#anyway that was a bit dramatic but i have a lot of feelings about them and this particular brand of love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theostrophywife · 9 months

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baby, won't you be my girl?

pairing: theodore nott x reader. song inspiration: only girl by stephen sanchez. author’s note: theodore nott, the man that you are. please enjoy my favorite flirty yummy slytherin boy 🐍 part two: stop the world i wanna get off with you.

Theodore Nott was not the jealous type.

Jealousy required emotions, which Theo found so terribly unrefined. He was a Slytherin, for Salazar’s sake. Not some hotheaded Gryffindor incapable of keeping his anger in check. But as he glared daggers at the back of some pathetic little beater who was currently flirting with you across the common room, Theo couldn’t help but feel downright murderous.

The worst part was that he could’ve prevented all of this. If he had just manned the fuck up, Theo would’ve been the one pressed close against you, whispering his signature suggestive comments in your ear and making you smile.

But Theo—absolute tosser that he was—didn’t realize his blunder until it was too late.

Earlier that week, the two of you had been studying in his room. Well, you were studying. Theo, on the other hand, was smoking enough pot to sedate a hippogriff. He inhaled deeply, watching with a slight smirk on his face as you frowned into your Charms textbook. You were laying on your stomach at the edge of his bed with notes strewn all around you. The combination of your slightly unbuttoned white blouse, dangerously short black pleated skirt, and green and silver high knee socks affected him more than the drugs he was currently inhaling.

There was something incredibly sexy about a beautiful woman laying in his bed and completely ignoring him in favor of a dusty old tome. Or maybe it was just you. To be fair, Theo found everything about you quite sexy. Even your infamous lectures regarding his drug habits, which you were due to give him in three…two…one….

You huffed indignantly, the action ruffling the feathers on your quill. “I will never understand why you voluntarily choose to put that rubbish into your body.”

Theo shrugged, blowing a puff of smoke towards the ceiling. “It’s relaxing.”

“What could you possibly be stressed about, Teddy?”

He smiled at the nickname. If anyone else called him that, Theo would’ve hexed the life out of them, but he liked the way it sounded when you said it. Especially when you were a little bit annoyed at him.

“I’ve got a lot on my shoulders, love.” He took another drag and sighed dramatically. “Being rich and handsome is incredibly tiring work.”

You snorted. “You’re an absolute twat, you know that?”

Theo held the blunt between his slender fingers and plopped down next to you. “A rich and handsome twat.”

“A rich, handsome, and dead twat if you don’t get that blunt away from my textbook.” Theo smiled sheepishly before putting out the cigarette on the ashtray by his bedside table. You rolled your eyes and tapped the end of your quill against his chest. “You should really quit. That shit’s terrible for your lungs.”

Theo turned, cocking his head at you. His watercolor eyes bored into yours as a smirk curved against his lips. “What will you give me if I do?”

“Theodore Aurelius Nott,” you chided. Despite the blush creeping into your cheeks, you managed to keep your voice steady as you glared at the perfectly coiffed prick. “Do not make me stab you with my quill.”

He grinned. There was nothing Theo enjoyed more than making his best friend flustered. “I’ll take a light stabbing if it means that you’ll start paying attention to me again.” You laughed at his childish pout. “What are you studying so hard for anyways?”

“We have a Charms exam on Friday and you know how brutal Flitwick is.”

“Scheduling an exam on the same day as a quidditch game should be a crime punishable by wizarding law.” Theo complained with a groan. “A game against Gryffindor, no less.”

“Not everything revolves around quidditch, Theo.”

“Try telling that to Malfoy,” he said with a sigh. “The bloody git’s been running the whole team ragged. For the past three weeks, Draco’s been forcing all of us to wake up before sunrise. I’m losing my precious beauty sleep, Y/N.”

You pouted, pinching his cheeks. “Poor Teddy bear. How will you ever recover?”

"Smartass," Theo said with a smirk.

"Top of the class, baby." You rolled over and winked at him. "I really am that witch."

"I think I'm rubbing off on you, love."

"In your dreams, Nott."

He chuckled. "Oh, I'm definitely rubbing off on you." Theo snatched the quill out of your hands. "Enough studying. I'd rather talk about how I'm going to crush those Gryffindor brutes, which I can only do with you cheering me on from the stands."

You took the quill back, tapping its feathery edge against Theo's nose. “You know that watching all that flying makes me nauseous. Plus, I can’t even enjoy myself because I’m too worried about you taking a bludger to the head.”

“I promise not to let anything ruin my pretty face. I know how much you enjoy the view, after all,” Theo said with a wink. “If you promise to come.”

“I don’t know, Teddy…”

He pouted, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “Please, Y/N. I need my good luck charm. Plus, you look cute in my jersey.”

“My eyes are closed half of the time from sheer terror,” you pointed out. Theo watched as you fiddled with the end of your quill. “Besides, wouldn’t it be weird to wear your jersey and cheer you on?”

Theo’s brows furrowed. “Why would it be weird?”

“Because,” you said matter-of-factly. “Those are things a girlfriend would normally do.”

“Well, yes, traditionally. But you’re my best friend,” Theo explained. “It’s not like that between us.”

The minute the words came out of his mouth, Theo knew it was the wrong thing to say. You stiffened beside him, your body language turning as tense as a bowstring.

“Right,” you said in a tight tone. “It’s definitely not like that between us.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just—I mean you’re not like the other guy’s girlfriends. We’ve known each other for ages. We just don’t see each other that way.”

Theodore Nott, idiot extraordinaire. If looks could kill, he’d be at the bottom of the Black Lake waiting to become a delicious feast for the merpeople.

“Of course not,” you said with humorless laughter. “We’re just friends. It would be mental for anyone to think that we’d ever be in a relationship, right?”

There was a challenge behind those words. Despite the fact that his dorm was deep within the dungeons, Theo could hear a slight ringing in his ears, like the howl of the wind as he raced past on his Nimbus, heart beating against his chest as he prepared to hurl the quaffle with all his might. Only now his target wasn’t a goal hoop.

It was you. His best friend. The girl he had been head over heels in love with since the moment you pushed Adrian Pucey into a bush at Malfoy Manor for making fun of five year old Theo’s lisp.

He should say something, anything, but for once in his life, Theodore Nott had no witty comeback in his arsenal. Stupid, pathetic coward that he was, all he could manage was a nod.

“Right,” he licked his lips nervously. “Just friends.”

The disappointment in your eyes felt like a punch to the gut. Worse than when he’d broken his arm in third year. Worse than when Mattheo dragged him into a brawl with those brawny Durmstrang guys in fourth year. He would have gladly taken another meaty Bulgarian fist to the face rather than face you right now.

Theo watched helplessly as you rolled off the bed and stuffed your studying materials into your leather satchel. “Wait, Y/N. Are you leaving? I thought you wanted to study?”

You slipped your shoes on, averting his gaze. “I do, which is why I’m gonna head to the library. I’m more focused there, anyways.”

Theo was still utterly confused as he scrambled after you. “Let me at least walk you to—”

“That’s really not necessary,” you said, cutting him off. “I’ll see you later, Theo.”

Theo, did not, in fact, see you later.

If avoiding him was a sport, you would’ve won the bloody Triwizard cup. The fact that you memorized his schedule for him since he couldn’t be trusted to actually remember to show up to class probably helped. Theo didn’t realize how accustomed he had grown to having you around until you weren’t there.

When Enzo obliviously rebuffed a Hufflepuff’s attempt to flirt with him at breakfast, Theo turned to your usual spot beside him to nudge you only to find the space empty. When Potter & Co. prattled on about whatever martyr cause they’d picked up that week, Theo found himself searching for you across the Potions classroom to share an eyeroll, but caught a glimpse of your retrieving back instead. The last straw had been when Elizabeth Burke’s portrait refused to let him into his own dorms because Theo couldn’t remember the passcode. He never had to since you always came in together.

In other words, Theo was absolutely fucking miserable. Even the team’s win against Gryffindor failed to lift his spirits. He knew that it had only been a week, but he missed you so fucking much that it actually hurt.

The sight of you walking into the common room filled him with instant relief. For about half a second. Until he saw that you weren’t alone.

Then, Theo had reverted back to his sulky self, choosing a shady spot amidst the raging party to drown his sorrows with a bottle of firewhisky. He had gone through at least half of the Ogden’s while chain smoking like a Hungarian Horntail.

“Oi, what’s got your wand in a twist?” Mattheo asked while snatching the cigarette out of Theo’s mouth. He took a deep inhale and blew a puff of smoke directly into Theo’s face. “Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating our victory? Why’d you look like someone pissed in your soup?”

“Fuck off, Riddle,” Theo muttered in response as he took back his cigarette. The smoke made the room hazy, but not enough to block you from view.

The beater—the fucking twat—leaned in to whisper into your ear. Whatever he said made you burst into laughter, which once again filled Theo with pure, unadulterated rage.

“Someone’s in a mood,” Enzo remarked, plopping down on the sofa beside Theo. A circle of third years hovered at the edge of their group, but as usual, Berkshire remained utterly oblivious to their presence. Bloody hell, he was even worse than Theo.

“I bet ten galleons that Nott bashes Murdock’s head in before the end of the night,” Draco said.

“Murdock, is it?” Theo grunted. “What do we know about the prick?”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Absolutely nothing. He’s not even worth gossiping about,” he announced dismissively while sipping his drink. Imported French wine, probably. Zabini would never partake in something as common as beer.

Mattheo’s lips curled in amusement. “Besides the fact that he’s making a move on Theo’s girl.”

“She’s not my girl,” Theo said defensively.

“Really?” Malfoy drawled, raising a pale blonde brow. “So you wouldn’t mind if I asked Y/N to dance?”

“Don’t even fucking think about it, Malfoy.”

The Slytherin boys laughed. For them, the week had been amusing as all hell. They had never seen Theo this wound up before. A few days without Y/N and their usual sassy, sarcastic mate had turned into a complete basket case.

Pansy sighed. “For Salazar’s sake, Theo. Either man the fuck up or stand down. Y/N deserves to have a good night, too. Who she has it with is entirely up to you.”

Pansy Parkinson was a pain in the arse, but she was also right.

With that, Theo put his cigarette out on the ashtray and stood from his place on the sofa. It only took three strides for Theo to get to you. Four for you to startle as he casually put his arm around your shoulders.

“There you are,” he whispered into your ear. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You froze in place as Theo pulled you close. The scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke enveloped you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

Under normal circumstances, you would’ve flown straight into the fire that was Theodore Nott, but tonight you were in no mood to get burned. You’ve already endured enough pain and humiliation from your last conversation.

Just friends kept replaying over and over in your head like a broken record. You felt like an absolute pillock. For years, it felt like the two of you had been teetering towards…something. All that shameless flirting, the lingering touches, the late night conversations. You had been stupid enough to believe in the possibility that Theo felt for you what you felt for him.

But maybe it was all in your imagination.

“Theo,” you said, slinking out of his reach. Hurt flashed in his eyes as you faced him. “Congrats on the win. Christoph said it was a good game.”

“It would’ve been better if you were in the stands,” Theo said softly.

“I was busy.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he eyed Christoph with disdain. “Listen, can we go somewhere and talk? I haven’t seen you all week.”

You crossed your arms. “We just got here.”

Theo was not well pleased by your use of ‘we’ as if you and Murdock were suddenly now a thing. He barely spared the sodding prick a glance. You couldn’t actually be attracted to this prat, could you? He was all wrong for you. Murdock had a stocky beater build and short blonde cropped hair. You hated beefy guys and you were definitely not a fan of blondes. Case in point: Draco.

No, you liked tall sarcastic brunettes with messy hair and a slight nicotine addiction.

You liked him.

So Theo stayed put, meeting your gaze with equal intensity. There was no way in hell he was backing down.

For good measure, he pouted slightly and fixed his eyes on you. “Please, Y/N.”

He saw the exact moment when your resolve broke. Your expression softened and your shoulders relaxed, slumping in defeat. You sighed before turning over to Murdock. “Do you mind giving us a moment?”

Christoph nodded. “I’ll fetch us some more drinks.”

Theo watched him walk away, or rather, he glared at his back until Murdock was out of sight.

“Really, Y/N?” Theo asked incredulously. “You're slumming it with that benchwarmer?”

You wheeled towards him, eyes blazing with fire. Oh, he was truly in for it now. “First of all, I’m not ‘slumming it’ with anyone and even if I were, it’s none of your bloody business. Second of all, Christoph is actually a really nice guy.”

Theo scoffed. “Yeah, because you’re suddenly into really nice guys now.”

“Well maybe I got tired of hanging around pricks.”

Ouch. That one definitely hurt. Even if it was well deserved.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all week?” Theo asked, stepping closer. “You’ve been busy with Murdock?”

Merlin’s beard, Theo was ridiculously tall. He towered a good foot over you, cornering you against the wall. His eyes were stormy and dark like a predator watching its prey.

“Careful, Theo,” you warned, meeting his gaze. “You almost sound jealous.”

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Neither one of you were backing down from this little standoff. Theo braced himself against the wall, his face inches away from yours.

“What if I am?” He challenged, his eyes dipping to your mouth. “What if I told you that it’s taking every ounce of self control I have not to rip Murdock to shreds?”

A shiver skittered down your spine. Theo wasn’t a violent person. Sure, he’d been in a fight or two, but that was mostly Mattheo’s doing. Your best friend wasn’t the aggressive type, so to hear him threaten Christoph took you by surprise.

“You have no reason to be jealous, Theo.” You countered. “After all, we’re just friends.”

“No, we’re not,” he said. “We’ve never been just friends, Y/N.”

“Then why did you—”

“Because I’m an idiot and a coward,” Theo said with a sigh. “Because I had a beautiful girl in my bed and I had no idea how to tell her that I’ve been in love with her since I was five.”

All the anger and hurt you’ve been carrying around for the past week instantly dissolved. A little smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “You’re in love with me?”

“I thought that much was obvious, love.”

“Hmm,” you hummed in response. “Theodore Nott, infamous playboy and shameless flirt, is in love with me. What an interesting development.”

Theo groaned. “Now is not the time to be a smartass, Y/N.”

“I think it’s the perfect time—”

You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence. Suddenly, Theo’s lips were on yours. He tasted like peppermint and whiskey, and he kissed you like his life depended on it. You sighed into his mouth, melting against his touch as he cupped the side of your cheek. This was definitely not a just friends kiss. It was a butterfly inducing, head in the clouds, sweep you off your feet kind of kiss.

Theo's hands snaked around your waist as your fingers found purchase in his shaggy brown hair. He pulled you flush against him like he couldn't get enough. Merlin's pants, Theo really knew how to kiss. His lips were soft against yours, but there was a roughness in his actions that told you that his restraint was hanging on by a thread.

Like he'd been waiting for this for far too long.

You knew the feeling all too well.

"Darling, if you keep kissing me like that then this party will receive a show they didn't ask for."

You stuck your tongue out at him. "You started it."

"Shall I end it too, love?"

"You're an absolute twat, Theodore Nott." You rolled your eyes, kissing the tip of his nose affectionately. “A rich, handsome twat that I'm in love with."

Somewhere across the room, the hoots and hollers of your friends ignited a deafening cheer. Mattheo and Enzo clapped Theo on the back. Blaise raised his glass in approval. Draco smirked and exchanged galleons with Pansy. You didn’t even want to know what that was about.

“Fucking finally,” Mattheo remarked. “Notty boy here has been impossible to deal with this entire week. I never noticed how much of a wanker he can be when you aren’t there to balance him out, Y/N.”

You chuckled. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

Enzo grimaced. “You weren’t on the receiving end of his quaffles,” he said, eyeing Theo. “He nearly took my head off.”

That only made you laugh more. “Teddy bear wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“No, it’s true. Nott went absolutely mental.” Draco confirmed, draping an arm around your shoulder. “I’ve never seen him play like that. He wiped the floor with those pathetic Gryffindors. You should ignore him more often, Y/N."

Pansy wrinkled her nose. “Please don’t. Looking at his miserable face put me off my meals for an entire week. I couldn’t even bear to eat any of my special Belgian chocolates. I missed out on Belgian chocolates, Y/N!”

“You lot are overexaggerating,” Theo said, pulling you in by the waist. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Please, you were an absolute mess without Y/N,” Blaise added.

“More like an absolute wanker,” Mattheo supplied.

“An absolute supreme mega wanker,” Draco agreed. “Even by my standards.”

“It was pretty brutal,” said Enzo.

Theo glared at all of them before taking your hand. “Let’s go, Y/N. I’d rather not stand around and get insulted all night.”

“Sure thing. But I should probably tell Christoph that I’m…indisposed.”

Mattheo grinned mischievously. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Murdock.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What did you do, Riddle?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he said innocently. “The boys and I just let him know that he should set his sights elsewhere.”

“We also might have implied that we’d turn him into a horned bullfrog if he ever hit on you again,” Enzo said with a smile.

“The audacity he even had approaching you is frankly insulting,” Malfoy remarked. “Everyone knows you’re off limits.” He smirked. “Unfortunately.”

Theo fell right into Draco’s bait. “Don’t hit on my girl, Malfoy.”

Blaise raised an amused brow. “Oh, she’s your girl now, is she?

“Of course she is,” Theo said. He linked his fingers with yours and flashed those pretty eyes at you. The perfect mixture of blue and green, just like the ocean during a storm. “If she’ll have me.”

You smiled, wide and bright. “Come on, Teddy. Your girl wants to dance.”

#theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott fic #theodore nott fic #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire #draco malfoy

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star-girl69 · 3 months

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I Did Something Bad

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: you somehow become the target of a deadly vendetta, and it ends in an overnight stay in the infirmary, a lot of blood, and a lot of your scary girlfriend being her scary self.

a/n: save me clarisse “touch her and die” la rue save me save me save me save me save me save me… this is a completely self indulgent fic and no i will not apologize. love y’all!!!!!

inspired by an ask @nvirskies sent me

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

warnings: not proofread, VERY VIOLENT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF Y/N GETTING INJURED!!!!! BLOOD!!!!! WOUNDS!!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, anyways…. DANNNNNYYYYYY MY BABY!!!!! HES BACK!!!!!, ares cabin bonding time <3, FOUND FAMILY, y/n is crazy too, insane power couple who are insane together!!, y’all know what’s going on…… protective clarisse, possessive clarisse, insane clarisse, murderous clarisse, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, swearing, attempted murder!, LOTS of violence, kissing, clarisse hates talking about her feelings but she will do it for y/n, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

It’s the one place where she really gets to be in her element. That’s where she prefers to be- in the moment, hard and fast, a flurry of swords and adrenaline and the feeling of someone surrendering.

Of course, Clarisse is never the one surrendering. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone surrender to her.

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

And that love is also shared by her equally violently-minded siblings, which is why you’re sitting on her lap in the middle of the Ares cabin, listening to everyone scream and shout about tactics and plans and things that are just general boring.

Clarisse, of course, listens to everything. Silently humming to herself, drumming her fingers against your stomach, rolling her eyes and scoffing silently at some of her siblings ideas.

They all shout out ideas, but everyone knows that Clarisse has the final say.

You should probably be preparing with your own cabin- but this is just so much fun.

The tension in the room rises significantly after Nelson shuts down another one of Carrie’s ideas. Carrie has a mind made for the strategy of battle, where Nelson is all tough war and pain.

Clarisse likes to brag that she’s the perfect mix of both.

“I’m bored,” you huff, leaning back into your girlfriend. “Can they start punching each other again? Or something entertaining?”

She laughs and wraps her arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. “You’re so violent,” she mumbles. “I’m supposed to be the violent one.”

“I jus’ think it’s really funny,” you shrug. “Like, can you blame me? It’s objectively funny.”

Danny, your favorite of Clarisse’s siblings, skitters through his older siblings and throws himself onto the couch next to you.

“Did they start fighting yet?” he asks, practically bouncing in his seat.

“No,” you sigh, dramatically.

Clarisse puts her arm around his shoulder, and you know she feels ridiculously proud over the fact that she’s the favorite of the most lovable member of the Ares cabin, and the fact you’re literally draped over her.

Not your fault she’s so comfy.

“Hey, how you feelin’ about tomorrow?” you ask Danny.

His face hardens. “I’m gonna fuck a bitch up.”

“Oh, my Gods,” you mutter, listening to Clarisse chuckle and pat his back.

“Hell yeah,” she smiles.

“Good!” you say after a second, feeling slightly disturbed over the 11 year-old’s colorful language. But, who are you to stop him?

Clarisse sighs after a moment, and you look up to see Carrie and Nelson finally at each other’s throats. Besides for the fact it’s just so funny when the siblings fight, they should get all of the anger out now so they can work as a team tomorrow.

“Well, no, Nelson, we aren’t gonna fucking ‘kill them with kindness,’ because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey, fuckers,” Clarisse says, but they’re too absorbed in the fight to hear her.

You scramble off of her, climbing over Danny, watching in amazement as he opens the bag of pretzels he did not have in his hand a second ago- stuffing one in his mouth and holding it out to you.

These pretzels might have been buried in between the couch cushions. But they’re sealed, so who cares.

“You know what, fuck you, Carrie!” Nelson shouts, pushing her back.

“Askin’ for it,” she laughs, winding up and punching him straight in the face.

You can’t feel bad for the crunch, because Nelson should have know Carrie was gonna punch him- he could have at least put in an effort to stop her. Instead, he just stood there and took it.

“Oh,” Matty winces, sliding next to you. Why the hell are random things just appearing? Did he come out of the cushions too? Probably, seeing as he’s always falling asleep. “Askin’ for it,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

Nelson recovers from the hit and jabs at Carrie- but she stands there, hand on her hip, completely still.

Clarisse catches his arm.

He’s breathing out heavily, and the room goes pretty much silent- except for you, Danny and Matty chomping on pretzels in the corner of the couch.

“You’re fuckin’ embarrassing, Nelson.”

He pulls himself away from her and huffs, heading to the bathroom to deal with his bright red cheek.

Clarisse sighs heavily.

“Gods, can’t have one night without someone punching someone.”

Carrie looks around the room with a smug smile, scoffing when Clarisse shoulders her as she walks past. She lays down in your waiting arms, kissing your hand as you wrap them around her.

“Gettin’ on my nerves,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and leaning into you.

“I know,” you soothe, turning around and making a silly face to Danny at her dramatics.

—-

Nelson is obviously still angry the next day. His helmet doesn’t cover all of the nasty bruise on his cheek, a sickening purple against his tan skin.

Him and Carrie swap glares across the the throngs of red helmets.

“Okay, Carrie, stop,” you huff. “He might actually kill you. You’re the one who got a punch in- let it go.”

She turns to glare at you, now.

“Tell him to stop staring at me.”

“Well, you can help by looking away first.”

“Fine,” she mumbles, putting her helmet on and tightening her grip on her sword. Chiron made his usual speech around 10 minutes ago, and Clarisse has finally finished updating everyone- more like yelling incoherently at everyone- about their positions.

But you have a similar strategy.

The blue team has the brains of the Athena Cabin, but the red team has all the brute strength.

Clarisse huffs, walking over to you and Carrie.

“Okay, ready?” she asks, reaching over to tighten the straps of your armor- even through they’re perfectly fine- by habit.

Carrie let’s out a deep breath. “Yes. Very ready to fuckin’ pummel those blue shits and pretend they’re Nelson.”

“That’s the spirit!” you smile, slapping her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and steps away from you, smiling slightly.

Danny and Matty walk over, and your little band is complete. You hunt in the woods just south of the flag, deterring a lot of hopefuls. The older campers know to come up with sneakier ways to get by, but Clarisse is otherwise confident in those she placed by the flag to really protect it.

You strike out into an offensive stance, pointing the end of your blade straight at Danny- and he quickly counters with his own impeccable stance.

“Oh, yeah, they don’t stand a chance,” you smile, and he returns it.

—-

You take your normal routes through the woods.

With the added weight of you and Danny, the group is not as stealthy as they could be- but Clarisse is a secret teddy bear who doesn’t like to be away from you for long, and Danny is too young to be set loose, left to watch the big kids work, occasionally jumping in for a few swings.

Leaves crunch under your feet in the otherwise silent forest. You’ve already come across a few stragglers, and before you could even raise your sword the Ares siblings had disarmed them. Your heart squeezed seeing the absolutely heartbroken look on Danny’s face- he was promised that this time he could really fight.

And after you pulled Clarisse off to the side and reminded her of her deal- Danny was leading the group, with you and Clarisse behind him.

He marches tall and proud, sword pointed out, even though Clarisse scolds him and says his arm will get tired- he’s young and doesn’t listen to his half-sibling.

You smile, watching him, admiring how carefree he is. The walk continues mostly in a stealthy silence- Clarisse, Carrie and Matty has mastered the art of walking silently- so your cover is lost by you and Danny.

Of course, whenever you try to convince Clarisse that maybe you should go somewhere else- she looks at you like you’ve suddenly turned into a female Minotaur.

Clarisse, her hand in yours right now, has a hard time understanding the concept that she can’t be with you all the time. That you might get hurt, that she can’t always stop it.

It’s sweet how constantly concerned she is over you, it makes your stomach twist so good.

She squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your reverie. Voices.

“Danny,” you whisper, almost silently, kicking the back of his leg. When he turns around, frown on his face, you point towards the direction of the voices- and now footsteps.

You all stop in your tracks.

Danny practically jumps up in down, you smile wide, and Clarisse signals to Carrie and Matty, urging you and Danny closer to the action.

When they come into the clearing, a few Hermes kids dressed in blue bandanas, swords in their hands. They’re all strong, you’ve seen them around- recognize them vaguely as potentials that lost to Clarisse in ugly sparring matches.

The siblings have disappeared into the trees.

So it’s just you, unsuspecting, and Danny.

You can see the triumphant looks on their faces.

Except for one of them.

Nicky, maybe? You don’t care enough about him to know his name. But there’s something more in his eyes that you notice immediately, something similar to the passion Clarisse gets in her eyes at the mention of this game.

Danny jumps forward, sword swinging just the way his blood knows, the way his siblings have taught him meticulously.

They seem momentarily surprised at the force his small body can produce, quickly countering with their own jabs, swords clashing together. The other focuses on you.

You’re not worried, you know the siblings are just letting the two of you have your moments before they really come in and you can sit back and watch Clarisse fight. Muscles rippling, sick smile on her face, spear glowing with electricity.

He comes at you and your swords clash together, the force of it making your teeth ring- Gods, he’s strong. He pulls back and you do the same thing a few more times, neither of you able to get the upper hand- until he finally seems to realize his height advantage.

He swings his sword down on you, pressing down hard- and with gravity on his side you have to put all of your focus into stopping that downward sword.

You don’t see his foot coming out to kick you back.

You only feel it, boot in your chest, wind knocked out of you, groaning as you slam into the ground.

“Fuck,” you breathe, tasting blood in your mouth.

“Y/N!” Danny shouts, and that’s when you see his sword coming down on you again. He does it on purpose, that much is sword, the strategic placing of his sword slicing through the top of your arm.

He doesn’t mean to kill you. He means to hurt you.

His purpose isn’t winning the game, you realize as the blade tears through skin, his purpose is to hurt you. That’s what you saw in his eyes.

Delight that his prey was right in front of him.

The realization washes over you like a wave- but like the real ocean, another one comes- an overwhelming feeling of pain, blooming outward like a flower.

He bites his lip in concentration, standing over you as his blade sinks into the dirt. He smiles wide, hitting his target.

You scream.

It’s a quick stop. The clearing is filled with the sound of your screams, swords stopping in midair- everyone realizing simultaneously that you’re really hurt. That this boy hurt you on purpose.

Something cuts through the air, wind in your ears, swiftly burying itself through Nicky’s armor and into his side.

You’ve realized in the last day that men are stupid. First, it was Nelson not expecting to get punched, and now it was Nicky not prepared for a retaliation after hurting you.

The thick armor slowed down the spear, so it unfortunately stabs his side and falls right out.

He yells in pain, ripping off his armor, revealing a small cut. Nothing compared to yours, but you can faintly recognize the fire in his eyes before Matty is leaning over you and Carrie is wrapping a bandana above the pain in your arm.

You hear the sounds of something happening, someone fighting, skin on skin.

You hear all of this, you see all of it, but all you can feel is the burning, burning cut in your arm. It feels like he cut it off. Your mind is hazy, you know blood is gushing, you never knew something could hurt this bad.

You faintly realize you bit your tongue when you went down. Blood spurts from your mouth when you cough, when you groan in pain, when you say her name like a prayer over and over again.

“Clarisse,” you moan, legs twisting around, trying to get away from the pain that you can’t escape from. “Clarisse, Clarisse, please, Clar…”

Matty pulls your head into his lap.

You can tell it’s bad, you can see the queasy look on his face. You clench your fist- the one you can feel, at least- to keep from screaming, heels digging into the dirt. You’re still trying to get away. But you can’t. You can’t get away from this all consuming pain.

“It’s okay,” Danny whispers, suddenly appearing next to you. He voice shakes, he doesn’t know, he can’t tell you anything reassuring.

“Can you go find someone, Danny? One of the Apollo kids, anyone?”

He ignores Carrie, starring at you for a second longer.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, his voice quiet, finally able to act like the young boy he is.

“You can go,” you breathe, somehow finding the strength to make him believe you’re okay. “Go help me, okay?”

His little footsteps disappear into the woods faster than you’ve ever heard him run, even when they have his favorite brownies for dessert.

You let out a sob.

“D-did he cut it off?” you moan. “It feels like he cut it off, please tell me he didn’t… he didn’t cut my arm off…”

“Oh, fuck, no,” Carrie breathes, pressing down agains the wound to try and stop the blood from gushing out- but it doesn’t really help. It’s just too much. “I mean, it’s deep and it’s nasty, but you’ve still got an arm, don’t worry.”

She laughs, awkwardly, nervously. You can feel even more of your arm drifting away, blood pouring out onto the ground.

“Hey, hey, no,” Matty mutters, lightly hitting your face.

“Wha-”

“Can’t fall asleep, Y/N,” Carrie says, nervously. “Sit up against Matty, come on, huh?” you lean against Matty, head clearing now that there’s fresh air in your system.

Your eyes focus on Clarisse.

Except she’s not anywhere near you, she’s 10 feet away, punching Nicky so hard you’re surprised he’s still standing.

Carrie cringes. “Okay, maybe don’t look at that.”

But you’re sort of entranced by her. She’s not outwardly angry, her face reveals nothing- just a mask of hard, unrelenting focus. It should scare you, how much concentration she puts into her deadly punches, blood flying with each hit she lands. Her knuckles are red, his face is a mess, but it’s exhilarating to know she would do this for you.

A sickening crack rents the air. “My fucking nose, fuck, fuck, screw you, you fucking bitch! Fuck-”

The smallest smile creeps it way onto her face. She wipes her mouth, leaving blood on her lips- but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“I can keep going!” she shouts back, grabbing his shirt. “You wanna do that shit? I’m only getting started. I’m gonna throw you around, then I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”

“Wait! Wait, okay, wait, shit,” he breathes, holding his hands up in surrender. Blood pours from his nose, down to her hand bunched in his shirt. He’s taller than her, yet he’s surrendering.

“You’re pathetic,” she hisses, pushing him back. He hits the ground with a groan, trying to grab for a rock, a sword, anything to defend himself against Clarisse and her fury.

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

One of the reasons why she does is because she gets to let out all her anger. She looks at you, but not in your eyes- she looks at the wound on your arm. You can see the red pouring out of the corner of your eye- but you choose to ignore it, instead focusing on the way the fire inside of her gets relit at the sight of your blood. She has plenty reason to be angry now.

She grabs her spear, sauntering over to him, laughing at the way he can’t even try to get up.

“So fuckin’ stupid,” she smiles, tilting her head. Then the tip of her spear is pointing right at his neck, she’s standing over him the way he did to you. “How’s it feel?” she smiles.

He coughs, hissing in pain.

“I’m scared, Clarisse, okay? You got your fucking revenge, but it wasn’t me.”

She laughs, loud and boisterous. “I just saw you cut her, dumbass. I really should kill you, just as a favor to the world.”

“Paid me,” he coughs. “Drachmas, in exchange for hurting your girlfriend-”

She presses the blade against his throat, he yells out.

“Who?”

He stays silent.

“Who?!” she yells, kicking his stomach.

“Nelson!” he screams. “Nelson! Nelson paid me, please, Clarisse-”

She moves the blade away, and he hisses- she probably just barely drew blood.

“I’m not done yet,” she whispers, deadly promise dripping from her words. She turns around, fades out of focus for a second, and then she’s right next to you.

Her hands are cupping your face, she looks sick, seeing you like this up close- but all she does is kiss your forehead. Like you, she doesn’t want to look at your flesh and blood.

“I’m here, I’m here, oh, fuck. Gods, what the fuck,” she mumbles, looking very pointedly away from the wound, finally seeing how bad it is up close.

“Clarisse.”

“I know,” she whispers, smoothing your hair back. “I know, baby, I know, but it’s gonna be okay.”

Danny runs into the clearing, shouting “just over here” while healers follow him, immediately groaning at the smell of blood, the sight of it.

Clarisse switches places with Matty, holding you against her, kissing your head again and again, muttering about how brave you are.

You almost laugh at the odd looks the Apollo kids give her, unused to seeing the big bad Clarisse so soft. But they just don’t know her like you do. She doesn’t love them like she loves you.

One of them starts to clean the blood, and your eyes drift shut as the other starts to mend your skin back together.

—-

You wake up with familiar curly hair in your face.

You spit it out, groaning, mouth feeling fuzzy, everything feelings fuzzy.

“Clarisse?” you mumble, eyes not even open, but you wake up with that hair in your mouth everyday, and you’ve memorized the weight of her arm around your waist.

She sits up immediately, jumping out of bed, standing up and fixing her messy hair like someone’s gonna be there.

“Um, hello? I was speaking, crazy girl.”

“Oh, thank Gods,” she mumbles, blowing hair out of her face and sitting back down. “Thought we got caught.”

You look at her, then your surroundings-

“Oh, holy shit,” she says, staring at you like a deer in headlights. “Wait, you’re awake. You’re awake!”

She throws her arms around you, burying her face into your neck, reverberating with the sound of your laughter.

“You make it sound like I’ve been in a coma for 10 years.” Your heart drops. “Have I… been asleep for a while?”

“Um,” she says, softly, biting her lip as she extricated herself from your neck. “Capture the flag was yesterday, so… no.”

“So you’re just being dramatic?”

“Possibly,” she smiles. “It’s not my fault you’ve taken over my entire brain.” She shows her bruised knuckles, split open, already starting to scab. “I said not to fix ‘em up. They don’t hurt that bad, and they look fucking cool.”

You grab her hands, relieved it’s only been a day, kissing the rough scabs. She blushes, although she tries her best not to, breathing in deeply.

“How are you feeling, baby?”

You look towards your totally healed arm, finally realizing that you know have full control of your hands, unlike yesterday. It’s wrapped in a bandage for precautions, but it feels totally healed.

“All good,” you smile.

“You gotta take it real easy for the next week or so, yeah?” she fusses, brushing hair behind your ear. “So you call me, or one of my siblings, anyone to help you with anything. No lifting heavy stuff, don’t do anything too fast- you might tear the healing.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll carry me around like a princess?” you giggle, laying back, inviting her into your arms. She gets back under the covers, head against your chest so she can hear your heartbeat.

“That’s not a bad idea, actually. Practical. Very safe.”

You hit her shoulder. “I’m joking.”

“Eh, I’ll change your mind.”

You smile, running your hands through her hair, enjoying the early mornings with her warmth against you, soft sunlight peeking through windows.

She sits up after a moment, laying her head back on the pillow, arm back around your waist. She just sits there for a moment, you can feel her admiring you. Clarisse doesn’t look at you. She traces your face with her eyes, imagining it was her hands, her lips, she admires you like she sees a reverence in your eyes that has nothing to do with your godly parent.

“Can you promise me something?” she asks, whispering softly, even though you’re the only two people around.

“What?” you say, staring at the ceiling, feeling like you might fall back asleep.

“Don’t get hurt. Like, ever again, please.”

You smile. “Okay, baby,” you mumble.

“I’m serious,” she smiles, nudging your cheek with her nose. “I… I was really scared. And I don’t like to feel that way, especially when it comes to you. I was angry, too. I was so fuckin’ angry I’m surprised I didn’t kill him. You can’t get hurt like that, not again, you just gotta let me protect you. Or else I might actually kill someone, Y/N.”

“I know,” you mumble. “I watched you.”

“Did I scare you?” she asks, voice soft. There’s no hint of your loving, smiley Clarisse in this bed right now. She’s worried, as if she could ever scare you.

“No,” you say, honestly. “It’s sweet how far you’re willing to go for me.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “You better like it. Do you know what I got for that? Eight months no dessert. Five months cleaning the fuckin’ stables.”

You barely hide your laugh. “Oh, my Gods, are you serious?”

“Yes,” she grumbles. “But, I’ve decided it’s fine. You’re my loving girlfriend, right? You can sit there all pretty so I have something to look at when I’m cleaning. And you’ll share your dessert with me, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, turning your head. “I will.”

“I really love you. My perfect pretty princess,” she jokes, smiling lopsidedly, and you return it. “You’ll let me protect you, and maybe I can get some decent sleep at night, huh?”

When she presses her hand to your face and her lips to yours, you think nothing could possible ruin this moment. It’s just you and her, and everything that’s beautiful.

“You always protect me, Clar,” you smile.

She smiles, lips grazing yours. This is your Clarisse. The one who smiles just for you, who puts her rough hand softly against your face. This is your Clarisse, the one who would do anything for you, the one who wants to carry you around, the one who wants to protect you and hold you and never let anyone fuck with her baby.

The door slams open, someone is laughing boisterously, another person is groaning in pain, and a familiar voice is shouting your names.

“Clarisse! Y/N! Clarisse, Clarisse! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Danny shouts, dragging out the last syllable of your name. He jumps onto the bed by your feet, even when Clarisse frowns, looking at you like a puppy dog who’s just brought a dead bird to your doorstep.

And as you look at the scene behind you, Nelson being laid on another bed, Carrie being helped into the corner- laughing hysterically, knuckles split open.

Nelson’s face is practically unrecognizable.

You suppose Danny really did bring something unsavory like a dead bird, dropping it right at your feet.

“So, we all woke up right?”

Your eyes whip to Danny, shocked as he know launches into a story about Carrie waking up to Nelson saying he hadn’t been called to the Big House yet, maybe he would get away from it- but swiftly received punishment in the form of Carrie’s fists. With Clarisse in your bed, no one had the guts to stop them, and they fought for what must have been 10 minutes- Nelson very obviously losing.

“And, now we’re here,” Danny sighs, breathing out after his long and embellished rant. “But you’re awake, Y/N!”

He looks at your skeptically- specifically, at your arm.

“Can I hug you?”

“Oh,” you smile, your heart twisting with such a fondness for this wonderful little kid. “Of course you can, Danny,” you smile, opening your arms wide.

“Yes, just be careful,” Clarisse cautions, her arm around your waist. “Watch the arm, huh?”

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse,” you mumble, breath messing his hair.

“He’s 11.”

“Baby,” you reinforce, squeezing him tighter.

“Y/N… you’re crushing me,” he groans.

“Oops,” you say, letting him go. “You’re just too cute,” you coo.

Clarisse scoffs from next to you. You smile, kissing her cheek. “You’re beautiful. Scary, dangerous. Not cute, though.”

She hums. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Carrie walks over, sporting her split knuckles, also opting to let them heal naturally like Clarisse. She shows them off with a wide smile, even as Nelson screams in the background when they reset his nose.

Matty rubs his temples.

You smile, looking around at your very dysfunctional, very awkward, but loving family-adjacent.

“Hey, did we end up winning the game?” you ask.

Clarisse snorts. “Oh, nah. Without us, they were lost. Who cares, though?”

“Yeah, I liked beating Nelson up much more than I would have liked winning,” Carrie smiles.

“Next time,” Danny starts, “Can I lead again?”

Clarisse squints at him. “…Maybe.”

You wink at him, nodding subtly.

“Okay!” he smiles.

Clarisse kisses your forehead.

“I love you, pretty baby,” she mumbles.

You smile. “I love you too, scary baby.”

—-

clarisse when she sees y/n get hurt: oh so the only natural response to to THROW A FUCKING SPEAR AT SOMEONE

appreciation for the fact she threw it from like really far away and just tore through his armor likkkkeeee

nelson and nicky sitting in the infirmary together hugging each other terrified clarisse and carrie are going to come back for more

nicky does not sleep at night anymore SHE SAID SHE WASNT DONE

—-

shout out to my baby danny he carried this fic fr

shoutout to y/n for getting WRECKED so we could have this beautiful moment w clarisse

shoutout to matty for being his beautiful self

shoutout to carrie for being her violent self

and finally shoutout to clarisse for being overprotective and insane

—-

clarisse after she actually convinced y/n to let her carry her around everywhere: 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

bitch is so happy…

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

1K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 5 months

Note

can i request poly!marauders x female reader where she gets burnt out easily and most people don't know this cause she like leaves or hides before they can see. So one day they were hanging out all day and she gets burnt out but they don't know what happened so they get all worried when she all of a sudden just looks so drained and tired and can barely smile or anything. Sorry if this doesn't make sense. This happens to me a lot with new friends and because I get so burnt out I sometimes even need other people to explain for me cause talking is even too much. Thank you so much if you do it!! ♡♡♡♡♡I love your fics so much♡♡♡♡

Thanks for requesting gorgeous, love you :)

cw: social burnout

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 948 words

“I just don’t see why they would change them,” James complains, sipping dissatisfiedly at his butterbeer.

“You’re such a creature of habit,” Sirius sighs heavily, but you all know his boredom is for show. He only wants to rile James.

“The old quidditch uniforms were just fine,” James is practically monologuing now, staring into the middle distance with a furrow between his brows. His elbow bumps your arm as he gestures helplessly. “Red and gold—those are the Gryffindor colors, red and gold. So why are the new uniforms bright red and yellow?”

“Maybe so you’re more visible,” you suggest, and Remus’ lips twist amusedly as he leans across the table to sip at your butterbeer. Neither of you had much appetite after your long day of snacking at the quidditch match, so you’d agreed to split one. You’ll admit, you find the two straws poking out of your mug embarrassingly romantic.

“We look tacky,” James grumbles, slumping a bit in his seat. You see Remus’ arm reach under the table, and you know he’s straining to rub his boyfriend’s thigh consolingly. “The gold was so much better.”

“At least you can pull off a yellow like that,” Sirius points out. “Can’t say the same for Callaghan. He looked totally washed out.”

This would be your time to chip in with a comment about how Sirius’ pallid countenance wouldn’t fare so well in the new colors either, but you find you don’t want to. There’s a persistent pressure at your temples. Once you acknowledge it, the rest is impossible to stop. Exhaustion seeps into you like a poison, all the way down to your bones, and you’re done. You’ve been around people—mostly your boyfriends, who you love very much, but people nonetheless—since you woke up this morning, and had talked and laughed and participated all day long, and now you’re done. You want to be home.

“True, but even he looked better than you would have, Pads,” James voices the zinger for you, he and Remus trading entertained looks when Sirius starts spluttering about how he looks good in every color, thank you very much.

“Alright, I can’t have any more of this.” Remus pushes the butterbeer towards you decisively. “All yours, dove.”

You know you haven’t had anywhere near your fair share, but the idea of reaching over, of going through the effort of bringing the straw to your lips, is too much. “Thanks,” you say to him, “I’m good.”

Remus’ brow creases. You feel horribly dramatic.

“I’ll take it,” James says merrily, reaching for the mug before Sirius slaps his hand away.

“Oi, it’s hers.” Sirius gives him a mean look, nudging the butterbeer back towards you. “You’re like a fucking vulture, Prongs. Darling, are you sure you don’t want what’s left? You know he’ll down it in one gulp.”

“I’m sure.” You try to give him a smile, but even you can feel what a flimsy attempt it is. “Thanks anyway.”

Sirius’ expression clouds over with concern, and you look at the table.

“Hey.” James reaches for your hand, squeezing your fingers lightly between his. “What’s up, lovely?”

You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Just tired.”

Sirius makes an incredulous sound, and you know what he wants to say even though he doesn’t. Yeah, I can see that. “Did something happen?” he asks instead.

You frown, hating that you don’t have a more satisfying answer. “No.”

“Dove,” Remus tries to get your attention from across the table. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine, honey.” James’ voice is soft, but you can hear the unease in it. “Are you sure you’re not sick?” He touches the back of his hand to your forehead, then lets it slip down to your cheek. “Maybe it was the butterbeer. Rem, are you feeling alright?”

“I feel normal,” Remus says, seeming at a loss.

“Hey.” There’s a hand on your leg, and you look up to see Sirius leaning towards you, giving you one of his stern looks. “What’s going on with you, huh? Talk to us.”

“I’m fine, seriously.” You do your best to look it, sitting up from James’ shoulder, though your dull voice belies your words. “I’m just drained.”

“Drained how?” he presses.

“Just…done.” You shrug helplessly. “I’m sorry, I think I want to go home. I just need to be by myself for a little bit, is that okay?”

“Of course,” Remus says, standing and grabbing his coat. “You don’t have to be sorry, dove. It was just a long day, is that it?”

You nod, relieved.

He shrugs on his own coat before grabbing yours, helping you into it when you slide out of the booth. “I understand. It’s been a lot of socializing for one day. You should have told us you were feeling tired, I could have gone home with you after the game.”

“I didn’t know until it just happened,” you say, but you don’t have the energy to really argue.

Remus doesn’t want to, either. He kisses the top of your head as he zips your coat, taking your hand in his.

“We’ll get you home and you can hole up as long as you need,” Sirius promises, pulling on his gloves. “You introverts, so weak.”

“She’s probably drained because of you,” James teases back. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side.

“That’s not how it works,” you say quietly, but James shushes you, dipping down to kiss the side of your head.

“I know, angel, but if you say it is, he’ll be buying your butterbeers for the next week. The month, if you play it right.”

2K notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 5 months

Note

came out of surgery and was just imagining pre-outbreak joel high on anesthesia, being all cute and flirty with the reader 🥺🥺 can I request that as a fic??? 👉👈

AN | Oh but this would be one of the funniest situations!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language; mention of surgery

Word Count | 2.4k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” Joel huffed, looking at you almost as if to make sure you were really making him go through with it. Not that you'd forced him or anything but…still. He did not want to do this.

“It'll be fine you big baby,” you snorted, kissing his cheek before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the front door. He groaned slightly at the feeling, rubbing at his sore jaw, “and that's exactly why we're doing this. So you're not in constant pain!”

“I’m a grown ass man,” he was grumbling as he followed out to the car, “I’ve lived 35 years with these stupid teeth and I can continue to live with them.”

“It doesn’t matter how old you are - they’re bothering you and I’m tired of hearing you whine about them,” you opened the passenger door to his truck and motioned for him to get, “you’re going to listen to me, Joel Miller.”

“I do - I do not whine,” with that he got into the truck a big pout on his face as you closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

“It’ll be fine, love. It’ll be done in a few hours, then you can rest and eat ice cream and I’ll take care of you. In a few days to a week you’ll be good as new.”

“But - “

“But nothing,” you turned on the car, “I was in my late twenties when I got mine out a couple of years ago and it was just fine. I survived and you’ll survive.”

“Fine,” he sighed heavily as he stared at the road, “but I want lots of ice cream when it’s done.”

“Then we’ll get all the ice cream, Joel Miller,” you reached over and gave his knee a squeeze, “you big weenie.”

“Stop,” he groaned softly.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Mrs. Miller?”

“Oh, I’m…” you stopped yourself and didn’t bother to correct the dental assistant as you stood up and walked over to her, “how did it go?”

“Everything went just fine,” she explained and you relaxed and let out a small sigh of relief, “no complications at all. I think he’ll heal up just fine.”

“I have no doubt about that,” you watched as she walked back to collect Joel, leaving you unsure of what exactly to expect with him. You whispered to yourself, “I’m sure he’ll make a full recovery, dramatic of course but full.”

A few minutes later a very drowsy looking Joel walked out, looking around in confusion. It took him a few moments to realize that you were there but as soon as he did, his entire face, as much as you could see of it anyway, lit up, “wow. You’re so pretty!”

You had to work extremely hard not to burst into a bit of giggles at one, how pathetic he looked, and two how muffled and mumbly he sounded. You walked over to him and reached for his hand, tenderly taking it in yours, “hi, my love.”

He looked around for a moment, a confused look in his eyes as he looked around the room to see who you were possibly talking about. Then realization hit him, “you're talking to me?”

“Yes, of course,” you chewed on the inside of your cheek, “come on, let's get everything you need and then we can get out of here.”

“Where are we going?”

“Home-”

“Together? Do we live together?” He looked so genuinely bewildered that this time you couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped you.

“Yes,” you promised sweetly, “we live together.”

“Wow,” he whispered under his breath, watching as you went to the counter to get everything for him and get any special instructions. While you were listening intently, Joel was looking around at everything in awe, seemingly mesmerized by so many little things.

Once you had written instructions and everything in hand, you turned back to him, only to find him standing there with a sleepy expression on his face. You reached for his hand, taking it gently in yours and started to head towards the door, “c’mon, love. We’re all set. You have to come back in about a week for your follow up, but otherwise you’re all set.”

“Why do I have to come back?” he trailed alongside you, words still muffled from the cotton in his mouth, “I don’t want to come back.”

“Honey, you just had surgery and they took your teeth out-”

“My teeth?” he looked horrified for a moment as he reached up and touched his face, which was still partially numb, “they stole my teeth!”

“Oh - I mean, I guess you’re not wrong,” you took his hands gently and shook your head, “they were meant to take them, Joel. They were giving you problems.”

“What if I die without them?” He looked so upset - ridiculously adorable but upset.

“You’re not going to die,” you insisted, “I promise you’re going to be fine. A little uncomfortable for a few days but then you’ll be fine.”

“And you’ll be there?”

“Of course I will,” you helped him into the truck again, “I’ll always be there.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really pretty?” you could feel his gaze practically burning into you as you walked through the aisles of the grocery store. You’d insisted that you should get him home first so he could rest but he insisted on coming with you so he could pick out exactly what ice cream he wanted and what pudding flavors he liked best. You knew better than to argue with him, even in his current state.

You stopped with your hand halfway into the freezer and gave him a curious expression, “umm, well…pretty sure I’ve heard that a few times before.”

“Well, you should…because it’s true,” he offered you a small, lopsided little smile.

“Oh? I’ll keep that in mind,” you turned back to the taste at hand, shaking your head lightly to yourself.

Once the cart was loaded up with everything needed for the next few days and you’d snagged the prescription for his antibiotics and pain medication, you head towards the checkout.

Joel appeared to be mostly alright, except for the way he stared at everything and made silly little comments about everything and anything. After you placed everything onto the conveyor belt, you turned around to make sure everything was alright. He waved at you sheepishly before he seemed to get ahead of himself, “do you have a boyfriend?”

Alright…that caught you by surprise. You’d thought he had managed to put the pieces together by now but apparently whatever they had used on him at the dentist’s office was strong. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, “umm…yeah. I do actually…have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” the look on his face was nothing short of crestfallen, “t-that’s good. I guess.”

You hummed under your breath as you greeted the checker and paid for everything. You grabbed the bags and motioned for him to follow you as you walked back out to the truck, “c’mon Joel! Don’t need you slowing me down!”

“Yeah…coming,” he mumbled as he helped you to load the backs into the backseat of the truck. He got in as soon as you were done, hopping into the passenger seat and crossing his arms over his broad chest, “does he treat you good? Your boyfriend?”

“He does,” you promised, absolutely meaning it. Joel was the best friend and partner you’d ever had, “he’s amazing. And I love him a lot.”

“Cool,” and he seemed like he thought it was anything but cool, “cool.”

“Mhmm…”

“I think maybe we should go on a date,” he mumbled, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window, “we could be good together. I can treat you right.”

“I’m sure you could,” you chuckled as you turned onto your street, “as a matter of fact, I know you could.”

“Then…I…why-”

“Joel Miller, I don’t know if I should be offended or amused that you don’t remember,” you pretended to scoff heavily as you pulled into the driveway and parked the truck, “we’re dating, silly man. You’re the boyfriend. My boyfriend.”

“No way,” his pretty brown eyes lit up with excitement as he pointed in between the two of you, “you’re dating me?”

“I sure am and vice versa,” you grinned happily as you slid out of the driver’s side and started to grab the groceries to bring them inside. He scrambled to keep up with you, eyes practically glued to you, “come on, love. I know you’re staring at my ass, but you can do that any other time. Now it’s time for you to get some rest.”

“Yes ma’am,” he came up and grabbed half the bags from you and headed in as soon as you had the door unlocked. You made quick work of putting everything away and ushering him upstairs to the bedroom.

For a small surprise you’d gotten him some comfy new pajamas to wear in his recovery. He claimed that he would be just fine but you knew that he was going to be a big baby. Might as well make it so he would be a comfortable big baby.

“Here you go,” you looked through the top drawer of the dresser and handed him the clean pajamas. He made a small sound of happiness, “go get changed and then into bed for you. You need to rest and need to do less talking.”

“But nothing,” you nudged him towards the bed with your hip, “besides, I guarantee that as soon as you’re in bed and comfortable the tiredness is going to set in and get you. You didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“But-”

“That’s not gonna happen,” he stripped down and put on the comfy clothes, groaning as he laid down in the soft, clean sheets. You offered him a knowing look as he made himself comfortable. He badly stifled a yawn as you raised an eyebrow, “fine, maybe you’re right.”

“I’ll grab a book and some movies in case you can’t or don’t want to sleep after a while,” you looked him over and made sure everything was in check, “and I’ll grab some water and pain meds.”

“You’re the best,” he was already getting sleepy, partly wishing you’d just get in with him, “‘m lucky you decided to date me. I wanna take you on a date when I feel better.”

“Don’t worry I’m counting on that,” you paused in the doorway for a moment, “I’m lucky to have you too, Joel. Get some rest okay? I’ll just be downstairs.”

“Can I have ice cream soon?”

“Yeah baby,” you grinned softly, “you can have all the ice cream you want later.”

“And you?”

“And me.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you got home and Joel settled into bed, you were worn out. You made yourself a snack and sat down on the couch to watch some mindless television. There was ice cream stock piled on the freezer for when he woke up and lots of puddings and broths and yogurts for the next few days ahead. Sarah was still at a friend’s house for the night but you knew that she’d love getting to mess with Joel while he was out of commission.

After a few episodes of the show you’d thrown on, you heard the creak of the stairs. You looked up and found Joel looking at you with a pathetic little expression on his face. You smiled softly in return before motioning for him to come over and join you.

“How’re you feeling, baby?” you lifted the warm blanket and you were under and he snuggled up to you, wasting no time in getting as comfortable as possible.

“‘m okay,” he huffed as you reached up and brushed his hair out of his face, “my mouth feels weird and gross and it hurts a little. Otherwise right as rain.”

“You can use that mouthwash they gave after you eat a little something and get some pain medication. You’ll be able to brush your teeth in a day or two,” with the lightest of touches, you ghosted your fingers along his jaw. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, “you’re already doing good, Joel. Better than earlier anyway.”

“Oh no,” he groaned softly as you laughed, “how stupid was I acting? I feel like it was a dream, I don’t remember a lot, just bits.”

“Well, you didn’t remember that we were together, then you were shocked that I was living with you. You proceeded to flirt - albeit very badly - with me and tried to get me to agree to go on a date with you. Seemed like you’d do anything for that. When I reminded you that we’re actually already dating - that kind of together - you almost lost it. So yeah, you were something else.”

“Fuck me,” he groaned as he tried to hide his face from you. His cheeks were tinged a bright pink as you giggled, “well that’s embarrassing. Let’s never talk about this again.”

“Nice try,” you shook your head, “I am so telling Sarah when she gets home tomorrow. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Joel Miller.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t baby me, baby,” you placed a kiss to the bridge of his nose, “You had your fun and now I get to have mine.”

“Fine,” he pouted, already knowing that neither of his girls were ever going to let him forget this, “fine.”

“You ready for some ice cream?” your voice was sticky sweet as you looked him over. He looked somewhere between miserable and thankful and totally in love as you made your way over to the kitchen, “there’s plenty in the freezer!”

“...yes please.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou

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sunkissed-zegras · 9 days

Text

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige x iowa!reader (pre-relationship) on game day where maybe r is mic'd up the whole time so fans hear how they flirt, joke around, etc so they start shipping them? the other uconn/iowa girlies always tease them abt it and one night they all go out to a bar tg and someones on live and accidentally catches p and r against a wall kissing or smthn 🫣" for my lovely disco nonnie!

─ word count | 2.6k

─ warnings | teasing, lots and LOTS of teasing, mention of injuries, so much flirting, teasing, slightly suggestive, kissing.... oh and did i mention teasing????

─ taglist | guys idk why my taglist isn't working pls help me and lmk

─ ev's notes | okay so i want to know if yall like the little comment section i put in some of the posts, because i love doing them and i wanna know what ur thoughts are.

"OKAY, HEY LADIES and gents. It's your favorite, me. Y/N L/N," you tried to whisper into the mic secretively as you looked around. Before you could continue talking, you felt Caitlin grab your shoulders and shake you, eliciting a yelp from you.

You sent her a glare as she giggled and walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyways, sorry for that stupid interruption. It's game day here at Iowa and we're going against... I don't even remember their names."

You were obviously joking, you had plenty of friends on the UConn basketball team and it was running joke that you didn't like them. You smirked into the camera, knowing full well that your faux ignorance would rile up some competition.

"But hey, who needs names when we've got game, am I right?" You grinned, your enthusiasm showing. "So, while we prepare to show those other guys what real basketball looks like, let's talk strategy."

Leaning in closer to the microphone, you adopted a more serious tone, though the mischievous glint in your eye remained. "First off, we gotta dominate the boards. Rebounds win games, folks. Then, we'll run those fast breaks like there's no tomorrow. Speed kills, baby."

You paused for dramatic effect, pretending to adjust an imaginary headset. "And of course, let's not forget about defense. Lock 'em down, make 'em work for every shot. That's how we do it here at Iowa."

You turned around to see some of your teammates giggling at you, causing you to roll your eyes. "I'm getting bullied again, guys. Remember amazing, hot and very cool players have feelings too, okay?"

"Can you shut the hell up and come stretch with us?" You heard Caitlin shout from the court, causing you to sigh dramatically.

With a playful wink at the camera, you turned away, joining your teammates on the court for the pre-game warm-up. As you stretched and bantered with them, you saw the opponents walk in. You couldn't help but bit your lower lip as you averted your gaze from a particular blonde whom you've gotten close to these last couple of months.

After last year's game, Paige followed you on Instagram and you began talking more. However when you two got injured around the same time, it caused you two to talk more and form a closer bond. Eventually, it turned into Paige texting and calling you every single day and now, it's like you two have known each other your entire lives despite you guys seeing each other face to face three times.

You couldn't help but steal glances at her as you stretched, a small smile playing on your lips whenever your eyes met. The familiar banter and teasing between your teams seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn to her presence.

But amidst the closeness, there lingered an unspoken tension ─ a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach whenever Paige's eyes met yours, or the way your heart raced whenever she flashed you a smile.

Caitlin's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. "Yo, Y/N! Focus up, we've got a game to win!"

"Oh my gosh, look it's serious Caitlin I'm so scared," you spoke into the mic quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear you. Unfortunately, she did and she got up, holding up her hand as you put your hands over your head. "No, I'm sorry!"

Caitlin laughed at your antics, her laughter infectious as she waved off your dramatic apology. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Y/N," she teased, giving you a playful shove before turning back to the team. "But seriously, let's focus up. We've got a game to win, and I don't plan on losing to those guys."

"Yeah, me neither." She helped you get up from the floor as you walked to the bench. "Thanks, Cait," you said with a grin, falling into step beside her as you made your way to the bench.

As you settled onto the bench, you took a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the game ahead. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, the echoing noise of the crowd, and the anticipation building in the air all served to fuel your determination.

You rose to your feet, eyes fixed on the court ahead. With a quick glance at the UConn's lineup, you immediately spotted Paige among their starting players. Your heart rate quickened slightly as you realized the task at hand — you needed to guard Paige and shut down her scoring opportunities.

In any other situation, it would be easy. Even if the person you were guarding was someone you were friends with, you always made sure to stay professional but this was slightly different. Paige had been the theoretical shoulder you'd been crying on for the last year about your injury that you'd just healed from.

As you stepped onto the court, Caitlin's words from earlier echoed in your mind. You couldn't afford to let Paige get the better of you, not today. You made your way toward Paige and as she met your eyes, she gave you a small smile. You could still talk to her, right? She held out her hand for a quick dap-up and you accepted it gratefully.

"Bro, me and Nika were just talking about how your hair is probably gonna be perfect. You have the best game day hair," Paige spoke finally as you laughed nervously, your gaze momentarily averting to the floor then back to her.

You felt yourself blush under her gaze as you playfully brushed off the compliment. "Oh, you think so, huh?" you smiled, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well, what can I say? Gotta look good for the cameras,"

Paige smirked in response. "Oh, trust me, you always do," she teased, her words laced with a playful flirtation that made your heart skip a beat.

You looked into Paige's eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that washed over you. There was something about her presence, her easy smile, that made you feel at ease, even in the midst of a game.

"Says you, with your cute braids. You gotta teach me how to do those one day, you know." You playfully nudged Paige's shoulder, a smile spreading across your face."Now you're just showing off," you teased, your tone light and playful as you admired the braids that framed Paige's face.

Paige chuckled, a soft sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Or I can just do them for you once you actually visit Connecticut, like you promised."

You just realized that you were mic'd up, as you glanced down at the mic. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Alright, alright, you've got yourself a deal," you replied with a playful wink.

You then felt Kate's hand tap on your shoulder, motioning for you to come to the bench with her. Paige gave you a small smile as she did the same, your heart fluttering at the sight of her smile. With one last glance at Paige, filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you followed Kate to the bench.

"Are you gonna lock in, Y/N?" Caitlin's voice rang out as you glanced up at the tall brunette. You saw the slight smirk on her lips as she gazed at you, teasing you without saying anything. She was practically screaming "you're whipped!" as she did.

"Yeah, I'm locked in," you responded as you averted your gaze, laughter echoing in between your teammates as a blush covered your cheeks.

"You know, cus if you're not, I can guard Paige while you go shoot-"

"Oh shut up, Caitlin I hate you." You groaned, causing her to laugh along with the rest of the team. Caitlin's teasing banter was a familiar part of the pre-game ritual, and despite your protest, you couldn't help but smile at her antics.

"Hey, just looking out for you, Y/N," she teased, her tone lighthearted as she flashed you a grin.

As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, you shook off any lingering distractions and locked into the moment. This was it the moment you had been waiting for. With a deep breath, you blocked out the noise of the crowd and zeroed in on the game plan.

At one point, as you and Paige push for position under the basket, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Paige jokingly accused you of stealing her post moves. "Hey, imitation is a form of flattery, right?" you quipped, earning a playful shove from Paige in response.

But perhaps the most memorable moment came when you and Paige found yourselves face-to-face during a heated confrontation for the ball. With the game hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but exchange a playful smirk with Paige, feeling a slight warmth on your cheeks.

Iowa had ultimately won the game but there was no bad blood between the two teams (thankfully), players from both teams exchanged handshakes and congratulatory words, acknowledging the hard-fought battle that had unfolded on the court.

Sure, some of the players were a little hurt but it wasn't like it was the end of the world. However, you knew at some point the two teams would have to play against each other during play-offs but you didn't let yourself get too worried right now. Right now, it was important to savor the moment, to celebrate the hard-fought victory with your teammates and bask in the camaraderie of the game.

──

"You looked good," Paige spoke as she leaned against the wall of the bar. Some of the girls on the team wanted to go out and celebrate and the UConn girls wanted to join. And that was how you found yourself standing next to Paige, a little tipsy as you leaned against the wall beside her, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks at her compliment.

"Thanks, you too," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You felt yourself shy away from her gaze, a stark contrast to how you usually were ─ teasing and outgoing.

Paige noticed that quickly, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she took a tip of her drink. "Aw, look at you, all flustered," she teased, her tone light and teasing as she nudged your shoulder gently.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you replied, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Gotta stay humble, right?"

Paige laughed, the sound sweet and infectious as she leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, I think you can handle it," she said with a smirk, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

She gazed at you for a little longer as you looked away, only for her to grab your chin and hold it so that you kept looking at her. With a soft chuckle, Paige leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You're cute when you're flustered,"

"I never thought that you could be shy, you know... with all that shit-talking on and off the court." Paige remarked as she let go of your chin, her gaze still heavy on you. "It's kinda giving me an ego boost,"

"Oh shut up," you mumbled as you took a sip from your own drink, Paige's gaze following your lips. There was something about the way she looked at you, the way her eyes seemed to linger on your lips, that made your heart race.

As you lowered your drink, you met Paige's gaze once more, a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied with a smirk.

Paige chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I know," she teased, her voice low and teasing as she leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in her eye.

She wasn't usually ever this cocky, sure she's had her moments but never to this extent ─ she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just you. There was something about her self-assured demeanor that was both enticing and captivating, drawing you in with each exchanged word and shared laugh.

"Well, aren't you just full of yourself tonight?" you teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer to her.

"Can you blame me?" Paige replied with a grin, her confidence unwavering as she met your gaze. "I mean, if you had a pretty girl getting flustered over every word you say, even after her beat team yours, you'd be feeling pretty confident too," she continued, her playful tone tinged with a hint of desire as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath grazing your skin.

"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing as you leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in your eye. "But just remember, I'm not one to stay flustered for long."

With a playful smile, she leaned in closer to you. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to enjoy a challenge."

Her eyes kept flickering down to your lips as she downed her drink, putting it down on the table next to you. She leaned in closer, as if to test the water, grazing her lips against yours as your breath hitched.

She took your reaction as a yes, her hands finding your hips as she pushed you against the wall. She pushed her lips into yours in a hurried kiss, the intensity of her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as you pulled her closer, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the moment. With a sense of urgency, Paige deepened the kiss, her hands exploring the contours of your body with hunger.

The taste of her lips was intoxicating, a heady mix of alcohol and longing that left you breathless. You forgot all about your teammates and who might see this and recognize the two of you, because neither of you really cared anymore.

Jada drank her water as she kept skimming through the comments of the live, reading them and chuckling at every remark toward you and Paige. Kate was behind her, momentarily blocking from everyone seeing what you two were currently up to.

Kate heard someone call her name as she quickly got up from her spot, turning to respond to the voice. As she moved away, the brief obstruction she provided from prying eyes was gone, leaving you and Paige momentarily exposed.

As Jada's gaze flickered to the screen, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. "Oh shit- I mean, shoot." She quickly moved her phone as she glanced at the sight, giving the camera a shocked look as she thought about what she should do.

She had basically just outed the two of you but to be completely fair, it was on you two for making out in a very public bar. "Guys, don't worry that wasn't Paige that was just some other blonde. Sorry guys, you know how Y/N has a thing for blondes."

She sighed as she locked eyes with Kate, who gave her a shocked expression as she looked down at her phone. Kate gave her a look before Jada looked down at her phone, laughing as she waved.

"Looks like we are gonna have to end the live, sorry guys. Love you, bye, mwah mwah."

Paige finally broke the kiss, leaving the both of you to catch your breath. She smiled as her finger swiped your bottom lip, tracing the outline of it gently. You couldn't help but catch your breath, the taste of her lingering on your lips like a sweet memory.

"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips again.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#uconn #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #ncaaw #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #wcbb

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sluttywonwoo · 7 months

Text

oct 3rd

bang chan x f!reader

smut mdni; unprotected sex, lil bit of degradation/dumbification

“ready for bed, rockstar?”

chris laughs, shaking his wet curls out with the same towel he’d used to dry his body after showering.

“not quite,” he calls from the bathroom as he hangs the the towel up.

you wrack your brain, going through the steps of his nighttime routine in your head. “what’s left to do?”

he smirks. “you.”

you roll your eyes but giggle as he leaps onto the bed and smothers you with his body weight, not even putting up a fight when he starts yanking at the covers to get the blankets off you.

“i don’t even know why i bother with pajamas,” you complain, again not stopping your boyfriend from unbuttoning the top of your matching set. “i always end up naked anyway.”

“i know,” chris hums. “you should be more like me.”

“yeah? showing myself off shirtless to the whole world all the time?”

he pouts. “that’s not what i meant.”

“i know, i know. but you’re lucky i’m good at sharing, by the way. the amount of pictures of your tits that pop up on my social media feeds would make a lot of girlfriends upset.”

“you know the algorithm curates said feeds based on what you’re interested in, so you’re really just telling on yourself,” chris mumbles, slipping your shorts off along with your underwear.

“who wouldn’t be into your tits? i’m not ashamed!”

“well, they’re all yours, baby.”

“tell that to stays,” you mutter.

he chuckles and strokes your face fondly before pushing his thumb into your mouth to get you to suck on it. “they can look but only you can touch.”

you release his thumb from between your lips with a smug grin.

“lucky me.”

the aforementioned smug grin falters when your boyfriend brings his hand down and starts using that same thumb to rub your clit.

“fuck, chris,” you moan, fingers curling around his wrist.

“god, you’re soaked already… what’s this about?”

“seeing you on stage tonight,” you choke out, “you know what you did.”

“ah, did you like my solo stage, baby?” he taunts.

“fuck you.”

“yeah, i thought you would. didn’t know you’d like it this much though.”

he speeds up and you arch your back, pushing your hips into his touch. he kisses you as he works you to the edge, trying to swallow your moans so you don’t get another noise complaint. chris tries to think about who you’re sharing a wall with tonight. he knows it’s one of the boys because he was the one given all of the room keys to hand out to the members when they checked in but he couldn’t remember which one was supposed to be right next door. was it seungmin? lino? whoever it is, he hopes they're already asleep.

“what is it, baby? are you close?”

you start to nod but then shake your head. “want you,” you whine.

“you have me,” he whispers.

"want you to fuck me," you clarify.

"oh really?"

you tug at his arm, motioning for him to get on top of you. he obliges and you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him even closer. it works but he doesn't slide inside of you just yet. instead, he teases you with it, moving his hips like he would if he were fucking you.

“need me to stretch you out first?” he asks.

“nah, you have to get up early in the morning we should make this quick.”

“how romantic,” he scoffs.

“you felt how wet i was! i don’t need anything else. just your cock.”

he sighs, hanging his head. "fine."

"don't be so dramatic," you murmur. "if you're that torn up about it you can wake me up with your fingers. or use them to push your cum back inside of me after you fuck me."

chris buries his head in your shoulder, whimpering out a quiet "fuck" against your neck as his cock twitches between your legs.

"i love you," he moans.

"i know," you reply. "i love you too."

chan finally pushes into you, just the head at first, but it's enough to get you to moan.

"shh, baby. don't want the neighbors to hear."

you nod in understanding, biting your bottom lip. "sorry."

"s'okay. i know it feels good."

"feels so good, channie," you agree.

he lifts an eyebrow. "channie already? wow, baby, you're even further gone than i thought."

"c-can't help it."

"i know. only takes an inch of cock to turn you into my soft girl, huh?"

"mhm."

"what'll happen if i give you more? are you sure you'll be able to take it?"

you tighten your thighs around chan's hips, trying to force him deeper inside of you. he's much stronger than you, though, and easily resists your efforts.

"i can take it!"

"you sure?"

"yes, i'll be good! i'll be so good!"

"i know you'll be good," chris chuckles. "you're always- almost always good for me. i'm just worried any more of my cock will make you completely brainless."

"so? when has that ever stopped you before?"

"good point."

"please, chris," you beg, tears gathering on your lash line.

"it's back to chris? what happened to channie?"

"i'll call you whatever you want if you fuck me," you promise, moving on from begging to bargaining.

"i don't care what you call me-"

"oh, hyun-"

"except my friends' names," he mutters, scoffing in disbelief. "that desperate you're resorting to brattiness now? i should just pull out and-"

"no, please! i'm sorry!"

"i'm sure you are."

you want to point out that you know he loves it when you're a little bratty, that he gets off on it, but you also know that it won't help your case.

"i'll make it up to you," you say instead.

"yeah? how?"

"you'll find out."

"is it by making me cum?"

you purse your lips. "maybe?"

he rolls his eyes. "fine, but i bet i'll make you cum first."

you offer him your hand and shake on it despite not discussing any terms or stakes.

"you're on."

#hbd channie #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #bangchan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #christopher bang smut #chris bang smut

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the-modern-typewriter · 6 months

Note

hey I'm so sorry if this is is an unwanted request, but I wanted to ask for a hero x villain story where the villain kidnaps? And tattoos the hero. I think it would be very fun and dramatic. A very permanent and painful reminder.

I really love your work, I've read pieces of your writing for years. Keep doing what you're doing <3

"Hold still, or it's going to be wobbly," the villain said. "Nobody wants a wobbly tattoo, do they? That's just lame."

The hero snarled at them, wordless, unable to do much more with the bit wedged in their mouth. It was, according to the villain, to stop the hero from biting through their own tongue. So, that was nice and reassuring.

They could struggle, but not enough to stop what was going to happen. The grip the villain's various lackeys had on them was too firm and unforgiving. Still - the presence of hands, instead of cold metal, tried to trick some part of their lizard brain into thinking they had a real chance of escape if they just tried hard enough.

They didn't. They knew they didn't. But they struggled all the same, eyes flashing, breath ragged. They'd been forced onto their back on something that looked a little like a dentist's chair, head pinned sideways to face the villain. They only had vague impressions of the rest of the room. Bright light.

The villain had pulled up a chair next to them with their kit.

"So," the villain said, in an affable sort of voice. "It's going to hurt a little, like we talked about. That's mainly because of the location." They began their work, carefully, and the hero squeezed their eyes shut. A whimper escaped them. It was not a little. "Ribs don't have a lot of fat, you see, and you're quite sensitive anyway. But you said that's where you'd get one, so, far be it from me to dictate."

The hero had said hypothetically they would get a tattoo on their ribs. Because it looked cool. They hadn't done any research and they certainly hadn't been serious about it. It had merely been idle conversation with someone they'd thought was their friend.

They'd also said that they would get a jellyfish, or maybe a small bird.

The hero tried to see what the hell the villain was doing, but they couldn't get a good look beyond the distressingly elegant curve of the villain's head.

"I figured you'd want to be conscious, though." The villain laughed, softly. "I wouldn't want to wake up and find out someone had just done something to me, you know? Makes it hard to process it. Freaky."

The hero swore at them. They liked to think the sentiment got through, even if it was just raw sound. Choked.

"You'll look so gorgeous when you're done, though," the villain said. "Don't worry. I'm a professional. I've done this loads of times before."

The hero knew that. That was the problem.

The villain's super-abilities were unusual enough that it had taken the hero far too long to realise that the villain had any, and that they were in fact a monstrosity rather than simply the sexy artist that the hero had met in a bar. Whatever the villain painted, wrote, inked or drew was woven through with their power. It could come alive. It could influence. It could harm or heal that specific area at the villain's whim.

It could, in short, do all manner of things that the hero did not want permanently etched into their skin.

Everyone close to the villain had a tattoo. It didn't bode well.

"Just breathe," the villain said. "You're doing so well. It will be easier on you if you relax."

The hero swore at them again. It didn't make them feel better.

The villain worked on them for what felt like hours. If it was a jellyfish, it was a truly massive jellyfish that curved all the way up their side. The hero still hadn't got a good look. At some point, they'd stopped writhing in the chair, exhausted.

They felt dazed when the villain finally lifted their head, meeting their eyes again. The villain brushed a tear away from the hero's cheek. It reminded the hero to jolt again, but the hands on them remained as relentless as ever.

Another small, involuntary sound left them.

Their skin felt hot. Sunburnt.

"All done," the villain said. They finally eased the bit out of the hero's mouth. "You should have some water. Are you going to drink it nicely?"

"What the hell did you do to me?" the hero demanded. Their voice was raspy.

"It's gorgeous. You'll love it. Water?"

"I don't want anything from you!"

"Good skin is important to good tattoos. But, hey." The villain shrugged. "I can't make you." They gestured for their lackeys to release the hero.

The hero surged up in an instant, fist already flying towards the villain's face. In an instant, their body froze, knuckles inches from the villain's face. It didn't matter how much they strained. They couldn't move.

The villain raised an eyebrow. "You'll want to make sure to keep it clean, to avoid any infection," the villain said. "And don't pick at it, okay? Stay out of the sun. No swimming."

"What did you do to me!?" It came out through gritted teeth.

The villain smirked at them. "I gave you a jellyfish. On the house. You're welcome."

The hero glared.

"That's what you wanted, right?" the villain asked.

"I didn't want this."

The villain shrugged. "I did, though. For the moment I saw you with your clothes off"

"You-" Words didn't feel enough to express the emotion that coursed through the hero at that. "I hate you."

"Yes, I get that quite a lot. I don't generally let it bother me. You do all look so pretty fuming, helpless, at my mercy."

The hero swallowed.

The villain waved a hand, and whatever strange paralysis had overtaken the hero, vanished. They staggered forward, nearly pitching into the villain's lap. The villain caught them to steady them, hands on their waist.

It should have been excruciating, to have the villain's hand on the tattoo, but instead there was a buzz of pleasure across the hero's skin that definitely wasn't normal. They wrenched back as quickly as possible, heart pounding.

Their fists curled, itching with the urge the punch again, but they didn't quite dare get close.

The villain beamed at them, eyes glittering with mirth, apparently knowing exactly what the hero was thinking.

"Now," they said. "Do you want a lift home? Or do you prefer to take a moment to recover here?"

"You're sick."

"I'm up and coming, darling. One day you'll thank me for it."

The hero peeled the bandage off the moment they were at home, alone, to try and get a good look at their new acquisition.

It was a jellyfish, just as the villain had said, inked in full colour and in exquisite detail and artistry. It seeped blue and purple into the hero's skin, with the smallest tinges of shimmering pink. The villain's initials were weaved into the jellyfish's umbrella, subtle to someone not looking for them. Small but there.

The hero didn't remember hitting the bathroom floor, only the dull feeling of their knees giving way beneath them as it all well and truly sunk in.

They could feel it against them. It was almost as if the tentacles were moving, gently, caressing their ribs. As if the villain's fingers were there, a ghost of a blazing touch.

They got a horrific amount of compliments about the damn thing.

#take the 'x' with a pinch of salt here #heroes #villains #villains and heroes #heroes and villains #writing #story #ficlet #whump #whump writing

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damazcuz · 2 years

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One more question(for now) why do people on tumblr use tags to talk #like this #about whatever they think of the post, instead of just commenting on the reblog😭 Is there an etiquette I'm missing?

short answer: yes.

long answer, there is an etiquette to it, and I think it's a longstanding thing that just ended up ingrained in a lot of users, which comes off as cold/shy/outlandish or maybe even standoffish to people from other sites and apps. there's no be-all end-all of how to act online or on here but i think in terms of most* people (*speaking broadly, making this up) who've used tumblr for a while it feels like this:

tumblr is a theater, the dashboard is a stage, each post is a performance. (a joke, a dramatic act, a story, a movie, a picture, etc.) you have a variety of ways to interact with the performance, but some of them are going to be more frowned upon--based purely on how the long standing visitors of the theater are used to acting, honestly.

likes are a polite applause, but they don't show anyone outside of the theater that you enjoyed yourself, or what you enjoyed. the performer appreciates the applause but does not garner any new viewers when you only like a post, btw.

silent reblogs mean you exit the theater with merch or a leaflet and go show it to other people. look what i saw on the stage, don't you want to see it too. this shows the performance to a new variety of viewers, who might then also show it to others.

replies and reblogs with content are often seen as """"rude"""" because they're like standing up at the end of the performance and loudly saying "that was okay but I think MY take on things makes it just a BIT better." people are more forgiving of this when it's something universally true or acceptable, or when it's very funny. if it's not (and even if it is, sometimes,) there'll potentially be a reblog down the line making fun of it (and this is another person in the theater standing up and making a fart noise, regardless of how tasteless or rude.) it's never actually "wrong" to add comments on a reblog unless you're being intentionally hurtful, and it's normal to add commentary to a friend's post, but even then, people seeing this from the outside may see that as obnoxious and impolite and try to call you on it anyway. (people are very weird about enforcing what they see as a universal rule of etiquette, when this is admittedly the only site where you'll be punished for adding to the discussion.)

and again, this is an absolutely arbitrary rule because what one person finds universally true and hilarious, another will find trite and stupid and too niche. the polite thing to do in the case of the latter is just reblog from further up the chain than the commenter, but people aren't always nice when they're annoyed.

getting to your actual question now, comments in the tags are a way to leave remarks that you DON'T want to shout to the whole theater. these are you whispering to yourself or your friend, or writing in a guestbook on the way out. people can see/hear it if they go looking for it, but you're not shouting over the performance to get your piece out. it's polite because it's unobstructive and doesn't take up space, and if your tags don't make sense to someone else or seem too niche, they don't have to share the post with your commentary attached.

adjacent to this, "peer review" or screenshotting someone's tags to insert them in the post is like if you did whisper to your friend, then your friend wrote your comments on a whiteboard and held it up for others to see. as this is a form of commentary within the reblog, it's again subject to an arbitrary universal/niche rule. just because a tag gets peer reviewed doesn't mean it's beyond reproach by strangers.

also in line with this general line of thought experiment, blazing a post means that between acts, you run up on the stage and start shouting your piece. it is, once again, going to be more acceptable to strangers to see you do this if it's something universally funny, true, or cute. this is why niche fandom posts, vent posts, and self promotions get ignored or booed down, while pet birthday photos and silly jokes get blazed and get a lot of notes regardless.

lastly, a kungpowpenis is when twelve+ individuals from the audience get up and beat the shit out of the person performing on stage and leave their corpse on display in the town square.

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books-and-omens · 10 months

Text

Rather a big thing, by the way, that many of us are probably re-evaluating right now is Crowley consistently not wanting to be called kind or nice. Especially not by Aziraphale.

In S1, that was what triggered the wall slam. ‘Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me’—but in S2 we see more about how strong Crowley’s feelings are on the topic.

In the Job minisode, Crowley vehemently insists that he is a demon. He is so angry at God. When Aziraphale tells him that he is certain Crowley does not want to destroy Job’s children, Crowley takes his glasses off to expose full-demon irises and looks Aziraphale in the eye as requested and says, “I want to”.

Aziraphale is heartbroken over that. His shoulders slump, he exhales shakily, his faith in Crowley has indeed cracked. Look at him:

And then, of course, he figures out the trick, and it turns out that he is exactly right about Crowley. “Well,” he says, and looks vindicated, triumphant, amused.

He was right. He knew Crowley would resist atrocity with everything he has. He knew Crowley would understand it’s an atrocity in a way Gabriel and Michael did not seem to (and neither did those two care). What Aziraphale sees is that, for all of Crowley’s demonic posturing, Crowley came through.

(He remembers the angel that Crowley used to be. So joyful. So happy. So unlike Gabriel and Michael, too: the angel Crowley would never have gone along with killing Job’s children.)

At the end of this minisode, Aziraphale is ready to go to Hell. He thinks he must: he lied, he thwarted the will of God. Crowley, of course, tells him that he is simply an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.

Aziraphale will process this in some way later, but… he won’t process it in the same way as Crowley. Aziraphale won’t reject the idea of Heavenly goodness—Heaven is supposed to be good, that’s the whole point—but he will take note of how, time and time again, Crowley exemplifies this idea when the actual Heavenly angels do not.

Across history, Aziraphale sees Crowley do things that are good. And then disclaim them, reject them, call them something else. A demon could get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing, Crowley had warned him a long time ago.

Aziraphale will remember this.

Don’t say thank you, Crowley hisses in the Bastille. My lot do not send rude notes.

And the Victorian minisode?

Off my head on laudanum, not responsible for my actions, Crowley tells Aziraphale vehemently after saving Elspeth from suicide. (In Christianity, certainly in the 19th century, suicide condemns a soul; one who died by suicide does not even get a Christian burial. So Crowley has actively diverted a soul from Hell by drinking the laudanum.)

And—look at how indulgently Aziraphale is looking at Crowley as Crowley insists he is not responsible for his actions.

Of course you aren’t, my dear, he seems to think. We both know you did it on purpose, to have a plausible excuse for Hell. But of course we both know that you are in fact responsible for your actions, and that, at great personal risk and cost, you have once again chosen to do good.

So by the end, from Aziraphale’s point of view, Crowley has a much better idea of Good than Heaven itself. And—oh joy!—in the finale, Metatron, the voice of God, finally acknowledges that fact and validates it. Your demon recognized me when nobody else did, Metatron essentially says.

(I just cannot with the ominous dramatic music that plays as Metatron leads Aziraphale out of the shop. Get the FUCK OUT David Arnold, this is so pointed and disturbing. In this season and in the last, the music is narration, it tells us so much without a single word.)

Anyway! Yes! In the finale, Aziraphale is being manipulated, and part of why it works is that he still does not understand Crowley’s motives in insisting he is not nice or good. He has been interpreting Crowley’s insistence solely as protective, which makes a lot of sense from what he has seen. A demon doing good deeds must hide to avoid punishment and pain. Crowley has hid for six thousand years, has gotten used to hiding. Sure, the last four years were different, but even in these years the danger hasn’t gone away, and six thousand years is a long time to set a pattern.

Aziraphale wants to see Crowley happy. He wants to see him—both of them—safe. And here, finally, is an official Metatron-offered way. Heaven is finally admitting and working on its mistakes. Surely Crowley will forgive them? Surely Crowley and Aziraphale can make Heaven better, together? Make into what it should be? (And they would be safe, they would be safe, they would be safe.)

They still haven’t talked. Aziraphale still does not understand Crowley’s choices. In the past, it might have been too dangerous for Aziraphale to know exactly why Crowley Fell, while for Crowley, it might have been too vulnerable a thing to discuss. So they haven’t talked, and Aziraphale does not know the exact questions Crowley had asked, does not know the exact reasons. He assumes.

And his assumptions, oh so well-meant, are going to be catastrophic.

#good omens season 2 #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens

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qtkoshi · 11 months

Note

Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol

i luv ur brain anon

"you got....a kitten?"

- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-) - also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...) - also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all

──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars ！

general headcannons

alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears.

i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.

NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU

this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn

hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)

how u got him

imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and

now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!

bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.

'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'

man can't even argue with you

hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent

u can tho.

and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)

spider-squad finding out ab him

the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ?????

pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie

'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope

i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn

hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud

you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine

everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ )

“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”

luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk

speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.

anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute

says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)

you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’

promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”

cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s

more gen headcannons

remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise

hobie loves to play fight with the cat

spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win

i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️

⊗

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderpunk #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse x reader #spiderpunk x reader #hobart brown x reader #hobie۫ ִ✮#this was so cute hehe #thank you anon #!!!!!

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crayons-and-glitter-glue · 1 year

Text

I think about Sun and Moon's original versions a LOT, and I don't get why people say they're not expressive!

Or perhaps, I do, and I just wanna ramble. Anyways! Big ol warning for lots of talking, some fursuit gifs and analyzation of body movement.

So, they have flat, immobile faceplates, right? Technically, yes!some argue that this makes them immediately inert and expressionless and opt to enhance their expressions. And this is a-okay! Do what you like!

But as someone who used to be a costumer, and wears a fursuit on occasion,

(Sorry, I love this gif so much)

BUT! When in a mascot costume, fursuit, or any other costume with a mask over one's face, the performer has to learn how to move in order to portray the emotions necessary for character engagement with the audience! Whether it's exaggerated head bobs, using your hands to talk, or making everything a bit of a spectacle, even the way you tilt your FACE can affect how you look.

Even MUPPETS do this with their limited range of expression. And we can easily draw those conclusions of how the boys were programmed to act in canon!

Take Sun's default animation in the daycare, just standing there.

It's very obvious here what he's trying to portray, and who his programmed audience is- little children! When costuming around little kids, you wanna use big gestures, and get on their level because you can seem HUGE AND SCARY to them! You wanna get down towards the ground, make big sweeping cartoon motions, and make sure all your movements are ROUNDED- not jabbing, sharp, or sudden- so that the kid isn't ever surprised, but rather delighted by your performance as a costumer. I'll show you an example by the amazing performer, Temba the Bat! (Made by Toxicoon, I believe.)

Big sweeping motions, slow without being too spooky, and generally friendly motions while swaying the head! Looks kinda similar right?

Another point is, though, these exaggerated motions don't really... turn off when feeling other things. Sun and Moon don't have a customer service mode, and that's WILD to me that their programming requires them to act like this all the time. Exhibit B: Sun's pain in the transformation scene.

He's making such exaggerated motions and movements to INDICATE he is in pain or holding something back. He's gripping his face like something is trying to come out of it, and even dramatically falls backwards to indicate a loss of control in his body. Whether the way the fall looks so cartoonist was intentionally programmed in, I couldn't tell you.

And then... there's Moon.

This is SO cartoon villain sequel, isn't it? The hands tapping delicately on the surface, the exaggerated head tilt, all of it is so wildly exaggerated in such a smooth way to let you know "Ah! I'm in danger! Great!"

And yet... he still is low to the ground. Still in that pose of going after someone SMALL. Performing for someone small. His evilness is almost completely exaggerated and, dare I say, fabricated by his programming. Of course, the virus probably had something to do with it but LIKE! Look at that range of motion!

Idk what the point of all this is, I just wanna say: it's totally understandable to make the boys super duper expressive in the artistic, flat 2d styles i see a lot!

But man I do hope someone draws them biblically accurate while expressing something else because that would be hilarious to see Sun throwing a temper tantrum by banging his fists on the ground and flailing while his face is just

#daycare attendants #dca fandom

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spaceshipellie · 10 months

Text

we were never just friends

ellie williams x reader

part two (part one, part three, part four)

summary: modern!ellie, both in their mid twenties. ellie and reader have been friends for years, their friendship has always been somewhat flirty but nothing has ever happened. not yet anyway…

warnings: smut at the end (18+ mdni), reader cheating on her gf with ellie, fingering (r receiving), oral (e receiving), fluff (e+r), angst (r+gf)

author’s note: i was screaming and kicking my feet writing this it was too much hsjxkdndbfx i hope you enjoy ♡

word count: 5k approx

you could hear a banging. your head was smushed into the pillows and you were still half asleep. it took you a minute to come to and realise that the banging was knocking on your bedroom door. you groaned a sleepy “come in.”

ellie pushed the door open with two coffees in hand and came to sit on the end of your bed.

“morning.”

you mumbled a “morning” back as you rubbed your eyes and slowly sat up. you felt the duvet slip down and quickly remembered you went to bed only wearing panties last night.

“fuck,” your eyes widened and your hand slapped down on your chest to hold the covers in place, an embarrassed blush crept onto your cheeks.

“sorry, i didn’t see anything,” ellie laughed, handing you a coffee and chucking you a hoodie that was lying on the floor next to her feet.

“thanks,” you hugged the hot cup after pulling the hoodie on. you felt pretty hungover and dreaded to think what you looked like.

“why are you so chirpy this morning?”

“i’m not as much of a lightweight as you,” ellie smirked. you playfully rolled your eyes at her before checking your phone.

kate 🩵

8:39am

morning babe, how was your night? xx

you

9:02am

really fun thanks, did you wanna look at california plans today? xx

kate🩵

9:03am

aw good. yes, i can come over later xx

you

9:03am

come over whenever xx

you locked your phone and looked up to see ellie looking at you. she quickly averted her gaze to her hands holding the mug and started fidgeting with her silver rings. your eyes darted down to look at them too.

“what’re you doing today?”

“kate’s coming over later, we’re gonna look at booking a beach holiday in california somewhere,” you smiled, excited at the idea of lounging on a warm beach day in, day out.

“oh, nice. first holiday together?”

“yeah, pretty exciting.”

“yeah, very,” ellie half smiled, still playing with her rings. “how is she anyway? i haven’t seen her in ages.”

“she’s good, she works a lot so that’s probably why, but yeah good.”

there was a small pause before you spoke again.

“what about you? you been seeing anyone lately?”

her eyes snapped up to yours, smirking. “no, you’d know if i was.”

“i don’t know, you might have some secret double life i don’t know about.”

“actually yeah, it’s probably about time i told you,” she dramatically took in a breath, “i’ve been in a secret relationship with hayley williams for the past 6 years.”

“oh?”

“we’re actually married. that’s why we have the same last name.”

“i’m offended you didn’t invite me to the wedding.”

“it had to be private for…” she laughed and stammered, “top secret…security reasons?”

“too bad, i wish i was there to object.”

she leaned her body forward a bit. “what? for me?”

“no, for hayley williams you idiot.”

“right, right. makes sense,” her voice trailed off before she finally said, “ok, i better go. the band were really good last night.”

“yeah they were great! hopefully they’ll be there again,” you smiled up at her as she stood up to leave.

˚ · • . ° .

it was later in the day and you were sat on the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table whilst kate sat next to you with her laptop open, browsing places to stay.

“ooh look at this one,” she said, turning her laptop towards you.

“oh my god it’s so beautiful, but probably too expensive for me.”

“well, we want to go somewhere nice though.”

“i know, of course, but something like this is just a bit too much out of my budget,” you said, feeling a bit embarrassed.

you knew kate made more money that you and was naturally more money orientated. of course, you were ambitious and cared about that sort of thing too, but you were more of a ‘rather be poor and happy than rich and sad’ person. kate on the other hand, was the opposite. you heard her sigh next to you and move her laptop back to keep scrolling.

“what?”

“nothing.”

“tell me,” you pried.

“it’s.. ah, it’s just that when i first brought up going to california you were so excited and now we’re actually looking at booking it, you keep saying no to things.”

you were a bit taken back. you didn’t think you were being negative about anything, you just genuinely couldn’t afford any of the options kate put in front of you. they were amazing but to put it bluntly, expensive as fuck. besides, anytime you put forward a suggestion, she found something wrong with it. it’s too far from town (meaning it was a 15 minute walk instead of 5), the beach looks boring, there’s not enough restaurants. you didn’t want to say anything, but it was starting to piss you off.

“i am excited. it’s just,” you sighed, “i just thought it mattered more that we had fun together, not having the fanciest hotel or whatever.”

“we’ll have fun, but i don’t want to go and stay in some shitty place.”

“i never said we should? we can still find a nice place.”

“then why do you keep saying no?”

“because i don’t have a bottomless pit of money?”

both your tones had shifted to annoyance. your body language had become more rigid and your brows were slightly furrowed.

“ok whatever,” kate sighed again, going back to her laptop, turning the screen as if she didn’t care if you could see it or not.

“no, sorry, why are you being weird with me?”

“i’m not being weird.”

you almost wanted to laugh.

“but, you are? you get mad at me for not having enough money and then just say ‘whatever,’ how does that help anything?”

she shut her laptop and turned to you.

“i don’t know what you want me to say, but maybe you need to start taking better care of your money or something so we can do things like this.”

“sorry, are you my fucking mother or something? i’m fine with money. sure, i have to save and budget and all that but who the fuck doesn’t?”

“i’m not trying to tell you what to do i’m just saying that it’s not a bad idea to think about earning more. it’s good to be ambitious, babe, and i know what you do doesn’t earn very much.”

she tried to put a hand on your knee but you shot up to your feet, starting to feel overwhelmed by how quickly this conversation had gone downhill.

“kate, you are literally telling me what to do. am i supposed to just sack my job in and do something i don’t care about just so that i can have more money?”

she looked up at you, a perplexed expression across her face. “why wouldn’t you want to get a bigger income?”

“it’s not tha–oh my god,” you felt like you needed to pace, adrenaline taking over you. “not everybody needs to be earning the biggest wage they possibly can, ok? don’t get me wrong, money is nice, i get that and i get that it’s very important to you, but i could never sacrifice my happiness for it, that’s just not me. i love what i do and you know that so don’t start trying to make me feel like it’s not good enough for you all of a sudden.”

she was silent for a moment, processing your rant. she looked away from you and you looked at her, trying to catch her eye again, anxiously waiting for her to say something.

“i gotta go.” she started shoving her laptop in her bag and stood up.

“what?”

“i think we need to take a minute before we look at this again, ok?”

you felt stupid. and you hated the fact that this made you feel stupid.

“ok,” you mumbled.

you stood there, dumbfounded. this was supposed to be a fun thing for you both to do together and before you’d even reached step one it had gone wrong. you understood that kate was a person who liked to climb the ladder and earn as much as she could and you were happy if that’s how she wanted to live her life. however, she couldn’t seem to accept the fact that you’re not like that. you enjoyed your job and admittedly, you weren’t anything close to rich but who cares? you enjoyed your life and that’s all that matters.

instead of sitting around feeling crap about yourself you decided to call ellie. it didn’t take long for her to pick up.

“hey.”

“everything alright?”

“yeah yeah, i just, um, what are you doing?”

“you ok? you sound upset.”

“no no, i’m fine els, i just…” you felt silly that you were nearly in tears right now but you couldn’t help it.

“are you at home? want me to come over?”

“only if you’re not busy.”

“i’ll be there in 10,” she practically cut you off.

“oh, ok. see you in a bit. thank you.”

“see you in a bit.” and she hung up.

you let out a shaky breath before deciding to wash your face and freshen up before ellie got to yours, not wanting to end up sobbing in front of her. sure enough, she was at your place in 10 minutes and when you opened the door she gave you a sympathetic look and pulled you in for a hug.

“what wrong?”

“it’s stupid.” your voice was muffled by her shoulder.

“i’m sure it’s not,” she said, pulling away and dragging you to sit down. you both sat facing each other, sideways on the sofa, one leg bent and the other hanging of the edge. she looked at you, waiting for you to speak.

“kate and i got into a fight about money and it just really pissed me off.”

“what did she say?”

“she was saying i need to be better with money and that i should earn more and all this bullshit. we were trying to book a hotel and we just couldn’t agree on anything so she just decided to leave and fuck,” you groaned, “it just wound me up.”

ellie listened intently, pausing before speaking to let you finish.

“what a fucking asshole.”

“ellie!” you slapped her leg lightly, trying not to smile. she laughed.

“what? it’s true. that’s a fucked up thing to say.”

“yeah,” your voice was quiet. she ran a hand through her hair.

“i mean who the fuck cares where you stay, more important to just be together, you know?”

“that’s what i said.”

you looked at her and you were both silent for a moment, the overwhelming cloud you felt before starting to evaporate.

“so, what are you gonna do?”

“i don’t know,” you sighed, “we’ll still do it, it was just a stupid fight but i guess we’ll have to compromise.”

ellie just nodded, puffing out her cheeks slightly.

“i hope i didn’t drag you away from anything.”

“aw no,” she waved her hand in dismissal, “was just at jesse’s.”

“no, ellie, i said don’t bother if you’re busy!”

“it’s fine, honestly. he understands and i didn’t want you to be upset.”

“you’re so sweet.”

“am not.”

“you so are.”

“i’m not sweet.” she hoped you couldn’t see her cheeks flushing pink. you could.

“you’re the sweetest to me.”

“ok, yeah, i mean,” she stumbled over her words, “i can be, but only for you.”

“see?” you grinned, putting your hands either side of her face and squeezing slightly. a breath got caught in her throat at you touching her. you let your hands fall down, landing on her knees.

“so,” you started, “you wanna make me feel better by letting me beat you at mario kart?”

˚ · • . ° .

two hours had passed of you and ellie sat on your floor, backs against the sofa, playing video games. kate hadn’t messaged or called. you hadn’t either, but honestly, you didn’t really know what to say. you were still a bit annoyed and wished she would apologise before you just let it slide. your mood had definitely improved though by having ellie around. you were scrolling through your phone whilst ellie was in the bathroom when a notification popped up from your groupchat with her and dina.

dina

4:47pm

bitchesss guess what

freya’s lakeside cabin is free next weekend and she’s invited you guys and kate to come with us

for free! it’ll just be food etc we need to buy

you

4:48pm

omg YES

tell freya thank you and i love her!!!

i’ll ask kate later

ellie

4:49pm

the perfect slasher movie location

sounds cool i’m in

dina

4:49pm

good! i’ll let you know more soon

ellie then emerged from the bathroom and sat back beside you. you looked at her like a kid in a sweet shop.

“how fucking cool is that!”

“i know, gonna be fun. typical that i’m fifth wheeling though,” she joked.

“oh you won’t be, dina and freya aren’t like that and me and kate are–“ you stopped yourself, “well, let’s see if she even comes.”

˚ · • . ° .

she didn’t. kate was working. which was fine, you thought. it was short notice and things were still awkward between you two. you felt terrible for it but you were kind of glad that it was just going to be the four of you. that way, considering everything recently, you knew it would be fun and stress free.

you could also do with a break from the strain of booking this california trip. in the end, you had booked a place. it was still too expensive for you really but you were getting tired of going back and forth, plus a compromise of some kind needed to be made and you were trying to be positive about it and not fuck it up further. after all, you were still looking forward to going away with your girlfriend for the first time and assumed that this dispute would soon blow over.

you lugged your bags out of the boot of freya’s car and followed everyone up to the front door of the cabin. you were surrounded by a huge lake, a dense forest and fields that spread themselves out for miles. was it the perfect location for a horror? yes it was, but you were going to have the best time here, you could tell.

“this is so fucking cool,” ellie said.

“thanks, it’s my sister’s and her husband’s technically but they let me use it a lot,” freya said.

she was a sweet girl, really kind and easy to get on with. dina had only been dating her for about 3 months but they were really cute together.

“thank you for inviting us,” you said.

“oh no problem, i’m glad you could make it.”

as freya held the door open for you all to walk through, she asked if you wanted her to give you a tour and show you where your rooms would be. thinking it was easiest to do that first you said yes.

the cabin was nothing short of stunning with its wooden beamed ceilings and open fire place. it also had a fire pit outside near the lake which you hoped you’d get to use. after being shown the bedrooms you dumped your stuff in yours. ellie’s was opposite and dina and freya were in the master bedroom a bit further down the hall. you sent kate a quick message to say you’d arrived safely and started unpacking things like your face wash and toothbrush. you didn’t bother unpacking your clothes seeing as you were only here for two nights. you heard talking downstairs so left your room to join them.

“what did you guys wanna do first?” freya asked you all.

“i really want to go swimming in the lake,” dina suggested, “if you guys are up for that.”

“yeah sounds fun.” you looked at ellie.

“yeah sure.”

you went back upstairs to change into a bikini and also grabbed a towel, some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to throw on after. joining the others downstairs, dina and freya already nearly out the door, you couldn’t help but look at ellie. she was wearing loose shorts and a sports bra style bikini top.

“you’ve got a new tattoo,” you said, touching her upper arm softly as you looked at it.

“got it a couple months ago,” she watched your face.

“you’re so secretive.”

she just laughed and shrugged, muttering “come on,” before holding the door open for you.

it was late in the afternoon and the sun was still warm but not too hot, and you still had a couple hours left of daylight.

shrieks met your ears as dina and freya jumped off the edge of the little wooden platform into the water. you put your stuff down on a chair round the fire pit, where they’d put theirs and ran excitedly to the edge.

“you jumping in?” you said, turning to ellie.

“maybe.”

“if you don’t, i’ll push you,” you teased, grabbing her shoulders. she laughed and her hands flew to yours, scrambling to grab them to prevent you from pushing her off the edge.

“don’t you fucking dare.”

“i will.”

“i know you will.” her body twisted trying to grab your wrists, fighting against you pushing. she tried to ignore how your boobs pressed into her. before you knew it, you were falling and crashing into the cool water. you came back up, flapping your arms and rubbing water out of your eyes screaming, “ellie!”

she was still standing on the edge, hand over her mouth, doubling over in laughter.

“i’m sorry!”

“no, you’re not.”

“no, i’m not.”

you could hear dina and freya laughing in the background which made you turn. a huge splash of water suddenly came over your head as ellie jumped in.

“fucking hell, are you trying to drown me?”

“yes.”

“charming.”

you could see dina and freya kissing so you made an ‘oop’ face at ellie and you both laughed. the sun was really bringing out her freckles. she’d always get weird if you ever called her pretty, but it was only the truth. she was pretty, and you’d always thought so.

the four of you swam around leisurely, talking about this and that for a while before deciding to get out. it was starting to get dark so freya turned on the outdoor fairy lights that were draped in a tree near the fire pit.

you all took turns using the downstairs shower and grabbed a couple of beers before sitting around the fire you had started.

“so, anyone got any ghost stories to tell?” dina joked.

˚ · • . ° .

you all talked for what felt like forever, laughing until your stomachs ached. the conversation now had seemed to split off though into you and ellie, whilst dina and freya giggled and blushed, dina’s legs thrown over freya’s lap.

“ok well… we’re gonna go to bed,” dina said, grabbing freya’s hand. you could see them smiling into kisses as they reached the front door.

“oh! young love,” you declared jokingly and ellie laughed.

“you wish kate was here?” she asked.

you paused, thinking.

“things are still a bit awkward between us, is it bad that i’m kind of glad she isn’t?”

you toyed nervously with the hair tie on your wrist. ellie shifted in her seat, mouth moving as if to speak but stopping herself, thinking of something better to say.

“if you’re happy then i don’t think it’s a bad thing.”

you smiled at her. her eyes bore into you and she almost looked nervous, her hands fidgeting with her rings.

“i am happy right now,” you voiced.

“good.”

there was a moment of peaceful silence between you before you suddenly jumped up and grabbed her hand. she looked up at you, waiting.

“look at the stars with me? seeing as we’re here.”

her eyes softened, a doting smile covering her face as you both laid down on the ground, staring up at the dark night sky.

“it’s beautiful,” you whispered.

“it is.”

“we should go.”

“where? to space?”

“no, to starbucks,” you quipped, “yes to space!”

she turned her head to look at you, looking at the sky. she admired the glint in your eye and the way your cheeks looked when you smiled. her voice was hushed and soft.

“i’ll take you.”

you turned your head to look at her.

“how will we get there?”

“i’ll build us a spaceship.”

“oh with your excellent handyman skills?”

“yeah,” she laughed, “with my excellent handyman skills.”

“can it have a mirrorball inside? ooh and a record player and–and a mini bar.”

she laughed at your ridiculous requests for this hypothetical spaceship.

“it can have whatever you want.”

she bit her lip. your smiles faded as you looked at each other, taking in each other’s features under the dim moonlight. maybe that one beer had hit you too hard or maybe it was just the atmosphere of being at a lakeside cabin, but you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach flipped as ellie looked at you.

“well,” your voice accidentally came out a bit shaky, “it sounds almost too good to be true.”

she propped herself up on her forearm, now looking down at you as she laid on her side.

“does it?”

you slowly nodded your head and your eyes must have darted between her eyes and her lips because she leaned in, as if to test what you would do.

you shocked yourself when you lifted your head slightly, causing your noses to graze each other. your lips then ghosted over each other for a moment, both unsure if you should keep going. your brain felt foggy and you couldn’t think about anything else but her.

then, just as you thought you must have blacked out and were dreaming, she pressed a soft kiss to your lips and your body melted into the ground. it was sweet and delicate. her hand came up to hold the side of your face and yours held onto her arm. everything felt right and your earlier statement still held it’s truth, you were so happy but—

“oh my god,” you freaked, gripping her shoulder. not to push her completely away, just enough to stop the kiss.

“what am i doing?” you brought your other hand to your lips, touching them.

“fuck, i’m sorry,” ellie sighed and she moved off of you.

“no, i’m sorry. i’m the one with–“ you quickly sat up, feeling a wave of anxious nausea.

“i’m the one with a girlfriend.”

she sat up next to you, arms resting on her bent knees.

your brain was going a million miles per hour trying to process everything. one, you had just kissed your best friend, two, you had just cheated on your girlfriend and three, you had just fucking kissed your best friend! ellie! the girl you’d been close to for years and nothing had ever happened. the girl who knew you better than anyone else, warts and all. the girl who a part of you wished was still kissing you.

“let’s just forget it happened,” she sounded defeated but she was probably right.

“yeah, yeah ok,” you agreed, trying to convince yourself that this was fine, “maybe we should just go to bed.”

she nodded and you both stood up, brushing some grass off of your ass before you both slumped towards the cabin.

“after you,” she mumbled, opening the front door. you whispered a thanks before you both ascended the stairs, trying to be quiet so you didn’t disturb dina and freya. you reached your doors, which were directly opposite each other. you looked at each other for a moment before you awkwardly poked her in the arm.

“ok then… night, ellie.”

you turned to open your door but suddenly felt a hand grip your arm. the pull forced you to spin around to face her, her other hand catching your waist and pinning your body to hers.

her hasty lips caught yours in another kiss, your hands flew to her hair and shoulders. this kiss was a far cry from the sweet one you shared outside. it was hungry and frantic.

you broke for air, foreheads pressed together, hands still holding each other close.

“let’s not think about it,” she said breathlessly. you couldn’t think anyway. you just nodded your head and pulled her into another open mouthed kiss.

she felt for your bedroom door handle behind you and pushed you into the room, immediately collapsing on the bed. the room was only illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the window. her body weight pressed into you as she deepened the kiss.

eagerly, she started unzipping your shorts making you buck your hips up. she shoved them back down with her hand forcefully and resumed pulling your shorts off. you blushed in embarrassment at how wet you already were and her finger tips fluttered at the waistband of your underwear.

“can i touch you?” she asked, her voice low.

“please.”

she wasted no time in bringing a finger down to press on your clothed clit. you moaned loudly, suddenly slapping a hand over your mouth.

“you gotta be quiet, baby.”

you frantically nodded, desperate for her to continue. she could feel the wet patch you had made and smirked to herself, pulling your underwear to the side and glided her middle finger through your slick folds.

“so fucking wet already,” she groaned. her finger collected your wetness before making slow, barely there circles on your clit.

“who is that for?” fuck you, you thought.

“y-you, ellie.”

her touch on your clit was so light it was making your body jolt at the sensitivity. your lips were parted and hers were ghosting over them, refusing any attempts you made at chasing a kiss.

she suddenly slid two fingers deep into you, restricting your moan with a hard, sloppy kiss. she moved them in and out a few times before curling them and hitting that spot over and over.

you whimpered when you felt her hand suddenly disappear but all she was doing was impatiently yanking your underwear off, muttering a “fuck” under her breath, before resuming her relentless pace.

she kissed you again to keep you quiet, as she quickly pulled her fingers out to rub circles on your clit and giving it a few taps before slipping them back inside.

your hands didn’t know what to do with themselves so with her free hand she grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it against the bed next to your head, using that along with her knees to hold herself up.

“oh fuck,” you cried.

“shh shh shh, i got you.”

your head was digging so hard into the pillow and you could feel yourself about to come. ellie could too by the way you clenched tightly around her.

“you gonna come, baby?”

you stumbled out a “yes” and lifted your head, begging for a messy kiss whilst she fucked you through your orgasm.

when you let out a soft sigh and your body relaxed, she kissed you on the forehead and slowly pulled her fingers out.

you looked up at her, feeling exhausted and in awe of the sight above you. you honestly felt drunk, even though you weren’t. she lifted her cum coated fingers up near your face and looked at them, not being able to decide whether she wanted to put them in her mouth or yours. you answered for her by taking her hand and swirling your tongue around her fingertips, before sucking them in completely.

“fuck,” her voice was quiet and husky, intoxicated by the way your pretty lips wrapped around her fingers. your eyes looking up at her at the same time nearly made her come in her boxers.

she was so mesmerised by you she didn’t even realise at first that you were sitting up, letting her fingers go with a pop, and shifting so that you were on top of her.

once her back hit the bed her hands went to your hips as you straddled her lap.

you pulled your t-shirt off, leaving you completely naked whilst she was still fully clothed. she practically gulped at the sight of your tits now on full display, a giddy smirk creeping onto her face. you trailed your hand down to the neckline of her t-shirt and tugged it. she got the message and took it off, throwing it across the room, not allowing her eyes to leave you for a second. your fingers traced over her nipple and down her stomach for a second making her flinch. you smiled to yourself and leant down to kiss her. her hands caressed your hips as you left kisses down her neck and then her stomach.

once you reached the waistband of her shorts you paused and looked up at her.

“can i?”

she nodded and you pulled her shorts and boxers down in one go, nestling yourself between her legs. you pushed her legs apart and licked a line up her cunt. she was also completely soaking, your tongue collecting the sweet taste when you started swirling it around her clit.

she grunted, gripping your hair in one hand. you worked your tongue around until she was basically shoving your head deeper into her.

“you taste so fucking good.”

she couldn’t help but grind herself against your tongue. but then you slipped a finger in and she was gone.

“oh god.” her voice was quiet and shaky.

you didn’t move your finger in and out, just curled and flicked it slowly whilst you continued assaulting her clit. soon enough she was gripping your hair tighter and coming on your tongue. she quickly pulled you up by your hair and slammed you into a kiss.

her hands grabbed your waist and she turned you both and pinned you to the bed again. she supported her weight on her forearms and looked down at you. you both stared at each other for a moment, slightly panting before you both burst out laughing.

she quickly put a finger on your lips and your hands flapped trying to cover her mouth as you both shushed each other.

she rolled off of you and laid on her back. you both slowly turned your heads to each other, again trying to stifle a laugh.

“what the fuck have we done?”

♡♡♡♡♡♡

tag list: @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @robinismywifee @gold-dustwomxn

an: sooo the hallway kiss was inspired by nick and jess in new girl… let me know what you think of this part!! 💜

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #spaceshipellie fics #best friends to lovers #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie tlou #tlou 2 #ellie williams #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams fluff #the last of us

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futureplayboibunnie · 10 months

Text

let them bleed for all I care

Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

being fuckbuddies with Miguel O’Hara wasn’t easy when you were both intensely yearning

another angsty so damn wrapped up in romance brainrot blurb piece of this man because i’m still insane. this is definitely a self serve fic but idc i’m sharing anyway. ALSO THERES A PART 2!

warnings: angsty sweet nothings and confessions, mutual INTENSE pining, sensuallll (tehehe), waking up in bed, lil fluffy

A dim glow coated your room and in turn, clutched at your heart. The rows of streetlights outside beaming against the deep dark horizon and peeping through the unsheathed window offered the perfect fuzzy gleam to make Miguel's face look even more perfect. Being twisted and disheveled in bedsheets with a man that struggled with letting anyone in would be a shocking revelation two months beforehand.

Miguel was...untrusting and cold, everyone seemed to come to that conclusion with him. He was a force of nature, something that you once thought was inhuman and unfeeling, that harsh and abrasive exterior being a tremendous cover for the lack of constructive outlets he had. At least he knew where he stood with everyone, living with himself in isolation was a form of self-preservation- and he was fine with it, but he wasn't happy with it. He had a tendency to lose himself in his rage or his panic, his body bore the brunt of it all. He would practically work his fingers to the bone in order to not talk to anyone, it was definitely a highlighted page of his own personal book of dramatic effects. You didn't want to just see the picture of himself he's painted- you wanted to fucking admire it like a lovesick fool. There were so many failed attempts to get closer to him, he was so dedicated to proving himself to be this leader that didn't need the weakness of having anyone, and that in turn only made him spiral into his own misery. Miguel tried so hard to not let you in, it was almost admirable if it wasn't so damn saddening. Every time you thought you were getting closer to him, he dismissed you and bit a clippy ‘’I'm fine. Leave.’’ It wasn't until you took advantage of the fact he doesn't have spidey senses and just swung onto his platform and just hugged him everything just went blank. Ever since then, he's called your name in the dark and contemplated on the zeal in which he would destroy those who would harm you. He had denied every single impulse he's ever had for you out of some misbegotten respect to his own personal impending doom to which he was still so attached.

Being fuck buddies had its benefits, no strings attached. You just had to tamper down your own feelings for him. It was easy enough for a while. You'd fuck, clean up and then leave in different directions. The routine changed though. You'd lay in bed a lot longer, you'd just hold each other and feel each other's skin. Neither of you would talk about it after. Miguel was lonely. He didn't like to admit it but he was. These clandestine moments with you were the only opportunity he had to breathe and let out everything inside of him.

Your head was on his chest, naked bodies tangled with each other as his arms held you steady and embraced you, your leg curled up and rested on his thighs, one hand buried in your hair and the other one resting on the dip of your waist feeling the curve of your skin. You were so warm, so soft, so good. Miguel liked it when you touched him like this, his body just constantly craved your contact.

Romance was never on the table for a man like him so obviously his body acted like it, he hadn't had the time for it until you came into his life and left your everlasting and distinctive mark. You fucked like a pornstar. Miguel's fingers stroked through your hair, breathing in the pretty scent committing it to memory. The atmosphere between you both was heavy and dense like you needed to talk about something but neither of you was committing to budge your will, you gazed at the marks on vour arms. The son of a bitch was so rough... just how you liked it, the punctures in your skin that his claws made only showcased such a thing. Your brows furrowed as you hummed at the sight of it.

‘’Too rough?’’ Miguel raised his eyebrow at your purpose, his voice gritty and not sympathetic in the slightest.

‘’No...perfect.’’ You replied under your breath, slightly saddened that this is all you'll ever be to each other. Just a fuck. The way you said it made his heart cave and a sense of confusion transferred onto his face. Is that what you thought of him? Or just the way he could fuck you. He turned his face to the side to gape at you with burning eyes, you looked so hazy and angelic, he grabbed your face in both of his hands and cradled it whilst using his thumb to smooth out the skin of your cheeks. Your eyes widened at his unexpected action of tenderness, his thumb traveled to your supple lips conveying a desperate and willing look on your face. Miguel's brows wilted sincerely and his mouth unhinged open as if he was going to say something.

“'What is it?”You murmured wantonly, a strange flame of desire burning into your chest, he has the ability to make or break you. He's always had the power to do that, you just weren't sure if he was willing to see it.

“'I've been...having bad dreams.'” Miguel's eyes diverted from yours as if he was embarrassed to say it, to admit that he was afraid. He wanted to ask something from you, he was sure it was going over the boundary of fuck buddies but he needed to ease his straining mind.

“'About?'” You implored but he just gave you a hard scowl filled with hubris. You sighed at his silence and just grabbed the hand that was on your face and kissed his palm. Miguel felt every single hair on his body stands to attention, litter of goosebumps trailed at his back at your ministrations and he felt it echo through his very soul. Both of you were going too far, breaching the terms of your agreement but you were two sad and lonely people trying to fill the void with the warmth of another person's body. “For God's sake, when will you stop being so noble?”

Miguel drank in your question and he uttered the words he knew would get him kicked out. “Can I stay tonight?”

“Miguel-“

“Please.”

Your hands raked through his hair, needy eyes searching his flitting from perfect feature to feature trying to understand if any of this was real. Did he feel what you felt for him? Or was he just too tired to go home? You didn't want to ponder the latter, you captured your lips with his gently as a confirmation. Your head rested against his chest, tracing your fingers against his skin like an odd form of tenderness. You didn't like what you were feeling: you were starting to fall in love with him.

Miguel awoke in a daze, his vision blurring into shapes and stars as the nightfall outside seeped into your room. He felt your warmth beside him and it soothed the wits about him, your steady breathing offered an equilibrium that he never had. A wave of protectiveness washed over him- his sentiments have always stayed the same when it came to you. What besides love inspires such pain and yearning?

Miguel leaned in and kissed behind your ear as you mumbled into nothing and your hands slid beneath the pillow as you stretched. Your hair fell with such ease and grace, a hazed-out mess on the bedsheets as your frame indented into the mattress, slivers of skin peeking out as you tangled and breathed. If anyone laid a finger on you it would be his undoing. He'd send them screaming back to hell, the dark thought sliced through his brain and he glanced at you to nullify it. He leaned up and sat on the edge of his side of the bed, Miguel glanced at you again to make sure you were sleeping. He clenched his jaw and a hand ran down his naked back and rested on his neck- as if he were trying to find the words to start a confession. A bubbling of words started to build up within him, he felt a need to just verbally say this out loud to you but without you actually knowing of it consciously. Miguel elbows dug into his legs as he gazed at his intertwined fingertips and let out a breath, finally finding the words he's always wanted to say to you.

“I don't know what's happening to me,” He began “I don't know why I've let it get this far. I shouldn't have given into my own selfish demands. Hell, I've done it once before and a whole fuckin’ universe collapsed...dios mio.” He raked an exasperated hand through his hair at the painful memory that was seared into his mind. “You just had to ruin everything for me, you just had to fuckin’ touch me and I was yours, now what kind of pathetic does that make me? What do I do with all this? What do I do with you?” Miguel paused to regain his self control and calm his frustrations but a sliver of sadness dropped into his chest instead.

“It's funny... You're so easy to hate. You're so easy to love. What the hell do I do with this hermosa? Just tell me what to do and I'll do it, just tell me what you want...tell me what you want from me...cause it feels like you're just taking it at this point. You're taking from me and now I'm fuckin’ broken down and hungry for you like a dog waiting for scraps hermosa. The rational part of me hates it but the other rabid part is just begging at your feet. I'm like a fuckin’ mutt for you...I'm in love with you mi vida.” Those words fit perfectly in his mouth: I'm in love with you. It tasted fucking glorious, it tasted sweet and sad at the same time, it was revolutionary. It was like those words were destined to come out of his mouth, just for you to hear. “It's ironic because you'd probably kick me in the teeth for saying such a 'formidable’ thing but I'm not blind, I can't deny what's in front of me and I don't want to keep ignoring it.’

A soft inhale of your breath ended his confession, you twisted your body to the side as your cheek was planted in the pillow facing him. You stretched out your arm onto his side of th bed as if you were reaching out for him, wanting to find his warmth. Miguel couldn't help but admire you in a trance like state while you were like this, at your most natural, at your most beautiful. He'd seen your face contorted in pleasure when he fucked into you, your body arch into his touch when his face was buried between the sweet valley of your thighs but he had never seen you look like this. Like an angel from the clouds as the white sheet barely covered you- you looked like a painting. Your long lashes were fanned out against your cheek and your lips were parted for your gentle breathing, the swell of your chest rising and falling in a synchronised rhythm. You looked perfect. He hated it.

Miguel slipped back into bed and under the sheets, finding your warmth once again. He held onto you, his palm clutching at your waist as your head eased onto his chest. His brows tensed before he kissed your temple, a thought occured to him. Every day he was with you and had you were the days he would go home and sleep soundly and didn't dream, he hadn't thought there was a correlation, now he connected the dots and the picture became all the more clearer. There was nothing he could do. He just had to suppress his needs and desires and put everything else in front of him.

Your eyes seeped in the tiredness the beginning of the morning offered, and the chirping of the birds outside of your window echoed through your ears, serving as a gentle reminder of the night before. A heavy feeling set in your chest as you turned your gaze to Miguel's broad and bare back, worry glazed over your eyes as you remembered the words he uttered last night when he thought you were asleep. You couldn't believe it...you wouldn't believe that all this time you weren't alone in your yearning. You couldn't quite grasp that you had Miguel O’Hara on his knees, begging to love you.

You wanted to take it from him so bad but a pang of guilt started eating at you. Your arms immediately embraced his frame as you nuzzled his neck and inhaled the deep cadence of the lingering notes of cologne from last night. Miguel's soft copper hair was messy and disrupted, without thinking you raked your fingers through his hair. Miguel was already awake, he felt it and he grumbled into it, melting against your blessed touch. Your other hand traced down his broad shoulders and his back, feeling his skin, tracing the pads of your fingers down his warm, golden flesh.

"Hmm." Miguel breathed raggedly at the sensation. “Morning.” you kissed his shoulder as you nuzzled your face into his neck, inhaling deeply. Miguel's eyes widened at your action, unsure as to why you were showering him with affection- it's never been like this before. You've never woken up with each other before. Miguel struggled to leave and get out of your hold and it seemed like you were doing it on purpose.

“Don't leave...”You whispered woefully in his ear, planting a kiss on the base of his neck. “Don't leave me...” Miguel was stunned and it was obvious by the way his brows furrowed, he wasn't sure if it was the fact he just woke up or if it was his half-crazed manic mind playing tricks on him.

He twisted his body to face you, his cheek buried in the pillow and the look you shared was that of pure longing, your hands went to his hair again, tracing the outlines of his face with your thumb. “I heard you...” Your sad eyes were lit by the liquid gold of the sun, Miguel would have been entranced if any other words fell out of those pretty lips of yours. He wasn't so lucky. He heard the exact thing that his very soul was dreading.

“I'm sorry you had to.” Miguel's eyes shot open and glared a hole into your face when he said it, feeling genuinely sorry for you. Instead of saying anything you moved your body and clambered onto his lap and bent down to kiss him tenderly. His calloused palms felt at your thighs and the outskirts of them, your hair fell to the side as your bodies slid over each other. Miguel was confused at what you felt, what you wanted and what you were doing- you were just so damn hard to read sometimes. You nuzzled your head into his neck and breathed him in deeply, his massive arms wrapping around you tightly like he would die if he let go.

"You know, I was never scared of you and I thought that made me stupid. Naive. You name it. You were so good at scaring people off, it was admirable, I couldn't help but be in fucking awe of you when you were being so…dangerous.” You spoke gently as your fingers went to trace something undistinct on his chest. “The others warned me that you'd probably rip my tongue out of my gaping mouth if I ever tried anything at all with you and I was half expecting you to break me in half like a toothpick when I just...held you....for the first time. Even if you did break me in half I would've relished every second of it, I think I've spent so much time practically begging you to just…break me.” Your voice faltered slightly and a smattering of whirlwind emotions started to rise within you. Miguel was hooked on your every word like a dog with a bird at your door. “When you told me you wanted me to touch you and that you wanted to touch me, I felt like... a teenager being asked out by an allstar jock. It was pathetic but I didn't care. It was you...and bit by bit, minute by minute I started to fall in love with you. I thought I was being a fucking idiot because who the hell was I to fall in love with Miguel O'Hara?” Miguel's silence was gruelling and heavy, he didn't want to answer your question becuase if he started he wouldn't be able to stop. His lips pressed against your temple and as always you melted into him.

“Don't think that little of yourself. I don't like it.” He murmured.

“It's not fair to you at all...all of this, I know that. All of these secrets bleeding into each other when you already have the weight of the whole fucking multiverse on those broad and tired shoulders.”

“Let them bleed for all I care.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x y/n #across the spiderverse

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spenglernot · 7 months

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STORIES TELLING: NED LOWE AND THE DEATH OF POOR REPRESENTATION IN OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

In history, Ned Lowe was one of the most sadistic and violent pirates in the early 18th century, so he’s an obvious choice for a villain for season 2, episode 6 – Calypso’s Birthday. What is interesting is what the OFMD writers chose to do with him.

Lowe announces himself to the crew of the Revenge with great fanfare (cannon ball attack) and gets right to the point.

Ed is thoroughly unimpressed.

Cut to Ed and Stede tied up while Ned attempts to set the mood so he can monologue about why he wants to kill Ed.

Ed knows what’s coming. He is going to suffer but he still can’t be arsed to meet Ned with anything but vaguely bored dismissiveness (and Stede is happy to play along).

Up on the deck, Ned prepares the crew for his big, dramatic moment of symphonic torture.

Note that the Revenge crew is tied down, braced by vices and generally unable to protect themselves from imminent torture and possible death, but their spirits are up. They don’t seem terribly fussed.

Then Stede uses his people positive management style to happily orchestrate a worker uprising in Ned’s crew.

Ned’s crew responds instantly; severing their allegiance to Lowe and telling him off.

The crew sails away and talks profit sharing while Ned dully threatens to hunt them down.

Ned is now a prisoner of the Revenge crew and seems entirely disinterested in his own survival.

And Ned sinks to the depths, without struggling at all.

There is a lot going on in this episode: pay and labor equity direct action, gay love engagement bliss, kink humor, Stede being a hero and saving his crew by playing to his strengths, then having to decide whether to kill in cold blood and feel the consequences of that choice. Ed having one more reason to be done with piracy (while being so impressed with and fond of Stede), and then watching his man make a fraught choice and having to deal with the fallout from that. (And, damn, I haven’t even mentioned the passionate sex bit.) Anyway, back to the point.

Now for the the meta part

The Ned Lowe sequences are perfectly in keeping with OFMD’s signature blend of madcap violence, humor, and big emotional gut punches. But something about Ned Lowe just strikes me as off for this show.

Ned is seriously threatening the crews’ lives, so why don’t they take him seriously?

Why does Ned have such a boring, throwaway backstory?

Why is Ned so nonchalant about his own death; like it’s a foregone conclusion?

Why does Ned have a silver violin and silver spurs on his slip-on dress shoes?

Why is Ned sartorially monochromatic?

And then I realized who Ned reminds me of.

This guy,

Earnst Stavro Blofeld in the James Bond film Diamonds are Forever (1971)

And this guy,

Scar in Disney's The Lion King (1994).

And this guy,

Xerxes, 300 (2006).

And it sure seems like Ned Lowe isn’t just an episodic villain. He is an archetype of the one-dimensional, stereotypical queer-coded villain that has been endemic in film and television throughout history. The OFMD writers have a lot to say about what to do with this kind of character:

Don’t respect him.

Feel free to openly mock him.

Don’t let him take your joy, even though he will hurt you.

He won’t disappear on his own. You have to throw something at him (take action) to make him go away.

Once he’s in the water, he’s content to drown. He’s not into what he’s doing any more than you are.

Oh and, just to be clear,

The LGBTQIA+ community has a very long history of turning shit media into better stories. So, hey, big media, prepare to have your crap characters wrecked (improved).

Now, back to our transformative pirate show with rich, complex queer characters and a multi-layered plot that surprises me every week and makes me feel big feelings - most of all, joy.

Final thought: I do wonder if Ned Lowe is monochromatically silver as a tribute to/poke at, Hollywood and the silver screen.

This meta was written before OFMD season 2 has fully aired. No idea what’s going to happen in the finale (and I’ve generally fled social media to avoid spoilers). I’ll be back, looking at everyone’s fascinating posts after episode 8 airs.

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jeanbie · 3 months

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IF I LAY HERE (WOULD YOU LIE WITH ME?) ★ masterlist.

pairing: eren x reader

genre: best friends-to-lovers-au, actor au, fluff mostly | warnings: fem!reader | wc: 2.6k

note: hey. i still love u guys and i am still pining over aot. will never stop probably. anyway, this was an older fic i wrote but i'm handing it down to eren! title is taken/inspired from chasing cars by snow patrol (my fav song)

⏤ Eren has had enough - it's been four months since he's last seen you, and he's not going to let his fame status keep him from seeing you any longer. He just hopes that you feel the same way when you see him again.

Eren was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that.

It was risky taking any step out of his apartment at any moment; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the bushes in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame.

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse now that he'd booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Eren takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face.

For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the actor from Attack on Titan who didn’t give a damn about the people who essentially made him and his friends famous.

But Eren thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in a different country, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures.

You were at university now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally saw every day months before. It had been four months since Eren had seen his best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.”

Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses resting on the end of his roundish nose. He led Eren out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Eren smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Eren. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road waiting to cross, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Eren's still playing that sentence on a loop in his head. She's gonna freak out when she sees you.

He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. He’s missed it here, and how unbelievably, shockingly awful it all looks when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of it online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Eren says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only really became a super fan three months ago. I'm more into Levi, you know how it goes. And yeah, I figured it out eventually. Finally, I understood why so many people at this uni wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Eren frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy online when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Eren as the words die out in his mouth.

“Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours…it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Eren feels his stomach flip, butterflies going haywire. These butterflies are bitter and relentlessly fast, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Eren is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister.

You’ve never been his sister, even when you became part of his family growing up on special occasions, or even just on a daily basis when you came to visit. There were times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different than that; you both knew it but never dared acknowledge it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice and tall, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Eren remembers looks a lot like your dad’s back in the day. Might be the same kind, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Eren, but then the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here - he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.”

He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were seventeen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep a secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left whereas Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the market, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Eren manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down.

As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person - white walls and a bed set that’s white and covered with little peonies. Above your desk, Eren recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at university who Eren always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his head against the wall your bed is attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the song playing in the bathroom ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Eren hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race.

Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and… And, then what?

Maybe you wouldn't even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Eren was travelling the world with his other friends and film crew while you were still here, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Eren was burdensome to you. Worse - maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

Eren's always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Eren feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be able to give you, even with all the money and the fame.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Jesus, Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Eren teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause, and Eren cocks his head, his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him.

Suddenly, he hears small but quick thuds across the carpet and Eren feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling when you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Eren's eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape at his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Eren absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Eren feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Eren rises up to a more comfortable position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when Eren wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck.

Eren smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow body wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds him of Cabbage Patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jet lag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jet lag, Eren realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming.

Eren kisses behind your earlobe, and then just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Eren was always a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this.

You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Eren feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8.

Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop - it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid’s bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the dazed confusion on your face as he moves the hair from across your face to around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but… Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean…the guys know I’m here. Jean drove me to the airport with Armin.”

“That’s not what I mean, though.”

Eren sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. It's only a few. Most are really nice!”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by--”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. You frown and try to change the subject, “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“I've been growing it out,” Eren replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Eren dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Eren's underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle.

The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Eren even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you, half as a joke, half not. That could be why Eren feels the way that he does, why the confusion wraps around his body and traps him.

Eren knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Eren knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. EREN YEAGER GOES TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND…BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT A.O.T EREN IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s why he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Eren might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, if all those years of confused relations and flirtations meant anything, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant being able to spend one more day with you.

Eren's got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to filming with more regrets than he came here with, and so for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth.

Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be said on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Eren doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. You hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease, then you didn’t mention it. He almost wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy being here.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it 'til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and until then, he’ll just have to be patient, even if it breaks his heart more by pretending.

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