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shurisneakers · 3 months

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unsolved (ii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the things that come with (body harm, priests, etc). images all have alt texts.

A/N: if you're familiar with the format of BuzzFeed unsolved videos, the pictures in this chapter make more sense. anyway we're starting small to warm up but i assure u there's like actual paranormal shit from next chapter onward <3 thank u for the chaotic response to chapter 1 ily guys sm ! as usual, please send me things you'd like to see in the series! it always make me so happy

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Bucky loves the compound. The sentiment carries a lot, considering he’s made it a non-negotiable part of his personal brand to hate everything.

The lush landscape is quiet, spacious enough that he isn’t forced to run into anyone he’s actively avoiding, and has state-of-the art security that lets him sleep soundly, assured that no one will be able to get to his floor in an assassination attempt.

All of his deep love and fond admiration disappears when it’s the crackass of dawn and his oakwood door receives the beat down of a lifetime.

He snaps awake instantly, unsure of whether there was someone actually trying to kick the shit out of his door or it was just another nightmare that often blurred lines with reality.

But after the third deafeningly loud knock confirms it, he scrambles for a pair of pants just so that he isn’t caught entirely vulnerable.

The thrashing doesn’t cease, and by the time he makes his way to the door and yanks it open–

There’s no one on the other side.

Except a coffee cup on the ground and a note scribbled haphazardly on the side.

Shoot day. See you at the studio!

He stares wordlessly at the cup, unable to differentiate whether the feeling coursing through the very fibres of his being currently is pure blinding rage, or confusion that you apparently knew his coffee order.

The studio is fucking empty. If Bucky wasn’t still reeling from the effects of being startled awake by a fake intrusion at 5am, he’d have been over the damn moon.

He does his part as a man of honour and righteousness– calls out a very quiet ‘Hello?’ and then doesn’t bother feeling guilt when his heart explodes in joy at the lack of response.

He spins on his heel to march out, only to come to an abrupt stop when he almost runs into you. He didn’t even fucking hear you come in.

“Oh, hey.” You look at him, hand on a bagel. “You actually showed.”

Bucky’s smile falters, and he returns to his default Grinchian state.

“You made sure I fuckin’ did,” he grumbles. “How’d you get on my floor?”

“I have my ways.”

Bucky’s glare presses hard into you almost like a palpable entity.

“I did a gig as an escape artist for a while. Paid super well,” you dismiss.

He doesn’t blink once, trying to decipher whether you’re telling him the truth or not.

You offer him a bite from your bagel in return, seemingly having moved on from the conversation already.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asks, turning away from you.

“Maya didn’t actually think you’d show up on time so she told everyone to come an hour later.” You speak through a mostly full mouth. “I figured you could use the company.”

Bucky immediately feels defensive, as if that wasn’t exactly what he tried to do.

He grumbled all through the morning when he saw fifteen text reminders sent to him through the night telling him he had to shoot a video that day. He grumbled when he couldn’t use traffic as an excuse to not show up because the studio is two streets away from the compound. He grumbled when the toaster actually works for once. Everything is right in the world. This was, of course, devastating to him.

He finally shuts up when Sam gives him a piece of gum. Then he just glowers, but his jaw is otherwise occupied.

“She set you on me this morning?” Bucky questions, tone on the verge of being ticked.

You shake your head, swallowing before taking another bite. “No, that was social service.”

Bucky’s eye twitches.

“I’ll come back in an hour,” he mumbles, arms crossed over his chest.

You give him a look that lets him know you’re entirely unconvinced. “Will you?”

Well. No.

“I’m gonna look around the studio. You’re welcome to join,” you say instead, looking past him. “We’ll need to know where we’re working for the next few months.”

Few months? No no– few hours at max, if this were to go exactly his way.

“Video’s not gonna do numbers,” he reminds you in a dull utterance.

“With an enthusiasm like that, it’s hard to see why you’re not universally beloved, Barnes,” you comment seriously, before clapping his shoulder. “Come on. You ever look at yourself in a mirror? You’re gonna be a star, baby.”

Bucky, in his current chosen avatar, looks less 'man of the world' and more 'reject of the jungle’.

But the sentiment is appreciated.

The studio is moderately big.

You find joy in messing around with set pieces of the other Avengers video series that were being shot there. Bucky finds joy in locating every possible escape route within a three foot vicinity.

He’s admittedly surprised by learning how much actually goes into making a simple video. He just figured they’d stick a camera in his face and teleprompt him and get it over it.

You chat animatedly about the use of gimbals and different camera gear, lighting setups and sound quality.

“You into this stuff?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No, I just did a stunt as a wedding videographer once,” you wave off, “It was great. You could always tell which couples were gonna get divorced within a year.”

Something unrecognisable flashes in his eyes.

“Escape artist and wedding videographer,” he repeats.

You stop talking to look at him.

“Yes,” you say simply and go on to provide no further explanation.

If the morning’s antics weren’t enough, now he’s convinced you’re fucking with him.

“Anyway, they’ll probably stick us in makeup before we go on camera because it–”

“Makeup?”

“Well– yeah. For the video.” Your eyes dart toward him, sizing him up in a quick glance. “If you look any paler, you’d basically be translucent.”

Bucky can’t even debate it. His skin looks like it hasn't felt the gentle touch of a sunray in millennia.

“Just say it’s part of the theme.”

You snort. “The first ghost I hunt cannot be one who sits beside me.”

So Bucky gets his makeup done.

By the time the studio fills in, he’s already drunk two cups of the shitty breakroom coffee and found fifteen innocuous things to fashion into weaponry if things were to go awry.

The large bright lights force him to keep wiping beads of sweat away from his forehead. Everything exists in a contrarian state of frenzy, and coordinated down to the second as if it were a damn rocket launch. He’s already had three staff members dart about him cross checking if he’s hydrated and if he’s signed the right forms.

“Oh, you actually showed,” he hears for the second time from Maya, who doesn’t even make an attempt to hide the earnest surprise from her voice.

Bucky wants to scream.

“The team’s picked a really simple case since it’s the first video. You just need to read it out,” she explains breezily, switching from you to him, “and you need to react.”

You flash her a thumbs up. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. He’s convinced it’ll trigger another round of people meddling with his hair until it looks ‘sufficiently casual but not artificial’.

Maya hurriedly leaves after wishing you good luck, probably to fix the walking PR disaster that was Clint, who unceremoniously went live on his Instagram the night before after consuming something he procured from some guy in an alleyway, who described it as ‘carbonated milk’. Bucky watched it for a few seconds and immediately shut down the app when Clint offered to take one article of clothing off for every million people that tuned in.

“I asked for there to be as few people in the room as possible,” you whisper to him.

“Still a lot,” he replies under his breath, watching them buzz around him, still brushing up his face and dabbing at his hairline with a napkin.

Someone hands you a folder full of papers. “We lose any more and we’re filming this video ourselves.”

“All ready!” The camera guy, Shane, announces.

“Copy that,” you call back, before leaning forward in your chair, grinning. “Chill. I’m gonna do the talking. All you gotta do is say a few words and look pretty.”

That sounds…doable.

“Make it fast,” Bucky mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

Whether he was talking about the video or his death is still up for debate.

“Recording in three…two…one–”

The whole studio waits with bated breath, but Bucky stares right ahead.

“When I said a ‘few words’, I did mean one or two, possibly more,” you talk through your smile.

Bucky continues looking into the camera like it stole his ancestral property.

You exhale, soldiering on, lips still upturned.

You look at Bucky, hopeful that he will at least answer a question. He doesn’t offer the same kindness, and now you understand why Maya reached out to you for this.

So you do what needs to be done, as a person with a responsibility to all these fine and tired souls gathered here on a weekend.

You kick him under the table.

The crew waits for Bucky to say more. He very pointedly doesn’t.

At least one sound has been procured from him, which is more than what they can say for some other videos.

You continue, “Our story takes place in 1954, in the quaint, rural town of Ravenswood. Irene–”

Bucky scoffs. “You made that up.”

Would now be a good time for him to bring up your previous job experiences you had dropped so casually or was this enough to let you know he was onto you?

Your eyebrows pull together, scanning over the sentence. “I haven't even said anything yet.”

“A horror story. Taking place in Raven’s Woods,” Bucky emphasises. “Really.”

Bitch.

“First of all, it’s Ravenswood, not Raven’s Woods,” you shoot back. “And it exists.”

“Where?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know– fuckin’ West Virginia?” You shuffle through the papers. “Does it matter? You wanna move there?”

Bucky doesn’t add anything further.

You observe him for a moment before deciding to continue.

“In the quiet town of Ravenswood,” you side eye him but he doesn’t look affected. “Irene Wendelin, a 35-year-old woman moved into a house on the outskirts to save up money. She lived alone, had no immediate relatives and worked as a secretary at the local press.”

Bucky continues chewing his gum. You’re not even sure he’s listening, but everyone got paid by the hour regardless of whether he did, so who gives a shit.

“Within a few weeks of moving in, strange incidents started to take place. Irene’s friend Thelma, who also worked as a secretary at the press, recalled how Irene developed a persistent cough, was constantly fatigued, and had issues sleeping due to her skin itching. Thelma suggested solutions from ointments to medication, but not one remedy that she provided seemed to work. As time went by, Irene’s symptoms escalated into severe respiratory problems, leaving her breathless just from climbing up a flight of stairs. She even reportedly started having hallucinations of people crawling around in her house in the dark, but she was never able to catch them in their entirety.”

“How long did this take?” Bucky questions out of the blue, arms still crossed over his chest.

“I think within a couple of weeks of moving in.” You try not to look too surprised. “Further, Thelma recalls Irene saying she heard strange sounds at night which kept her up. The only time the woman felt normal was when she left her house to stay with her cousins for a month.”

Bucky’s head snaps to you, eyes narrowing.

“What?” you challenge.

“Nothin’,” he says instead. “Go on.”

You cast a look at the crew, who look just as confused as you, but you continue regardless.

“Things escalated when one day, Irene showed up to work in complete disarray. Thelma says that upon a closer look, Irene had bite marks over her hands and legs. Thelma, a devout Christian, insisted on getting the place checked out by the church since all else had failed. Father Gabriel, a local priest, agreed to visit the house, but upon setting foot inside, claimed it was haunted by ‘forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’. This was the last straw for Thelma, who had Irene move into her house until she found a new place to stay. Within a few weeks, Irene was back to normal, and the house is still considered one of the most haunted places in the country to this place, with no one allowed to enter.”

Bucky looks at his arms, jaw tightening.

Your eyebrow twitches.

You could see Maya shaking her head from across the room, entirely fucking defeated.

You wait a few seconds but receive no response. Bucky’s gaze doesn’t shift from the table top.

You start gathering the folder with the story in it, getting ready to read out your conclusion.

You stare at him, but he doesn’t look up at you.

Collectively, every spine in the room straightens.

“Asbestos?” you echo.

“Or mold. Could be either.” Bucky shrugs, chewing on the same stupid piece of gum that had lost its flavour hours ago.

You look at him in bewilderment, partly because you weren’t expecting him to say anything at all, much less this.

“Had an aunt once who thought she was possessed. Turns out her walls were full of mold.”

You stare at him. “You’re lying.”

He finally turns to you, no traces of humour on his face. “She got remarried and moved out. Good as new.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s asbestos.”

“Had the same symptoms an’ everything. Itchy skin, breathing problems, fatigue.”

“Hallucinations?”

“Stress. Being poisoned twenty-four hours a day’ll do a number on anyone.”

“And the bite marks?”

“You never had an itch so bad you just bit it?”

“On her legs?” you ask incredulously. “She bit her legs? Is that what you’re saying?”

Bucky shrugs.

You look like you’re going to lose your mind.

You clear your throat. “What about the priest?

Bucky snorts. “What ‘bout him?”

“'Forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’?”

“Maybe it was her,” he fires back. “Maybe that's just how she was, how would you know?”

“You’re saying the forces of evil are just… her bad vibes?” you say it slowly, as if that would make it better.

“Maybe.” Bucky’s shoulders rise and drop again. “My aunt was a real stick in the mud too. I coulda called her a force’a evil when she didn’t let me fire a bottle rocket into the tree.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Bucky looks back innocently.

“You’re bullshitting.”

“About my aunt?” he scoffs. “I would never. Rest her soul. Made some damn good cranberry pie.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not asbestos.”

“Then why was she fine every time she moved out?”

“Because the house was haunted.”

“By mold.”

Maya clears her throat, pointing to her watch.

You look back at her and clear your throat as well, shuffling around your papers.

“Right. So that’s it for this episode.”

The camera guy yells “Cut!’ and you turn to look at Bucky.

But he’s already gone.

The video goes up that weekend.

It takes a considerable amount of time to edit, considering they had to bleep out the steady stream of expletives that you didn’t even know Bucky was muttering under his breath, but got picked up by the mic anyway.

To Barnes (Work):

are you ready for your influencer era

He leaves you on seen. You think you’ll send him more memes of his stupid face.

To Barnes (Work):

influenza

Five hours since the video has gone up, and your phone starts buzzing more than usual. Nat’s already sent you a clearly AI generated article titled ‘Everything We Know About the Latest Avenger’, full of incorrect information and straight up lies.

The first reviews are promising. Sort of. The newest generation of kids on Twitter are saying shit and using terms that are beyond you, but it looks good. You think.

And then somewhere close to midnight, your phone chimes with a text from a number you hadn’t yet saved.

From unknown

Hey. Steve Rogers here. Great job on the video.

Your eyebrows shoot up, discarding your refreshing of the Subreddit that has popped up in your name.

From unknown

Just letting you know though– he was lying.

From unknown

He doesn’t have an aunt.

Motherfucker.

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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lizzieisright · 2 months

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The happy end to this story! (childhood friends to lovers). Thank you for voting!

Palestine: what can you do

Morning comes way too early and your head is absolutely killing you. You sit on the bed slowly, scared you'll get dizzy, and try to remember how much you drank yesterday.

Instead you're hit with a brick to your face when you remember the end of the night.

Holy fuck.

You can't breathe for a second. Why the fuck did you confess to Abby? Did she kiss you as well? What the fuck? What the fuck happened?

You don't feel like you can even start to unpack all of that in your current state. You take a shower with a slight tremor in your body and keep your head empty: it's not hard when the headache is still pounding at your temples.

You brush your teeth and lazily slump to the kitchen, eager to drink something - dehydration is such a bitch. You make yourself tea and sit on a chair, staring at your table.

It's not true, is it? You had these dreams before when you'd wake up and swear something happened, but then details wouldn't add up and you'd come to a conclusion it was your drunk hallucination. This was probably one of them, right?

Should you text Abby and ask if anything happened?

Yeah, no. You'd rather die.

It eats you alive and if it's really happened, it'd be the end. No way Abby really kissed you yesterday - she probably left and your mind decided to sweeten the pill and played the same tape it plays every time you get too upset. It's pathetic and humiliating, but it makes you feel better. Usually.

It doesn't make you feel better now since your intuition is screaming at you, telling you yesterday was real, but you ignore it, because you can't afford hope.

And even if it was real, what's next? Hey Abby, do you want to break up wi-

The doorbell rings and startles you - and now you're terrified. You don't want to know who is there. (Because you know who it is.)

But you can't ignore the doorbell because it hurts your head way too much, so you go to open the door just to end this awful noise.

And Abby is there, smiling with a bag of a takeout next door she knows you crave on the hangover.

"Hi." She breathes out and there's her usual adoring look you can't handle. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm genuinely considering dying as an option." You joke, but you'd really prefer to be anywhere else than face Abby and yesterday's.. situation.

"Did you wake up not long ago?" Abby makes her way around your apartment to go to the kitchen and you're puzzled.

"Half an hour ago."

So did something happen yesterday or not? Is Abby being normal or is she pretending to be normal? Your dry ramen brain can't figure her out, so you decide to go with the flow and see what happens.

Abby serves the food and you sit down to eat. Your stomach growls and there is disgusting smell of alcohol when you breath out; you cringe and start eating, your mind is still half-empty. You feel like a zombie with no functioning brains and it's better than hearing your anxiety.

"Thank you." You say and take a large bite, because apparently you're very hungry.

"I broke up with Mia."

You choke on your food.

"What the fuck Abby!" You cough and it takes a few minutes to calm down. "You can't just say it when I'm chewing, come on. But also: What?"

"I went to her place just before I came here. We talked and I told her I can't keep dating her. She was upset, but she said she understood."

You blink. Your hands start shaking and it's not hangover. You press your lips together to not smile because Abby's words give you hope.

"So yesterday was real?" You ask, scared shitless.

"Yeah." Abby smiles and reaches out, tangling her fingers with yours. "You thought it was a dream?"

"Yeah." You admit and stare at your joined hands. "Are you being friendly right now?" You are cautious. You can't have any subtlety right now, you need Abby to be clear with you. After yesterday there's no space for blurred boundaries and friendly flirting.

"No, I'm not." Abby chuckles. "You want to hear it?"

"Yes." You sound like you're begging and Abby giggles.

"I'm in love with you."

You fold. Literally. Your body gives up and relaxes in the chair and you take a deep breath. It's real. It's all real, and Abby is here and she is in love with you.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Oh my god." You squeak under your breath. "Yes. Yes. Fuck. Fuck, I will."

Abby smiles happily and raises your fingers to kiss them. You shudder and you feel like you're going to throw up.

Oh shit.

You run to the bathroom and empty your stomach. Abby runs after you, laughing, but keeping your hair out of the way.

"Really?"

"Shut the fuck up, Abby." You say and wipe your mouth. "I'm hangover."

Abby washes your face for you and kisses your forehead.

"Is it gross I still want to kiss you?" Abby murmurs and you feel your face heat up.

"Incredibly gross. I'll brush my teeth first."

Abby laughs and watches impatiently as you brush your teeth. The moment you finish she is turning you around and kisses you, wet and hungry, and your knees buckle. Abby is not shy and she is not trying to slow down, practically devouring you, pushing her tongue inside your mouth and squeezing your waist as if she is mapping you with her fingers. You're overwhelmed by all of this, but you respond eagerly and hug her shoulders. The kiss tastes like mint, but both of you don't mind.

"I guess your skills improved since we were 14." Abby teases you, but she is smiling happily. You are both panting, and you pinch her side enough for it to be painful.

"And you still drool all over my face."

"Well." Abby smirks at you. "You seem to like it."

"Maybe." You return the smirk and kiss her again, wondering if your God is a still a God if you can reach her?

You think she is.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou

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aemonds-sapphire · 1 year

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Inexperience

Summary: You have often wondered how it feels to pleasure a man, so you take it up with Aemond.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Inexperienced reader. Friends to lovers (if you squint). Handjob. Masturbation.

Word count: 2k

Part II

“You’re doing it again.”

Aemond’s velvety voice snapped you from your intrusive thoughts state at once.

Inwardly scolding yourself, you shifted your attention back to the embroidery in your hands.

You weren’t being exceptionally subtle when it came to staring at him.

And Aemond’s observational skills were far too perfected for your own good.

“I apologise,” you said quietly.

Even from the corner of your eye you could see an intriguing smile on his lips as he lifted his eye from the book. “As you wish, my lady.”

You felt a rush of heat pool in your face. Even after years of growing up with Prince Aemond and tearing down any walls that were built from the unavoidable hierarchical imbalance, he would always know how to get under your skin.

The two of you would spend long hours in the fireplace room after supper, enjoying the calmness and silence. You’d be entertained with your embroideries while Aemond took his time diving into history and philosophy books.

A very intriguing young man he was.

In fact, he was just as intriguing as he was perceptive, which was why it didn’t surprise you that he had caught on to you occasionally glaring at him.

Not just him.

His body.

Quite frankly, the burning curiosity inside you begged you to just ask. It could be considered improper, but your mind kept wondering how.

How did he do it?

How did it feel like?

What was the worst that could happen should you ask these questions?

The matter of intimacy was all but known to both of you. He’d often invade your dreams with kisses and moans, but you didn’t dare reveal any of that to him. Sometimes, when about to doze off, you’d wonder whether it was reciprocal.

Not that it mattered. Your father would one day marry you off to some lord in some decaying castle never to cross paths with Aemond Targaryen ever again.

So you might as well ask and it was apparent that your body language betrayed your forced calm demeanour as it was enough to get his attention.

“Why are you so tense?”

You jolted in your seat, nearly jabbing the needle in your finger. “I am not tense at all,” you offered a smile.

“Lying is very unbecoming of you,” he said, flipping through a couple of pages. “Whatever is on your mind, you can share with me.”

You straightened in your seat, lowering your faze to the flowers you were carefully threading with your needle. Given the current circumstances, embroidery seemed far more inviting in comparison with having to deal with a suspicious Aemond.

“Take your time,” he said, not tearing his eye from the book and drumming his fingers on the padded armrest.

“I… it is nothing, Aemond.”

If you thought that was enough to shake him off, you were dead wrong. Instead, Aemond heaved a deep sigh and closed the book on his lap, staring intensely at you.

You tried your best to ignore his penetrating glare, but all to no avail.

“Do you take me for a fool?” he asked, but there no hint of annoyance in his voice.

If anything, he seemed deeply amused.

“What do you—”

Aemond interrupted you at once. “I’ve noticed the way you’ve been staring at me as of late.”

You looked at him wide-eyed. “Staring?”

“Subtlety isn’t your strongest suit.”

His eye was studying your every move and you had to be the inside of your cheek in frustration. More at yourself than at him, if you were being honest. You knew he wasn’t who was easily fooled, but you had also not expected that all the glaring had become that noticeable.

“It is nothing,” you said, feeling droplets of sweat coating the pads of your fingers, staining the coloured thread.

“You keep staring at my hands. Why?”

He had beautiful hands, indeed.

“For no reason.”

“Lie to me one more time and I will not have you riding Vhagar with me again.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He clicked his tongue. “Do not try me.”

Your heart clenched as your felt trapped. “It’s nothing much,” you lowered your voice and glanced around to make sure no unwanted visitors were present. I was just wondering how it feels when you... uh... when you... do it.”

Aemond’s eyebrow arched. “Do... what?”

You weren’t sure if he was genuinely unaware of the implication, or if he was just pretending in order to get you riled up. However, were willing to bet on the latter.

“Hmm... you know...” you said, feeling your face burn hot from embarrassment. “How does it feel when you… hmm… pleasure yourself,” you finally managed to get the words out but quickly added, “Just curious… because… hmmm… just curious and—”

You cut yourself off, realising you were now rambling.

Tense moments ticked by and you noticed Aemond Targaryen was visibly amused. “Is this your subtle way of asking me to touch myself in front of you?”

Panic immediately hit you hard. “Of course not! Why would I want to see that? How — how is that—what? — I was merely wondering.”

He placed the heavy book on the table by his side, as his lips curled into a smile. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

You shot him a death glare. “If you don’t want to tell me just say that.”

“I do not indulge in such depravities.”

“Lies,” you threw at him in disbelief. “I do not believe you.”

“Lies? Well, it does take one to know one, I reckon.”

You bit the inside of your cheek once at the remark regarding your earlier failed attempt at deception.

“There is no need to get tense,” Aemond said, standing up to take a seat in the nearby velvet-padded settee.

“I’m really not.”

“We all have urges, I suppose,” he then shrugged, staring at his own hands. “I have never done this with someone else. It could be… interesting.”

“You could simply tell me how it feels or how you do it,” you said, mouth turning dry. “Besides, we would not be doing anything here.”

“Why tell you when I can show you?”

He could not be serious…

“The doors are closed,” he said, extending one hand to you. “No one comes here this late at nigh. Come here.”

Your feet brought you to him before you could even process what was happening. “I was having a serious conversation and you’re now talking about your… your…” you pointed at his crotch as you say by his side.

This time he arched an eyebrow at you. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. Weren’t you the one who wanted to know how it feels like?”

Point taken. “Yes, but—”

“So what do you want me to talk about?” Aemond asked, lips turning into a devious grin.

“You are being vulgar.”

“You started this conversation, my lady,” he pointed out. “You’re the one who’s being vulgar.”

There was no way around it. You were definitely making things worse for yourself. This had started off innocently enough, but he was easily bending the conversation to his will.

You decided to ignore his remark and had your eyes on the lit fireplace in front of you, determined to enjoy the way the flames danced around and burned through the wood.

But Aemond was relentless.

“I can show you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You awaited for him to quickly take that back as a joke, but that moment never came.

He was dead serious.

“No, thank you,” you breathed, still not daring to look at him.

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind taking a peak, but you couldn’t just admit to that. What if it made things awkward between you? What if you had crossed a line you weren’t sure you could go back from?

You kept your eyes firmly locked on cackling fire, but you could feel him shift beside you. It was probably a bad idea to dart your eyes to the side to watch as his legs lazily sprawled out from the settee, with and one hand resting on his belt.

You jolted when you saw him extend his hand to you. “You may touch it.”

This was definitely not what you had in mind. “Uh...”

He chuckled briefly. “It is my hand, not my cock.”

Your chin nearly dropped at his crass words and you frowned. “It’s simply genuine curiosity.”

He chuckled. “And I’m here willing to satisfy that curiosity. We have shared a friendship for many years,” he said, voiced coated in tones of warm honey. “If you are to learn about such things, I’d rather be the one enlightening you.”

It was such an unexpected and truthful statement, you felt your heart soar.

But as satisfying as it was to hear such words from him, you still had a shred of dignity left. “What if someone comes in?” you hissed in a low voice, eyes roaming across the room.

“We can be discreet,” he said. “Have you forgotten the many times we hid under beds after raiding the kitchen? No one would ever find us and those apples tasted ten times better.”

The memories of your shared youth tugged gently at your heartstrings.

“But we’re not hiding.”

Aemond brought a finger to trace the back of your hand. “We don’t have to. Not anymore.”

You swallowed hard hand watched as he offered you his hand at first. Without failt, your heartbeat sped up instantly, but you did your best to ignore it as you inspected his hand. His palm was turned upwards, giving you access to his warm skin.

“Can I...?”

Aemond had his head on the backrest, half-hooded eye still on you. “Yes.”

Holding the back of his hand in yours, you let your index finger slowly drag across it.

You could have sworn you heard the faintest sound come from him.

His skin felt really warm to the touch, nearly

“Is this alright?” you asked, halting briefly and studying his face.

“Carry on.”

But then something else in your field of vision caught your attention.

The hand he had resting on his belt drew you to look a bit further down and—

“Aemond?” your sudden gasp had him staring at you. “How are you...”

He bent his neck to stare down at the bulge in his pants. “I have no control over it.”

You wanted to be outraged, but this made you feel empowered and did wonders to your ego. You wanted to let go of his hand and be done with... whatever this was.

But you didn’t dare break contact with him.

If anything, the grip on his hand only intensified.

“Keep going… I can get harder than this.”

Gods. His hoarse voice immediately caused your thumb to resume the soft strokes along the palm of his hand.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you were no longer bothered in concealing how much your body craved more of him.

And just like Aemond had promised, you were able to see his cock growing harder and even twitching slightly each time you applied a certain amount of pressure on his skin.

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants.

You wanted more.

No.

You needed more.

Apparently, the feeling was mutual as he had his fingers on the buckle of his belt, tugging on it. The sight had your mouth watering. The not so subtle bulge was clearly making him uncomfortable in a way and in eye you detected undeniable lust.

You couldn’t help but shift closer to him, and the motion triggered him into undoing his belt. Once he got it out of the way, he unbuttoned his pants.

He heaved a deep sigh of relief at sudden relief of tension.

“Maybe we should stop?”

“Do you want to?” he asked, gently fiddling with the waistband of his pants.

No. “It’s just... what if someone—”

“You keep sabotaging yourself,” he groaned in exasperation.

“But... if someone comes in...”

He growled. “I will behead them.”

Your eyes widened in sudden horror.

“I am not being serious,” he finally added, offering you a grin. “Just enjoy this.”

In one switft motion, he pulled the fabric down, freeing his hard cock.

“Oh...”

You had never seen one before. It looked intimidating and you tried to do something other than just glare, but you couldn’t quite believe in what was happening just yet.

“Such a pretty mouth...” he observed as his eye dropped to your lips and wrapping his fingers around himself.

Your clit was pulsing as your walls clenched and pushed out more and more wetness to coat your folds.

Aemond started pumping his cock in a lazy rhythm, eye fully locked with yours. You saw a few beads of a clear liquid pooling around the tip.

“Keep touching me…”

“I... I...” you sounded like a fish out of water.

He tightened the grip on his cock, forcing more of the liquid to come out. That’s when it started sliding down and onto his knuckles.

“Keep going…”

It was clear he was getting impatient and the strain in his voice hit your brain, causing you to straighten before bringing the palm of his hand to your lips.

You made sure he kept his eye on you when you started pressing soft kisses to each finger.

“Good...” he praised and encouraged, bringing the palm of his other hand to rub on the tip of his cock.

He had his wetness smeared across his skin and you kept on kissing him until he dragged his hand down to pump his cock once again.

“Let me feel you,” he panted, squeezing himself tighter. “I want to feel you.”

You presse one last kiss to the palm of his hand. “What?”

It was his turn to grip your hand. “Let me fuck your hand.”

Oh… Gods…

You felt a load of wetness leak from you it’d be a miracle if you managed to somehow finish this without having your own dress completely soaked.

He guided you down to his crotch, letting go of his cock only to have your own hand wrapping around him, drawing a beautiful hiss from him.

The sudden urge to kiss him took over your senses, and just as the thought flooded your mind your body promptly acted in it, and you crashed your lips onto his.

He was definitely caught by surprised, but had no problem reciprocating the same hunger and lust you felt for him by having his tongue against yours.

You allowed him to guide your hand up and down his cock with his own, feeling his grip increase. He set up a very slow rhythm as if making the most out of this moment.

“Tighter...” he moaned in between a sloppy kiss.

Your fingers promptly squeezed around him. He had been leaking so much that it didn’t take long before your own hand was drenched in his wetness.

It was hard to focus on his cock when he was completely robbing you of air, refusing to break the kiss.

When he finally let go of your lips, you saw him staring down at his cock fucking your hand. You could feel his breath come out in pants when he started lifting his hips to set a new tempo.

“Is… is this how you do it?” you said innocently.

Aemond’s eye closed shut and that was the best reply he could have given you.

You absentmindedly brought your free hand to roam under your dress and to your undergarments. Your wetness was sipping through the fabric, your pussy clenching at the thought of one day having him take your maidenhead.

You didn’t even notice that he had undone his coat and lifted his shirt, exposing his abdomen as it flexed with each snap of his hips, a sheer coat of sweat forming as he sped up.

“Are you tighter than this?” he groaned.

How could someone be this… alluring?

He kissed you again, his hand gripping yours tighter once again.

But you needed more of him.

You pushed him away for a moment so you could swing one leg over his waist, effectively sitting on his crotch. Lifting your dress, you revealed your soaked undergarments. Aemond was shamelessly glaring at the stain that was spreading across the fabric.

“Be quiet,” you told him, squeezing his cock as a warning.

“I said nothing,” he said with a knowing smile.

You needed the friction on your clit and this new position would grant you that. With each thrust from him, your clit was being pressed gently, and you couldn’t help the deep moan that slipled through your mouth.

Aemond finally let go of his grip in you and brought both hands to frame your face, once again draining your lungs from air as he pulled you into a scorching kiss.

You never thought you’d be this close to release, but that was the least of your concerns. You wanted to watch that beautiful man unravel before your eyes.

He kept on thrusting into your hand, and when he pulled away you knew he was close. You took some time to admire how his beautiful face twisted in pleasure, mouth parted into laboured gasps.

“Faster...” he urged you and you were more to glad to oblige.

You were now familiar with what made him groan deeper, gasp louder, and roll his hips higher. It took him only a few more moments before his thrusts started faltering, and he had to bite the back of his hand to keep himself from groaning out loud as hot spurts of cum started shooting against your undergarments. You shuddered as the head of his cock pressed into your clit and his warm released sipped into the fabric.

You tumbled forward to rest your head against his shoulder, not even concerned about the mess.

“That was…” he let out, chest heaving rapidly.

“Can we do this again?”

You felt his chest rumble into yours. “Give me some time to recover… you just emptied me…”

Part II

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond x reader #hotd smut

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gael-garcia · 6 months

Text

SAG-AFTRA deal on AI is looking terrible, actually 😬

#SAG Actors, I want to make you aware of some of the language in the #AI portion of the tentative SAG agreement.

Though SAG leadership made much effort to protect members in AI, there are many issues you should look at. I have saved the most serious issue for the end. 1/

If a “digital double” is made of you during a film, they must get your consent and inform you of their intentions for its use, EXCEPT "when the photography or sound track remains substantially as scripted, performed and/or recorded.”2/

This is going to be left up to the studios/streamers’ interpretation. And so, any subtlety regarding how you chose to look or move for the character during the shoot could potentially be changed. Your hair, your clothes, your make-up, etc. 3/

Also, your physical placement in a scene can be changed, like your nearness or distance from another character, or even moving you from the front seat of a car "to the back seat of the car." This suggests not much agency on your part to control your character or performance. 4/

Under “(Digital Double) Use Other Than in the Motion Picture for Which the Performer Was Employed,” it says that "No additional compensation shall be required for use of an Employment-Based Digital Replica that was created in connection with employment of a performer who was… 5/

… employed under Schedule F.” It appears that if you were paid Schedule F for the first film, you don’t get paid for the sequels, where they’re just using your digital double instead of you. I suggest members get sharp clarity on this. 6/

If a “digital double” was made of you in a separate manner (on another film or privately made by you), it's referred to as an “independently created digital replica” (ICDR). There is no minimum compensation listed for studios/streamers to use an ICDR of you in… 7/

… any film they want; only consent. You will apparently need to negotiate any compensation on your own. 8/

Neither consent nor compensation is necessary to use your “digital double” if the project is "comment, criticism, scholarship, satire or parody, a docudrama, or historical or biographical work.” So, you could find yourself in a project you never consented to… 9/

…doing things you never were informed of, for no compensation at all. This is the “First Amendment” argument the #GAI tech companies are fond of trotting out. 10/

Another consent exemption is granted to "adjusting lip and/or other facial or body movement and/or the voice of the performer to a foreign language, or for purposes of changes to dialogue or photography necessary for license or sale to a particular market. 11/

The substitution of swear words is not new, but that your “body movements” would be changed suggests you’ll be used like a type of rag doll in post-production. 12/

There are still a few concerns with the Background Performers’ details, but there’s one that stands out as especially sad. "If the Producer uses a background actor’s Background Actor Digital Replica in the role of a principal performer, the background actor shall be paid… 13/

…the minimum rate for a performer… had (they) performed those scene(s) in person.” So, if an extra is “bumped up” to a principal cast member, they never get to experience that position on a set. But you get a check after the fact. 14/

And the most serious issue of them all is the inclusion in the agreement of “Synthetic Performers,” or “AI Objects,” resembling humans. This gives the studios/streamers a green-light to use human-looking AI Objects instead of hiring a human actor. 15/

It’s one thing to use GAI to make a King Kong or a flying serpent (though this displaces many VFX/CGI artists), it is another thing to have an AI Object play a human character instead of a real actor. To me, this inclusion is an anathema to a union contract at all. 16/

This is akin to SAG giving a thumbs-up for studios/streamers using non-union actors. This would be like the @Teamsters putting in their contract that it’s A-OK for the employer to utilize self-driving trucks instead of them. 17/

@Teamsters I find it baffling that a union representing human actors would give approval of those same actors being replaced by an AI Object. And don’t forget, those AI Objects are a mash-up of all actors' past performances, adding insult to injury. 18/

@Teamsters Bottomline, we are in for a very unpleasant era for actors and crew. The use of “digital doubles” alone will reduce the number of available jobs, because bigger name actors will have the opportunity to double or triple-book themselves on multiple projects at once. 19/

@Teamsters The use of these “digital doubles” will most likely preclude the need of a set or the use of many @IATSE crew and @Teamster drivers. 20/

@Teamsters @IATSE @Teamster Audition odds will change. Winning an audition could become very difficult, because you will not just be competing with the available actors who are your type, but you will now compete with every actor, dead or alive, who has made their “digital double” available for rent … 21/

@Teamsters @IATSE @Teamster … in a range of ages to suit the character. You also will be in competition with an infinite number of AI Objects that the studios/streamers can freely use. And a whole cast of AI Objects instead of human actors eliminates the need for a set or any crew at all. 22/

@Teamsters @IATSE @Teamster You are a complex & remarkable human. Don’t let the CEOs convince you otherwise. Seek out filmmakers & showrunners who value your basic worth & committed to human workers on their projects. These are the ones who will make work that matters. We’re going to be OK. Just hold on. /

#sag aftra #sag aftra strike #ai #sag aftra deal #sag aftra contract #text #post #justin bateman #wtf yall. board too eager to say yes i was wondering why their vote was 86%#who voted against

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yeeterthek33per · 6 months

Text

In Your Head (And Out Of Your Heart) (Steph Catley x Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n requested

Also, I promise I've got others lined up. There was just a wave of Stephy and Cait lined up in my requests, and I'm just doing first come, first served rn 😅

Summary: Moments for the trio, complications, expectations, and satisfactory temptations. or all the times everybody but the three of you realise you love them a little more than friends do.

Sleek muscular lines run up the outside of her calves, defining themselves with every strain of the muscular legs belonging to the sweet and bubbly Australian.

Apparently, facing the treadmills away from the wall so that one could see the whole gym when doing their runs was what the interior designers wanted.

It also meant anyone doing hip thrusts was in your direct line of sight, facing off to the side.

The way her shorts ride up slightly, showing off toned thighs, was another problem.

You shake your head a little.

Why were you ogling... again..

Steph's your best friend. You don't want to make it awkward. Sure, all friends called each other hot and stuff, but they definitely don't check each other out in attempted subtlety.

The soft grunts as she lifts up the bar permeate through the music in your left ear leaving your cheeks to darken significantly.

Of course, in the midst of that, you make the mistake of taking a small sip from your water bottle whilst mid run.

Steph let's the weight settle back onto the ground away from her, but in the process of stretching out again, her shirt lifts slightly, revealing a sliver of the soft, newly tanned skin you'd been imagining feeling under your fingertips for months on end.

Water gets caught halfway down your throat as your breath hitches and with that a coughing fit that makes you end up in a piled heap on the ground.

A concerned hand patting your back, helping you regain your breathing, grabs your attention.

It's a familiar hand that you immediately recognise as belonging to the other call for your affection.

If your cheeks weren't already bright red from exertion and nearly dying, they would've darkened further at your treadmill buddy having been the one to spot you on the ground.

Though given the amount of racket you've just made, drawing attention from the whole squad and their trainers, Caitlin isn't the only one now watching you with a concerned look.

"You alright, Dahl?"

You nod, accepting the hand up from the brunette, brushing yourself off quickly.

"Fine, just water went down the wrong hole." You joke mildly.

A smile tugging at the corner of Caitlin's lips makes your stomach warm, and you have to fight every urge to run away in embarrassment as it quickly morphs into a smirk.

"Maybe don't drink water mid stride next time, cutie."

With an affectionate roll of your eyes, you quickly return to the treadmill once again, shooting the onlooking blue eyed striker a reassuring smile as she watches you return to position with a careful gaze, though doing so makes your heart beat a little faster in your chest.

With that, you resort to getting lost in thought instead of so blatantly staring.

You have to get your feelings under control and fast.

--------------------------

"Do you think she notices?"

Steph's head perks up from it's position resting on her propped up hand.

"What?"

Beth gestures to your shaking form, body rattling with laughter as you talk with your teammates during breakfast.

"Y/n."

"Does she notice what?"

Steph's confused look is met with a cynical one from the blonde.

"Does she notice it when you both give her 'fuck me' eyes?"

Caitlin just about spits out her food across from them, coughing to avoid choking, and then swallowing.

"What the fuck are you on about?"

Beth scoffs.

"Please, you both know exactly what I'm talking about. Steph, you were staring at the girl for exactly one minute and thirty two seconds before I had to call your attention away just then and Caitlin, don't act like you weren't ogling the poor girl while she was relying on you as her spotter when she was doing her squat sets yesterday."

Steph's face goes mildly pink as she shakes her head.

"Yeah, no. There's no 'fuck me' eyes. At all. I'm happily engaged to Dean. Beffy, I have no idea what you're seeing here."

"Yeah, Beth, this is weird, even for you. I'm happy as I am with Lia."

"You guys... seriously?"

They both nod, Steph quickly changing the subject with a final glare at Beth so she doesn't protest for the rest of the meal.

They both finish up their food swiftly, taking off separately.

Beth groans, sliding her hand down her face. This was gonna be harder than she thought. There was no way she'd be able to get one of you to admit your feelings, let alone all three of you, by herself. She needed help.

And she knew just who to ask.

--------------------------

"No."

"But I haven't even-"

The captain holds up her hand, silencing the englishwoman.

"I'm not getting involved with whatever you've got planned."

"But Kimmy!"

The striker whines, latching onto the older woman hoping she'll give in to the puppy dog eyes.

"Beth-"

"I need help getting Y/n, Cait and Stephy to admit they're in love with each other."

That makes Kim's brows raise.

"Hell no. I'm not getting involved in other people's love lives. That's a definite fucking no. Also what makes you so confident in this information anyways?"

"You mean aside from Y/n nearly breaking something tripping on the treadmill yesterday after watching Stephy do her hip thrusts? Or Caitlin being the first one by her side?"

Assuming her power pose, Kim gives her a sceptical look.

"You mean when she was drinking water and choked? Or when Caitlin, the closest person to her, checked on her?"

Beth groans.

"No! It's not just that. It's the constant staring at each other. You should have seen the eyes Y/n was giving Cait in the locker room the other day. Not to mention the constant teasing from Cait as well. Steph is a like magnet when it comes to those two. The serious heart eyes she had this morning during breakfast were so ridiculously telling. I-"

Kim sighs and puts her hand again, pointing a finger at the striker.

"No, Beth, that's enough of that, honestly, I will not be getting involved in that, and you certainly shouldn't either. If I see you interfering at all."

It's a silent threat, but Beth doesn't need to hear it. Unfortunately, much like a team mother would, Kim would very much ground her. And would very much enforce it, too.

Okay, so maybe Kim wasn't her best option. She'd try Viv, but there's almost 100% chance she'd say no. Steph would normally be her next best option but obviously that's out of the question.

So she resigns to sighing and nodding, leaving the Arsenal captain alone to do her stretches.

Maybe Jen?

--------------------------

"No, absolutely not."

"But Jen, it's imperative we fix this issue, otherwise, all we'll be stuck with is longing looks for the rest of their lives."

"Beth, there's no issue to fix. Steph is getting married, and Caitlin is in a relationship. You're forgetting Lia is our friend too."

Beth paused for a moment. Jen's right. She hadn't even thought of the repercussions this would have on Lia. She was one of her oldest friends, too. God, she was an ass.

But still, she'd be an ever bigger ass if she couldn't help her friends out a little, right?

"Beffy, I know what you're thinking. But the answer is no. It's not worth it. It'll just create more drama than it's worth, I won't entertain the idea. It's gonna hurt someone, and what, then?"

"I know, I know. But you've gotta admit, there's something there, though, isn't there?"

Jen sighs softly.

"If even there might be an astronomical possibility that they're all magically single and available to mingle, and also completely fine with this. There's an off chance that they might work, given they're all so obviously at least girl crushing a little. But even then, it would still hurt someone."

Her shoulder's deflate, and Jen wraps her arm around her.

"Come on, Beth, just let it go. If it's meant to be, they'll work themselves out. Leave it alone. Now, come on, help me with this cleaning."

--------------------------

Steph's eyes trail across the pitch, taking but a few mere milliseconds to analyse your next run before sending a cross your way.

The perfectly timed lead allows for a perfectly timed header and a perfectly timed goal, equalising in just the second last minute of reg time.

The crowd erupts, and you bounce over to the defender, arms wrapping tightly around the woman in elation.

"Let's go, babygirl!"

Her hands settle underneath your legs, holding tightly so as to not drop you while your hands hold her face, forehead pressing to hers as you yell victoriously.

The final was Arsenal's for the taking now, thanks to your brilliant header.

The moment only serves to heighten your energy, and you drop from her grip only to jump into the waiting arms of your favourite striker.

"That's my girl!"

Your grin widens, and you shake her shoulders in excitement. Normally, you wouldn't brush aside that sort of comment, but it's in the middle of a game, so it's swept away to never be heard from again.

Returning to positions, Man United get the game underway once more, now downtrodden that they have to get another goal too.

Your heart races when you're given but another opportunity in the second stoppage minute. Or really, it's not much of an opportunity, more like a hail mary.

The ball has left your boot in an attempt at a last-minute miracle to give Arsenal the win.

From nearly fifty yards out, the ball sails far over the defensive line, passing a caught off guard Earps, who you'd spotted off her line just moments ago.

When it ricochets off the woodwork and into the net, you can hardly believe it, dropping to your knees in disbelief that it actually worked.

The noise from the crowd is almost unbearable.

Bodies pile onto yours, forcing you onto the pitch. Screaming and cheers from your teammates leave you matching their excitement and disbelief in your limited wiggles underneath the pile of Arsenal players.

The pile eventually pulls off you, and with several hugs and hair ruffles, you immediately feel the tightest hug between your two favourite people. You throw an arm up at the crowd from between Steph and Caitlin, both of them singing your praises into your ear as loud as they can.

The crowd cheers louder at your gesture, the feelings wash over you finally.

Relief. Happiness. Mild disbelief still.

"You fucking beautiful woman!"

"That's our fucking girl right here, baby!"

You grin up at the two women, squeezing both of them tightly and running back to position with one final wave to the crowd.

Two pairs of eyes watching the interaction exchange looks.

The moment play is restarted, the whistle blows for full time, leaving you and your teammates screaming in celebration.

Steph is the first one to you, jumping into your arms, wrapping tightly around you, and legs wrapping around your waist as you quickly grab them to avoid dropping her.

Your heart beats hard and fast, not sure whether it's the win or Steph's hands grabbing your face and kissing your forehead that does it.

A part of you wants to assume it's the win.

A part of you knows it's both.

That doesn't stop you from relishing in the moment, though, thoroughly enjoying her hands on you, which are now squishing your cheeks adorably.

The moment is gone the moment she leaves your arms, but it doesn't last long.

Caitlin is quick to pile on you next, fingers threading through your hair. While unintentional, it makes you buzz just that little bit more.

When her grin makes your whole body warm, you realise at that moment just how screwed you are.

And if anyone were to ask about your blush at them both kissing your cheeks in a pose for a photo with the trophy, well, you'd just deny it to the ends of the Earth.

--------------------------

Steph doesn't think about the little things too often. Moments here and there that aren't even so much as waved off, they're that insignificant.

Small touches. Friendly hugs. Little gifts. Every little detail that she normally ignores.

She doesn't think about all the times she's hugged you just that little bit tighter than she does with Beth or Lia.

She doesn't think about the bag of her favourite lollies being left in her cubby after practice that was most definitely planted by you.

She doesn't think about the way her eyes drift to you naturally, watching your form move across the pitch gracefully.

She doesn't think about the way her mood always brightens when she sees you, even if you'd already seen each other five times that day.

She doesn't think about the kiss she leaves on your forehead or cheek when you say hello or goodbye.

Except she does.

At least now that Beth's pointed it out to her.

Truth is, as much as she denied it that day at breakfast, her eyes were locked on you in every spare moment.

Realising just how much you actually invaded her thoughts and senses, well...

It's a startling revelation.

It scares the crap out of her.

She loves Dean and would do anything for the man she's planning to marry. He's a sweetheart. He keeps her on her toes. He takes care of her better than all of her previous partners ever could.

It's a startling revelation when she realises how much time she spends with you and Caitlin over him.

Caitlin.

That one comes out of left field. It definitely worries her, though, her best friend entering her trail of thought, too. That one catches her a little more off guard than she likes.

So, she leaves that one for another time, shoving it back into what was supposed to be a deadbolt box of intrusive thoughts in her head.

She hates how much you invade her head.

When she thinks back on what started it, she can't pinpoint it. Just that you'd always been the sweetest friend to her. Friend. She hates that her stomach turns at the term.

It'd always been you to comfort her in moments of doubt. It was always you she wanted beside her when victory came the team's way.

Steph feels helpless when she realises how much she actually cares for you.

She feels helpless when she realises how screwed she truly is.

"Babe, dinner's ready!"

Dean's voice brings her out of her head, echoing from the kitchen of their shared flat in London.

As she makes her way over to the table, the plate already set out for her, a small kiss pressed into the bearded cheek of her fiance, her mind wanders back again.

What the hell is she gonna do?

--------------------------

Beth doesn't leave it alone in the end. She's determined to at least get something out of you if she can't get something out of Steph or Caitlin.

Though with Kim now watching her like a hawk during training, she has to be subtle about it, so getting you alone during a night out without Kim or Jen is a little too difficult, especially since you're glued to Caitlin and Steph's sides constantly.

Viv being there is out of the question, so she had to come up with an excuse to get you out with her, on your own.

"N/n pleeeease, I need you to come with me, shopping."

You groan into the phone in annoyance at the blonde. You'd just wanted to enjoy your day off without the stress of having to socialise like an adult.

"Why can't you go on your own? Or with literally anyone else but me? Steph or Viv, or literally any one of the 23 other women in our squad?"

"Because you've got the day off, Steph is busy, Viv is out of the question because I'm shopping for a gift for her, and I want it to be a surprise and you're the only other one that knows her almost as good as I do."

You can hear the pout from your side of the line, and when you sigh softly into the receiver, Beth knows she's won.

"Fine, but I really wanna be back home as soon as possible. I have some serious me time planned, and I wanna get back to that as soon as possible."

"Gross Y/n, I know you're single and all but-:

"Shut the fuck up and get over here."

It doesn't take her long to come kidnap you and drag you around to nearly every store in the shopping centre, and it's a miracle you're only stopped once for pictures.

"Beth, why are we here? Why do you need my opinion on this? Why am I even here?"

Apparently, her final chosen store was a lingerie store. It also means she's trying to get you to purchase something as well. Why? You don't know.

"Because you're the next best judge for me. Also, you need to get out. You've been way too busy lately and need to do some shopping for you and for you only."

"For god sakes, I'm literally you're only single friend, I'd be the worst judge for this."

Punctuating your sentence with dropping into your seat once again with a tired groan.

"Also, I know I've been way too busy, that's why I was at home in the first place. Now, can we please hurry up and go, Beffy?"

You whine, now getting fidgety under the pile of bags you've been made to carry around for her.

Tossing another pair back over the curtain to you, telling you to toss her the next pair, she chuckles at your exasperation.

She's been stalling as long as she can to try and get the opportunity to talk to you but hasn't found the right words this whole time. She knows if she doesn't ask soon, she'll up losing her only chance.

"Just give me a couple more minutes to try these on, and I'll take you to go get some nando's?"

Huffing softly, knowing she's got you with the offer of food, you sit back down again, waiting for her to finish browsing.

"Fine, but hurry up or you'll be dealing with hangry Y/n, too."

"Got it, Sweetpea. Now, pick out a set, too."

Your loud groan of annoyance makes her laugh.

It's only in the car on the way home that she finally manages to ask.

"So, Y/n, I've been noticing some things over the past couple months."

Swallowing the mouthful of chicken, you look over at her suspiciously.

"And what would that be?"

"You've been giving Stephy and Cait eyes."

Turning your head, you roll your eyes at the same time, though there's a sting in your eyes as you fight back the oncoming rush of emotion.

"Beth, you're gonna have to be specific. I kinda have to look at them to converse with them. Ya know, best friends and all."

Giving emphasis to the word friends, you're hoping she'll let what you know she's about to say go. Of course, this is Beth, and of course, that's not happening.

"N/n, that's not what I meant, and you know it."

It's said a little softer this time, with the hopes you don't scare away entirely.

"It's not happening, Beffy. There's nothing there, and nothing will ever be there."

Her heart breaks for you at the crack in your voice and she can see tears peaking out of the corners of your eyes.

She pulls over in an isolated carpark, so she can fully look at you.

"Doesn't mean it hurts any less."

"If it means I don't lose them, then I don't care how much it may or may not hurt. I can't lose them."

You've fully curled up in her passenger seat now, legs pressed to your chest as you pick at the cuticles on your fingers.

"I can't do it. I can't let them see it."

She sighs, resigning to letting you work this out for now. She knows you're stubborn. She knows you won't let her intervene under any circumstance.

"I'm serious, Beffy. You can't tell them, they can't know about this. I won't lose them."

"I won't tell them. If that's what you want, I won't tell them. They still deserve to know, though. It's not fair on you or them to keep this bottled up. It'll kill you in the end if you don't tell someone."

"So be it... I'll figure something out. Maybe take some time away. The only way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?"

It's said in half joking tone, but Beth knows otherwise. She's seen how you coped with your previous relationship ending. You nearly killed your reputation entirely with the constant one night stands.

How you cope is up to you, and she still respects you as a person, but she also wants you to be happy, both with yourself and your life.

She never judged you. She never seriously complained at having to come get you every other night for three weeks straight every time you called her for a lift home.

She did get sick of it though, and she finally managed to get you to leave that behind fairly swiftly after your position on the team was threatened by the incessant news articles with leaked images of you with a new girl on your arm in every single one.

The others hadn't entirely seen that side of you, you pushing them away to avoid scaring them away too.

Beth was the only one who didn't take your attempts at pushing her away.

"Just, take it easy, alright? Don't let it risk your career as well. I'm not letting that happen again. You're my family, sweet girl."

She punctuates the sentence by pulling you to hug her over the console, and you let her, letting the tears fall finally, holding your best friend tightly.

"It's gonna be okay, Y/n. It might not feel like it, but you'll make it out okay eventually."

Would you?

--------------------------

Caitlin, to her credit, doesn't acknowledge what Beth had said until much later. It takes a whole two months until she even realises her heart had been elsewhere.

Until her current relationship with Lia becomes a past one.

When she realises she should feel more devastated than she does.

When she realises that she feels way more comfortable about the breakup than she should.

Her thoughts don't fully drift to you until she feels her heart race when you hug her after she tells you about the breakup.

It's not that she never thought about you, really. It's more that she never realised she was thinking about you a lot more than was acceptable.

The gifts she'd get you, whether it be fresh coffee in the morning or even flowers after your previous breakup just a year ago.

The small cheeks kisses she'd get from you in return that make her cheeks flush a little.

She begins to wonder in that moment.

Had you noticed the way her heart sped up a little when you hugged her, ear pressed to her chest as you both embraced?

Had you noticed the pink hue her face took on when you smiled that gorgeous smile that only appears when you're genuinely happy?

Had Lia noticed any of this?

It makes her feel both guilty but also flustered at the thought of being so dimwittingly obvious.

In the final conversation between her and her ex, Lia had cited her lack of presence in the relationship.

"You're just not in it anymore, Caitlin. I can't be with you when you aren't here, with me."

She does feel guilty for it. Knows how crap Lia must have felt not having her girlfriend there for her, but she knows it's for the best.

What she does notice is your sudden absence. She sees a lot less of you than she'd like. You disappear from rooms that she's in. If you're forced to be in the room, you're seated far from her and Steph.

Training is much the same, only interacting to keep it professional. It makes her heart ache more than anything. Had she done something? Was she too telling?

Her stomach drops at the thought.

What if you knew? What if she was too obvious?

What if-

"Hey, you alright Cait?"

Steph's hand on her shoulder is comforting, and it sends soft tingles through her skin beneath the fabric of the training jersey.

She has to avoid jerking away from the feeling.

"Fine. Do you..."

She pauses, trying to work out if she wants to even bring Steph into this.

"Is there something up with Y/n?"

Steph hesitates at that, an unsure look on her face.

"Have you noticed it too? She's been avoiding us a bit. It's like that time a year ago. When she..."

Caitlin nods, understanding saturated on her face now.

"Maybe something's happened?"

"It's weird, though. It feels like it's just us she's avoiding."

Steph nibbles at her lower lip nervously, looking around the pitch. She notices, though, that they're not the only ones keeping a close eye on you. Beth is looking over to you every so often, concern laced in her gaze and the way her eyes follow your movements.

It makes sense, though. You'd always been closest with the blonde striker. You'd clicked the moment you'd joined Arsenal four years ago, right before the other two aussies had.

"It's probably just something going on. She'll work it out. She's got Beth looking after her, it seems."

The striker nods and moves to continue the drills, though the worry doesn't ebb at all.

In fact, it only increases the closer to the world cup they get. What were you going to do once the World Cup came around? Maybe they would have to keep an eye on you themselves.

--------------------------

Steph, it turns out, is right. It is just them you're avoiding.

It's the why that has them worried.

Their best friend, their favourite person, was now actively avoiding their presence.

You seemed fine chatting away to everyone else in camp. In fact, they'd found you in cuddle piles with some of the youngins more often than not. Something you'd do with Steph and Caitlin without hesitation normally.

She finds herself missing you more often than not, her heart wrenching itself at the thought of them losing you now.

She thinks back on what she'd realised just a month previously.

It becomes clear that she just has to ignore it if she wants things to go back to normal.

Plus, it has to go away. It's already had her second guessing her own relationship. And Dean's starting to notice her hesitation, too. It has to stop. If not for her sake, then for his and yours as well.

It's just a silly little crush. She has Dean, and she has Caitlin and you as friends. Well, only if she can work out why you're avoiding them.

Meanwhile, you're doing everything you can to push down the pain of not having properly spoken to Caitlin and Steph.

It hurts like all hell to not be near them but you need the time to settle before the opening game, which is creeping ever closer with every hour you spend working out what the fuck you're gonna do.

You can't avoid them forever. You aren't sleeping properly anymore and it's affecting your performance.

Beth has been messaging you constantly, checking up on you, but she hasn't been able to see you at all, given she's still in London doing her rehab. Though she does promise to fly over for a few days to come see you and the girls when she can, knowing the other England girls would want to see her as well.

Unfortunately, she knows you a little too well as well, and she calls out the tiredness in your voice one day, it's 9am and you've not trained for the day, so she knows you have no excuse to be tired yet.

You brush her off, but the mild scolding you get in return is enough to have you spilling the beans.

"Just not sleeping too well is all. I'm fine, Beffy. I'm just adjusting to the environment again. It's been a while since we've been in camp."

"You and I both know that's not the reason. How are coping over there? And be honest with me. I have my sources."

Rolling your eyes slightly, you huff down the phone.

"Your sources need to mind their own business. And I'm fine, I'm serious. I'm taking my time and everything, just like you said."

"I didn't mean to explicitly ignore them altogether either. Steph's worried about you. She's already messaged me asking if you're alright and that you'd been acting weird even before international break started."

"Shit."

"Caitlin, too. Said you've been distant but doesn't wanna scare you away. Y/n, please, for the sake of your sanity and theirs. Just talk to them."

"Beth...."

"I'm serious lovey, you need to talk to them, even if you don't outright say, 'I'm in love with you both', just tell them you're dealing with feelings at the moment. They're missing their best friend, not just you missing them here."

There's a soft knock on your door that grabs your attention.

"Look, I'll think about it-"

"No. Talk to them. I'm serious. I can't play buffer when I'm not there. You need to talk to them. Not me."

"Alright, I'll do it at some point. I have to go, someone's at the door."

"Y/n-"

"Love you, bye."

You hang up with a soft growl of frustration, the knocks on the door getting more persistent now.

"For the love of- I'm coming, calm down!"

Swinging open the door, you're met with a sheepish looking Steph and Caitlin.

Not who you're expecting. But at the same time...

"What's up?"

You keep it calm, not wanting to totally panic now that the exact people you were avoiding are at your door.

"Can we talk?"

Shuffling your feet slightly, you step aside, gesturing for them to come in.

They stand there awkwardly for a minute before you walk up to them, poking Steph in the shoulder lightly with a small smile.

"Stop being weird, y'all can sit down ya know."

A slight smile tugs at her lips and they both chuckle softly, conceding to sit on the edge of the single bed while you pull up the chair, resting one foot on the set, knee pressed up to your chest.

"So what's up?"

They exchange a look for a moment.

"We were hoping you'd tell us that."

Feigning ignorance, you tilt your head slightly.

"About...?"

Steph sees right through you though, a raised brow in your direction.

"You know what about. You haven't spoken a word to us since before we even left london. What's going on? Is something happening?"

You scratch at the back of your neck slightly, head ducking to avoid eye contact that you know will probably mess you up in trying to not confess your undying love.

"Just a small thing... it's not really major. I just figured I had to deal with it on my own for a bit."

"And that includes completely avoiding us and only us?"

Caitlin's words have a bit of bite now, frustration leaking through.

Swallowing softly, you look up at them.

"It's not- You guys know me better than the others, figured if I avoided you both, it would be easier to avoid having a conversation about it."

Steph moves from her spot towards you, kneeling to take your hands, which are now propping up your head on both knees.

"Talk to us Sweetheart, what's going on in that head of yours?"

Feeling tears well up in your eyes, you tilt your head back slightly, not wanting them to streak down your face in front of them.

It hurts so bad. You want to tell them, but you can't risk it.

What you don't see but hear is Caitlin moving to crouch by your side, hand resting on your leg, concerned look making it's way onto her features.

"Talk to us darlin', we just want our friend back."

There it is, the word you hate so much. It makes your stomach drop, and the tears flow freely down your cheeks. Looking down at them, you shake your head.

"I can't tell you that."

A shaky breath wracks your chest and you turn your head away, avoiding the worried blue and brown eyes of the women in front of you.

A hand settles on your chin, bringing you back to look at them.

"Why not? You know you can tell us anything. Please, we just want to make you're alright."

The feeling of their hands on you is overwhelming. Between your heart and your head, everything is racing and feels so heavy.

Standing abruptly, you step back away from them both, moving away from their outstretched hands when they reach for you.

"I just can't."

Cutting Caitlin off before she can say anything else, you move over to the door, opening it.

"Just please leave. I can work it out on my own. I can't tell you just yet, alright? I love you both, but I need to get my head straight before I can talk about it. I'll be fine, just... please...."

Sighing softly, Steph moves towards the door, but not before cupping your cheek softly and kissing your forehead.

"We're here for you. Whenever you feel like talking. Don't forget that."

You nod softly, and she steps out the door.

Caitlin does the same, hand lingering a little longer on your shoulder, though, squeezing softly.

There's something in her eyes you don't quite recognise, but you don't question it as she she leaves, muttering a soft goodbye to you.

Shutting the door behind them, your form slides down the wooden panel, sitting knees to your chest as you rest your head on your knees, listening as their footsteps echo further down the hallway in synchronized steps.

You are such a coward.

Why didn't you just tell them?

Everything would be so much easier.

It would hurt too much to lose them, though.

They'd hate you forever.

You'd ruin everything.

The thoughts running through your head are loud, and they don't leave room for much else, so you do the only you know to try and calm yourself.

You pull out your phone, dialling Beth's number and wait with bated breath.

The moment she picks up, its like it all just blurts out at once.

"Hello?" It's said in a tired voice.

"I couldn't do it!" Choked sobs from your end immediately make the blonde shoot up from her spot in bed, her girlfriends arm suddenly moved from its position around her waist.

"What? Y/n, talk to me."

"I tried to tell them, and I just broke down and told them to leave! They're gonna hate me!"

There's a concerned hand on her arm from a half asleep Viv, and she gives her an apologetic look, mouthing your name to her.

"Oh sweet girl, they could never hate you. God they lovd you way too much to hate you."

"That's the problem. They'll never love me like that. Not the way I do. They'll hate me if I tell them. It's basically a lose-lose situation either way."

It's loud enough that the dutchie hears it from her position behind the englishwoman, and her brows furrow. When had this occurred?

"Babe, what is she talking about?"

"Uhhhh.. gimme a minute." She turns back to the phone.

"Alright, it's okay, you couldn't tell them. I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? You're gonna send yourself into a serious hyperventilation if you don't breathe for me, alright?"

You take a moment to let your chest muscles relax, trying to keep them from constricting in your chest too much.

It doesn't quite work, though, and everything just comes crashing down around you, your sobs just becoming harder.

"I c-cant. It hurts!"

Shit.

"That's okay, I want you to do something for me, okay? Put a hand to your chest for me."

Doing so, you set down the phone, putting it on speaker, knowing the drill by now, having done this many times before.

"Five things you can see?"

Squinting up into the now dark room you scan the place, trying to focus on the various items in the darkness.

"Uh, c-curtains, a chair.... my bed, a pile of clothing... myself in the standing mirror."

"Good, that's it. Four things you can hear."

"You, Viv, my pulse in my ears, the cleaner down the hallway."

"Good, three things you can feel."

Swallowing lightly, you rest your head against the cool wood of the door, allowing it to ground you a little better.

"Cold, the carpet is cold. The wood of the door. Sweaty, and snotty. I feel gross."

Ignoring you joking softly, she continues.

"Two things you can smell, sweets."

Taking one more shaky breath, your pulsd starts to lessen off from its incessant beating in your eardrums.

"Uh, carpet cleaner and Steph's perfume."

"That's it, one more. One thing you can taste."

"The peanut butter cup I ate earlier."

"There you go, take a few more breaths for me."

"Someone want to explain whats going on now?"

Viv's voice sounds from your phones speaker, and you sigh softly. Now another person probably knows.

You hear some muttering over the line followed by a small hum.

"Ah, so you're finally admitting it then?"

Huh?

"Wha-"

"It was kind of obvious, really. You really weren't subtle about it."

Of course, she's right. Who were you kidding? It was so blatanly obvious. It was painful to anyone observing it. You couldn't imagine what the other two might have seen.

"I can tell what you're thinking, sweetheart. As obvious as it is to the rest of us, those two knuckleheads have no clue. Thats on them for not noticing you're struggling."

"That's the problem. They know something up. They came to my room to work out why I was avoiding them, Beffy. They're gonna work it out sooner or later, and I don't think I wanna be stuck around them if they do. I don't want to think about having to witness that. The disgust on their faces because they're own best friend is in love with both of them."

On the other side of the line, Beth and Viv exchange a look, Beth sighs softly, her partners fingers carding through her hair, helping relieve the stress headache she can already feel coming on.

"Love, you need to tell them. I know you're struggling. They could never hate you or be disgusted by you. They love you. And they just need to realise it."

"You and I both know that's not true, though."

The frustration bubbling up in Beth's chest has it spilling from her lips before she can really stop herself.

"It is. You're just too blind to see it. Those girls are obsessed with you. The love in their eyes for you is honestly kind of sickeningly sweet. Too bad you're all too dumb to see it, though. It's so damn obvious to everyone but you. You literally just need to talk to them, please, for the sake of your mental health and ours. Talk. To. Them."

"Okay? Even if that were remotely true. Steph's getting married. There's no way in the world she'd even consider leaving that behind. The man treats her better than I ever could. We're just better off as friends. It needs to stay that way."

"Y/n-"

"No, Beth, I'm done with this. Look. I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

Beths protests are cut off by the click of you hanging up.

Even if she was right, so were you. Steph wouldn't leave Dean. She loves him far too much. He's her safest option, and she knows it.

Caitlin wad a whole other story.

Sure, she's single now. But what makes her any more available to you than Steph? She's still your friend. There's no way she'd want you the way you want them.

Letting your head hit the door once more, you sigh, wondering how the hell you'd fix what you're already damaging.

--------------------------

It starts off slowly. She doesn't even realise she's doing it. Little things here and there.

Picking at the little issues she finds.

Poking and prodding at the soft spots, pushing buttons she wouldn't normally push.

Apparently, it's pretty easy to start fights when you know what buttons to push.

Why? She has no clue.

In her head, though. It's staring her right in the face.

The little comparisons she makes.

You'd never get upset over her leaving her boots in a heaped pile beside the door.

Your cooking was always so much better whenever she went over to your place.

You'd never have left her to find travel home on her own after a World Cup.

In fact, you'd actively made sure she had a ride home, her reassuring (lies) left you feeling relieved that she wouldn't be on her own after the exit the Matildas took at the World Cup.

Whatever it was that had you avoiding them, you'd figured out how to deter it. Returning to conversing with the two brunettes like nothing had happened.

It was a little unsettling how much she noticed you putting on a mask with them.

As hard as you'd tried to fake being fine, she could read you like an open book. Or at least to a fair extent.

For one, your smile never quite reached your eyes, save for the one or two times of victory during the games. The most honest one you give is the win over France.

It was another thing she noticed. She found herself breathing a little easier with you by her side, even with a shell of a smile.

She doesn't push you, though. Not wanting to scare you away again.

Caitlin was very much of the same opinion. Even though you'd stopped avoiding them, you still weren't your usual cheery sunshiney self around them.

The striker doesn't bring it up, though. Only encouraging you with silent smiles of encouragement and occasional soft brushes of her hand against your back, shoulder, or arm when she's next to you.

So Steph does the same. Seeing you both tense but also relax under their, although gentle, not so subtle ministrations.

In the early hours of another chaos filled weekday, mainly filled with silent frustration built up between her and Dean. The latter not knowing what's going on with his Fiancee, he eventually has to poke and prod her enough to spill it.

Though, stubborn as the Australian is, she doesn't give too much, only snapping that she's fine and to let it go.

It sparks an argument that ends up with him storming out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

It started over a simple question over that nights pumpkin cous cous salad.

It takes her but five minutes of seething to realise what she's starting and why.

She feels sick to her stomach.

She was sabotaging her relationship with Dean.

And for what? A silly crush on her friend?

What the hell is she doing?

It's in the early hours of the evening that she gets a text from Dean saying he's at a friend's place for the night and that she needs to cool down and work out what her problem is before he'll return home.

With a defeated sigh, she sends him a sincere apology, telling him she was just frustrated at everything lately and to take the time he needs and that she would work on herself in the meantime.

Not that she does, really. Apparently, she doesn't learn her lesson, instead pushing down the already bottle necked emotions she's experiencing.

She knows it'll blow up in her face eventually. But what can she do? Admit she's secretly in love with you and destroy an already sinking ship of a relationship?

Probably.

But why do that when can sabotage ever having a more peaceful break up.

It seems like she's doom spiralling at this point.

It was a petty fight that blew up. Not that uncommon or that bad that it would suggest either of them should be ready to give up on everything they worked for together.

But that's the thing.

It's taken until she's blown up at him to realise how much they're fighting for it here. All of that pressure to be together. To work out.

To be the perfect it couple.

To want to work out.

It feels like they're both constantly giving 110% but when does the relief come? When do they get their due release. When does it get easier?

She'd thought love was supposed to be easy between two people. For couples to know each other. To read each other without even really trying.

Yet here he was, struggling to realise his own fiancee was falling for another woman.

And that she was letting it happen.

Like an idiot.

The more she ruminates, the more she sees the signs herself.

She's been pulling away from him more and more. Avoiding talking about you, unlike before when she'd bring you up at least once a day to him. Always eager to gush about her best friend like a teenager.

Now, even the remote mention of you leaves twists in her guts, and she has to try and subtly change the subject without letting on that she's hopelessly not in love with him anymore.

Oh.

She's loves Dean.

Right?

No.

Yes.

She loves him.

But she's not in love with him.

Not anymore.

It scares her.

He's always been her safety blanket.

But maybe that's the issue.

He was too comfortable. Too much of a safety blanket. Shielding her from what she should have been acknowledging this entire time.

Maybe. Just maybe.

She's been in love with you this whole time.

That's what scares her the most.

And now that she's finally realising it, she realises there's a conversation to be had.

And feelings she needs to communicate. Even if it hurts both of them. Because in the end, it'll hurt worse if she tries to fight it anymore than she already has. She's already hurting Dean too much by leading him on like this. She can't take it anymore, she has to tell him.

Any fairytale story would tell you that it went surprisingly well. That Dean says he knew all along. That he knew Steph was secretly gay and had been waiting for her to tell him so he could comfort her and encourage her to go for the girl. To go for you. To finally acknowledge that those lingering stares from you might mean something.

Unfortunately, this isn't a fairytale.

And he doesn't take it well.

In fact, he's pretty furious when she timidly brings it up.

She doesn't blame him though.

"Are you fucking serious right now, Steph?"

She winces at that.

"You want to ruin what we have because of that bitch?"

Anger flares up in her chest at that, and she shoots to her feet suddenly, coming to your aid despite you being blissfully unaware and not present for this.

Yes she fucked up but he has no right to call you that.

"Don't fucking call her that. This isn't her fault. She didn't do anything wrong. Yell at me, blame me, call me the bitch but do not insult her. Ever."

He chuckles darkly.

"I should have fucking known. How did I not see it? We've been fighting an uphill battle this whole time. All we do is argue, argue, argue at this point. And you don't even try anymore. Fuck, you had a go at me over pasta the other week. You've been finding excuses to insult everything I do. Everything I've achieved. Apparently, I can't even get dinner right anymore. Nothing is good enough for you. Now I know you've just been comparing me to your teammate this whole time."

Her head falls at that.

He's right.

She's been the worst partner to him. There's no excuse.

"Now I know that you've just been lying to me this entire time. And by the looks of it, yourself too."

The following silence as she tries to gather her words only serves to tick him off more.

"Fuck you Stephanie. I hope she treats you well."

The slam of the front door as he grabs his packed luggage and walks out the door with it, taking the last of the relationship with him, makes her collapse back onto the couch.

The tears, the frustration, the anger, at herself more than anything for letting it get this bad. All of it just crashes down on her and for the first time in a long time, she let's her emotions take over and she just cries.

Grieving the loss of a relationship doomed from the start. Grieving the major fuck up on her part.

Crying because she knows it's gone now.

Crying because even if she does end up with you. She's lost a friend in the man she once thought she loved. And that's on her. She knows that.

For now, though, she allows herself to cry it out, knowing the acceptance will take a while to come before she can fully move on from that.

--------------------------

Giggling as you shove Caitlin lightly, her arms tightly wrapping around you and wiping her sweaty forehead all over your face, you blush as she presses a kiss to your cheek with a small wink as she jogs off to the locker room, you following behind with a shake of the head.

It seems you'd finally started to let go a bit. With Caitlin now doing everything in her power to get you to smile daily, you start to let your guard down at your own behest more and more.

It seems easier, though, considering the sudden icyness from a certain defender that has you being pushed into the arms of the striker instead, literally.

It feels like she's latching onto you every minute she can. You can feel the stares from the other side of the training grounds. Feel the burning stare as she watches you with her best friend. The one she's now also trying to grapple whether or not she's falling for too.

You don't pay it much mind during training, but you do attempt to pull Steph out of whatever has her this down suddenly.

Leaving her little notes of encouragement after particularly gruelling sessions where Jonas had let his frustration out pretty badly on her after some major mistakes on her part.

Making sure she's always hydrating during the particularly warmer sessions.

Making sure she's been eating correctly by leaving her homecooked meals on top of her car when she goes to leave for the day.

Making sure she knows you're there even though she never stopped knowing that in the first place.

She'd tried pushing you away to sort everything out, but in the end, you make it a little difficult with the loving you're unknowingly (or maybe knowingly, she doesn't know) giving her. Even in a time when she's trying to make it clear, she wants to be alone.

You and Caitlin don't let her, though.

The forward always grabs the girl by the arm to pair up for training, forcing her to chat way about what's been going on.

She doesn't tell her that she's harbouring feelings. She does tell her that her and Dean have broken up though.

That was a shock to the striker.

She'd thought the woman was perfectly happy, but it seems everything was just bubbling away under the surface.

Caitlin does feel a little guilty for being happy about it, knowing the girl is going through heartbreak and all she can selfishly think about is how she's single now too.

She tells the forward not to tell anyone for now, not wanting to affect the rest of the team with more drama than what usually occurs. Even you, much to the younger brunettes protests.

She doesn't tell you that session.

In fact, it takes her a whole month before you manage to break her walls down enough again to spill the filthy secret she's been harbouring.

"Oh, Steph, I'm so sorry."

Your hug after she tells you is warm. Warmer than she'd realised. The feeling of your arms around her brings a surprising amount of comfort for something that, although she was still grieving, was mostly over with the thought that it's over, that's that.

"S'fine, it was a mess anyways. Both of us were struggling to keep it civil in the end. It was my fault anyway. I just stopped loving him and refused to acknowledge it for so long. It blew up on me."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt either. You're allowed to be upset about it. Sometimes, we can't control how we feel, Stephy."

But oh how right you were.

Despite her scrambling to lock down her feelings and keep her heart from latching itself onto you, it had done so with an eagerness to rival Katie in a no rules match. (Which after a couple weary tackles, had to be vetoed by Jonas and the medical staff).

"I know, jus' can't not feel guilty. I treated him like shit towards the end."

"Steph, from what you've told me, he only fired right back, too. Think about it. He got pissed when you tried to communicate that something needed to change. Maybe it hit a little closer to home for him, too."

What?

Wait a minute.

Oh god.

It wasn't entirely her fault.

It all makes sense now.

That's all it takes for her to finally pick up her phone again to check social media.

And what do you know. He's suddenly got a new girl on his arm, not even a month later.

Now she's pissed. She has every right to be.

Why, you ask?

The new girl on his arm was the clerk at his gym that he ran. The one that he said was only being friendly when Steph got mad about her being flirty.

That asshole.

You can see the thought process play out in her facial expressions, from the moment of realisation to the reaction to it.

"That lying cheating dick."

The evidence?

'Happy Six month anniversary baby'

One title on one post.

She feels so much pressure on her chest drop off with the discovery. Despite the anger, she feels freer than before. The crushing weight of the breakup is now firmly off of her shoulders, and she feels like she can breathe again.

Well, now she can let it all go and not feel guilty about wanting to move on.

Now, all she has to do is work everything else out, too.

"Oh god, he didn't."

Your face is one of concern, and frankly, she just about laughs, the ridiculousness of the situation almost bubbling over. So when she does laugh, you only look more concerned for the brunette.

"He did. I've never felt more relieved, to be honest with you. I felt so damn guilty for ending it the way things did. Turns out he's been screwing his work admin for the past six months. I hope that dick is happy. Those two are perfect for each other."

Despite the situation, you laugh with her, her arm slips around your shoulders.

"So I'm ready to get over it, dunno 'bout you, but I feel like celebrating."

"Ice cream and movie night."

"Absolutely, mind if I let Cait come too?"

"You better."

She grins at the smile that crosses your lips at the mention of the striker.

--------------------------

"Oh my god, I can not believe she let him do that. I swear these chicks are so stupid romance movies."

You groan out at the main character once again, falling for lover boys' false apologies, and Steph and Caitlin chuckle from either side of you, ceramic bowls in hand.

"Babe, it's a romance movie. What do you expect? It's gonna be cheesy and stupid."

Despite your cheeks flushing in the half lit up darkened lounge room in your house, you shake your head.

"Damn, if only she actually knew how to be treated, she might not go back to his dumb butt every time. Woman needs to learn to love herself more."

The pair exchange an amused look over your head, your form slumped into the cushions as they sit sideways on the lounger, arms holding up their heads as they watch you criticise the movie more and more.

What you miss is the shared look of affection over your head, a silent agreement as they both move to press themselves onto either side of you.

Cut back to this afternoon after training.

The pair of them had been chatting away, Steph having told Caitlin about your movie night when the striker got a look on her face. Like something clicked.

"So we were thinking- what? What's that look?"

"I just remembered something."

Steph gestures for the girl to continue.

"So.. when were you planning on telling me you ARE in love with Y/n."

Her cheeks flush bright red, and she stumbles over an explanation.

"It's still so fresh.. a-and I wasn't entirely sure and..."

The laugh that escapes the forward has her a little confused.

"Thank god. I thought I was imagining things. You're not the only one, Stephy. She's pretty great, huh?"

"You're not... I don't know, upset that I love her too?"

"Hell no. Steph. Puddin'. Babe. You can't control how you feel and if I'm being honest. I don't mind at all. Like, I kind of like that you do."

Caitlin's cheeks warm, and she looks down, scuffing her boots slightly against the turf.

There's a small pause as Steph observes the forward. She looks around and sees that everyone else has already made their way back towards the change rooms.

"Caitlin..."

The girl looks up again, finding dilated pupils staring back at her and she whines at the look.

"Steph..."

"Can I...-"

"Please."

That's all the indication the older woman needs to tug her into a harsh kiss, hands finding her cheeks.

Hands tangling in her hair make her whimper into the kiss, and a flush creeps up her neck to her ears as their lips slot together easily.

It feels so much softer, but also more passionate than anything she'd ever shared with that piece of garbage.

She practically melts when she feels the other woman's tongue lazily drag across her lower lip, knees just about buckling as the hands move to slip under the edge of her shirt, trailing across the skin of her stomach.

Eventually, they both pull away, gasping and air intermingling their puffed breaths.

"Oh. My. God."

Caitlin chuckles, hands moving back to settle on the woman's jawline.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

Both of them are pressed tightly to one another, allowing their shared warmth to wrap around them, cocooning them for but a few short moments.

"I kept denying how much I realised I was falling for you both."

"Both?"

The hopeful glint in the striker's eye makes her melt further into her, lips grazing hers once again.

"You both made it so ridiculously hard not to. You've always cared more than anyone. And you do so much more than you realise for me, too."

The grin that crosses the strikers face as she leans her forehead against Stephs is mirrored by said woman.

"I may or may not have fallen for you both, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What do you say we go put the girl out of her misery, too? I hate to say it, but we totally missed the way she's been pining this whole time."

"That's an ego boost and a half."

"Like you need it."

An affectionate eye roll.

"Shush you."

And she slots their lips together again once more before sneaking back to the locker room.

The feeling of the two of them cuddling into suddenly makes you jump slightly, two hands resting on your stomach, shirt riding up slightly underneath their touch.

"I-... can I help you both? Are you okay?"

Both of their eyes on you makes you shrink in on yourself a little, worried something might be wrong.

"Perfectly fine gorgeous."

"Doing pretty, thanks, baby."

Your cheeks are glowing beneath the light of the television and both of them are still watching you intently.

Swallowing softly, you turn to meet Steph's eye.

"I- Can I tell you two something?"

"Of you can, babygirl."

A nod of affirmation from the striker has you nervously picking at your cuticles.

"It's about why I was avoiding you both back in camp. I was... nervous. I didn't want you to know something so I was trying not to spill it."

A soft chuckle from Steph.

"We know, sweetheart, that part was obvious."

Your cheeks flush a little more.

"And, I might have realised something and I've been scared to say anything. Because you're both my friends, and I don't wanna ruin what we have-"

"We know gorgeous."

"We could tell. You weren't overly subtle. It just took us a while to see it."

You duck your head a little, but a set of two fingers lifts it up by your chin again to face the older of the two.

Immediately, you whimper, spotting the way her eyes have darkened significantly.

"Kiss me. Please."

"With pleasure sweet girl."

And so they do. First Steph, claiming your bottom lip between hers, sucking at it, tugging it and letting it go with a soft pop, before pressing back to you again, hand sliding up under the fabric of your tshirt.

A pair of hands gently pulls you away from the defender, and another pair of soft lips quickly takes your own again, leaving you whimpering into it.

Parting your lips at the now hasty swipe of Caitlins tongue, she slips it into your mouth, moulding with your own, leaving you a forever breathless, whimpering mess. Literal putty beneath their fingertips.

Pulling away enough to speak, your chest rises and falls harshly, but you're beaten to it by the forward.

"We've fallen for you as well, sweet girl. We put off acknowledging it for so long, I don't know about you, but I dont feel like wasting anymore time. Be ours?"

Without a single moment of hesitation, you nod eagerly, quickly pulling Steph back into you, allowing your hands to rest on the nape of her neck and as Caitlin's hands trail up to the hemline of your sports bra, you subconsciously breath a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of several tonne trucks fall off your shoulders again.

They loved you too.

You could cry right now.

But you dont. Instead, you focus on the way they touch you like they'll never get to feel you ever again. You focus on the way they kiss you, stealing your breath away with every lock of their lips to yours.

In the end, you're so glad you listened to Beth for once. And she's very glad when she's you walk into training sporting new hickeys and two hands in your own, followed by mild regret now that you're all disgustingly in love, too.

Deep down, she loves it, though. She loves you, and she's glad you've finally got what you deserve.

--------------------------

She's done, but I'm delirious, so I'll come back and edit tomorrow 😭

#woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #caitlin foord imagine #caitlin foord imagines #caitlin foord x reader #steph catley imagine #steph catley imagines #steph catley x reader

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luveline · 2 years

Note

Eddie just wants to cuddle y/n and roan just keeps pushing him away from her

what's better than one munson being obsessed with you? two!!! dad!eddie x fem!reader

Time moves too quickly when you're together. The sun drops to the horizon with the brevity of an egg falling from its freshly cracked shell, the yolk of it disappearing past the trees and leaving Eddie's trailer in relative darkness.

The TV fights to illuminate the room. Colours flash over your naked arms and legs, stretches of skin that demand his attention.

Eddie let's his arm weigh heavily where it's wrapped around the tops of your shoulders, encouraging you to his chest with little subtlety.

You pry your eyes from the movie to smile at him softly. "It got dark really fast," you say, shuffling so your thigh is completely in line with his.

His voice gives away his fatigue, rough and husky. "I was just thinking that. You're staying, right?"

"These are basically pajamas." You drop your cheek against his collar, eye level with his single chain necklace. You watch his Adam's apple move as he talks.

"You gotta start leaving things here."

With purpose, you stretch an arm over his tummy, hand feeling down the slope of his waist. You take your time, fingertips soaking in his simplest details with stunning dedication.

"I will," you say.

Easy as that. Eddie kisses the top of your head and returns his gaze to the TV, catching the tail end of a high speed car chase. He can't have been watching for ten — peaceful, blissful — minutes when Roan marches up to the couch and stops in front of you both, looking fierce.

Stony-eyed, she glares at Eddie with all her might. He's not surprised to see her, but her glaring certainly throws him for a loop.

"What?" he asks, laughing in surprise.

He hasn't an inkling of what's wrong. She's had her dinner and an abundance of snacks he definitely shouldn't have given her, so she can't be hangry. She looks hangry.

Roan harrumphs.

"What's the matter?" you ask her gently.

Your concern is genuine; you hate seeing her upset. Really, you spoil her. He guesses that's your job as her not quite step-mom. Step-mom adjacent. He likes you for it more and more.

"I want hugs," she says, quiet but extremely serious.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry," you say. "I've monopolised your daddy all night. Would you share him with me?"

Eddie flicks his wrist forward to check the time. "Maybe I should come and tuck you in," he says.

Roan ignores him entirely and climbs into the dip between your thigh and his. Eddie misses your arm around his waist, your knee pulled up and almost over your thigh. And though he loves Roan to pieces, really, she slams her head into his jaw and complains loudly at the lack of space and he wishes for just one night alone with you. Just the one. One evening to rub your back and show you how much he cares about you without his mini me stealing your attentions (and affections).

He feels along his jaw and takes a deep breath. Accidents happen. They also really hurt.

He meets your eyes. You've that funny smile on your face.

"What?" he asks.

"Lift your head a bit?"

He lifts his head. You move in and kiss his aching jaw.

Roan's hair tickles his arm as she slides backward and edges the two of you apart with her pointy elbows with a petulant, "Mm!"

"Sorry," you say, springing apart from him. "God, I'm sorry, Roan. You'll forgive me?"

Roan gives her apparent forgiveness with what seems to be a very sombre mood. She wriggles and moans and sighs like she can't get comfy where she's sitting and eventually quietens and starts to slouch. Eddie gives your upper arm a great squeeze and lets his head fall on top of yours. It's not comfortable, but he wants the closeness.

When Roan seems well enough asleep he eases her with an expert touch into his lap so you can come closer again, sneaking a kiss in just because he wants to. You smile under his hand. He rubs your cheek with his thumb and tries to show on his face what he's thinking, though if the eyes alone have learned how to show devotion is anyone's guess.

Roan rouses and screams like she's seen a ghost.

You spring apart like children caught in the pantry. You with a sorry pout, and Eddie with a lot to say.

"Roan, why are you being so mean? You know to be nicer. To share," he says firmly.

"Share you?" you ask with a cheeky smile.

Roan has other ideas. She stands in his lap and almost tramples his goods as she basically leaps into your arms. He shouldn't be surprised, she's made it clear time and time again that should she have the option, jealousy steers her into your lap rather than his. It stings a little — okay, a lot — but he couldn't blame her for her turn of favour if he wanted to.

"Get off," she says.

Eddie raises his hands in defeat. "Charming. Here I thought she was jealous of me. How could I have thought such a thing."

"I- Roan, you're not making all this fuss about me?" you ask incredulously.

"Want hugs," is all she says, burying her face in your neck.

"You always want hugs," Eddie says, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up!" you say to him. You apologise quickly, arms around her small back, "Sorry. I'm sorry, but if she wants them from me-"

"I want them from you! Have you considered that? Maybe I want a hug. Why does she get all the love?"

He swears Roan gives him a smug look when she raises her head. Eddie pretends to collapse backward and away from you both, tongue poking between his lips in faux death. It takes an insulting amount of time for Roan to investigate, and when she does she only pinches his cheek to make sure he's still alive before retreating back into your arms.

more eddie and roan

#eddie and roan #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader blurb #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine

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fanaticsnail · 4 months

Text

Law Wants You

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 652 Drabble

Warnings: MDNI, Afab!reader, Dom Law, No plot, Smut, Law is in control.

I am still getting to know Trafalga D Water Law, but unfortunately @feral-artistry is still sick. Definitely needs the doctor to help her out. Had the ever stunning and beautiful @sordidmusings help me out by beta-reading (thank you bby). Apparently, this is a thing now. This is what I can do now. Gone from writing kisses and romance to whatever this thing is. Enjoy responsibly. First time writing for Law.

Minors, this is not for you.

Law wants you to lay back, be as still as you possibly can. He wants you to make no sounds, nor whisper of movement. He inserts his curled fingers into your needy hole, glistening with desire and weeping with want. The inked figures of ‘E’ and ‘A’ disappear slowly inside of you as he arches his fingers upwards to press against the sensitive underside of your clit, stimulating the top of it by blowing cold air against the sensitive bud. Watching the shudders he creates with such little stimuli brings his cold heart joy, knowing he’s truly the one pulling the subtlety in quivers from you.

When you writhe beneath him and feel like screaming, he presses his unused hand down on your lower abdomen, holding you in place as his yellow irises meet with your own. Shooting you a warning look, he removes his hat from his head and places it to his side of the bed, brings his hand back down onto your abdomen, and continues arching his fingers within your squelching entrance. Slowly, carefully to savor every moment you give into him.

Grabbing the nearest source of material, you place it between your teeth to focus on the slightly salty flavor and the texture of the fabric rolling over your tongue, while he continues skillfully stimulating your throbbing clit and pumping into your needy hole. He wants to see your arousal pooling below you, glistening down your thighs and onto the mattress; coating the area with your slickened desire.

He wants you to fully relax, to fully trust him. He wants to know exactly how your body works and what actions have your body responding to what he was giving you. He doesn’t want you to chase the feeling with crude gyrations, nor wanton mewls of pleasure. He wants it to creep up on you. He wants to coax it from you. He wants your toes to tingle, your saliva to pool in your throat. He wants to feel the flutters of your walls sucking him in when he finally meets your clit with his flattened tongue and swirling motions. He wants to taste you, to savor you, to enjoy the sweetness of your desire meeting his palate. He wants to watch you bite back your scream within the material as you attempt to remain as still as possible for him to enjoy the feeling.

When the coil in the pit of your stomach has wound to its peak, he wants to feel the rhythmic thumps of your walls squeezing his fingers with your arousal gushing against his lips and coating his tongue with your juices. He wants you to completely trust him to guide your body into the largest and climactic orgasm of your life, watching intently as your eyes roll back into your skull and glaze over with glossy satisfaction. He wants to watch your jaw fall slack, your saliva falling from the corner of your lip as you release a silenced scream. The picks of tears at the corner of your eyes, the quiver of your lips as you concentrate on remaining still for him: he wants it all.

He wants you to involuntarily shake and shudder against his lips, suck in his fingers deeper within you. He wants to push down hard on your stomach to hold you in place as you hypnotically gyrate against his mouth to conclude your release. He wants your soft gasps, he wants that small whine in your voice. He wants you to whisper his name between your clenched teeth as you come down from your high.

But most of all, he wants your praise. He wants you to see his work demonstrated against his lips, tongue and whiskered chin as he looks up at you with a small smile. He wants you to tell him what a good job he’s done, despite the fact that he already absolutely knows.

#one piece #x reader #op #op law #trafalga d waterlaw #trafalgar law #law x reader #law smut #one piece law #trafalgar d water law #trafalga law smut #op fic #trafalga law x reader #op smut

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hungharrington · 11 months

Note

okay but could you please write something about steve’s reaction to the reader thinking her boobs are too small for him? because i needed it yesterday and it’s all i can think about

foh sure my friend <3 fem!reader, 1k, MDNI this entire blog is 18+ other than that, enjoy <3

You don't want to be that girl. Digging up a partner's history and trying on comparisons in the mirror til you're sick with jealousy. You know you don't want to do this to yourself, you know that— especially when it always leads to bitter feelings and bruised self-esteems.

But... Steve seems to have a type, whether he realises it or not.

Dana Williams was at least a double-D cup. As was Cindy Prince and as was probably every other girl that Steve's ever gotten into bed with over his sprawling sexual history. Everyone, of course, except for you.

But hey, you're pretty certain you have the tiny, tiny insecurity under wraps. That you can keep it from ruining the budding relationship between you and Steve that is so good, that tastes sickeningly sweet with how well he treats you.

That is, until you're pressed up against the leather of his backseats, his hot mouth kissing yours, hands wandering up higher and higher up your midriff. You don't even notice you do it — freeze up on him — til Steve is pausing, pulling back from you, panting.

"Y'good?" He asks, licking his lips. He checks your face properly, trying to get a read on you. "Everything okay?"

You nod with a hum, trying to settle the nerves alight under your skin. You don't need to be nervous, really, you know Steve wouldn't be so cruel as to dislike you over something so trivial as small boobs. But it doesn't quell your insecurity like you hoped. You still worry what he might think when his hands start wandering again.

Satisfied with you nod, Steve surges forward again and his kiss finds your neck, suckling sweet little marks into the side of it in a way that has you sighing lustfully in his ear. He nips at your neck perfectly, lips hot and teasing, making you squirm —you arch your back into his chest with another soft sigh of his name, your desire boiling hot.

"Mm, feel good?" Steve murmurs into your skin heavily, just as his hand slides up to your chest. You feel your body recoil just an inch as insecurity blooms a mile wide in your mind and in an instant, Steve is halting, again, pulling back from you. His brows pull together, his concern evident on his face as he searches your face.

"Hey, if you don't want—"

"No!" You interrupt, shaking your head. "I- I definitely want to. Believe me, I really want to." You push up and connect your lips with his, a soft and deep kiss that Steve melts under, getting your message across. When it breaks, Steve looks relieved but still, his eyes search yours desperately.

"Then... what?" He looks around the car, looking for the apparent thing bothering you that he can't spot. "Is it the place? I promise no one comes out here but- but we can go somewhere else if you want? Maybe back to—"

You kiss him again, strong and sure and Steve gives a sweet little hmph! against your lips, his hands on your waist gripping tighter. You pull back but stay close, your nose brushing his and can't help but grin. Steve always looks so flushed with love after you kiss him; cheeks glowing, lips pinker than ever... Your stomach does a flip as he regards you with such ardent desire.

"Okay, okay," He nods, a bit breathless. "If it's not any of that..."

He trails off, leaves it open ended for you to answer and you resist the urge to squirm away from the question. It feels silly now, even more silly than worrying about it earlier all alone in your head. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and decide to just be out with it.

"My boobs!" You exclaim, louder than you intend.

Steve's eyes widen a bit. "Your boobs? What- what about them?"

As he speaks, his eyes drop to your chest and there's no mistaking the hunger that creeps in to his gaze. Not so subtlety, one of his hands moves to adjust his jeans as his eyes move back to your face, waiting.

"They're small." You say in explanation. Steve blinks, head tilting to the side an inch in confusion. "Too small," you say, voice a little smaller. "I know in the past you- well, I don't know but I, uh, I figured that—"

"Woah, woah," Steve butts in, expression a little bewildered. His hands on your waist grow a bit surer in their grip and he tugs you closer, the two of you pressed against one another. "Firstly, Steve Harrington is a lover of all boobies. No matter the size."

He's smiling but you can tell he isn't making fun of you; no, in the way Steve speaks in earnest, tone soaked in seriousness, you know he means it.

"Secondly," He begins, leaning in close, dropping a kiss on your neck. He kisses his way down, lips scraping along your collarbones as he does, pulling back just enough to speak. "I like these boobies," he skims the underside of one with his thumb, enough to make you inhale sharply. Steve grins. "Because of the girl attached to them."

A laugh bursts out of you and Steve lasts only a second longer before he's laughing too, lips curved into a grin against your skin. "That sounded so much better in my head." He admits bashfully.

"That's okay," You say, running your hand over his hair soothingly, even as another laugh titters out before you can stop it. It turns quickly into a gasp as Steve's hand shifts up again, palm covering your tit as his thumb rubbing over your nipple that peaks up in interest. He's already back to his lazy kisses on your chest, still traveling lower and you can't deny how good it makes you feel. The fire in your belly burns hotter.

"Gonna let me show you?" He hums, fingers pinching your nipple in a way that makes you keen. His other hand shifts up, reaching to tug your shirt down — but he pauses before he gets anywhere, still checking. He gazes up through his lashes, big brown eyes pleading for longer taste of your skin and you nod, breathy and hot.

"Good girl," He purrs, pulling your shirt down further, his kisses following suit as he begins to suck the first of many little lovebites onto the skin of your chest. Writhing beneath him, moans pouring from you as your cunt gets wetter and the windows get even foggier yet, it takes only a matter of minutes before you find it quite hard to recall any insecurity whatsoever...

#short and sweet <3 #now i say. nanight #i hope this is okay!#jay writes #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #anon #asks #steve harrington x fem!reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader

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homunculus-argument · 10 months

Text

Have you ever had one of those things happen that just straight-up sound like something that'd only go down in a badly written sitcom?

This one time a few years ago, I had nothing to do in the middle of the day so I went out to wander around the city, and encountered one of those christian missionaries of some sort - not mormons, some local finnish-speaking one, probably Jehova's witnesses, I can't recall - who addressed me first. Having only gone out to kill time I figured I'd stop to see what he had to say, this might get interesting.

He started talking about sin, and I told him that I don't think that's real, humans aren't inherently bad creatures that need to be goaded into not doing evil by an outside force. Apparently taken back by my confidence about this, he asked me why I think so. And while I was absolutely not this eloquent about it while talking as I am typing it out now, I explained that if doing good didn't come naturally to people, it wouldn't feel good to do it. There's been studies about that - it makes people feel happy to help others, even when they gain nothing from it, or even at a cost to themselves sometimes.

Doing good things feels good for the same reason as eating, sleeping and having sex feel good - because we're supposed to do it. It doesn't matter to me why that is - either there's a god who made people with inherent goodness to them, or natural selection of the cold uncaring universe saw this behaviour as beneficial for survival. People want to be good to one-another just like migratory birds want to fly south for the winter.

He gave me his best annoyed "alright, fair enough"-shrug and was clearly trying to think of how to disagree with that when we were interrupted. I have no idea how a person that large and entirely indifferent to concepts like subtlety, stealth or an indoor voice even can sneak up on people, but we were both startled when someone I had briefly met appeared out of apparent nowhere, loudly going

HEY AREN'T YOU THAT TRANNY FROM THE PARK

addressing me. I used to go drinking at the park quite often back then, and while I did meet a lot of people that way and my memory is the first thing to disappear when I'm drunk, someone that loud, tall and broad-shouldered, covered in tattoos, with long hair, braided beard and electric blue eyeshadow isn't someone you easily forget. I was, indeed, the tranny from the park and I had been the person who had explained the concept of "nonbinary" to them.

My acquaintance here was somewhere between 30 and 50 and not exactly up to whatever the kids are doing these days, and their reaction to this information was roughly "oh huh so there's a name for the thing I'm doing". As they only spoke finnish, I can't say that I would have been the one to explain the concept of gender neutral pronouns to them, but they had been fascinated to discover that other languages have gendered pronouns in the first place.

Refreshing my memory of the encounter - and apparently unintentionally also recounting it to the missionary who was still silently standing with us - they proceeded to explain that they've never really felt like a man or a woman. And sometimes not really even like a human, but more like an alien who had just been dropped off here from a spaceship - but not like in a psychotic delusions sort of way, but just the vibes, you know? They then proceeded to tell us about some other fascinating epiphanies that they had had while on psychedelics.

As they went on, the christian missionary next to us was drifting backwards so slowly that I don't think I noticed him actually take an individual backwards step, just silently sliding gradually further away from this situation, with apparent mild concern. And while my happenstance acquaintance - whose name I either never heard or couldn't remember hearing - was talking, I noticed I had gotten a text message from a friend, who asked if I'm around and whether I want to come hang out.

So as the nonbinary giant self-appointed alien was finished with their story and took their leave - telling me that they'll probably see me around, and as I was around a lot, I reassured them that they would - I turned to the missionary and told him that while I'd love to carry on with what we were talking about, I actually have people to see now, and bid him good luck with whatever he was trying to do.

It's been like five years between that day and today, and during that time I moved to a different city and back here. I don't think I've seen the nonbinary giant again even once during this time, and wherever they are, I hope they're doing ok and no longer doing any weird drugs. Or if they are, that at least they're having fun.

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sincerelystesichorus · 30 days

Text

let's talk about that one scene in oops

(and fizzarolli in general bc me and my autism r obsessed with this scene and haven't seen someone break it down. also ft. blitz lmao)

just a general scene and vague character breakdown/analysis!

i first of all want to admire the perfect representation of best friends to enemies with blitz & fizz because ugh.

And like Blitz tells everyone this but the way it's so malicious here. Just the perfect simple dig and Fizz's little shit eating grin because it delivered how he knew it would sdfkjsdkf. Shoves Blitz to the side because really that's all he cares to say. Fuck you and what you did to me, bye bye <3 Fizz is so for talking shit and dipping (House of Asmodeus) I love how messy it is but also shows how he really doesn't hold malice for Blitz otherwise. Obviously we see this front and center later in the episode once they start reconnecting, but I like the subtlety and how he's so willing to snap at Blitz despite his usual anxiety with confrontation.

Blitz also knowing exactly what to say to really piss Fizz off once things escalate <3

(Fizz literally so smug and content with himself lmfao)

(smirk wiped off bc hey that's the thing i'm sensitive about!!)

But Fizz keeps his composure. And if you'll let me be alarmingly gay for a second, I love how his version of keeping his cool as a messy gay is managing to basically recreate this drag race confrontation in what is probably my favorite set of Fizzie lines.

youtube

eat him up babes. also it's so important that that shitty coffee and fizz were on this side of the street for framing i'll talk about it more in a sec jfskjdfksf.

and now my personal favorite exchange of this entire scene that is criminally underrated imo:

love his face after this line. I SUPPORT DISABLED PEOPLES WRONGS sfjdlkfsdd. literally so fucking nasty with his clown wit but also so justifiable because yeah blitz did just pull this nightmare and dip in fizz's pov. i cannot wait for that to get touched on more likeeee why were they kept apart ugh.

and finally!!

this cut to blitz,, specifically the scarred side of his face is sooo good.

the face of a man who just achieved critical vicious mockery vs. the face of a man that knows he can only win this interaction one way now

Blitz does deserve a little violence maybe <3 Fizz underestimated his ass jjdkfsdlk.

Idk I just love how indicative this whole interaction is for their characters but especially Fizz, it's a perfect build-up for him. Fizz has major imposter syndrome with dual layers because of general haters but especially because of Mammon and Asmodeus. Not on any fault of Ozzie's,, we just see Fizz obviously thinks he isn't fully deserving of their relationship/his situation and the healthy dynamics of it and so do most major news outlets apparently askjfsk.

(full fizzy meme post & also i like how this is a special also like damn do u think they were also apart of the crossword??)

It'll be really interesting to see how his character develops in future episodes because I feel like a lot of what I've rambled about here has come to a resolution after 2 Minutes Notice in the musical special lmao. I really like how here when he goes to compose himself, this is how he does it.

Makes me wonder how many times him and Ozzie have had the self-worth and imposter syndrome conversation before it finally stuck in the Mammon Musical Special. I just love their relationship and how they compliment one another,, and how it projects into Fizz's other relationships because they're healthy for one another. Love my OTP love Blitz & especially love Fizzie. Obviously.

#long post #words words words #character analysis #character essay #helluva boss #fizzarolli #fizzarolli helluva boss #blitzø #helluva boss blitzo #fizzmodeus #fizzarozzie #bless any1 that reads this whole thing love u #helluvaboss #qb #qb writes

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elyvorg · 6 months

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Kieran Part 1: It’s All About Strength

I’m a longtime Pokémon fan who happily plays through every mainline game, but I’ve never been more than mildly fond of the occasional character here and there, because Pokémon isn’t much for deep and nuanced character writing. Then I played The Teal Mask DLC and came out of it with many, many Feelings and Thoughts about Kieran – enough so that it warrants a full, juicy analysis about all of his subtleties and issues. I never expected I’d write one of these character analysis rambles of mine on a Pokémon character of all things, but here we are. Colour me surprised and impressed.

For anyone reading this in the future: this was written before The Indigo Disk came out and therefore only talks about the events of The Teal Mask. Assuming The Indigo Disk doesn’t completely drop the ball on the best character-writing job that mainline Pokémon has ever done (please; please don’t), there will probably be a Part 2 to this analysis coming in a few months. (Aaaaand here it is! But you should read this one first, of course.)

(I’ll be referring to the player character as “you” here for ease of wording, but rest assured, this doesn’t mean I’m accusing you the reader of any of the questionable ways the player character treats Kieran. I was also very annoyed at being forced to lie to him, believe me.)

His weakness, and your strength

Kieran is a kid gripped with a crushing sense of inferiority and weakness. We don’t see all of where this came from, although we get a pretty good idea of part of it – his sister. So many times when Kieran tries to protest against things and assert himself, Carmine snaps back at him for doing so. Over time, that kind of thing would have made him feel like he’s wrong for trying to stand up for himself, leading to him letting people walk all over him. I don’t want to give Carmine’s behaviour all of the blame for Kieran’s issues, though, because there’s bound to be more to it than that. I expect some of it also came from him being bullied and outcast during his time at Blueberry Academy – I hope The Indigo Disk gives us glimpses into what Kieran’s life there was like before all this.

As a result of feeling so weak and inferior, Kieran admires and idolises people he sees as strong. This becomes clear early on with how much he looks up to you just for being able to beat his sister, someone else he also sees as strong. Apparently, he couldn’t stop raving about how cool you were and how he wanted to battle you all evening back at home.

He doesn’t want you to know that, though, based on his protest when Carmine comes out and tells you so. Kieran's probably rather embarrassed for you to hear how much he idolises you, after all. He also seems to think his request for a battle would be annoying and a bother – he says “You don’t mind?” in surprise when you accept, even though asking people for battles is supposed to be just what trainers do. Why would a strong trainer like you want to waste your time battling someone weak like him?

Kieran’s comment in the battle if you land a super effective move is also very telling: “Oof, ehehe… I guess I got a lot of weaknesses…” He tries to play it off as light-hearted, but, hm, that sure is A Way for a rival character to comment on you knowing about type matchups. And he most certainly does not seem to agree with his sister when she says he’s almost as strong as her.

(Fun fact: the game actually lets you lose the first battle with each sibling while still continuing the story. If you lose to Kieran in that first battle, he assumes you were holding back against him, as if that’s the only reason he’d ever be able to beat anyone. Perhaps he’s experienced people holding back against him out of pity before – maybe Carmine used to?)

He's flustered when Carmine partners him up with you, too, even though you’re the only option that he has at least a vague rapport with now – he’s still assuming someone cool like you wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time on him than you have to. Kieran worries he’ll “get in your way” if he sticks with you, so he hangs back and stays well out of your way instead. It’s a cute way for the game to justify him not actually following you around in the gameplay even though he’s supposed to be following you according to the plot, but it also just makes perfect sense for Kieran’s character. This is a kid who constantly tries to take up as little space as possible because he’s convinced that nobody wants him around. And it’s important that he seems to feel especially this way towards the people he looks up to (with the exception of Carmine, because she’s family and he spends most of his time with her already).

Then there’s the scene where he meets Koraidon/Miraidon. At first, I assumed it was there to introduce Kieran to our lizardbike friend because they’d be relevant later somehow. But they’re not! So the only reason this scene exists at all is for the purpose of illustrating to Kieran that, in his words, “you’re special”. You are A Protagonist, capable of befriending super special, rare, strong Pokémon with ease. (Just like a certain other special legendary Pokémon you’ll be meeting soon, how about that.)

Admiring the ogre

So, as you begin the trip to visit the signboards about Kitakami’s legend, Kieran starts to open up about how much he likes the ogre. Perhaps he feels safe telling you, because you’re an outsider and won’t frown upon him for it like the locals are prone to do. He probably gets that from them a lot and has learned not to bring up the ogre in town – another thing that makes him feel left out.

Even so, Kieran starts from the angle of “it’s so strong and cool because it won one-on-three”, since that’s a more acceptable reason to like the ogre that doesn’t question the validity of the legend, and is less personal to his issues. If you agree with him that the ogre sounds cool before he’s explained why he thinks so, he responds with “I knew you’d get it!” – you, who’s also really strong and cool, would obviously recognise that same strength in the ogre right away, right?

If you’re sceptical at first instead, he stresses that “it was all alone!” and still managed to hold its own – the more personal side of the reason he likes the ogre coming out just a little. By the second signboard, Kieran’s gotten a bit more comfortable with you, enough to start touching on that more deliberately. He mentions that it’s shunned, and that he likes its strength because he admires that and wishes he could be that strong himself.

Then he invites you to see the ogre’s den, something completely unrelated to the purpose of the school trip, because he trusts you enough to feel sure that you’ll get what he’s trying to illustrate about the ogre there. He points out that it seems like a lonely, miserable place to live, and that he’d happily let the ogre stay at his house if it wanted. He’s not quite explicitly saying so, but Kieran clearly empathises with the ogre because he relates to that kind of loneliness. Though he doesn’t want to outright say that the legend is wrong and the ogre isn’t actually the bad guy – maybe he’s got backlash from the villagers before for suggesting it – he's got to believe that to be the case.

(I’ve seen one or two people suggest that Kieran fawning over the supposed bad guy in the legend is an early hint to his potential for darkness, but I really don’t think that’s it. There’s plenty of reason for Kieran to relate to and see the sympathetic side of the ogre in the story due to his own status as a social outcast, without it needing to be a case of “he just likes bad guys because he’s Edgy”.)

Later, at the festival, Kieran has a quiet chuckle to himself when Carmine’s talking about the Loyal Three being heroes, and says it’s funny that she doesn’t know anything about the ogre. Then he conspicuously changes the subject when she implies that it’s just that he likes edgy bad guys, because that’s not it – but at least now he has someone who does get it. Carmine mentions later that she feels Kieran is trying to one-up her about the ogre, and maybe this is true. Perhaps this is one small way in which he can privately feel superior to his sister, because he’s more right than her, or than anyone in the village, about the ogre’s true nature. And while that’s more due to luck and a large helping of projecting his own issues onto it than out of any genuine inside knowledge of the truth, Kieran is the one person who understands the ogre best.

Or, at least, he understands it best… for the most part. Because there is one very key way in which Kieran is actually thoroughly wrong about what Ogerpon is truly like.

Misunderstanding the ogre

This begins to be apparent at the second signboard, when Kieran’s gushing about the ogre’s coolness and says “it didn’t even care when everyone shunned it”. From meeting Ogerpon later, we know that this is patently not true about her – she’s terrified of humans because of how they see her, so really she hates being shunned! But Kieran doesn’t imagine that to be the case about her, even though he empathises with her presumed loneliness and is basically projecting his own onto her. He sees the ogre as somebody who is shunned and alone, like he is, but who, unlike him, is strong enough to not let it get to them. Someone in the same bad situation as him, but with strength that he only wishes he could have to deal with it.

In that same conversation at the second signboard, Kieran then goes on to talk about how his sister always does everything for him, and he’d like to become stronger and more independent and reliable. And, “then, just maybe… I could be that ogre’s friend.” As if he doesn’t think he’d deserve to be Ogerpon’s friend unless he was already strong, just like she is.

He mentions a couple of times that he comes to the Dreaded Den a lot but has never once seen the ogre, which might seem a little strange at first. Obviously Ogerpon kept well hidden from him because she’s scared of humans – but, did Kieran never try to call out to her? To tell her that he’s not afraid of her, that he admires her strength and she must be lonely and hey, maybe they could be friends? If he had, then surely over time, Ogerpon would have grown to trust him and shown herself – so apparently, Kieran never did try to call out to her in an attempt to befriend her. Because he felt he wasn’t worthy of her friendship, not when he’s so weak, so inferior to someone as strong and cool as her. (A lot like how he wouldn’t have had the courage to tell you how much he admired you, if his sister hadn’t blurted it out for him.)

While you’re visiting the den with him, Kieran assumes that “a powerful ogre like that would only show up if it heard some kinda battle”, leading to him challenging you again. Since he admires the ogre for its strength, he’s assuming that the ogre also values strength just as much if not more than he does, which really isn’t necessarily true about Ogerpon!

During the battle, Kieran says he’ll “put up a good fight” this time. Which is to say, he still feels so thoroughly outclassed by you that he isn’t remotely expecting or even trying to win – he just wants to at least not go down quite as pitifully as last time, not when he’s potentially being watched by his idol the ogre. And when he loses (the game requires you to win this and all future battles against him), he laments how he’s ever going to be able to beat you, and then he muses, “If the ogre saw that battle, I’m sure it’d be thinking, ‘That kid’s got some real strength…’” He is assuming that Ogerpon would like you, far more than she’d ever like him, because of how strong you are. This is very important.

(As it happens, Ogerpon was secretly watching that battle, but as for whether she’s actually thinking what Kieran imagines she is about your strength – who knows?)

Friendship! Or is it…?

By the end of the den visit, Kieran has just enough confidence to invite you to the Festival of Masks, and to his own house to get ready to go together, which there’s no way he’d have been able to do at the start of the day. He’s so surprised but thrilled to hear that you consider yourself his friend – based on that and his grandparents’ reactions, you’re likely the first friend he’s ever made, which would not be surprising. It’s lovely watching this shy but sweet kid actually smiling and feeling comfortable around you and happy to have someone he can call a friend for the first time ever. And GHHHH it is so painful in hindsight knowing where things are headed.

Even with you calling yourself his friend, though, Kieran still feels inferior to you. He dejectedly offers to give you his mask for the festival when you find yourself without one, even though it’s the ogre mask, his favourite, his thing – because he instinctively feels that if anyone should be the one who gets left out, it should be him, like always, and not you.

The whole time, Kieran’s bound to be feeling thoroughly insecure about this new friendship. The idea that he’s actually made a friend, and not least someone as cool as you, likely feels far too good to be true, more than he deserves, and I suspect he might be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. When he mentions to Carmine that you’re coming to the festival with him, her response is vaguely evasive, and Kieran responds to that in a very prickly, defensive way. It reads to me like he thinks Carmine is jealous of him befriending you before her, and that he’s afraid she might try to take you away from him as a result. Whether that’s actually true or not isn’t really the point (I think Carmine might indeed be a little jealous, but she would not do something that deliberately malicious) – what matters is that Kieran believes this may be the case and is liable to view all further interactions with you and Carmine in that light.

Then, at the festival, Carmine pressures Kieran into playing Ogre Oustin’ even though he doesn’t really want to. She’s probably doing this in an attempt to encourage him to have fun, but since he doesn’t find it fun (because he doesn't like this game where he's pretend-killing the ogre!), it’d be easy for him to feel like she only did it because she wanted him out of the way so she could hang out with you. And it’s while Kieran’s doing that that you and Carmine meet Ogerpon without him. Of course, that’s nothing but pure unlucky bad timing – Carmine had no idea Ogerpon was about to show up – but from Kieran’s point of view, with his obvious history of being maliciously left out of things by others, it’s easy for him to feel like there was some deliberate element to it.

At first he doesn’t know it has anything to do with Ogerpon, though. But still, when he gets back from Ogre Oustin’ and asks what you two were up to, Carmine abruptly shuts you up before you can speak and is blatantly hiding something – which Kieran takes to mean that you were laughing at him behind his back. That’s something else he must get a lot, for him to be automatically assuming it’s happening here. Really not so far off from his fear that his sister’s going to try and take you away from him, either.

Carmine’s lie isn’t done out of any malice – she is genuinely trying to protect her brother from feeling bad over being left out of meeting Ogerpon – but she sure is doing so in a way that’s going to make him feel even worse over being left out on purpose once he realises the truth. Carmine does care about her brother in theory, but this girl has zero social brain cells. And we the player are forced to play along with the lie whether we want to or not, which awkwardly turns our player-insert character into a very specific kind of character who would do so. I guess they either also have zero social brain cells, or they’re kind of a doormat who’s swayed by a forceful personality like Carmine’s. This part is frustrating, but I have to accept it because of the delightful things it does to Kieran’s arc, which really is the important part here.

Learning of the lie

The next morning, it seems like Kieran’s largely managed to brush off the weird bit last night where you and his sister were maybe laughing at him behind his back, because he greets you with a smile, ready to go see the last signboard. And then Carmine… forcefully demands that he finds somewhere else to be, because you’ve got business with her. Kieran protests that it’s not fair that you’ve been spending all your time with her lately – score two for his fear that she’s trying to take you away from him – and when she snaps back at his protest like always, he runs off.

But he doesn’t run off that far, because he stays close enough to listen in on the conversation. The discussion of Ogerpon’s story goes on for long enough – and takes long enough to get to the important part – that Kieran pretty much has to have stayed to eavesdrop on purpose, which is a little sketchy of him. Still, I can’t blame him all that much, what with his background of being mistreated, and the way Carmine’s behaviour gives him ample reason to be afraid there’s something going on here – of course he’d have wanted to know for sure. Perhaps he was even trying to hope that listening in would prove that you’re not actually hiding something bad from him and he was just being paranoid.

Except that actually, it turns out the truth is so much worse than Kieran had feared. Never mind just laughing at him – you and Carmine met the ogre without him and then hid it from him as if he didn’t even deserve to know. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, it then turns out that he was right all along about the ogre being a good guy, and his own grandpa didn’t even think it was worth telling him that, and now you’re still just going to keep lying to him about it all and leaving him in the dark.

(Really, I have to side-eye their grandpa a lot more than Carmine here, because he’s a grown dang adult and has so much less excuse. He says he’ll tell Kieran the truth “when the time is right”, but what does that even mean? The “right time” would be right now! Heck, it should have been the moment he realised that Kieran had already intuited the truth!)

And all this being lied to and shunned and left out of things (like always) stings even more for Kieran because it’s coming from someone he’d thought was his friend. He’d actually dared to hope that someone – and not just anyone, someone really cool and strong – actually wanted to be friends with him? Of course that was too good to be true. Why would someone as cool and strong as you have ever wanted to befriend a weak loser like him, anyway? (After all, cool strong people only ever want to be friends with other cool strong people; that’s how it works, right?)

Probing about the lie

The correct thing for Kieran to do with this situation would have been to simply come right out and confront you about the lie. But of course he doesn’t have the courage to do that. He’s far too used to being shot down whenever he tries to assert and stand up for himself (no thanks to Carmine). And since he only learned about this because he was eavesdropping, it’s easy for him to imagine having that turned against him, and the whole situation being treated like he’s the one in the wrong for doing that.

Still, it seems like Kieran might want to at least indirectly give you the opportunity to tell him the truth. He heads off to the village shop to act like he was there the whole time, and then casually asks you what you were talking about back there. He’s maybe trying to hope that you don’t really want to lie to him and only got swept up into doing so by his sister’s forcefulness, and that you’ll tell him everything now that she’s not here, because, you said you were his friend, right? Later on, too, at the third signboard, the way Kieran brings up that his family is descended from the mask maker feels suspiciously relevant, as if he only thought to do so because he overheard the story and is trying to give you a chance to go, “Hey, speaking of that mask maker, actually…”

But no. It sure seems like you’re very deliberately choosing to keep him in the dark. As such, he’s bound to be feeling extra small and awkward at the signboard, just wanting to “get this over with” and be done spending time with you, because you clearly don’t want to waste any more of your time with him than you have to, right? The awkwardness of the third signboard photo, with Kieran obviously not wanting to be there, and your character’s very strained thumbs-up, is heartbreaking in comparison to how cute and happy the first two were.

During the conversation there, Kieran mentions the ogre being alone and treated like an outcast in a way that is very clearly also talking about how you and Carmine are treating him right now. The game pointedly lingers on his response to your comment, regardless of which dialogue option you choose. If you agree that that sounds awful, he says, “You think so too, huh?” – you think that it’s bad to treat someone that way, and yet, you sure are treating him that way anyway. If you instead mutter an awkward apology, Kieran asks, “For what?” This could read like he’s calling you out for not being able to admit to what you should be apologising for, but actually, I’m not sure that’s it. It could also be him genuinely asking that, because he doesn’t realise you need to apologise for anything. Hold this thought, I’ll go into it more in a bit.

It's because he’s weak

The other thing that happens at the third signboard is Kieran challenging you to another battle. He doesn’t really explain why, but I suspect he’s hoping that if he wins and proves his strength to you, you might just tell him the truth, or at least it’ll give him the courage to confront you about your lie. This is the first battle in which he says he wants to win and is actively trying and hoping to do so, rather than just accepting his loss before he’s even started. His optimism is pretty fragile, though, as he laments “it wasn’t supposed to go like this” if you hit him super-effectively, and “why does it have to be like this?” when he’s down to his last Pokémon.

But of course, he loses, just like he must secretly have been expecting to all along (how could he ever beat someone as strong as you?). And so he concludes, “it’s all ‘cause I’m too weak” – not just losing the battle, but everything. Why he’s always left out and shunned by everyone, why you lied to him and went behind his back about something you knew was important to him – it’s because he’s weak. He was battling you to try and prove that he’s stronger, strong enough to deserve better than that… but of course he isn’t.

A particularly important little subtlety is that he mutters “That’s why I…” – because it would have been easy to expect this line to say “you” instead. That you lied to him and shunned him because he’s weak, that it’s your fault for choosing to treat someone weak like this. But Kieran isn’t framing it that way. He’s thinking of it as his fault, simply for being weak, and that’s why he will always inevitably be treated like crap by everyone around him. As if that’s nobody else’s fault for choosing to do that, but simply the natural way of things when someone’s weak. As if he deserves this for being weak.

(So: what are you sorry for? You shouldn’t be sorry for anything; it’s his fault, isn’t it? Someone as strong and perfect as you could never be conflicted or in the wrong.)

By the end of this signboard visit, Kieran’s leaving on his own, saying that he’s got to get stronger with his Pokémon. All of this is happening because he’s weak, so he needs to be stronger – and apparently, that means “strength in Pokémon battling”. In reality, even if he did become the best battler out there, that wouldn’t necessarily make him any better at standing up for himself in social situations or being independent and reliable in other ways, but he’s very much conflating the different kinds of strength. This probably has a lot to do with his schooling at Blueberry Academy, which teaches Pokémon battling, leaving him overly focused on battling strength as the only kind of strength that matters. Perhaps he was picked on at school because he wasn’t very good at the battling classes, which wouldn’t have helped. I hope we see some glimpses of this in The Indigo Disk.

And on the topic of Kieran fixating on getting stronger at Pokémon battling: his Furret is never seen in his team again after this point. It was one of the first two Pokémon he used against you, so it’s presumably one of his closest Pokémon partners, which makes it heartbreaking that he ditches it from his team because, clearly, it’s too weak. Even worse, he’s inflicting being left out and shunned on someone else – someone he probably cared about – precisely because it’s weak. That’s just what happens to people who are weak, right? Guh. Poor Furret.

Outburst at Loyalty Plaza

Kieran most likely spends the next 24 hours alternating between fervently training as hard as he can, and stewing in his feelings of loneliness and rejection and betrayal. His grandpa mentions that he spent that night in his room after not even eating dinner, which, yeah, when he’s sharing a house with two of the people who are lying to him, not surprising. Oof. And more than just pain and betrayal, he’s got to be feeling so much anger, anger which he’s never been able to truly express, because every time he tries to stand up for himself he always gets shot down – but that only makes the suppressed anger worse.

The correct thing to do would have been for Kieran to confront everyone calmly about the lie as soon as he became aware of it. But because he couldn’t just do that, his resentment festered inside of him with no real outlet, until finally it becomes unbearable and explodes out of him and he has to do something to express it, no matter how questionable. So he steals the Teal Mask and runs off with it.

I don’t think Kieran actually has much of an idea of what he’s going to do with the mask. The one logical thing would have been to give it back to Ogerpon himself, but that can’t be his intent, because he doesn’t go anywhere near her den with it. And I highly doubt he’s planning to break it or anything like that, since he’d never do something that’d hurt Ogerpon. Really, I think he just wants you and Carmine to notice and acknowledge what he’s going through and what you’ve done to him – and if he steals the mask, you’re going to have to confront him to get it back.

He heads to Loyalty Plaza in particular because he’s conflating his own situation with Ogerpon’s. In amongst his pain and anger at the way he’s being treated, he’d have also been feeling a lot of anger at the injustice of how Ogerpon was and is treated, because he was right all along that she was never the bad guy, but she’s shunned undeservedly while the “Loyal” Three are lauded as heroes. Even though this outburst from Kieran is really all about his own situation, he makes it about Ogerpon first, because that’s easier for him to openly be angry about. He only brings up his own treatment as a comparison to how Ogerpon is treated like an outcast, as if the only way he can frame it as wrong in his head is by comparing it to something that’s definitely wrong. (After all, he deserves to be shunned because he’s weak – but Ogerpon didn’t deserve any of it, because she’s so much stronger!)

During Kieran’s outburst, Carmine blurts out an apology on realising that she’s hurt him – but Kieran basically just ignores it and continues to vent. Which tells us something interesting: that Kieran never did this out of any attempt to get you and Carmine to apologise for lying to him. If he’d wanted that, he’d have reacted in some way when Carmine did just that. So I think, in keeping with Kieran’s belief that all this is his fault for being weak, he doesn’t actually think you two need to apologise for anything. He’s lashing out because he’s angry and in pain and doesn’t know how else to deal with it, but he’s not consciously thinking that you and Carmine are in the wrong.

He’s also still holding onto the idea that you and Carmine were just laughing at him behind his back, which is of course not true, but when Carmine tries to say that, Kieran snaps back that she’s a liar. Given that she undeniably has lied to him about one very important thing, of course Kieran would find it easy to believe that she could be lying to him about anything and he can’t trust any reassurance she gives him. This poor kid must have such a history of being mistreated and patronised by others to jump to assuming things like this.

Lashing out with a battle

Then Kieran challenges you to another battle, promising to give back the mask if you win. Since there’s no way he is truly expecting to be able to beat you, this means that he never really intended to keep the mask forever. But he also doesn’t just want to seem like some weak pushover who’ll roll over and give in as soon as he’s confronted, so he at least wants to make you fight him for it. And based on his line at the beginning of the battle – “I know this isn’t right, but… I can’t just hand over the mask to you!” – he doesn’t want to just give up one of Ogerpon’s possessions so easily to someone who treated him like an outcast the same way those villagers back then treated Ogerpon.

Really, I think the battle – and the notably forceful way he asks for it, unlike the previous times – just comes a lot from Kieran’s anger, and his need to externalise it somehow. He even insists that he needs this battle, if you’re hesitant about accepting the challenge. There’s probably a part of him that wants to lash out with physical violence, maybe punch you or something, but he knows that’s wrong and that it’d look pathetically impotent of him anyway even if he tried. Happily, this world has a socially-accepted form of violence-by-proxy instead, so Pokémon battle it is!

As for the battle itself, Kieran’s switched up his team some more, removing Furret as previously mentioned, and adding two new members instead of just one like the previous times – but the Cramorant he uses here doesn’t stick around either. This is less sad to me than Furret, though, because he wouldn’t have been very close to it. Cramorant may even have been taken onto the team with the condition of “I’m trying out new team members to see who’s strong enough”, at which point ditching it is less of a betrayal and more of it simply failing a job interview.

(Meanwhile, the other newcomer, Gligar, clearly impressed Kieran a lot with its strength, as it becomes his ace for the final fight. Fitting that his ace there is not a long-time partner, but one obtained only after he began to fixate on getting stronger.)

He’s also more openly determined to win (despite his suppressed conviction that he could never beat you), and remains more optimistic than before even when things aren’t going so well for him. In fact, this is the only battle in which Kieran has lines for hitting you with a super effective move or a critical hit. That said, he’s still a little insecure, based on an optional line: “I need to get this right… I’m gonna make sure to give the right commands!” which tells us that he feels like his losses are his fault for making mistakes and choosing the wrong moves, rather than blaming his Pokémon for not being strong enough. He also has an absolutely great comment in this battle if you land a critical hit, which I have to highlight: “What can’t you do? You’re like the hero in a story…” It’s purely luck, but despite that, he’s seeing you as this impossibly perfect hero that he could never ever measure up to, and this delights me.

Losing the battle just seems to make Kieran’s frustration at his own inferiority even worse, to the point that he does indulge in some physical violence, towards the shrine. Which is as pathetic as he must have been expecting, and should in theory have been harmless enough. (Of course, it appears that this is what somehow resurrects the Lousy Three, but there is no way Kieran expected or wanted that to happen, so he can’t be blamed for that.) Then he gives the mask back, just as he promised he would, and (ignoring another attempt by Carmine to apologise – again, this was never about that to him) he runs off back home.

So I find it really hard to condemn Kieran for… any of his actions here? Sure, he stole the mask, but he didn’t do anything bad with it and gave it back just fine (and must have always been intending to). All he was doing was lashing out – unhealthily, but basically harmlessly – over the really very callous way you and Carmine had been treating him. And if he hadn’t done this, you two would probably never have told him the truth about Ogerpon, and he’d have remained out of the loop and never met her at all! That would have been awful!

And yet: making you and Carmine bring him into the loop about Ogerpon and getting the chance to meet her is also not something Kieran was aiming for here. Just before leaving in a sulk, he says, “Say hi to the ogre for me” – which means that he never expected to get to meet it himself. He is still, even by the end of this confrontation, labouring under the belief that you and Carmine don’t want him there with Ogerpon and that he doesn’t deserve to meet her at all.

Apologies, and a lack thereof

After you rescue Ogerpon from being bullied by the resurrected Lousy Three, Carmine shows up with Kieran in tow. Apparently she found him moping around at home and dragged him here to apologise to you about his stunt with the mask. Which, yes, does warrant an apology – but what really frustrates me about this part is that Carmine doesn’t apologise for what you and she did wrong. Sure, she blurted out a couple of cut-off apologies back at Loyalty Plaza, but those never had the intended effect when Kieran was in no emotional state to accept them. Here and now, he’s calmed down enough that he would be able to take on board an apology… but Carmine doesn’t give one. It’s possible that she already apologised at home before bringing him here, but if she’d done that, then she really ought to have got you to also apologise for lying to him, and she doesn’t – so I can only assume that didn’t happen. And you the player can choose to apologise to Kieran here anyway, but since it’s optional, it’s not given nearly the attention it deserves.

Since Kieran never gets a proper apology while he’s in a state to listen, it means he never actually ends up internalising the fact that you were in the wrong to lie to him and he didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Which would have been a really, really important thing for him to realise! As it is, he continues to quietly assume that all of this is his fault for being weak, with nobody to tell him that this way of thinking is flawed.

It's frustrating, but I do kind of get it, from Carmine at least, because she’s also a pretty flawed person. Her deal seems to be that she’s only able to be emotionally sincere in uncontrolled outbursts when she’s worked up, and when she’s calm she covers up her true feelings with bossiness and vanity. Which makes her not at all capable of apologising to Kieran when he’s in a calm enough state to be capable of registering it. These siblings’ issues do not mesh well. Still, here’s hoping that Carmine’s able to self-reflect enough to acknowledge her partial responsibility for Kieran’s suffering by the end of The Indigo Disk.

She does seem to realise her mistake here enough to make a point of trying to include Kieran in their Ogerpon adventures from here on out, at least. But it’s too little too late in terms of how Kieran views things. He seems to have assumed that Carmine dragged him here only to apologise, and not to properly meet Ogerpon or be involved in helping her out, because he expresses surprise when Carmine casually includes him as part of the Mask Retrieval Squad. He was expecting to be shunned and left out as always – what do you mean, she wants him there?

Meeting Ogerpon

The only interaction Kieran was expecting to have with Ogerpon here was giving the fixed-up mask back to her, because he wanted to be the one to do so – but she shies away from him when he offers it. Carmine comments that she’s probably scared of new people, and this is likely the truth, but Kieran’s silent response suggests that he’s not necessarily agreeing with that assessment. Remember, from earlier: Kieran is convinced that Ogerpon values strength. And he’s so used to being shunned by others, especially strong people, because he’s weak. It would be very, very easy for him to come to the irrational conclusion that the reason Ogerpon refuses him is because of his weakness, even though his sister’s suggesting something else.

Despite Kieran’s key misconceptions about Ogerpon’s values, he does continue to understand her better than most people in certain ways. When you try to head into town with her, Kieran’s the one to point out that she’s probably afraid to go in because of the way she’s been treated by the townspeople. He also comments that she’ll feel safe going to retrieve the masks from the Three as long as she’s with you. He empathises with that insecurity and social anxiety enough that, seeing it from Ogerpon in person, he can instinctively see that’s the case about her too.

And yet… seeing Ogerpon’s fear, and understanding that she’s scared of being shunned just like him (which he previously said the ogre didn’t care at all about!), doesn’t actually change the part of Kieran that is also irrationally convinced that she only cares about strength. There’s no moment in which he seems to be re-evaluating Ogerpon or realising anything new about her upon seeing her being afraid. The part where she’s shy and afraid, and the part where she’s strong and cool and therefore values strength in others, manage to be separate enough in his mind that he never actually cross-references them to realise that one of these surely can’t be as true as he thinks it is. So his false conviction that things are about strength to Ogerpon still remains, unchallenged.

Staying behind

Then, even though Carmine is making an active point of trying to include him, Kieran… chooses not to come with you on the mission to retrieve the masks. This is despite the fact that this’d be his best chance to spend time with Ogerpon and hopefully get her to warm up to him, which you’d think would be his priority when he’s quietly hoping to maybe have the chance to become her partner.

But even though it would be a logical choice for Kieran to come with them, it makes perfect sense to me why he doesn’t. As far as he sees things, you and Carmine are way stronger than him and already have the fights against the Three covered – he’d be nothing but a useless third wheel hanging back, only there out of Carmine’s pity for him and not because he’s needed. And in terms of Ogerpon, Kieran is the kid who visited her den countless times but never had the courage to call out to her and ask to be friends. Of course he knows he wouldn’t have the confidence to actually try and get closer to Ogerpon, especially not when she’s already got someone she likes (someone who’s strong while he’s weak, which is clearly what matters to her, right). He knows he’ll just spend the whole time watching Ogerpon obviously like you way more than him while not being able to do a thing about it, and it’ll just make him feel even more jealous and left out.

(Trust me, as someone with social anxiety who spent a lot of my childhood being low-key outcasted by my so-called friend groups, I get it. When you’ve lived like that, integrating yourself with new people can feel downright impossible, no matter how much you may want it.)

So Kieran doesn’t come on the mission – but it’s not like he just uselessly sulks around, either. He spends the time doing something else to help Ogerpon, something neither you nor Carmine seemingly thought needed to be done: telling the town the truth that she was never a bad guy. Because of course Kieran understands best just how hard it is for Ogerpon to be shunned and outcast by everyone, and of course he has some Strong Feelings that people deserve to be told the truth, hmm I wonder where that might have come from. This task is really difficult and scary for him, too, because he hates talking to people – but he does it anyway, for Ogerpon’s sake! What a brave lad!

(I’ve seen people side-eye the fact that the villagers accept the truth and turn around their view of Ogerpon so easily, but honestly it doesn’t seem unreasonable to me. I get the mask maker way back when being persecuted because the villagers of the time saw Ogerpon kill the Three and made assumptions, but, like, it’s been generations. All of the witnesses who had that emotional gut reaction to the fight are long dead. Most of the people alive today didn’t even truly believe the story of the ogre was real until the Loyal Three showed up – they just thought it was a fun folktale that gives their village some unique culture. So for them to be told “hey, the ogre is real, but also the story’s backwards and the ogre’s actually the good guy”… so what? I was always sceptical of Grandpa’s conviction that the truth must never be told to the village (because… people will get angry that they were lied to? So therefore you should just keep lying to them so they never find out they have something to be angry about? Yes, great tactic, it worked so well on Kieran). Kieran basically just went and proved that there really was nothing to be worried about all along and the people should have been told the truth ages ago.)

His final chance to be strong

So now we reach the end, where Ogerpon makes it clear that she wants to stay with you, and… and even though he must have seen this coming, Kieran can’t accept it happening without trying to fight against it.

This isn’t even really about Kieran wanting Ogerpon’s friendship in and of itself. It’s more about what the concept of being partners with Ogerpon means to him. This whole time, he’s been obsessed with the ogre, and yet only letting himself imagine that maybe one day when he’s stronger, he could be its friend. He’s fixated on the idea of befriending Ogerpon as something that will mean he’s strong and no longer alone and everything is good now. Obviously this is extremely irrational and not necessarily true nor the sole way to fix his problems, but that’s how things are in Kieran’s head.

And so, with recent events making him feel even more weak and outcast than ever, you being effortlessly strong and cool enough to befriend Ogerpon on top of everything else feels to Kieran like it’s about to take away his one chance to turn things around, forever. Of course he can’t just let that happen without at least trying to have things his way. He says right at the beginning of the battle: “I know you’re probably a better trainer for Ogerpon, but I… I…” – and he can’t even voice the end of that sentence. He can’t put into words why he feels like he needs to become Ogerpon’s partner even though he knows he's being selfish and she’d be better off with you, because it’s not based in any conscious logic and is all just one big subconscious irrational mess of his issues and inferiority complex.

I’ve seen a lot of people condemn Kieran for this part, saying that he’s ignoring Ogerpon’s wishes because he’s planning to force her to join him whether she wants to or not if he wins. However, I firmly disagree that Kieran has any such thing in mind here. Remember, he’s still labouring under the misconception that what Ogerpon cares about most is strength. He thinks she likes you so much because you’re so strong (remember the previous time he battled you in front of the den, where he commented that the ogre must be thinking how strong you are if it’d seen that?), and that she refused the mask from him that one time because he’s weak. So Kieran has convinced himself that if he can prove himself to be stronger than you, by defeating you in a battle while Ogerpon’s watching, then she’ll naturally choose him to be her trainer over you. Right?

When Carmine says that he has to consider Ogerpon’s feelings, Kieran’s simply silent for a moment before saying “…I want to battle anyway.” He’s not denying that Ogerpon’s choice is what matters – he just believes, or is at least trying to believe, that her choice will be determined by this battle. And of course he doesn’t say anything like “Ogerpon will choose me if I’m stronger than you”, because – well, perhaps because a lot of this is also subconscious enough that he can’t articulate it, but even if any of it was conscious, he knows it’d sound stupid. Especially the part where he’d be talking like it’s possible for him to beat you, because deep down, he still completely convinced that’s impossible.

Plus, nowhere in this does Kieran bring up the fact that he told the village the truth about Ogerpon as a point in his favour for why she might choose him – which supports that it’s not about any kind of friendly gestures to him and he’s convinced she’ll make her decision entirely based on strength. (And it also proves that he did that out of a genuine desire to help Ogerpon, without any ulterior motives of trying to get her to like him!)

Just before the battle, he says: “Whoever wins gets to be Ogerpon’s partner… So don’t… don’t you dare hold back!” – making a point of demanding you don’t hold back, even though you might think he’d want any advantage he can get towards supposedly winning Ogerpon’s favour. But this makes perfect sense when you realise what this is about to Kieran. He believes that Ogerpon will choose (and deserves to choose) whichever of you is the strongest, and this battle won’t actually prove that if he only wins because you were holding back against him.

Kieran also thanks you for not holding back when you land your first super effective hit, which I enjoy. He’s so used to being patronised and seen as weak and pathetic, so he’s actually glad that you’re taking him seriously and viewing him as a legitimate opponent.

And, hey, he is! His team is pretty stacked: a full six Pokémon with solid movesets, and even strategic held items (at least in the postgame version). Assuming you’re not over-levelled, it’s quite a challenging fight, as it should be. Kieran is trying so, so hard to be strong enough, because this poor kid has convinced himself that all of his problems and pain are due to him being weak, and he is so desperate to fix that by proving himself even stronger than you, strong enough to win Ogerpon’s favour.

When he loses, he just crumples, and it’s heartbreaking. Kieran had so much more riding on this battle than just befriending Ogerpon – this was what felt like his one and only chance to stamp out the part of him that feels crushingly inferior and like he deserves to be treated like dirt. Guhhh.

And of course the first thing out of his mouth is, “Figures.” His inferiority complex runs so deep that, no matter how hard he’d trained and how genuinely really good his team had grown, he never truly believed that he ever had a chance at beating someone as cool and strong as you. He was just desperately trying to convince himself that he at least had a shot, because he couldn’t bear to give up without trying.

I really wish you could tell Kieran how good he was in this battle! It truly is impressive how much better he’s grown at battling since the first one, in such a short space of time, too. Just because he’s not quite as strong as you doesn’t mean he’s weak, not by a long shot. But nobody tells him any such thing, so Kieran continues to view things in that irrationally all-or-nothing way. He lost, so he's weak, end of.

Then he has to stand there and watch you battle Ogerpon in order to catch her. Before all of this happened, Kieran would have been so stoked to see his hero the ogre showing off just how cool and strong she is – and hey, her powers really are pretty awesome to behold! But here, despite the amazing spectacle in front of him, Kieran just looks supremely awkward. Like he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be here. Like he doesn’t even have the right to get to see Ogerpon’s full strength in all its glory. You’re the only one who’s strong enough to have earned this.

He does make one possible comment during the battle, if you land a critical hit on Ogerpon: “You really are good… I’m no match.” Which is a bit excessive, considering that really anyone is capable of critting Ogerpon if they get lucky – but apparently Kieran’s thoughts during this battle are still incredibly hung up on just how strong you are and how he’ll never be able to measure up to you. This goes to show that his issues at this point have shifted to be more about you than about Ogerpon. Which tracks, since his admiration for the ogre was never quite about Ogerpon herself and was more about what her strength represented to him – and now you’ve come along and given him an even bigger example of impossibly cool strength, in a much more painful way.

Once you’ve captured Ogerpon, Kieran manages to awkwardly congratulate you on it – hey, he’s doing his best not to be a sore loser! – laments once again why he can’t be like you, and then runs off. No doubt he’s feeling a huge heap of uncontainable painful emotions that he does not want to show in front of you or Carmine and needs to go let out in private. This kid is Not Okay.

So, in summary: Kieran comes out of all this with the message that all of his pain and suffering and loneliness is his fault because he’s still too weak, and he will only ever be strong enough to put all that behind him once he’s stronger than you. And to do that, he needs to get so, so much stronger, almost impossibly so, no matter what he has to do to achieve it. I’m sure this will be Just Fine leading into The Indigo Disk. (: (: (:

And one last thing: the game doesn’t let this happen, but if Kieran had won that final battle against you, I believe things might actually have turned out better. Because let’s face it, Ogerpon would probably still have chosen to go with you anyway, and if she had, Kieran would have been forced to face the fact that it was never actually about strength to her. It wouldn’t even be that hard for him to understand that, given that he’d already noticed the indications that she was scared of being shunned by the townspeople and that she liked you because you made her feel safe. This would help Kieran recontextualise things a little and stop focusing so unhealthily on gaining more battling strength as the One Thing that will solve all his problems. He still wouldn’t exactly be suddenly fixed and happy, but… things wouldn’t be quite so bad, at least. Alas, you are Too Protagonist to lose and let that happen.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #kieran pokemon #pokemon kieran #the teal mask #the hidden treasure of area zero #ogerpon #pokemon carmine #character analysis #my buttons #ramble #kieran did nothing wrong #he is just a suffering kid with bad coping mechanisms #because nobody has taught him healthy ones

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