat, the blazer, the new amount of scruff on his jawline...he looked good.

The entire wait in line to get into the bar your eyes roamed over him as he talked with Robin and Eddie.

You knew you were staring. You knew you shouldn’t be staring.

As you walked in you saw him fixing the collar of the jacket in the grungy mirror by the door. He caught your eye in the reflection, licking his lips before smirking and asking, “See something you like?”

Cocky son of a bitch.

You rolled your eyes and patted his shoulder as you walked by, “You look nice tonight, Steve.”

You exhaled and bit your lip. You risked a glance back and regretted it immediately as you made eye contact with his stupid smirk.

Steve was your friend. Just a friend. You could appreciate how good your friend looked tonight. It wasn’t illegal to find him attractive. It wasn’t against any rules to think about his lips a little more than you had in the past.

Your group found a table by the small stage and Eddie drummed on the table looking around, “We probably shouldn’t leave this spot, you guys wanna go get your drinks first?”

Robin craned her neck searching, no doubt if Nancy was here yet. You pushed her shoulder down and laughed, “Down girl. Don’t be so eager - remember, slow game. Just text her where we are,” you looked at the boys, “Go ahead, we’ll wait.”

Steve and Eddie nodded and instead of going around you, Steve squeezed between you and a stranger, pressing his hand to your lower back and mumbled a quiet, “Sorry.”

You willed your face to stay neutral as you mumbled something about it being okay as your body filled with heat. Robin’s mouth dropped as she looked at your face and you squinted at the crowd, biting your cheek.

She smacked your shoulder and you recoiled, “Ow. What the hell is your problem!”

She smacked your shoulder with the back of her hand a few times again, and laughed while shouting, “Holy shit you have the hots for Steve!”

“Robin!” you hissed at her and ducked down.

“Who has the hots for Steve?” Nancy’s voice ringing out over the din of the crowd behind your shoulder.

Robin grabbed her hand and pulled her to the table, “Y/N!”

Oh god, could the two of them be any louder?

Nancy’s eyes lit up in excitement and she opened her mouth but it snapped shut, her eyes twinkling as the boys came back to the table, Steve setting your normal drink of choice in front of you.

Robin cleared her throat, “No drinks for Nance or I, hot stuff?”

Steve shot her a look but responded cooly, “I only have two hands and so much cash Robin. Y/N knows how to pace herself. You on the other hand drink like you wanna swim in it.”

Robin made a face at him, pulling out her phone and began typing as Nancy tapped the table, “No worries, gives Robs and I a chance to talk some more. Come on,” she tugged Robin away from the table who put her phone away as your phone buzzed three times.

You pulled it out and resisted rolling your eyes as you read the messages.

Robin: holy

Robin: shit

Robin: steve likes you

You started typing and saw Nancy’s name appear in the group chat, three little dots blinking and you waited.

Nancy: he does he totally does

You: guys stop it

You: we’re just friends

Nancy: don’t look now but he’s staring at you

Robin: aww he loves you

You glanced up to see Steve quickly look down and you bit your lip around a smile.

Robin: I SAW THAT

You set your phone on the table, screen down and gestured to your drink, “Thanks Harrington.”

He smiled and adjusted his hat nervously before grabbing his own drink. “Of course,” he held it up and you clinked your glasses together before you both took pretty big gulps.

Your phone buzzed and you took another sip.

“Where’d Eddie-”

“You gonna get-”

You both stopped talking and then spoke in unison, “Sorry, you-”

You clamped your mouth shut and your phone buzzed again and you sighed.

He pointed to it, “Your phone keeps buzzing.”

You nodded and took another drink, “Sure does, where did Eddie go?”

He nodded towards the bar, “Set his sights on a new prospect.”

You grinned and craned your neck to find the dorky metalhead leaning over the bar, chatting up a pretty honey blonde haired waitress.

You jumped at Steve’s voice next to your ear and his hot breath hitting your neck as he whispered, “Ten bucks he gets a fake number again.”

You turned and were shocked that your face was so close to his, your cherry breath mixing with his whiskey, and you narrowed your eyes, focusing on your competitive banter rather than your stomach flipping, “You’re a terrible wingman for your best friend. But, I’ll take that bet. I have faith in Munson. She seems interested.”

Your phone buzzed five times and as you glanced at it Steve took a step back and you picked it up as the girls returned to the table.

Steve fiddled with his drink and nodded towards your phone, “Who ya texting so much?”

Robin had a smug smile on her face, “Yeah, Y/N, you have friends other than us?”

You made a face at her and blinked at the screen.

Robin: Fuck that was cute. You guys are cute together. Cheers your cups together again. I want a picture.

Nancy: If you get married I call maid of honor. Robin’s Steve's best woman. No arguing. It’s happening.

Oh my god, a match made in heaven those two.

You tried to focus on responding normally while reading their messages, “Uh..um..Dylan.”

“Dylan?” Steve asked and you looked up to see his frown while he sipped his drink. Glancing back down to see why your phone had buzzed five times before they were back to the table.

Robin: OH

Robin: MY

Robin: FUCKING

Robin: GOD

Robin: KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS

You closed your eyes and clicked your phone locked and grabbed your drink and downed it, “Uh, yeah, Dylan.”

Robin smirked, pulling out her phone, “Dylan is your boyfriend?”

Steve’s knuckles hit the table a few times, his mouth twisting into not quite a scowl, but he didn’t look happy.

Your phone buzzed as you responded, “He’s not my boyfriend. We just hung out a few times.”

Robin: Watch this.

Robin waited until you looked at her and she smirked, nudging Steve, “Riiight. Hung out a few times. She means they had sex.”

“Robin,” you hissed for the second time that night.

Steve finished his drink, “Yeah, Robin. I got it.”

He tapped his empty glass and walked away and you turned on Robin, “What is your problem!”

She jumped up and down giggling, “Oh my god, he looked like you kicked him in the stomach. He’s so into you.”

Nancy smirked and slid your empty glass towards you, “She’s not wrong. Her methods were a bit blunt, but now you know. Even you have to admit he looked pretty heartbroken.”

Steve was heartbroken over you talking to another guy? You didn’t want to admit to either of these two that the thought made you want to squeal a little, but the thought of Steve Harrington being a little jealous when it came to you made your stomach flip. Could one of your best friends be more than that? As you thought you saw the two of them smiling wider at you, as if they were reading your thoughts and Robin started clapping her hands together.

You pushed Robin’s shoulders down to get her to stop bouncing, “Okay, okay, okay. If he makes a move, I won’t say no. Okay? But I’m not gonna be the one to do it.”

Robin nodded and you pointed in her face, “No. Meddling. I want him to do it himself, Robin. I mean it.”

She zipped her lips and threw the key and Eddie timed it perfectly, pretending to catch it and unlock her lips as he slid in next to her raising his eyebrows, “Ooo secrets. Tell me.”

“Y/N and Steve love each other,” she responded immediately.

“Robin!” you looked at her in disbelief.

She shrugged, “What?”

You mimed her literally seconds ago locking of the lips and held your hands out, asking what she had to say for herself. She shrugged again, “I said I wouldn’t meddle or tell Steve. Gonna have to be more specific next time sweet cheeks.”

She turned you towards the bar and gave your butt two pats and Nancy made a sound from the back of her throat and you held your hands up, grinning as you backed away.

You sighed as you stepped further away from the table though, glancing across the room to see Steve’s tall frame over the crowd you pushed through. You watched Steve rub the back of his neck, tipping his glass back for a drop of whiskey. You meant what you said, you’d risk your friendship with Steve if he made the first move.

You sighed as he rubbed his new scruff and figured a little flirting wouldn’t hurt, a little nudge in the direction you hoped he wanted to go too. You already had a witty, fairly flirty banter on normal nights, it was up to him to push it further. But you could help get the wheels turning in his brain.

So, you bumped his hip when you finally reached him, “Hey, let me get your next one.”

He started to shake his head in protest and you stepped in front of him, placing yourself between the bar and him as you waved for the bartender.

Your phone buzzed twice.

Eddie: Woah. Easy there, killer. Gonna give him an accidental boner brush.

Robin: Delicious.

You smirked and clicked it locked. When you got your drinks and turned to him he was glancing at his phone, his eyebrows furrowed.

You smiled but internally started to panic that Robin had not kept her word, or worse Eddie was now involved and texting him. You hadn’t made him promise not to do anything. Those two could find a crack in any contract, slipping between the lines of questionable and reasonable decisions alone. Together, though, they were a terrifying tornado of well intended though slightly messy chaos.

You handed him the drink and you both were pushed over to a large post, leaning against it and you took a sip. Needing to find out what those two were up to, knowing you sounded incredibly nosy, you still asked, “Who ya texting?”

He glanced up, “Uh…I don’t know.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know?”

He looked confused at your tone and glanced back down at his phone. You pulled out your phone and started typing.

You: I’m going to kill you

Eddie: what

Robin: why

Nancy: I know a good lawyer.

Steve kept talking, “Yeah, a random number texted me asking if I still wanted to get drinks. Do you recognize who it is? Did Robin give my number to someone? I have, like, five contacts and four of them are here with me.”

Hey Steve! You still down for drinks tomorrow night?

You tried not to let the emotions coursing through you show on your face, “Oh. No idea, sorry.”

You pulled out your phone and quickly typed nevermind before smiling, gesturing to the table as the lights dimmed and the crowd around you cheered.

You pressed through the people and Steve’s hand on your back was making you sweat. He had girls texting him to get drinks?

As the band started playing you sipped your drink and stole glances at Steve’s jaw next to you. That green monster churning inside of you. Damn Robin for even saying anything about you and Steve. Damn Steve for the way he looked tonight. And damn whoever that number was.

How did this happen? How did you go from being friends, to thinking he looked good tonight, to being jealous, to having to stop yourself from reaching over and biting his neck.

He pulled out his phone and something came over you, making you push closer to him, bumping your wrist in front of his crotch.

Think about getting drinks with some other girl while you think about, as Eddie so eloquently put it, my “accidental” boner brush Harrington.

You felt him stiffen, his thumb pausing over his screen.

You took a sip and let your hand fall back down to your side and felt your own phone buzz.

Eddie: Nice

Robin: What happened to him making the first move?

You glanced over your shoulder to see the two of them smirking at you. Robin glanced down at something and smiled as you felt fingers brush your own.

Your breath caught in your chest and you closed your eyes as Steve’s fingers brushed and moved against yours. The backs of his knuckles barely brushing against your skin, tapping almost in time with the music.

You focused back on the stage, feeling warm as Steve moved a little closer, his arm against yours now, goosebumps erupted on your skin despite sweating your ass off.

Was this really happening?

You felt your phone buzz and you ignored it, leaning in to Steve a little more. The song being performed pounding in your ears in time with your heartbeat, the haze of a smoke filled bar making everything feel a little heavier, a little hotter. Your arms pressed together, electric static coursing between you and he nudged his shoulder against yours.

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting as lights surged on the stage, it was like a freaking scene from a movie.

It really was like a scene from one of your favorite romantic comedies, lights casting Steve in a golden light, eyes fixed on you like you were the only two in the room, music swelling around you as bodies pushed you closer together. His eyes bounced between yours as he started to lean in, his lips parted slightly, and a flash went off next to you, making you both turn and squint as Robin screamed, “Fucking hell! Shit!”

She quickly threw her phone down, her, Nancy and Eddie all grinning with their elbows on the table, blinking innocently and you rolled your eyes and Steve cleared his throat.

Steve and you turned back to the stage, the moment had passed and you were honestly a little heartbroken. And a little annoyed at Robin, who you were sure was the reason you felt your phone buzz again.

When it buzzed again you rolled your eyes and glanced down. Your heart thrummed in your chest in time with the music building as you ignored the message from Eddie and clicked on Steve’s name.

Steve: Wanna get out of here?

You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced over at him. You took a deep breath and typed your message while smirking.

You: You can do better than that Steve.

He glanced at his phone and his lips twitched up on the left side. His eyes kept glancing up to you as he typed and your phone buzzed again while he was still writing.

Eddie: You kids are so cute. Can I be both of your best man?

Robin: ARE YOU TWO TEXTING EACH OTHER WHEN YOU’RE FIVE INCHES A PART

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your drink and almost choked on it as you read the message that popped onto your phone as Steve slid his own into his back pocket with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

Steve: You’re right. I can. I ordered an Uber and it’s outside. We’re going back to my place and I’m going to show you how much better I can do.

Steve: all. night. long.

As you finally swallowed, heart threatening to crack out of your chest as you glanced up at him under your lashes, he grabbed the drink out of your hand, setting it on the table and pulled you through the crowd.

You were breathless from how fast he was going, pulling you out of the bar and into the waiting car. You giggled from how frantic he seemed.

He grabbed your cheeks, “I’m really sorry about this, your tip is already doubled and if you run every red light I swear I’ll quadruple it.”

You looked at him confused but as he pressed his lips to yours and you heard the uber driver sigh and turn their music up, you understood Steve was starting his text message vow, lips a blazing.

You moaned into his lips, your hands on his scruff, down his neck and under his blazer, scratching your fingers up his back slow and hard, soaking in the thing you had wanted to do since he pulled up to the bar that night.

His kissing was slow and sure, his hand pulling your jaw open for him as his tongue dipped into you. His other hand squeezed your thigh before roaming up to your hip, under your shirt and toying with the lace of your bralette.

His warm fingertips on your skin buzzed, his mouth opening against yours, his breathing slow and heavy, panting into you. His breath and yours mixing until it felt like you were the same person breathing, warm and heavy and stars dancing behind your closed eyes.

The car stopped and Steve pulled you out, backing you into the lobby door with his hands on your hips and his mouth on your neck, both of you stumbling inside.

He pressed the elevator button, wrapping his hands on your lower back and nipping your skin and you moaned, your head falling back against the door.

He pushed you inside as the door opened, bumping another button before attaching himself to your lips again. His fingers held your chin as he kissed you softer and sweeter. Kisses that left your stomach burning, your lips buzzing, your body sweating. He sighed as his thumbs rubbed over your cheeks and pulled you through the open door.

You didn’t stop kissing, bumping into the walls and stopping in the hallway against a wall or strangers door occasionally. Catching your breath in big gasps of air against each other as the other kept their lips moving, refusing to take a break. Frantic, needy, hungry for each other and not willing to waste any time.

Steve pushed you up against his door and pressed his hands over your head, leaning his weight into you and kissed you so deeply you felt yourself drenching your underwear, his lips sucked on your bottom lip as he opened the door.

Once his front door closed, you were ripping each other’s clothes off. His blazer on a lamp, his shirt in the sink. Your shirt you were pretty sure went behind a plant and you didn’t see where the jeans went. You were down to your bralette and underwear before you saw him press his phone and the same song that had been on in the uber came out of a speaker. He flung it somewhere before grabbing you and lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist.

He pushed you down into the couch and removed your underwear, his scruffy cheeks ticking your thighs before his mouth was on your soaking folds, licking a long and slow stripe through you.

You shuddered, “Steve.”

He licked you again, sucking on your lips before his tongue swirled on your clit, the bundle of nerves spasming under his attention. He moved to suck on the bead and you felt his spit pooling on it as he created a vacuum and two of his fingers dipped through your slick and into your entrance.

The same song started repeating and you gripped his hat and yanked it off as your legs adjusted over his shoulders, him on his elbows and laying across the couch under you.

You gasped as he pulled his lips away with a pop and pulled his fingers out and you choked out, “I-I like your haircut.”

He smirked up at you from between your legs, his lips rosy and glistening and his eyes blown out wide, pupils taking over the mossy color, his new scruff damp with you. He was handsome and perfect and he was only slightly cocky as he asked, “Yeah?”

You nodded and shivered as his fingers brushed through your wet folds, teasing as he watched how you threw your head back. He kept sliding them up and down, his large middle finger spreading you slowly as the music built and he sighed, his other hand wrapping under your knee, kissing up your thigh as he babbled.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

You whined as his fingers kept sliding, down to your entrance and teasing you and back up to your swollen clit, creating a friction that was building with the coil in your stomach as the music started over again. Kissing your thighs and the dips of your hips sweetly in contrast to the filth that was coming out of his mouth.

He pulled through you slowly, his fingers making a v, “Your sweet pussy just dripping for me, baby.”

Holy shit.

“Making all this mess just for me,” his tongue swirled around your sensitive nerves again.

“Making all those pretty sounds.”

He licked sweet and quick around your nerves and into your lips before moaning, “I’m making this pussy mine. Nobody else right? It’s all mine. It’s Steve’s.”

You gasped as his tongue licked through you deeper, pushing into you harder and his nose brushed against your clit and you almost yelped from how overwhelming it all was. His words, his mouth, his nose. Steve was burying himself in you as deep as he could, devouring you like you were his first and last meal at once. Every time his lips and tongue moved, his nose hit your clit and you were panting under him as you gripped the couch and screamed as the music and Steve crashed into you.

And then you felt it.

How his mouth and tongue were moving. How his nose kept nudging your clit at different angles.

You clenched around him and grabbed at his head, breathless, “Again. Do that again.”

He almost growled into you, repeating his spelling and you moaned as he finished the E and dug your heels into his back, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Steve-”

He nodded into you, “Mhm. Baby. That’s right. Steve’s pussy. Say it louder.”

He started sucking your clit again, three of his fingers inside of you and curling before pulling in and out quickly in sharp thrusts.

You were panting, sweating, his lips a vacuum seal on the bead of arousal as the coil in your stomach started to snap and your legs pushed against his neck and shook, “Steve, I-I’m-”

His mouth moaned against you, nodding into your folds and the beat in the music broke and you gushed over his fingers and mouth as you screamed, “Steve!”

He pulled his fingers out of you before he licked everything you gave him until you had to pull him away from the over stimulating kitten licks he was still giving you. He kissed up your thighs and stomach before resting over you and grinding his clothed bulge over your wet and tired self.

Your eyelids fluttering and your skin sweaty, you were sure you looked a wreck beneath him as he kissed up your shoulder and neck. He rolled his hips against you and you sighed, your arousal already building again as he kissed your mouth slowly. Yourself, his whiskey and your cherries dancing on your tongue and he whispered against your lips, “How was that for better?”

You laughed around his lips and reached down and started to undo his jeans.

He kissed you sweetly, grabbing your hands and pushing them up over your head, keeping a firm hold on your wrists and dipped down to your neck again. He sucked a bruise into your skin as you started to make a damp spot on the front of his jeans while rolling your hips against him.

He pulled his lips away and his breath was hot against your ear as his fingers started to trail down your body slowly sending a wave of shivers through your body as he asked, “Think I can do even better?”

Steve Harrington knew what he was doing.

And you were definitely falling for it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #modern steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington one shot

903 notes · View notes

darksvster · 2 months

Note

Hey, I saw your recent posts on twitter, and I just wanted to thank you so much for taking the time to share these scripts with the fandom. I am sorry you have to deal with losers saying awful things about you. Nobody deserves that. Obviously I would be very sad if you stopped posting even the Daemyra scenes, but I definitely wouldn’t blame you. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that the time and effort you put into this is appreciated 💜

i normally don't reply to these messages. not because i don't appreciate them — because i do — but because i don't feel the need to publicize praise for me.

but this has been an incredibly difficult and exhausting week for me personally (from a work front, a personal health front, a personal life front). thank you for this and thanks everyone for the kind words you guys send, it doesn't go unnoticed.

i don't think some people really consider that i am a real person who doesn't like to be insulted. this shouldn't be surprising because i don't think anyone looks forward to insults when they wake up in the morning. i don't like seeing my tweets screenshot and criticized by people who don't know me at all, i don't like people attacking me and my friends for having fun. i don't subscribe to the mentality of, "you decided to post these, so surely you knew you would get the attention." that kind of thought process is the same as, "she dressed that way, so she deserves it." i don't think i deserve harassment for simply liking things. i

personally, i would not attack someone for what they enjoy and i have simply been blocking people and moving on. but this sort of behavior is reaching a threshold for me. for my mental health, if i keep waking up to more people calling me names or saying i'm subhuman for liking what i like (yes, i have rpf ships, if that bothers you, keep it to yourself or move on) i will simply unschedule everything. i know i said before i would always post daemyra stuff, but quite frankly there are some daemyras who are as bad as the other antis.

if that happens, i will be fine with posting all the screenshots of the people who led me to make the decision. they clearly have no regard for respecting me...

i had planned on going to the library again just to pull some more stuff for people who have been asking so politely (especially since i realized that i didn't have anything re: rhaenys), but i'm deciding to just keep that time for myself since it is a big pain in the ass.

edit: i also don't care if there are anti-daemyras looking at my posts. that actually doesn't bother me and i see those comments all the time. personal attacks, however? those are not tolerated.

#HOTDS1Script #ask

41 notes · View notes

trutrustories · 6 months

Text

STUDY IN LOKI ROMANCE

Part 3: 1893

Since we're only a few days away from the last episode, I decided to COUNT DOWN everything we´ve got so far ( that can be interpreted very easily as romantic ) and discuss what the actual fuck is going on with second season. Because even though I shipped lokius practically from S1E2, I absolutely did NOT expect this kind of development. (Not that I´m complaining)

Warning: This is gonna be LONG post, lots of screenshots, lots of SPOILERS, lot of "oh-my-god-they-so-cute" language, and little bit of meta.

I originally thought that this post would be everything at once, but since I have just too many screenshots this time around, I´ll have to split it. so every post will be one episode. Color coding means:

IIIIIIIIII = anything, that coud potentialy be just acting choice.

IIIIIIIIII = everything else (tzn.: whatever was written, and/or carefully prepared by filmmakers. )

side note: I already wrote, about how amazing it is, that Mobius is unable to fight but fights anyway and how beautifuly, and ridiculously brave he is HERE. But this is about Loki/Mobius interactions, so I´ll try my best not to talk about THAT. (Even when I´m really happy, that s2 continues with this formula and Mobius is still his completely defenseless while aggressively brave self. I love him, btw.)

EPISODE 1 HERE EPISODE 2 HERE

Episode 3, here we go:

22) matching suits part 2 anyone, who work on those costumes: I want to kiss you all!

23) Another exhibition of touches:

the challange name is: "how close we can get, before we sink into each other"

24) "And they lived happily ever after..." They had some lokius fan in the editing room, I´m telling ya! This retro movie style transition... THAT is my roman empire...

like seriously? what is the purpose of this? I can´t wrap my head around it. someone just thought that it is really crucial to end this scene with two of them in a circle. OK.

but WHY?

It was LITTERALY used only once! (I´m sorry, but as someone, who works as an editor, this just driving me crazy 🤒🫠)

25) Loki and Mobius enjoying popcorn:

I have several things to say here:

ever heard about when one person is "forced" to have fun for the first time, and to try new things by the other person, and he´s protesting and is all about work and serious matters, but secretly loves it and is visibly relaxed and happy? - Because I´m sure this is some bloody romantic comedy trope, that everyone have seen about hundred times!

"Oh look, you have a piece of food on the chin, let me just…"

I know I already said this somewhere, but, this is the moment, where in my language suddenly (completely randomly) switched from formal way of speaking to each other to intimate way of speaking to each other. (I´m Czech, btw, and I have no idea, what happened in that recording studio but it had to be interesting)

26) Also... Bickering like married couple (part 3)

27) "You know sometimes I forget, that you are one of them... Blows my mind!"

Mobius being Loki´s fan.

Also yeas. Loki is one of them. God. And Mobius is a small, normal dude. JUST A HUMAN. Analyst, even! And they´re eating popcorn together.... also Loki will do whatever Mobius wishes

28) another "let´s be as close as we physically can" challange

Loki can´t keep only eye on him. he needs hands, because reasons

29) Mobius supporting Loki in using magic...

... or I should say Loki using Magic, whenever Mobius wishes, because...

"Will you handle this please?" "Gently!"

And on top of that... not him, explaining, what just happened, to the public, by: "The amazing Loki, everyone! He´ll be here all week! 🥳🥳🥳"

who the heck asked, Mobius? stop showing off with your magical boyfriend

30) Victor/Ravonna - the most transparent mirror ever:

THIS scene? Are you kidding? Ravonna running towards Victor: "Mr Timley! are you okay? And Mobius running practicly at the same time towards Loki with: You allright?" and both helping their man up on their feet?! IN SYNC! this is too much.

WTF

31) THE BIKE THIS. this is the most GREENLY green point, I can think of. Someone had to have this vision. This idea. And put it in to screenplay. Someone had to find the bike. Someone was shooting this. Camera is moving around them. And they were all like GREAT idea, let´s have them riding tandem bike while chasing Ravonna and Timely, that makes complete sense! (even when we have Loki chasing Brad USING MAGIC one episode back) anyway... ever heard about "let´s do this crazy stupid thing - absolutely not - and then they do the thing" trope?

32) Loki going with Mobius, not even thinking about it anymore.

And to think, that I was expecting something like S01E03 (Lamentis episode)! Once again, I wasn´t prepared for amount of Lokius content I was actually served. What a surprise! 🤯

#loki #loki spoilers #loki and mobius #lokius #mobius m mobius #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #loki s2 spoilers #loki season 2

119 notes · View notes

buckyysdoll · 3 months

Text

okay; part 1/2

MAIN MASTERLIST

જ⁀➴ written, re-edited & posted again for an old request from @hi-my-name-is-riley !! i’m sorry for all the confusion & i hope this is still alright for u !! i’ve never really felt fully happy with this, but :// !! sending love! Xx

summary: when you find out you didn’t pass a test that was crucial for your career, bucky’s there to comfort you through it — ps. we’re proud of u anyway, you’ve got this xox

A laugh track cut through the television set, though the dialogue was cheap and unfunny. It was a sitcom — and one mediocre at best — though you made no move to reach and change the channel.

At least it was some background noise to fill the stagnant silence. It was almost enough to have nearly even drowned out your thoughts —

Almost, but not quite.

An hour had passed just like this: you lying on your couch in a mental stasis. Your eyes burned from crying, and your neglected cup of tea cooled on the coffee table, brimming full and undrunk.

Words were making rounds in your head on repeat. The message was clear, and abhorrent: the one thing you wanted beyond anything else had been lost.

You were utterly lost.

By now, it had been sixty one minutes since you'd gotten the phone call that had tilted the axis of your life. We’re sorry to tell you, but unfortunately …

Five weeks of feeling victory, then this. All for what? You couldn’t believe it, but what choice did you have?

This was your life's work, and so the breaking of your heart was fully earned. Was justified and all you could feel. Weeks and months and years you'd devoted to this, and what now? What was there now?

When you'd first heard, you'd hated yourself for that failing, for what you saw as personal failure. Though now that was sixty one minutes ago and between then and here you'd been numbed, face swollen from crying the tears what would not stop coming in their quick, hot tracks.

And so: there was just that television, its white noise and open screen. That obnoxious fake laughter you hated. Your blank eyes that could still only watch, do nothing but, and your aggravated cheeks mottled red and sorrow-stained.

Not even the sound of your husband's footfalls on the hall outside could rouse you. You could've known the pitch of it anywhere and yet there was no comfort in hearing it now. His key turned in the door, a familiar domestic sound, and the latch clicked out of place. In your periphery, the door swung wide and a well-loved frame filled the space it had left.

Not even to him could you bear to look. You couldn't bring yourself to turn your head.

"Hey honey, I'm sorry l'm late. Traffic was a nightmare." Once, you would've marvelled at those words coming from his mouth — how mundane, how effortlessly close and familiar they were, such that it spoke of an easy, intimate rhythm that could only come from two people sharing a home, and a life together. What you used to think you'd never have.

Because indeed, if someone had told you five years ago that you'd live in this apartment, be with him? Surely then you would've laughed, would've wept, but in this moment nothing could've felt like a blessing.

The only response you made was a low, noncommittal sound saying okay. Confirming that you’d heard him.

And that was all Bucky Barnes needed to hear to know that something was irrecoverably wrong.

He knew all your tells even better than his own: what you said even when you were silent just by a singular look on your face. What all your hmms and little sounds and gestures meant. Each expression you wore, and when. And so he knew now in his bones that something wasn’t right.

It took seconds. His stomach clenched up.

The TV screen lit up your face in a low, sickly wash. In a pallor. You were pale, too pale. Motion caught and held in your eyes in great, glassy arcs of colour from the screen. A box of tissues sat surrounded by ones that you'd used and discarded. Your full cup of tea no longer steamed.

Proof enough of how long you'd been there. How long you’d needed him before he’d arrived. Bucky's heart seized and worry gripped him as you sniffed once aloud, confessing that — yes, you’d been crying.

Bucky moved to the couch as by instinct, his love for you driving each step through the panic.

And oh, there was so much panic, thick and greasy and abhorrent in his gut, as he came to your side in measured steps, keys and groceries and it’s Tuesday flowers forgotten on the counter.

There were hard days with you two just as much as the good, because of both you and him. Your pasts weren’t easy, and though that was for far different reasons, you worked for the future you wanted together.

And so he knew this silence, even if he didn’t yet know its cause. He knew that you’d need to be held. He'd promised to love you through everything and oh, how he did. He did, and he would. Always.

At the couch, Bucky lifted your blanketed legs so gently that it re-broke your heart, and sat down where they'd been with your feet in his lap. "Honey?" His hands settled on them, caution plain in each movement and his voice so soft that it hurt, that it brought a fresh lump to your throat.

More tears brimmed and fell.

But at last your eyes left the TV screen and found their familiar way to his own. The look in them ripped you wider, wide open. There was such tenderness, such worry. Such love. A fresh sob broke its cresting wave in your chest, and you were crying even harder than before.

Bucky shifted closer, and carded his fingers through your hair, once, twice; over and again, in long soothing strokes, with his eyes never leaving your face. “Do you want to tell me about it?” You said nothing, couldn't speak, and just managed to turn your head to his palm. Kiss it once.

It said enough: that you needed his nearness, the comfort of his warmth that had always steadied you for as long as you’d had the familiar privilege of knowing it. You knew if he could, he would have died just trying to make you feel okay, but for now he waited until you found the words that only you could find in yourself.

"You know that test I took?" Your voice was thick, slightly hoarse with disuse. “Turns out I didn't pass.” And there it was, out now, out in the open where comfort and Bucky could reach. Resignation weighed you down but your lips made a small, pitiful smile at yourself. It felt like confession and you had all its shame in admitting to your boyfriend what you’d feared had come true.

But still, as your words hung in the air, there was his strong hand in your hair; those worried eyes sea-blue and as deep, and looking only at you. You almost saw the words land.

"[Y/n]” That look — him feeling everything you felt: all your hopes dying, your grief. Bucky would’ve shouldered your pain alone if he could, but you both knew he couldn’t; so he offered himself, all you needed, his unwavering steadfast strength by your side.

It was you two against the whole world and if one of you suffered, you both did.

Bucky stood and moved up onto the couch, manoeuvring and settling behind you so you lay as close as you physically could in the limited space. Not wanting to meet his eyes and see the blatant love there, you kept your body turned to the room. If you looked at him now, you wouldn’t feel like you’d failed just yourself, but Bucky too.

And you couldn’t bear it.

A strong arm came around your waist and you were warm and flush against him, Bucky gentle, just so gentle, with each slow move that he made. You were safe, you were here, and he was grateful to the point of physical nausea, almost; when he first came in, he’d thought …

God, he’d feared the worst. His past was a ghost that so loved the man it haunted, and he’d just feared the worst.

Now then, he took in your scent, the familiar comfort of holding you and having the weight of you in his arms, and made a silent promise in a kiss to the crown of your head that you would get through this together. Your hurting was a horror that floored him, but this was something that you could — and would — get through. You were safe, you were here, you were safe safe safe. One breath in, out again. Safe.

"Can you talk about it with me? When did you find out?” With the words, Bucky’s hand made slow strokes idly up and down your waist, moving to your stomach and settling there to warm your chilled bare skin beneath your sweater.

“‘Got a call just over an hour ago." An hour of feeling like this. An hour where he should’ve been there been there been there —

Bucky shut out the thought. Humming low in acknowledgment, he rested his head on the curve of your shoulder from behind, dipping enough to press his lips to the crevice that still smelt of your perfume. “I'm so sorry, doll.” The sincerity was plain in his voice. The sorrow. The ache.

You huffed out a hopeless breath and closed your hand over his, twining your fingers through his own. Several moments passed before either of you spoke again. When he did, his words were crushing only because you wished so much they were true.

“But this isn't a reflection on you." And there it was, just like that: a trembling hope. A frail optimism with which you could hold it. The conviction in his voice was so quiet but so certain, so sure, that you almost believed him. Almost, but not quite.

"Yes, you're remarkable. You're absolutely incredible. And I’m more proud of you than anything in this whole world. You know that, right?” Light blooming in you then, just a little, just enough. Coming up through the dark cracks. “But you're still only human, doll. One slip up doesn't make you a failure.”

You wanted to believe him. You did. But there was just … there were so many buts. It wasn’t as easy as that, to just move on from every single hope that had died. A sigh blew from between your pursed lips; “Thank you, but I just ...” At least your tears had stopped.

Bucky's presence, it seemed, just soothed you in a way that was almost instinctive.

You toyed with his fingers that still curled around your own upon your stomach, giving a small squeeze that Bucky knew meant I appreciate you. And hearing your silent words just like always, he replied in a whisper against your skin: “I know.” Your boyfriend pressed another small kiss to your shoulder.

And it was everything, that little gesture. The understanding you weren’t quite sure you deserved. He was truly your world, and what was more? He helped you see his whole world in yourself. Knowing him had made you question everything you'd once thought, and then in growing to love him? You’d learned to see yourself the way that he did: as beautiful, incredible. As capable, too.

Capable intrinsically, without condition. With just as much worth as you came into the world with. With a worth that was yours, and that no one and nothing could ever take from you. Not even yourself.

You turned in the circle of his arm. Affection rushed you as your eyes met again for the first time in far too long, and there he was — your Buck, your Bucky. Never your “James”, but always your love. Your sweetheart. The best friend that you’d ever had and who’d devoted his life to precisely this: to loving you, and lending the strength to you when your own faltered and you needed his.

Bracing a curled hand on his t-shirted chest just to feel him, you let yourself give into it: his reassurance, his steadfast faith in you wholly irrespective of what you’d ever done or not done; in the warmth of his body, his familiar smell of cologne and something musky and just so Bucky; into the eyes you adored and that watched you as you watched him, as you took all of him in.

His own hand came up to your face, a tender touch; one you coveted and exhaled against. It was a cradle like you were something cherished, and you were. It was a warm weight on your skin that was grounding and reminded you of just where, what, who you were.

Again, Bucky's fingers threading into your soft hair; where they stayed, braced with his thumb at your cheek to brush slow, smoothing strokes on your skin. And it worked: calmed your breath and gradually lightened your sore sorry heart, back and forth as though to ease, which it did.

“I'm so proud of you, doll.” Bucky’s smile alone could've outglowed the sun, and it was quiet in holding that pride; enough for you both when you fell short of loving yourself with the same ferocity with which he loved you. And you saw it in the glassy shine to his own eyes, rendered deeper in their blue with adoration; searching your face, so familiar and loved, as though to memorise it, as though he hadn’t already a hundred times and more.

It was never enough.

“There is nothing, nothing,” he reiterated with his thumb dipping lower to your lip, where he lightly brushed it before going on: “that you could ever do to change that. And you deserve to be so proud of yourself, even if you can’t see that right now.”

As he spoke, his touch the only thing that ever could ground you, you held tight to his wrist, ran your fingers lightly up his clothed arm to his muscle-packed shoulder. Absent, steadying touches. Anything to remind yourself that he was here, and loving you. That no matter what happened you had him, you’d always have Bucky. Just as he had you, too.

And now you couldn't help but take his words in faith. "Just look at how far you've come to even get here in the first place. Did you ever think you could, before you did?"

You shook your head no, but stayed quiet. His words were coming through, hope and strength were coming through, and so you let them. Let yourself truly hear him.

"Honey, this is just one step in a whole lifetime's worth of achievements. You tried your best, and you can't ask anymore from yourself than that. It didn't quite work out this time, but your future — the chance to try again — will still be there when you're ready to take it. It's not going anywhere, doll.”

And he was right. He was right like he usually was, so rational when he knew that you just needed space first to feel it, before you dealt with it. In times like these when he offered his perspective, you realised just how much you'd lost yours — how much you needed the space he gave you to grieve for the loss, for the failure; how it deserved to breathe on its own, and just how crucial it was that you felt it. Crying and breaking in his arms was essential to the healing, to the growth. To acceptance.

It came out as a whisper.

"Thank you." And you really meant it. Really felt his faith in you raise something up in your own chest: self-forgiveness, or at least the hope of it. But for right now it was enough.

Even when what you saw as "failures" put just more obstacles in the way of life’s path. What more was this then, than just another hurdle to find your way over? Fighting tooth and nail as you always did. Though you may stumble blind you still moved, still forged onwards with the most loving man by your side.

Life would, after all, still be uncertain even if you had passed. There were no guarantees. You'd overcome everything else till this point, so why not let yourself move through this pain too?

“Thank you." It came out again, you couldn't stop it; your voice was stronger now, and more certain. You thought of how he held you, not just in his arms but how you trusted him to love you so gently; not just skin to skin, but the tenderness, too, that he reserved for you alone. Who would’ve thought — the famed ex-Winter Soldier, once the most widely feared, the most deadly assassin? Laying here holding you now with those hands that you trusted beyond your own life.

Who knew how long you stayed like that: measured breaths, the slow rising and falling. Bucky now on his back with your head on his chest, legs tangled in each other’s so warm and close — so much like just one being — that it was almost unknown exactly where two distinct bodies could be discerned. But it was there that you allowed yourself to let go of your pride, and be a person who could fall and get back up and call it life.

Perhaps you wouldn't ever feel good about the test: perhaps you'd always wish that it had gone different. But for now, in the soft, steady hold of your husband, with the smell of him, the feel of him, around you — you breathed deeply for the first time in hours and knew you’d be okay. Maybe not now, maybe not for a little while yet.

But you’d be okay.

40 notes · View notes