#I just honestly prefer if we don’t have to talk at all after all this

[my-castles-crumbling]

I have a problem Cas… I think im in love. 

Okay so, there’s this girl. We’ve been best friends like 5 years. I mean i’ve always- okay I don’t know how to explain this. 

I’m basically a fan-fiction come to fucking life. 

So i’m Demisexual, and last year I decided to come out to my family. I don’t know if other Demi ppl have preferences of gender, but I don’t. Honestly labels confuse me. I’m not sure if technically i’m Biromantic and Demisexual but hey, the point is- and what I explained to my family- that i’d be open to dating anyone. 

Basically i was telling them I wasn’t straight. (Obviously Demisexual is also about sexual activities and people and stuff but I wasn’t gonna try and explain to my parents that I don’t really get attracted to random ppl- cause they don’t get it- and I didn’t want to accidentally start talking abt sex). 

So anyway, they were not happy. Have you watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine? There’s this clip where the character Rosa comes out as Bi and her parents are like “That’s okay, since you can still date a man and marry a man and be normal” and they were like that for me (i’m a girl in case that wasn’t obvious- so they wanted me to date a man).

And I didn’t really care to be honest. I had an equal level of straight friends to queer friends, I felt suitably in both worlds. I truly love my family. They’ve always been good to me. But they did imply if I did end up with a girl, they wouldn’t want to meet/know her.

Not to mention the religious trauma. I spent a shit ton of time listening to ppl tell me that same-sex marriage and relationships are a “sin”. Hell- there was this one rlly lovely women at church when I was like 9, but she got kicked out when they congregation found out she was a lesbian. (Okay- not kicked out but like bullied into leaving).

So it was fine for me to accept that I could potentially date a women since i’ve never felt immediate attraction to anyone, it never felt totally real. 

BUT NOW I HAVE A PROBLEM. So my best friend (who is also a girl) of 5 years. She’s amazing. She’s literally the funniest person i’ve ever met, she’s so generous and has helped me so much, and she’s just adorable. She’s like fucking sunshine. And ngl, I don’t often like people who are so cheery all the time because it feels fake and I like people around me to be honest. 

But she just, she has this way of finding the beauty in the stupidest things and it’s so cute. We got splashed by a car the other day, drenched both our outfits, and instead of being mad, she got all excited and had us do a photoshoot in our crazy soaked clothes, and then got all excited that we could cuddle under a duvet and watch a movie with snacks once we got home cause apparently that’s the only acceptable thing people can do after being covered in water (which is exactly what we did).

And she’s not unreasonably happy, you know? Like when people try to cheer people up at bad times and make everyone more sad, she’s not like that. Whenever i’m upset, or mad, she’ll doodle these cute little flowers on coloured paper and write things she loves about the world on the back of them, and once i’m done ranting abt how annoying the world is, she’ll give it to me and smile. She has the best smile.

I have this jar, I write the date on them and put the paper in the jar. 

We’ve been best friends five years, she started doing that like four years ago and i’ve had the jar pretty much from the start. 

It’s always been easy to be around her. We sort of knew each other for like a year, and then I blinked, and we were best friends. I read all the books she gives me even though the plot is super cheesy cause she loves talking about them, I learnt how to bake all her favourite snacks her mum made, cause she’s pretty far from home and honestly a tragic baker. And she cooks dinner (don’t ask how she can’t bake to save her life but is the most incredible cook, it’s unbelievably ridiculous) for us a lot, she learnt to make my fav food. 

We technically live together, we’re at the final year of uni (maybe not tho depending on our next courses, I dunno) so we’ve been living together this year, but before that, I basically spent most of my time around her place anyway.

So yeah, we’re friends. But I realised a few months ago that i’m pretty, definitely, in love with her. I think i’ve felt like this for about a year and it just hadn’t quite clicked yet. 

(I had this awful day and came back to our place to see her genuinely painting our wall a different colour of white. She paints as a hobby and accidentally splatter a ton of blue paint on the wall and freaked out and tried buying white paint to cover it when it wouldn’t wash of and she was sat on the floor with white paint all over her and the wall still blue. 

She told me the story and I burst out laughing. I explained you often need white primer first, to cover the blue, and then to buy the correct shade of white, since ours was sort of chill white and she’d bought bright white. 

It’s the type of thing that would’ve annoyed me so much at the end of such a tough day, but because it was her, I just found it adorable. That’s when it clicked, I love her. She noticed I was tired immediately and felt bad cause she realised i’d had a bad day. I said this cheered me up, cause it did. Then we made dinner together and spent the night reading on the sofa with music on. 

We went to the shop the next day to get the correct stuff and luckily our wall is back to looking almost exactly the same). 

So yeah, I love her. Plus like, being demi, I don’t usually find ppl attractive… I mean i’ve always known she’s aesthetically pleasing, she has good fashion sense and stuff, but like, I tend to view all people as the same sort of level of attractive. BUT NOW ITS LIKE- SHES FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. It’s kind of annoyingly actually. How is everyone not spending all day gazing at her eyes. They’re fucking caramel, like a book character. She says they’re brown but she’s wrong. In dull lighting they seem brown but they’re like dark orange (amber i guess) with little hues of green, but in the sun they’re really bright and caramel and warm. 

She’s a lesbian btw. So theoretically I’ve got a shot. Also, i’ve always been good at reading people and I know she’s had like a small crush on me at least twice in our friendship. You can tell sometimes. 

But recently, it’s been a wreck. I’m so distracted cause i’m in love with her I can’t think, and my friends keep telling me she loves me back but I can’t keep my head on straight long enough to try and tell. 

But. If I do get my head out of my ass and tell her and she does end up wanting to date me, what the fuck am I supposed to do then. Cause if it does work out, i’m pretty sure it’ll last. 

My parents never totally liked her (they probably saw this coming- but I think in the homophobic, all queer ppl date each other, way and not the, they’re meant to be together, way) and if ended up having to tell them i’m actually dating a women, they’d be pissed. 

I always thought i’d end up with man, since it’s easier. No religious guilt about that. But I can put aside my own brains stupidity for her. But I can’t change my parents. But aside from this, they’re literally amazing. But I also know them and I truly don’t think they’ll change.

All my friends having been saying me and her should’ve been dating this entire time. I don’t know, I like to think now would be kinda perfect. I always knew she was gonna be in my life forever, I guess I just got so used to imagining myself with a man I forgot she was an option? That I could be with her romantically forever. You know, assuming she wants to date me.

(We’ll see about that. I’m really not sure. But i’m totally shit at keeping my own secrets so i’m planning to tell her soon if not just for the sake of my own sanity. All my friends say she’ll reciprocate, if she doesn’t, then I guess i’ll go from there, she’s not the type to be weird or bothered that we live together despite it. And if she does… then I have to decide what to do next. My other best friend is literally always right when it comes to our friends dating lives, and she has faith we’ll end up together, so we’ll see I guess) 

But if she does. If she does I’ll have to get into it with my family. I don’t want to lie to them. And I know I shouldn’t judge, but I honestly don’t think they’ll change their minds. I think they’ll say I can come visit whenever, but not bringing my partner. And I won’t want that. And we’ll all argue.  

I never liked knowing my parents didn’t accept this side of me, but I guess I never considered it would be an actual problem i’d have to deal with someday. 

I spend a lot of my time trying to figure myself out. I haven’t had the easiest path in life. But with her, it’s so easy. It’s easier to understand what I like, it’s easier to talk about things, and I fully trust her not to be weird. Or leave. Or get mad for nothing. I don’t have to walk on eggshells around her. I trust her. We don’t argue much. We have, what she calls, three different type of arguments. 

One, “bad mood argues”. She finds it so hilarious that it rhymes. You have to say it with the syllables. Bad-Mood Ar-Gues. We have these cookies in the freezer that we make every month. If one of us is having a bad day, we cook a few cookies to eat and I bought this dumb fridge magnet of a cookie to put on the fridge to signify it’s a cookie worthy bad day. 

Another one is “justifiable anger”. That doesn’t happen much. When we first met, she had this tendency to not tell me when I did something that upset her, and it’d spiral, and i’d be mad she wasn’t talking about why she was mad. So we have a rule to always talk about problems, even the little things. For example, her yelling into the phone to her family for hours while i’m trying to study- she has planned days now, so I can go to the library or she can go out if necessary, or keep the convo below 45 min, her mums like half deaf so she does have to shout, but it’s also VERY loud. Basically we comprise. And make sure no anger builds up.

The third type of argument is, what our friends call, “married idiots”. As in, she shouldn’t use the siri talk thingy while driving cause it never understands what she’s trying to say and so I get jumbled texts that mean nothing and then she thinks she’s told me something she hasn’t told me. She’s nearly understanding that one 🤦‍♀️ And you know, the classic colour of something argument (it’s purple- she’s wrong).  

Anyway. I forgot my point. Oh yeah, everything’s easier with her. I feel comfortable. If i’m being totally honest… i’m pretty sure if I ask her out, she’ll say yes. Like 80% sure. Im just scared to fuck this up, and cause family problems. Cause yeah, she’s worth the drama, but also, it’s her that’ll be being insulted right? She very likely won’t be allowed in my house. I don’t want this to ruin what we already have. 

So yeah. That. I could really do with some advice ❤️

Hi <3

If you do not ask this girl out, I will physically pass away.

Like...I'm not usually so pushy with asks, but you're describing a relationship, hon. This is a relationship. I'm not sure if you follow me because of the Marauders, but you two are literally Wolfstar, And I'm shipping the two of you so hard right now.

If, for some insane reason, she turns you down, it's because she doesn't realize she's in love with you, too.

As far as your family...again, I'm going to be more blunt that usual. You're going to have to face their lack of acceptance for you at some point. It's absolutely shit that they don't accept you, but like...don't let that stop you from being with this girl. Because even if you put off their feelings now, you'll have to deal with it someday, and then you might miss out on an amazing girl.

Please update me. I need updates. I am so invested. I am DYING for updates.

God, I'm rereading all the things you wrote and I'm kicking and giggling. You two are ridiculously adorable. Please kiss her already (with consent).

I'm naming you purple anon. Please write back.

#ask #asks #ask cas #purple anon

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

#simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #cod x reader #call of duty smut #cod smut #141 headcanons #headcanon #drabble

[sugoi-and-spice]

Vox Relationship Headcanons

Time to strike the iron while the hyperfixation is HOT!

(I mean come ON . Look at this fucking evil dork. I love him).

SFW

It goes without saying that Vox is HUGE on appearances. He does not make his relationships public lightly. His brand as one of the V’s after all is perfection, and he’s not going to go out arm and arm with a person unless they know that.

That being said, especially given his on again off again relationship with Valentino, I could absolutely see him as being the type to fall for a hot mess. 

A very different person with his partner in front of and behind the scenes. When the cameras are off, he’s warm, affectionate, and vulnerable. He’ll share his every insecurity with you, strip himself bare to the bone for you to love and comfort truly and honestly. And he’s an excellent listener too, always available to hold and talk through any problem you have. Your problems are his problems — you’ll work through them together.

When in the public eye however, he can be a downright prick — putting everything, and I do mean everything between you two on the backburner to keep up appearances. He will not hesitate to make jokes at your expense if it means his ratings will go up.

Fights with him are explosive. No, he’s not the type to lay a hand on you, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that he can scream at you within an inch of your life.

Words of Affirmation and Gift Giving are his primary love languages. Specifically, he needs words of affirmation and he loves to give gifts. And holy shit does he give the most uncomfortably lavish gifts. Diamonds, rolexes, new cars — no price is too high for his darling.

Surprisingly, he prefers home dates. Watching a movie on the couch or having a little game night with a bottle of wine. He does genuinely enjoy the authentic time you spend together and he wishes he could have more of it, so the more he can get of that private, intimate time together, the better.

And while he is a man of the future, so theoretically should like video games, I do think he has a certain soft spot for a good old-fashioned board game.

When it comes to video games though, he does tend to gravitate to phone games. 

Vox is from the 1950’s so I do think he prefers a more nuclear family and relationship dynamic. He wants to bring home the bacon and have his partner ready to fry it up in a pan with a dirty martini ready and waiting for him. That being said, he is a man that always looks to the future as well, so he’s by no means above doing chores of his own. At the end of the day, this desire for more traditional relationship roles really comes from a place of needing to be doted on rather than any views he actually has about gender.

The man’s a sucker for a good massage from his partner. This wired up workaholic has knots that you can’t even imagine, so please, offer him a nice bankrupt at the end of the day. He’ll be sure to return the favor tenfold.

A very lovey-dovey drunk. Oh my GOD, he’s so touchy-feely and weepy and just all the y’s. You want a guaranteed cuddle-wuddle session? Load him up with a couple glasses of scotch — you’ll have those chords coiling around you.

And yes, his alcohol of choice is scotch. Scotch, dirty martinis, or a nice oaky chardonnay.

This man wants to get married. Yes, even if he is in hell, the idea of not having to worry about who his next lay or source of connection will come from, having someone that will stand by his side through thick and thin, a partner? Now that’d be the (after)life.

NSFW

BIG fucking praise kink. This man NEEDS you to stroke more than just his bod and his cock, he needs you to stroke his ego too.

“God you’re so good”, “FUCK, you’re so big”, “Nobody can make me feel this way but you, Vox”.

Don’t worry, it’s not just for his own ego. He loves to give praise as much as he receives it. This man is a TALKER in the sack.

“Fuck, fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking good, just like thaaaaat.”

He’s also got a little bit of a degradation kink — but in general, it still feeds into stroking his own ego. Loves to tease and taunt his partner once in a while about what a horny little slut they are, how he loves to see them so desperate and pathetic. Asking his partner, “you’d have anyone right now, wouldn’t you?” just for them to assure him that no, nobody but him will do.

On that note, the man can dish out degrading dirty talk, but he can NOT fucking take it.

Very much a switch. Sure, he loves to fuck, but he’ll just as happily let his partner bend him over his own desk and fuck the shit out of him. A good orgasm is a good orgasm, his ego may be big, but not big enough to get in the way of that.

Big fan of bondage, both on his partner and himself. There are few sights better to him than seeing his partner bound and shibari’d in his own cord and wires, holy shit. But he’ll also never say no when his partner breaks out their own pair of fuzzy handcuffs for him.

He absolutely short-circuits when he cums, so watch out. Sometimes, if he cums hard enough, he may just zap you a bit so watch out.

Favorite position is seated cowgirl. He loves the way he can hold his partner close while ramming as deep into them as possible. Not to mention the fact that either one of them can take over control at any moment. He can thrust up, they can grind down — it’s just the best of all worlds. Not to mention you can do it from his desk chair.

On that note, he’s a big BIG fan of cockwarming. 

LOTS of precum. This HD motherfucker is just a weepy mess.

I can’t explain why, but Vox just seems like an ass man to me.

He’s not necessarily a cuddler after, but he is something of a “savor the moment” kind of guy. He likes to lay in bed (or chair lol) with his partner for a good while afterwards, smoking a cigarette, reveling in some post-nut clarity conversation, just really taking in the moment. His life is so busy at all other times honestly, always looing and speeding to the future. Sex and post-sex are the times where he really does just like to stop and live in the moment.

#vox #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #vox x oc #smut #spice writes

[kennahjune]

Steddie

I’m joining the s3 steddie train :D

…

Steve was late. He was so late and so dead. Robin was going to kill him— he’d never make it out of Scoops Ahoy alive.

This was his thought process after dropping Will Lucas and Max off at Mikes. This was also his thought process the entirety of the way to Scoops while he shoved his way through the mall.

The moment he entered the small shop Robins eyes locked on him in a glare. Steve barely gave her a second before he was going to the back room to get ready for his shift.

He heard the back room door open behind him.

“You’re—“

“24 minutes late I know,” he said as calmly as he could while trying to relax his breathing.

“Yeah and—“

“And you get an extra 25 minutes for your break, yes Robin I know!”

Steve finally closed his employee cubby and turned to look at Robin. “Look. Im sorry I was so late today but Will, Lucas and Max are assholes when they’re being petty and they needed a ride to Mikes cause all the others were busy! I’ll take closing shift today to if you’re really that mad.”

Robin stared at him angrily from the doorway. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms. “And yes, you will be taking the closing shift tonight. I have a study date with a friend that I can’t miss.”

“It’s summer vacation?”

“Shut up!”

Steve shrugged when the door closed.

He closed the door to his employee locker with a little more force than necessary. He had a migraine building and the bright, florescent lights of the mall weren’t helping in the slightest.

He walked out and began his shift.

…

Eddie wanted to enjoy his day off. Preferably by himself. But Gareth and Jeff decided that his personal life was their personal life. So here they were.

He had wanted to spend the day away from the mall, considering that that was where everyone seemed to be nowadays. But the guys were insistent.

So they were walking around. It wasn’t too bad, considering Eddie had gotten himself a new record and tape with his newest paycheck. They were sitting at the fountain when Gareth shouted right in Eddie’s ear:

“HOLY SHIT!”

Eddie just about punched him with how hard he jumped. Jeff spit out his Pepsi all over Eddie.

While Eddie was worrying about getting the sticky drink off of his skin, Gareth continued with; “is that HARRINGTON in Scoops?”

Well. Now he has Eddie’s attention.

Sure enough, just in Eddie’s line of sight, was Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform and a dorky hat.

A dorky hat that was soon snatched up by his current customer, Billy Hargrove.

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and leaned over him to get a better view. “Is that Hargrove?”

“Yep.” Eddie popped the P.

“It looks like he’s messing with Harrington.”

“Yep.” Another pop on the P.

“And Harrington looks like he’s gonna fucking explode.”

Eddie agreed. Harrington was red in the face and not in the cute blushy-way he usually gets (don’t ask why Eddie knows that). He was talking back to Hargrove, probably something bitchy and sarcastic in typical Harrington-fashion based on the way Hargrove seemed to recoil for a moment before jumping back.

“Should we do something?” Gareth asked skeptically. Jeff shrugged where he was pressed against Eddie’s back.

“I’m going in.” Eddie stood and nearly knocked Jeff down in the process.

“Hang on—“

“Nope! Wish me luck, boys!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder while he dashed over. He heard them both get up and follow him.

…

Steve wanted to cry.

His head hurt so fucking bad and his back was killing him and he had ran into a shelf earlier and had a killer bruise on his arm and leg from it and everything was too fucking much.

Then, in all his asshole and dick glory, in came Billy Hargrove.

At this point, Steve would rather take another plate to the head then have to deal with his annoyingly aggravating voice. Hargrove came in, probably expecting Robin to be there, but got Steve instead. And honestly Steve would rather deal with him then leave Robin with him.

So he’s been enduring it, giving his own comments and comebacks but overall hating his life and just wanting to curl up and die.

Then his savior showed up. In all his black leather and chains, Eddie fucking Munson.

Hallelujah.

Hargrove seemed to back down the moment Munson showed up. Which wasn’t too strange considering that Munson supplied over half of Hawkins’ weed supply. Including Steve’s own for a while. He hasn’t bought in a while cause of the brat brigade.

But not the point.

Hargrove nodded to Munson. “Munson.”

Wow. Real cool, Billy. Steve held back a snicker.

“Heeyyy, Hargrove!” Munson cheerily greeted. But there was something about his smile that was off, to Steve. It seemed tighter than usual, his eyes not crinkling with the motion like normal. Don’t ask why Steve knows this.

Munson’s eyes seemed darker, too. Like he was angry. Maybe Hargrove didn’t pay him? Steve couldn’t bother to care with how bad his head started to pound.

He shouldn’t be at work with this migraine. He knows that. His doctor’s told him this multiple times. But he owes it to Robin for being late so much and he needs to prove to his dad that he can take care of himself.

“So what brings you here, Billy?” Munson asks casually, stepping farther into the shop. Steve seems to finally be forgotten about, and he places his head down on the counter. The cooled surface definitely helps with the spinning room.

He hears Hargrove say something back, but he isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are stating to go blurry and he really needs to sit down. But then Munson says something that catches his attention:

“Just leave Harrington alone, man. Last I checked he did nothing to you.”

What the hell? Steve wished he could lift his head and see what Munson was doing. What he looked like when he said that. If he looked as mean as he sounded.

Steve only lifts his head a few moments later when he feels a hand on his back. He shoots up quicker than he intends, and nearly falls back down if not for the hands still holding him up.

“Shit,” he grumbles quietly to himself, whining even quieter at the sudden rush of pain and the black dots in his vision.

“Easy there, your highness.” Munson.

Steve blinks slowly, letting Munson set him down in a booth. He doesn’t remember walking over but he’ll take it. He puts his head back down and intertwines his fingers behind his head. He groans quietly again, the pounding slowly receding.

“Hey man, is there something we could do? Do you need anything?” He heard Munson ask.

We? Steve wants to ask, but finds himself not caring. “Water, and my bag from the back please,” he rasps out. Talking makes the pounding worse.

He hears someone rush off to the back and a moment later a hands on his back again and is helping him sit up.

“Here ya go sweetheart.” Munson slides the glass of water and bag over to him.

Steve silently reaches into his bag and pulls out his small “to-go” med-kit. He carries it around mainly for the kids. Mike tends to be clumsier than he comes off as and Max is always trying out some new skateboarding tricks. From inside the kit he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows 2 with the water and goes for another 2 before a hand stops him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take more than 2.” This voice is new but familiar. Steve squints past the blurriness and makes out someone he recognizes from school; Gareth Emerson.

“4,” Steve manages past the lump in his throat. Munson, Emerson, and someone else Steve doesn’t quite know look at him. Munson continues to hold Steve’s hand on the table, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It weirdly intimate but the comfort is very welcome.

“4 what?” The other guy asks.

“4 pills. I usually take 4.”

Munson and Emerson both wince. The third guy looks at him like he’s insane. Steve finally recognizes him as Jeff,… something. He actually never got his last name.

“Dude— are you trying to overdose!?”

Steve winced at the sudden loudness, whining quietly. Munson shushed Jeff and Steve heard him rush out an apology.

The bell over the door dinged at that moment, and Steve found himself face to face with Max, Mike, Will, Lucas, and— for some reason— Jonathan.

“Uh— hi?” Steve attempted for a greeting.

“‘Hi!?’” Mike yelled. “Hi yourself man! We called your walkie at least 4 times!! What the hell?”

“Are you ok? Why didn’t you answer?” Will asked in a much quieter tone.

Lucas and Max wasted no time before slotting themselves in the booth with Steve. Munson remained across from Steve, and Emerson and Jeff now hovered farther away, but Lucas slid right in next to Munson and Max next to Steve.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Max demanded. But she clung to his shirt tightly.

“Language, Mayfield,” he reprimanded quietly.

Mike paused where he stood. “Why are you talking so quietly? Shit— do you have a migraine?”

Suddenly 4 pairs of little eyes were gazing at him with unmasked concern. Holy shit was this overwhelming.

“Guys—“

“Why didn’t you say that, Steve?” Lucas asked.

“Are you ok? How long has it been going on for? Asked Will.

“Why are even here if you’re not able to function properly?” Mike reprimanded in his own caring-ness.

Max clutched to him tighter. “Why aren’t you at home? You could’ve called in sick or something!”

“Shhh!” Mike shushed her.

“Don’t shush me—“

“Shut up!” He whisper shouted. “You have to be quiet and try to control your temperature while resting in a dark, quiet room to try and help with migraines. Pain killers help to but no more than 3.”

Everyone stared at him. He went a little pink under the sudden attention.

“Nancy gets migraines a lot from reading in the dark.”

Jonathan came over right then. Steve was suddenly overwhelmed by all the people surrounding him.

“Uhm—“

“Hey,” Munson called. Steve forgot about him for a good moment. “This is cute and all, but maybe we should not surround him? Poor boy looks like he’s gonna cry.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Tears had— in fact— sprung to his eyes.

“Sorry!” All the kids rushed out quietly at the same time. Max climbed out of the booth and Munson and Jonathan both assisted with helping Steve to the break room. Jeff and Emerson stayed with the kids, but Mike came with them since he seemed to know what he was doing better than the 3 of them.

On their way back to the room though, Steve’s legs nearly gave out from under him. Shit. It’s one of those days. Munson just barely managed to catch him under the armpits while Jonathan got him by the waist.

“Woah there, sweetheart.” Munson grunted.

“Careful, Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.

“Sorry. Spinning.” Steve exhaled shakily.

Mike came rushing back after realized they weren’t with him. “Damn. Spinning? Are you able to walk? Or are they gonna have to carry you?”

Jonathan looked up at the mention of having to carry Steve. “Yeah— I’m not able to carry him. I am so not strong enough for that.” He had the decency to look apologetic.

Munson chuckled quietly and the sound reverberated through his chest where Steve’s head was. It was soothing.

“Don’t worry Big Byers. I’ve got him no problem.”

Steve was given no warning before he was being picked up in a bridal carry. He winced sharply and laid his head on Munson’s shoulder. Jonathan whistled lowly from somewhere beside them and Steve blindly kicked his leg in his direction, scoring in kicking him in the arm. Jonathan snickered.

…

When Munson chased off Hargrove he didn’t expect for Harrington to all but collapse in on himself and try to fucking overdose on like 5 pain killers. He also hadn’t expected to be bombarded by 4 kids and 1 Jonathan Byers. Least of all did he expect to be carrying Harrington bridal style to the break room of Scoops Ahoy.

Somewhere behind him, Gareth turned the sign on the door to closed. Eddie silently thanked him.

The kid— who he vaguely remembers as Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother— opens the door and startles a half asleep Robin Buckley.

“Hello,” Jonathan throws her way before pulling a chair out for Eddie to sit on.

“Uh— hi? What the hell—“

Eddie takes the seat with Harrington in his lap. Robin looks dumbfounded.

“Migraine,” Jonathan helpfully supplies.

“Really, really bad migraine. Vertigo included. Full package tonight, folks.” Mike adds.

“Ok— um, is he ok? He doesn’t look ok. If it was so bad why didn’t he just call in sick?”

“That’s a good question,” Mike retorts quietly while rooting around in a freezer.

“What are you looking for”, Robin asks.

“Ice pack. The dumbass has everything in that first aid kit of his except a damn ice pack.”

“Language,” Harrington reprimanded quietly from where his cheek was against Eddie’s chest. Eddie chuckled quietly when Mike retorted with a half-assed “sorry”.

Eddie couldn’t help but admire the now sleeping Harrington in his lap. He bent in half like a shrimp, his knees just about to his chest, and his hands gripping tightly onto Eddie’s still-Pepsi-soaked t-shirt. But he looked so at peace while asleep. Like he hadn’t just had the worst migraine Eddie’s ever seen and wasn’t just about to pass out on his feet. Eddie smiled.

Mike comes over silently, managing to sneak up on Eddie and make him jump slightly and causing Harrington to whine. He’d been whining a lot today. And under “different circumstances” Eddie would’ve found it hot as fuck.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He seemed to be able mellow out a lot when he actually tried. He seemed like such an asshole out at the booth but now he seems quieter. These kids really cared about Harrington, huh?

“Here.” Jonathan helped him out and gently picked up Harrington’s head. Eddie caught Harrington actually kind of leaning into his touch. A strange but endearing friendship. Mike placed the ice pack— now wrapped in a cloth— on Eddie’s chest where Harrington’s head lays.

Harrington lays back down and is out like a light soon enough.

Eddie zoned out until there’s a very, very soft knock on the door. When he looks up, Jonathan is letting the other 3 kids in while Jeff and Gareth stand in the doorway.

“Is he ok?” Asks Jonathan’s little brother.

Jonathan nods and pats his head. “He’s ok, Will.”

The redhead walks over and takes a silent seat next to Eddie so she’s next to Harrington. She takes Harrington’s hand in hers and proceeds to just sit there and hold it.

“He’s ok, Max. Just a migraine,” the third kid, Lucas he thinks, reassures with a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“That’s what he said before. And then he was in the hospital.”

Woah, what?

“Hm?” Lucas looks at him.

Oh. He said that aloud.

“Wait what?” Robin asked quietly.

Jonathan’s whistled lowly. It seems to be a bit of a tic for him. “Yeah uh— funny story. Hargrove broke a plate over Steve’s head last year and nobody realized how bad it actually was until he passed out after claiming it was only a migraine.”

“He ended up in the hospital for like 2 weeks,” added Lucas.

“He needed several stitches on the side of his head.” Max unhappily supplied. Lucas squeezed her shoulder.

“It was a stage 4 concussion,” muttered Will and Mike put his head on his shoulder.

Eddie caught Gareth and Jeff’s eyes across the break room. Huh.

The Will kid came up to Eddie suddenly. “Thank you. For uh— helping with Steve. It means a lot to us. He means a lot to us.”

Mike, Max, and Lucas all nodded.

“Hang on,” Lucas piped up. “Who are you?”

…

So uh— set myself up for a part 2 there :’D

Part 2

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #corroded coffin #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie hcs #steddie fics #steddie #steve harrington whump #steve harrington gets killer migraines #the boy has 3 and counting concussions

[wheneclipsefalls]

Little Gift- Tremble

Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Fem Human Reader

Little Gift Masterlist

Beautiful adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2

Summary: This is your last chance to run.

Warnings: aged up Neteyam, NSFW minors do not interact, dark Neteyam, NONCON/DUBCON, spanking, dirty talk, punishment, size difference, etc.

A/N: This one took a little longer than intended with all the life stuff going on, but yay it's here. Also, migt have gotten a little carried away with this part.

The outpost feels like a relic of a different time. One that you have only heard of in stories, but now seeing those worn down bunk beds and the corner of a room that Spider calls his own, it doesn’t feel as glorious. The worst part, however, is how naked you feel around other humans. It’s only a slight comfort that Spider is wearing Na’vi apparel too. 

“Oh and yeah and this is a spear I made in Awalatuu.” Spider says. “But maybe let’s move it out of the way.” He gives an awkward chuckle but it’s obvious that his only concern is you suddenly deciding to use it against him. 

Your arrival at the outpost had been anything but graceful. In hindsight you would have preferred to meet these people face to face instead of over Neteyam’s shoulder. 

“If you want we can uh….watch a movie. Oh yeah I bet I could swipe Norm’s Star Wars collection.” 

You don’t return the smile he gives you, too busy awkwardly sitting on his bed while pouting. You never thought it would feel strange to be back in a place like this but after being around the Na’vi for the past week, the outpost feels like walking into a rundown dollhouse. Everything is your size and nothing is as beautifully crafted as Neteyam’s kelku. 

The awkward silence is slightly painful but you can’t find it within yourself to feel bad for Spider. Not when he hasn’t shown even a morsel of sympathy for your situation. Your own kind and not even they find it important to get you out of here. Not that they could anyways. No doubt Neteyam would view such actions as a betrayal. 

“He wouldn’t let you come along, huh?” You finally ask. 

Spider stops digging through the worn down hard drives. 

“Who?” 

“Neteyam. Didn’t want you coming to see the RDA off either?” 

Spider scoffs at the, leaving the tech behind to cross the small room. 

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m not the one he’s worried about getting into trouble.” 

Spider may not have heightened senses like the Na’vi but you worry that he sees the way your hands ball around the thin blankets.

“So Lo’ak handed the role of babysitter off to you somehow.” You lean back against the cold wall, trying to appear bored by the conversation. 

“Just for today. He was clear that I would only be a substitute.” 

Your brows furrow at that. Maybe Lo’ak doesn’t mind watching over you as much as he lets on. Then again Lo’ak never fails to find your company amusing, and for all the wrong reasons. Some days you wonder if Neteyam would really be cross with you for slapping his brother across the face. Maybe if you batted your lashes and played it off as self defense….

“Well I’m sorry you can’t be there.” 

It’s Spider’s turn to look confused. 

“Why?” 

“Colonel Quaritch is your dad, isn’t he?” 

“That asshole is nothing close to a father.” Spider’s jaw clenches, posturing already shifting to loom over you. He may be human but his six foot frame of striped muscle greatly outweighs your own. 

“Oh trust me, I know. Quaritch has been nothing but a tyrant my entire life. I honestly don’t know how he managed to get back into General Ardmore’s good graces after half the stunts he has pulled. That’s why I was excited for today. Finally see that bastard put in his place.” Spider watches you closely. In some ways it feels like all he is missing he ears and tail of a Na’vi.

“Thought maybe you would want to see that too.” 

You know a good deal about Spider Soccoro. He is a story that is often shared among the recombinants but never in Quaritch’s presence. Many tales have been told of the feral stripped boy that was more trouble than worth. You wonder if the stories would have been different if he hadn’t chosen the Sullys in the end. Still, even with their biased filters you know that they put Spider through hell. 

Kidnapping is traumatic enough without having to watch islands burn and friends cry for justice. 

“I don’t care what happens to that bastard.” Spider huffs before promptly turning around and fishing through the hard drives once more. You’ve killed the already strained mood. 

“Well then you’re a better person than me. Good for you.” Spider doesn’t answer but you can tell he is listening. 

A bitter laugh escapes you. “Hell, I’ve only had to put up with him from a distance and I would ring his neck myself if given the chance.” 

Spider’s fingers fiddle with a blue hard drive, eyes staring down thoughtfully. 

“But I guess I should trust Neteyam to give him what he deserves. Watch that monster tuck his tail and accept his failure for what it is.”  It’s the one cause you consider Neteyam and yourself on the same side of. 

Leaning back, you prop your feet up onto the creaky mattress. 

“Yeah.” He says shortly. 

“Ugh don’t get me started on Lyle though-”

“What are you trying to do?” Spider springs to his feet, glaring daggers down at you. 

“What do-”

“Do you think I’m really that stupid? Neteyam told me you would do this. Trying to spin a story that would allow you to escape.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat. You’re startled by the outburst to say the least but at this point there is nothing to lose. This man you only met fifteen minutes ago is the difference between spending the rest of your days here and returning back to Earth. Neteyam’s punishments are far from being enough to deter you from taking this chance. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to-”

“Would it kill you to just stay out of trouble for this one day? For my sake?” The look he gives you is anything but tender in comparison to his words. 

The bitter taste of impending failure is already settling in. You can already feel the immense weight of this dread and it springs you into action. This can’t be the end. 

It won’t be. 

“Can you really blame me though? For wanting to say goodbye to everything and everyone I have ever known?” 

Spider goes quiet, hazel eyes suddenly avoiding your own gaze. 

“Believe whatever you want but the fact is this day will never repeat. This is literal history and…” You voice quivers, blunt teeth sinking into your bottom lip in restraint. The last barrier to holding the words back. “The last glimpse at my old life.” 

You don’t allow the gravity of those whispered words to plant themselves. This is all a ruse after all. Just enough sadness to get Spider to cooperate and yet saying it out loud feels like tying an anchor to your ankle. Truly realizing how stuck you may be from here on out. 

Spider doesn’t say anything for a long while. Neither of you look at each other, letting the silence sizzle between you. 

And then finally….

“We have to be quick.”

“And no touching anything. I mean it, shit out here can be extremely poisonous.” Spider rattles on, listing yet another rule to follow as the two of you venture through the thick terrain. You roll your eyes. You may not be a match for the creatures of Pandora physically but you’ve studied enough to understand what to stay away from.

“We’re there for five minutes tops, got it?” Spider says as he pushes a hanging branch out of your path. 

“Yes sir.” You salute him playfully. Now that you are less than a mile away from Bridgehead a certain giddiness begins to take over. It swirls together with your nerves and apprehension but it doesn’t deter you. This is the closest you have been to freedom in a week. 

Eywa’s mightiest creatures could not keep you from your goal. 

Years down the road when you wake up from kyro this will all be some awful dream that embeds itself into your revenge arch. Starting with Miles Quaritch of course. 

“I’m being serious. Neteyam will kill me if he sees you out here. I’m sticking my neck out for you.” 

“It will be worth it.” You say simply, a skip in your step when you recognize the familiar path that leads back to Bridgehead. This the same one you had carved deeper with every trip you had taken to your oasis. Looking back there is nothing more you regret but the sight of it still makes you smile. 

Spider never stops his stern rambling. Despite the fact that he is built like a Greek God, his speeches do little to intimidate you. Not when you’re used to nine feet of solid muscle and sharp canines. 

There is a bank that overhangs Bridgehead. A spot that Spider deems the perfect lookout for the two of you. You consider trying to convince him to get the two of you closer. After all, what good is a farewell that can’t be heard? Truth is, there really aren’t many people you would bother trying to say goodbye to. Jeremy moved on from you months ago, you have very little friends outside of that and what little you did have can be nothing but traitors by letting you get offered up without complaint. 

It feels like a risky move, however. Spider is sure to catch wind of your deception at the first hints of you disobeying.

“Here,” Spider mutters, suddenly pulling your arm so you stand directly in front of him. This leaves you sandwiched between the cliff’s edge and Spider’s tall frame. 

“Hey!” You snip at him, ripping your arm from his hold. 

“This way I can keep a close eye on you.” He smirks, hands resting confidently on his hips because he knows as well as you that his physical prowess greatly outweighs your own. It’s clear his trust is far from being earned. 

“Well do you have to breathe down my neck? Christ! I could use some space.” 

“No chance.” Spider responds shortly but his eyes are already scanning the crowd of RDA members below. 

“Neteyam doesn’t really take kindly to others sniffing around me.” 

You hate to play that card but it seems to be the only one you have in your deck and if you have any chance of getting out of here, Spider can’t be pressed up against you. A harsh glare is thrown down at you but with knitted brows and a fierce frown, the male takes a few steps back. It isn’t much, surely his presence will still be your first obstacle, but it’s a start. 

Every minute that passes by feels like torture. You watch as palettes of heavy equipment and artillery are rolled along the concrete with Na’vi supervising. Each one packed away is a signal of passing time, another stream of sand that falls through your hourglass of opportunity. The real nerves, however, kick in when the line of RDA members are escorted onto the ship. 

How long is it going to take them to load everyone?

How long until your hopes are dashed?

You spot Neteyam taking his place at the head. He is dressed up in his traditional Olo’eyktan gear completely with a feathered mantle and oval forehead jewelry, but this time he holds a gun. He holds it with confidence, finger strategically placed over the barrel and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. His golden eyes spark today like fire. Even from your lookout spot from above, you can feel that darting heat. 

You pray that they never fall on you again. 

Spider shifts over your shoulder suddenly, blonde dreads ticking your neck. You scramble out of his space but instead of jerking you into place as you expect, he takes your spot at the front. Brows knitting together, you watch him carefully as he crawls forward. 

Finally you spot what has captured his undivided attention. 

Colonel Miles Quaritch sternly leads his band of mutants through the crowd. They tower so high over the rest of the Sky People the sight is almost comedic. However, Spider is doing anything but laughing. His mask fogs up as he watches the scene with intensity. 

It’s like he is dead to the world, eyes trained on the man that has been anything but a father to him. 

You expect him to cheer, snarl, anything that shouts of victory. It was promises of seeing karma after all that had bought you this outing but Spider is silent and still. And then there is something else that flashes over his demeanor, a pang of emotion that is hard for you to place. 

Pain?

Hatred? 

Guilt? 

This swirl of tangled feelings is confusing.

Perhaps there is still so much more to learn about Spider Socorro. 

Regardless, this is your chance and you plan to take it. Tension bleeding into the moment you watch Spider diligently while beginning to back away. It feels as if the world’s ambience has been muffled into background noise and the only sound breaking through is the obnoxious puff of each breath through your mask. Neteyam hadn’t given you the serum shot this morning, assuming you would be spending the whole day in the outpost. Now, however, you wish he had. 

Spider is so enveloped in the moment, however, that he gives no recognition of the sound or even branch you clumsily snap when backing down from the cliff’s edge. 

There is no telling how long this trance will last or at what point you will be out of ear shot so you risk it all. 

Bare feet tingling in protest, you race across the forest floor. There’s no sign of an easy and stealthy way down into Bridgehead. Going back down your normal path would risk Spider spotting you race by. That’s not an option but neither is falling to your death. On the east side the cliff shallows out into a grassy hill. If you’re lucky enough you might just be able to creep down it and remain hidden beneath the heavy greenery. 

Upon reaching it, however, you step on loose dirt and the world rapidly spins around you. With neither a hint of grace or stealth you clumsily roll down the hill. Your muscles ache by the time you clunk to the bottom and you’re sure there are other injuries to be found. Adrenaline dulling the pain and panic, you dart to hide in the nearest bush instantly. 

The scene is so much louder now that you are up close. Heavy trucks make blaring beeping sounds while reversing and Na’vi freely let out loose cries of victory and foreign threats. The commotion is just enough to have your presence remain undetected. 

You don’t bank on that lasting for long though.

Your scanty traditional Na’vi attire is sure to draw attention. You need different clothes and you need it fast. Scaling around the outskirts of the chaos, you miraculously manage to make it to that familiar run down door. Sector two-your building. 

Paranoia constantly scraping at your attention, you barely let the room equalize before ripping your mask off. These hallways feel so different than you remember them. Perhaps it is the feel of the metal floors beneath bare feet or the lacking furniture and crowd. It sends a chill up your spine as you sprint towards your room. 

How much time do you have?

They can’t have loaded more than half of the crew by now.

And yet, the sight of deserted halls makes your feet slap against the floor faster. 

Get dressed. Immerse yourself in the crowd. Hide until take off is through and then find a kyro capsule.

You mentally check through this list. 

Piece of cake. 

Maybe saying it out loud would make it sound less like a fool’s hope. 

Fuck it. The odds don’t matter and neither do your nerves. This is a necessity, pure survival and that will be enough to keep you going. It will because it has to. 

Your feet slip across the laminated floor when you frantically scramble to go back the way you came. Two tall and ominous shadows wrap from around the opposite corner and you are afforded just enough time to dart behind a wall before Lyle and Z Dawg appear. 

“You’re an idiot.” She says. 

“Yeah yeah say whatever you want but don’t pretend like you wouldn’t rip someone in half for a Big Mac right now.” Lyle defends himself, their shadows now paint the dimly lit corridor, stretching closer and closer to your tucked away spot.

You could run, but these are recombinants. They would pick up the sound of your footsteps in an instant. The wind from your sprint would carry your scent. 

“Sure, but I asked what your first meal back on Earth would be, not what your guilty pleasure fast food order is.” 

“These savages can keep their overgrown weeded garden of a planet. I want some fucking chicken nuggets!” 

As their voices become louder it appears that running will be your only choice after all. 

“I don’t even know why I ask at this point.” She sighs and a short hiss echoes down the hallway. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, feet repositioning as you prepare yourself to run. If you were smart you would have already been halfway down the hallway at this point but some part of you refuses to move. It clings to hope foolishly. 

“Well I’m sure-”

“Shut up asshole. The comm.” Z Dawg hisses and they both turn silent, no doubt listening to the orders on the other end. 

Your hands are shaking now, that tremor traveling up your shoulders as you await their response. 

“Copy that.” Lyle says and then the sound of heavy boots recedes into the distance. 

You can hardly believe your luck. 

That dark cloud of dread ripples away and hope takes its place once more. Maybe you can pull this off after all. 

Your room is exactly as you left it. No one has bothered to pack up any of your things or even dispose of your half folded laundry. This tiny corner of a shared living space has been your own for your whole life, everything you have known. It feels so small now. 

Rifling through the laundry basket you find a loose green tee and a pair of  tan shorts. You originally had a whole outfit planned for this day, something comfortable but nice. Those garments are, however, still crumpled up on the ground. This will have to do. 

As you hastily slip them over the beaded jewelry and tewng you pray to whatever god will listen that this will be enough to keep you incognito. You are barely finished buttoning up the shorts when heavy footsteps ring down the hallway. 

Their echo is soft, no doubt still several halls away but they are progressively getting louder. Now is not the time to take any more risks. This room is tiny and already cramped with scattered junk. Hiding under your bed would not only be idiotic but near impossible with the way your creaky bed  swoopes so low to the ground. There is, however, an old built-in cabinet above that you’ve used to hold your clothes. 

It’s just barely big enough for you to squeeze into so with those footsteps getting louder and your own terror sky rocketing, you push everything out of it and shove your body into the metal space. The door has metal slots with just enough slant to allow your visual through it. 

Your clammy right hand presses over your mouth when the door to the room creaks open.

Neteyam strolls in leisurely, eyes sweeping over the cramped space with interest. With wide eyes and strangled lungs, you watch him prowl through the area slowly. He bends down to run his fingers over the rumbled sheets, the back of his hand lingers over your pillow case. 

He takes his time looking through the various knick knacks and cords littering your night stand. He doesn’t hesitate to ball the old picture of Jeremy into his fists. Its remains are tossed to the side without care. 

Did he toss the real Jeremy like that?

You make a vow to find him as soon as you make it on board. 

Assuming Neteyam hasn’t already hunted him down. 

You could look for whatever is left of Jeremy.

You can’t think about that now, though. Not as your heart is pounding against your ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Not when Neteyam lifts his mask for a sip of air as he plays with your tiny music box. 

He is gentle with all of your belongings, roaming through the area like a man that doesn’t have hundreds of Sky People to threaten off of his planet. Surely, he will have to leave soon. He’s just here out of curiosity, more of his stalker tendencies pushing him to invade your space. 

The music box looks like a Christmas ornament in his palm and you worry that he will accidently crush it. It was a pain in the ass to get and a possession you have always treasured because of that. Neteyam’s ears push forward when he finally figures out how to start the music and that delicate ballerina begins to twirl. 

“Maybe it’s all of your silly trinkets.” He breaks the silence, you startle slightly. He can’t be talking to you, you remind yourself. Neteyam thinks he is alone, just nosing through your old room as he thinks out loud. “Is that what you miss so much? What has you running off and acting naughty, little gift?” 

He’s bluffing. There is no way he could know you are here. Your scent has to be strong in the room but that’s to be expected since this was your living space. Ironically this should be the perfect place to hide away. 

“You know,” He starts, carefully placing the music box back down. “I was planning on letting you bring some of these funny things back to our kelku once you start behaving. A little incentive to be my good girl.” 

The knot in your throat is near impossible to gulp down and when you do, his ears twitch. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You tug your legs closer to your chest as if you can contort yourself into a small enough ball that will magically disappear. 

“But it’s obvious now that you respond better to retribution than reward.” 

It’s a miracle that your lip doesn’t split from how hard your teeth press into it. Neteyam may not be able to track your scent here but the smell of blood would be a dead giveaway. All signs point to being caught but you aren’t ready to hand over the last shreds of hope yet. Neteyam doesn’t know about the cabinet. He’s bluffing about knowing you are here. No one has seen you. 

“We can revisit the idea of a reward system later, pet.” 

The muscles in your legs are cramping beyond relief, begging you to stretch out. You don’t heed these discomforts, too paralyzed by the proximity of your captor. Neteyam on the other hand appears deceivingly content and relaxed, rummaging through your things as if he has all the time in the world. 

He carefully opens your nightstand drawer and those hairless eyebrows raise immediately. The bras are tossed to the side with the same care as the picture but then tiny little lace fabric hangs from his fingers. It’s far from your greatest problem but your cheeks heat anyways when he carefully observes your light purple panties. 

Out of all the drawers to open it seems that Neteyam knows just the one to torment you with. 

“Then again,” The Olo’eyktan smirks. “These are quite cute.” And this time instead of inhaling from the respirator he soaks in the scent from the small fabric instead. Your thighs clench together. 

“Wouldn’t mind having my little tawtute model these for me.” He hums, while pulling out several more pairs. He tucks them away safely in a small pouch attached to his loincloth. “That is, once I finally get rid of this rebellious streak of yours.” 

You allow yourself a small sigh when Neteyam goes around to the other side of the bed, just enough distance for you to breathe properly. 

“Time to come out, little gift.” He squats down onto his haunches, prowling across the floor like a predator on track. He must be searching for you and if that is true then you may still have a chance yet. Neteyam may think you are in here but he doesn’t know where exactly. 

Thoughts race through your mind at a thousand miles per minute. They twist and twirl to find some way that you could get out of this situation unscathed. The doorway is visible through the slanted slits of the cupboard. With the proper footing you may be able to close that distance with a courageous leap. And maybe, just maybe that would be enough to catch Neteyam off guard and give you a head start. 

You make one fatal mistake, however. 

If there is one thing a good prey knows to do, it is to keep sight of their predator at all times. 

Your feet don’t even get the chance to hit the ground, instead dangling and thrashing once you are caught with a strong hold around your waist. Hoping is waning but disappointment sprouts into increased vigor as your nails digging into his arms and legs struggle to kick back at him. 

“YOU MOTHERFUCK-” Your cursing slings into a shriek when Neteyam grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it to strongly crane your head backwards. His golden eyes are dilated until only a thin rim of molten gold is visible. The weight of his angry gaze takes your breath away. 

“Enough.” He enunciates the word, like a drawn sword ready to slash. “Listen closely, pet.” The lump in your throat goes down with a strained gulp. “There is not an inch of this Sky Demon hell hole or corner of this planet that you can run to without being drawn back to me. You are mine and I’ve done well to mark my property.” The fingers intertwined in your hair tickle over the back of your neck, no doubt leaving the trail of his scent behind. “You reek of me.” 

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you flutter them closed to avoid his burning attention. 

“As you should.” His voice rumbles as nothing more than a growl against the nape of your neck. 

“I never asked for this!” Your fighting dimms down to nothing more than squirming as gritting the choked words out sucks your energy away. Before you can do anything to stop it, tears blaze trails down your cheeks. “Just let me go! Please!” 

“Quiet, pet.” 

Another yank to your hair and the words die on your lips. It’s clear now that the time for fun and games is over. Neteyam wastes no time in throwing you onto the creaky mattress and covering your body with his own until he becomes a shadow blocking out the fluorescent light above. His thighs straddle your waist, putting just enough weight down to keep you in place. 

“No more tears.” He sighs, with down turned lips, but doesn’t pause his bunching of your tee shirt. “It’s clear I’ve been spoiling you too much.” 

A broken grasp is pulled from your throat when he easily tears the shirt straight down the middle. You’re not sure what you are trying to accomplish as you swat at his working hands. The shirt was neither your favorite nor of great importance but you still try to stop the onslaught of ripping. 

Confused and overwhelmed you squirm as he rips it into wide ribbons of fabric and then without warning you are flipped onto your stomach. You scramble to crawl away but Neteyam’s plants a foot on your ass and that is unfortunately all it takes to pin you down. Your hands are snatched next, forced together behind your back as the ripped stripes of your own shirt are used as makeshift rope to tie your wrists together. 

Something about him using your own personal clothing to keep you bound for him has your legs kicking out fiercely. It won’t do much damage even if you manage to hit him, but there needs to be an outlet for your anger. You need to feel like there is still some wreckage for you to inflict. The last tiny shred of power that you cling to for dear life. 

Neteyam isn’t in the mood to put up with your outbursts. Much like a fresh kill from his hunting trips he keeps you pinned and makes quick work of binding you imobile. The action is so well rehearsed and instinctual in fact that he already moves on to his next task of destroying your shorts. 

Shrieks and small clawing fingers are simply background ambience for the Olo’eyktan as he works. Surprisingly the small tawtute sized Na’vi clothing is not exempt from the male’s destructive hands. They too become nothing more than rolling beads and scraps of fabric falling to the floor. 

Your string of bloody curses are only temporarily interrupted by your own gasp when Neteyam takes a seat on the bed and throws you over his knee in one swift move. Kicking is no longer an option for your rage when he swings one leg over both of yours. Blood rushes to your head but even dizziness can���t stop your violent outrage. 

However, it appears a cracking smack to your upturned ass can. 

The pain doesn’t ripple forward until a few moments after your shock has subsided. Neteyam has always had creative ways of punishing you but this is different. You’d figured that he would never lay a hand on you after all that he has droned on and on about how important it is to protect a fragile thing like you. 

But another hit accompanies the first and this time you can’t hold back your small squeak. 

“Just as I thought.” He spanks you again, his hand mercilessly hitting both cheeks with every strike. “You’ve been practically begging for a firmer hand.” The cry that the next rapid three slaps pull from you is one that you don’t recognize. 

“Pretty little things like you still struggle to remember their place.” 

“Stop! Stop!” You shriek, trapped legs still fruitlessly sprawling for escape. 

“Don’t worry, little gift.” He squeezes one of your pink cheeks after this last spank. “That’s what I am here for. I won’t let your silly little tawtute tendencies keep you away from me.” 

It doesn’t take long for the color of your backside to match your face as the blood drains to your head. Neteyam is persistent, hardly batting an eye at your cries and shrieks. From cursing to death threats, none of your spewed venom makes him flinch. If anything you manage to catch his small smirk when you twist to glare up at him. You don’t make that mistake again when you find this behavior only rewards you with condescending coos from the Na’vi. 

“That’s a good girl. Let all those nasty words go.” He purrs, heavy hand never letting up on your poor bottom. 

It’s this praise that has your mouth clamping shut. You hold back any and every sound you can as your ass takes a beating. Which is not a lot when the Na’vi male has unfathomable strength and your backside already feels like flames could erupt from it at any moment. 

“Oh pet, I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re already blushing so pretty for me.” Neteyam hums in delight, hand roaming over your burning ass like an art piece just waiting to be admired properly. 

Hardly even touched you?

Is this just his way of being an ass or are you truly that far from the finish line?

You jolt when one finger slips between the crack of your cheeks, teasing over your hole gently. A sound caught between a scream and whimper erupts from you without thought. Bound hands flatten and flail to cover the untouched area but Neteyam simply chuckles and lets his own hand retreat. 

“Mawey, tiyawn.” Neteyam pats your backside softly, almost in a casual reassuring manner. “Another day.” 

It’s hard to say what is more humiliating. Being bound and turned over the Olo’eyktan’s knee like a naughty child or the wetness trickling from your pussy at the feel of his teasing fingers in a place you’ve never dared let anyone else explore before. 

Pain is a great distraction from your humiliation. So much so that it eventually motivates you to dash pride to the side and begin your pleading. 

“A-ah Neteyam! I’m sorry! I’m sorry…eh-ah I-I’ll be good!” It’s not even clear what you are trying to say anymore. Your mouth runs on autopilot, throwing out any line of remorse in hopes of one doing the job. “I ngh-ah didn’t mean to! I won’t run! Can’t take anymo- ah! Neteyam!” 

He reigns his hits to warm the underside of your thighs too, moving between that vulnerable area and your ass in such an erratic way that it is impossible to anticipate where the next will land. 

Plea after plea is thrown out but resembles nothing more than garbled desperation, nothing that can pass as a full sentence.

However, one call catches his attention.

“Olo’eyktan please!” 

The sound of slapping skin stops. 

Tears continue to plunge down your cheeks even without the constant spanking, your ass burns and tingles in shock. The tuft of his tail poruses over your naked thighs, sending a sensation both painful and ticklish. 

“Repeat, pet.” 

“Wha-what?” You stammer, voice thick with tears. 

“What did you say?” That large hand comes down once more like a crack of lightning. 

“AH! Olo’eyktan O-Olo’eyktan please please please. No more no more!” 

He smooths over your knotted hair, pushing it away from your sweaty temple and tear stained face. It’s tempting to look away from his soft gaze but intuition tells you to let him see the trembling state he has left you in. Let him witness how pitiful and distraught a simple spanking has made you be. 

“I….I’m sorry, Olo’eyktan.” 

Neteyam smiles like one would at a lover, a tender pride lacing his lips. 

“You’re learning, pet.”

Putting batteries in that small remote was a mistake. A ridiculous useless mistake that now leaves you standing on shaky legs. The pink vibrator that has resided in your nightstand drawer dutifully on hand for years is now the source of your torment. 

Well, maybe not the source per say. 

No, the true origin of this humiliation stares back at you with knowing eyes and swatting tail, his large hand making that tiny remote look like a children’s toy. The vibrator buzzes inside of you on the lowest setting, but that relief can only last for so long with the way Neteyam enjoys jumping between the different levels. 

Every last shredded piece of your Na’vi and human clothing lays back on the floor of your old bedroom. The only savior of your decency is Neteyam’s cloak that he had thrown around your shoulders. With the size difference this cloak acts more like a dress and therefore gives you more coverage than you’ve had in a week yet somehow leaves you feeling more vulnerable than ever before. Trembling fingers never stray from the seams of the cloak, keeping it wrapped around you tightly as the crowds of humans and Na’vi continue to pass you. 

Neteyam has left you with one of the other Na’vi warriors but never out of his sight. It’s a miracle that your hands were cut loose in the first place but perhaps that is another sick joke the Olo’eyktan plays on you. He knows that you won’t run. He knows you can’t run. His attention and promised consequences for misbehavior are more than enough to keep you tucked in his pocket. 

That and of course his control over the rippling vibrations that torture your pussy. 

The nearest warrior is sure to be noticing your frazzled state by now. At least he has the decency to hide his interest, unlike another Na’vi that watched from the sidelines. Lo’ak, leaned against one of the hoverships like it’s a random Tuesday afternoon, watches with a small smirk and perked ears. If Neteyam notices, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because Lo’ak is left unbothered in his ogling. 

The tempo increases, the vibrator now picking a pattern of random pulses that bash against your sweet spot. Bottom lip bleeding now from your biting, it’s a struggle to keep your moans at bay. With the heavy machinery moving and hundreds of Na’vi and humans passing surely there must be enough noise to block out any degrading sounds you make. But you can’t take that risk. You’ve made the mistake of underestimating the Na’vi’s enhanced hearing before and that is what has landed you here. 

Neteyam twirls the tiny remote between his fingers like a fidget toy as another Na’vi warrior comes to report. 

You start to commiserate the loss of that ridiculous human sized loincloth Neteyam made you because at least then there was some fabric barrier to hide your wetness. Now, the thick Pandoran air runs up the cloak and over your soaked thighs and cunt. It reminds you constantly how pathetic you have become as orgasm after orgasm has escaped your grip. Even worse it reminds you how easy it is to carry that aroused scent through the breeze for all Na’vi to detect. At that rate, worrying about your noises is the least of your concerns. 

Lo’ak reloads the machine gun with practiced hands, moving with muscle memory so he can continue to stare and send silent messages your way. No doubt he is theorizing on what exactly his brother has done to diminish you to such a state. His eyes dance with those ideas, the little quirk of his lips telling you just how creative and vial his thoughts have turned. 

Another level up and this time it is Neteyam’s eyes that have you squirming. Your impending orgasm coils tighter and tighter with every passing second and you're so desperate to find some way to release this energy that your bare feet begin fidgeting against the concrete. It’s almost like a little dance, one that has Lo’ak laughing under his breath. 

It stops.

You breathe. 

There is some sort of commotion off in the distance. Not one that you can truly pin down the source of but you do notice the way Neteyam nods as a Na’vi female says something to him. With a wave she is dismissed and then the Olo’eyktan saunters off. Although slightly worried over the trouble, you are grateful for the respite. 

And then a nightmare unfurls before your eyes.

Instead of marching to the issue, Neteyam takes a pit stop to converse with his younger brother. Lo’ak’s tail whips in the wind at whatever is whispered in his ear but the real horror comes when that traitor of a remote is handed over to the younger Sully male. 

You are seconds away from stomping over there and crushing that pink little weapon before the other male can wield it. However, your dutiful guard places a hand on your shoulder after just one step. His eyes remain locked forward but the warning is enough as his hand retreats. You are still being watched. 

With one last glance your way, Neteyam has the audacity to give you, his little pet, a warm smile before leaving you in the hands of his brother. 

Lo’ak swings the gun around to his back in favor of playing with his new toy. Every dark and viscous fiber left within you is channeled into the glare you give him. It should say everything that your lips can not.

Don’t you dare.

Don’t you fucking dare. 

Now would be a good time to look into Na’vi curses, anything you could betrix upon him for what he is about to do, because of course Lo’ak won’t back down. If anything that fire in your eyes lights his own delight and has him sitting down and bracing forward. Forearms resting on his thighs he clocks your every movement.

This is sure to be the best entertainment the bastard has had in a long time. 

He savors the passing moments of anticipation. Never backing down from the ultimate seething looks you give him. Finally a crash sounds and that distraction is right when Lo’ak sets the vibrator to high. From zero to one hundred, pleasure rackets through you like a shock wave. The force is so much that it temporarily makes you stumble on your feet. The other guard wordlessly steadies you back into place. 

Lo’ak’s grin is feral. 

This silent battle slips between your fingers so quickly it is hard to comprehend, because all that can register in your brain is how fast you are hurtling towards an orgasm. After Neteyam’s denial your body is high strung and ready to take any sensation as fuel to push you over the edge. Nails digging into the soft fabric of Neteyam’s cloak, pleasure rockets higher and higher until only the whites of your eyes are visible. 

Knees bowing inward, ecstasy is finally yours. 

There isn’t enough energy left to question why Lo’ak let you reach your high. Instead you focus on riding that wave while simultaneously keeping upright. 

That persistent buzzing against your sweet spot continues until your nerves are short circuiting. The pleasure turns to overstimulation and you give Lo’ak a look that alerts him of this change. 

His amusement tells you that he already knows your predicament but his thumb remains far from the off button. 

Pathetic noises now bubble up your throat without restraint as pleasure ebbs into pain. It switches back and forth until another release is on the verge of consuming your being. The guard next to you doesn’t say anything when he helps to sit on the cold ground. 

The second orgasm has a bitter taste to it but your greedy pussy clenches around the toy all the same. It’s almost too bad that Neteyam decided not to gag you because at least that would muffle your cries as you rock down onto the toy. Lo’ak gulps at the sight, pupils blown wide when the first glimmer of tears scrape down your cheeks.

Regardless, he shows no mercy as he takes in the show with undivided interest. 

Vaguely you register the bustle and commotion around you as different Na’vi and humans rush to and fro, giant machinery finally backing into place but they are only background noise to your third orgasm. 

Your body is caught between delight and despair with every passing second. When you are close to reaching your peak for the fourth time your body is resistant to get you there all the way. The intense buzzing in your pussy is driving you wild but still not enough to drag out another orgasm after being too overstimulated. Despite the soreness that emanates from your wrecked hole, your clit throbs in agony. Begging to be touched. To be licked. Pinched. Flicked. God, anything at this point.

Memories of Neteyam doing just that surface, pushing you closer and closer to another dumbing climax and yet only serve as a reminder of how you are not getting the treatment you so desperately need. Pride is dashed to the side, you’ll worry about the consequences of grinding onto the toy in public later. 

Lo’ak’s hands roughly brush over his inner thighs and it draws your attention. The taunt muscle and smooth skin of those thighs would surely brush over your intimate flesh so perfectly. He would probably help you too, hands clawing at your hips as they urge you back and forth over the area. Even more so, the younger brother would not be able to pass up the opportunity to show his power over the situation, muscles flexing to tease your clit oh so beautifully. 

You’re not sure when Lo’ak became telepathic but he grips his knees and gives you a look that says he knows every dark desire that plagues your brain. His nails press into that soft flesh and drag until there are pretty red marks left behind. If you crawled over there sweetly, would he let you ride? Maybe if you healed those red marks with open mouthed kisses and kitten licks. 

Unaroused you would be ashamed of this train of thought but she is so far gone now. 

The only thing your poor abused cunt is begging for was attention. Anything to get this awful mix of heaven and hell to bleed into euphoric release and rest. 

The only thing stopping you from reaching down and finishing the job yourself is the assurance that Lo’ak would snip all pleasure in a bud at the sight of any touching. 

The area has been cleared of invaders. Na’vi begin to make their way off to the hills before take off but you are none the wiser. Caught in your own little bubble you don’t even notice when a sudden shadow blocks out the sun. That is until, large warm hands slip under the cloak and skate over your spread legs. 

Such a simple touch has never made you whimper more. 

Neteyam’s accent is thicker now, words heavy enough to hardly understand the meaning as he coos at you. “There’s my sweet pet. Little slut just wants to come again, don’t you?”

His fingers force your legs to spread even wider. Lo’ak’s stares as if his glare could heat up enough to burn through that cloak. 

With such delicacy it makes you want to scream, Neteyam uses two fingers to part your pussy lips and expose your pulsing clit. The other hand slithers down to rest on your thigh as you try to buck against the air. 

“Come for your Olo’eyktan, pet,” He growls and with the other hand he begins delivering rapid little taps to your clit. It’s humiliating how tiny the gesture that puts you over the edge is but you paint the toy white regardless. 

When the vibrator finally takes a rest you are too far lost in your own little world. Neteyam swaddles you in the cloak and carries you in his arm as you bury into his chest. And conveniently, when you are tucked back in the forest there is no awareness left in you to recognize the sound of launching ships. 

As always interaction and feedback not only means the world to me but also as a great motivator for writing and updating<3

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[wilwheaton]

When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

#tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw exploitation #child actor #still just a geek #lucio fulci #trauma survivor #speaking up for the child who was silenced by his abusers

[magics-neptunes-things]

Impossible Love Resists Best

Hi guys ♥

First of all, can we talk about this gif please?

It’s from this request that I received like an eternity ago, sorry?

Summary : How to survive when your super-protective-intrusive older sister aka Patri Guijarro discovers that you have an affair with one of your teammates.

TW : Swearing, !GuijarroReader

Enjoy and tell me what you think about this one :)

______________________________________________________________

We can’t really say that Patri is the one you better get along with between your other brothers and sisters. Even if you were born two years after her, you don’t have quite the same tempter. You were four children in the family and the only thing that brought you and Patri together was football. You never liked seeing her meddle in your affairs or wanting to control every parts of your life.

So when she found herself playing at FC Barcelona in 2015, you were pretty relieved. You chose Atletico Madrid some months after her departure, just to stay in Spain but not follow her steps. Your call to the Spanish national team, however, more or less forced you to play together from time to time. When your contract with Atletico ended and you had to make a choice, you hesitated for a long time before accepting the offer from Barcelona. Seeing your sister every day honestly made you hesitate a lot. It was one thing to support her at family celebrations, but it was another to have her in everyday life.

So, before you agreed, you asked Alexia Putellas for advice. You play together on the national team and she knows Patri very well. You knew Alexia would take your opinion into consideration and think about the well-being of her team before anything else. After much discussion with her, you finally agreed and arrived in Barcelona in the summer of 2022.

And finally, everything went rather well. You didn’t spend too much time with your sister, preferring to train with Salma, Ingrid and Mapi or Lucy. Unlike Patri, you went to the World Cup in Australia and even though it caused some tense discussions between you two, it never changed your way of seeing things.

Apart from the ideals and your desire to change things, you had to admit that there was something else that made you want to fly to kangaroo country. I mean, someone.

This someone who wakes up gently at your side, opening her delicious chocolate eyes.

You and Ona met during your first selection for the Spanish adult team. It wasn’t until after Euro 2022 that you got together. A sweet way to console yourself for your defeat. But, concerned about your sister’s reaction, you decided to keep this relationship hidden. When Ona was still in Manchester, it wasn’t too complicated. You talked a lot by messages or by Facetime and since the Federation used to always make the same pairs for hotel rooms, you took the opportunity to find yourself at those times.

You were afraid that Ona’s arrival in Barcelona would change things, but not at all. The beautiful brunette took an apartment five minutes walk from yours, finding you the excuse to carpool very often. Nobody suspected that if you came together sometimes, it was because you spent the night together. In truth, since Ona is in the same city as you are, you have trouble spending time away from her.

"Holà" Ona mumble before turning in her back to stretch her body.

Her movement brings down the sheet on her body and you don't hesitate to let your eyes slide on her. When you go up to her eyes, she arched an amused eyebrow and you offer her a guilty smile.

"Don’t start like this, or we will never get there on time"

"I’m not even sorry"

You give her an angelic smile that makes her laugh and you get closer to her to curl up against her, your head on her chest. The regular beating of her heart makes you doze again, unless it's her nails that massage your skull. You hums and close your eyes, getting yourself comfortable.

"Do you have anything to do today? After training?"

"Pina is planning to kidnapp me to go shopping"

You roll your eyes as Ona giggle. You hate shopping. You hate looking for something for hours, only to realize that what you liked is no longer available in the right size. You hate people in stores who go half crazy and having to lug a dozen bags to your parked car 20 minutes walk away makes you want to kill someone.

"And you?"

"Nothing, maybe I'll go see my parents"

You hums one more time and begin to stroke Ona's arm. This is maybe your favorite part of her body, you have a thing with her arms and hands. You both stay like this for twenty minutes, before you need to prepare yourself for training. Like many other times, you arrive together in the car park and go together to the changing rooms. But, in order not to draw the attention of your teammates to your relationship, you and Ona decided to spend as much time together visually as with others. Because outside of FC Barcelona, it’s clear that Ona is the one you spend the most time with.

********

Celebrating a team victory at a local bar, you find yourself stuck between Mapi and Lucy. Usually you refuse this kind of party, knowing that Patri is there almost every time. And besides, Ona has a reputation for leaving early, so she can discreetly join you at home without it appearing strange. The only time you left one of these parties together, you were surprised by Alexia while you were kissing in Ona’s car, unable to keep your hands to yourself after restricting yourself all evening. The blond was looking for you to give you back the jacket you had forgotten.

This makes her the only person who knows about your relationship and she promised not to get involved, even though she advised you to talk to Patri before she found out for herself.

You were drinking alcohol-free cocktail, not wanting to have a headache tomorrow morning.

"I'm booooored" Mapi whines, letting herself go of the backrest. "I need an occupation. Why don’t we find you someone, Mini-Guijarro?"

You grimace at the nickname you hate, seeing Ona tense on her chair a few meters from you. Not wanting to be the second Guijarro, you actually go with your first name on your jersey for example.

"Go dancing with your girlfriend, you dork" you answer smiling at Mapi, sipping your drink.

"Are you annoying my little sister?" Patri ask sitting on the free chair in front of you. "That’s one thing I have reserved for myself, you know?"

Mapi laugh as you roll your eyes. The blonde sits more upright and leans on the table explaining her action plan to Patri.

"I thought we could find someone for your sister."

"Are you joking? She’s a baby" Patri replies coldly, killing the fun.

"What are you talking about? She’s not a 12 years old anymore"

Your frown and take a quick look at Ona. She's looking at you too, but like some other girl around your table. Mapi had raised an eyebrow and Patri was about to respond to her before Lucy does it first.

"Why don’t you stop talking about her like she’s not here?"

Both decided not to add anything, at least for the first few seconds. This gives you time to shoot a look and a smile to thanks Lucy, who answers you with a wink.

It’s exactly for this kind of thing that you never talked about your relationship with Ona to Patri and for which you never talked about your love life with her. She knows you have a preference for women, but that’s all. She never even knew the name of one of your girlfriends. Not that you’ve had dozens, but still.

"Do you know she’s a footballer and not a nun, at least?"

Mapi comes back, getting your sister’s attention and you sigh.

"What do you mean?"

Looking kind of angry, Patri crossed her arms on her chest and looks at Mapi with a bad air. Mapi seems determined to change her mind and let you have a sentimental life, perhaps imagining that Patri’s opinion has already prevented you from doing something.

"She’s young, pretty hot and I’m sure that if she wanted to she’d walk out of here with several phone numbers."

"Just because you used to sleep around at the time doesn’t mean everyone does. And don't go there or I'm sure Ingrid would love to learn that you call one of your common friend hot."

Mapi’s amused look becomes a black stare and you decide that the line had been crossed. You get up from your seat, glaring at your sister, raising your voice maybe a little too much than you hopped.

"Enough. Can you stop two minutes of disrespecting people, Patri? I do what I want, when I want, with whom I want. It's not for you to say what is good for me, as if you were interested enough in me for that, other than to remind me all the time that you do everything better than me. You’re just so pathetic. Leave me the fuck alone."

Moving away from the table, you realize that Ona is no longer in her seat but you find her leaning on the bar, in the company of others of your teammates. Going through the dance floor, you intercept Ingrid and advise her to go and get her girlfriend before her and your sister kill each other. Then you finally join the bar and settle down next to Ona.

You meddle in the discussion a few minutes before discreetly shifting your attention to Ona. Your hand found her fingers under the bar and you clenched them discreetly to draw her attention to you.

"Are you okay?" you ask her gently.

"Yeah. The comment about your sentimental possibilities was a little too much"

You make a grimace, frustrated not to be able to take her in your arms to reassure her properly. You stay immersed in her eyes for a few more moments and you realize that you no longer want to stay. You want to go home, your sister’s behavior has greatly annoyed you and you want to talk about it to Ona, too.

"As soon as someone leave, we're leaving too" you decide.

Ona nods and she had the time to finish her drink before Lucy and Aitana decided to leave. You jump at the chance and tell the others that you’re coming home too, followed by Ona. The four of you go out after saying your goodbyes, yourself carefully avoided your sister’s gaze, and it is with great relief that you breathe fresh air from the outside. Ona and you said goodbye to the two others women and went to your car.

"My sister is the dumbest person on earth" you groan angrily, barely the door of the car closed behind you.

Ona smiled sympathetically, but said nothing. She didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, knowing how tense your relationship with Patri has been since you were little. It’s not the first time you’ve complained about it and you’ve already told her a lot. But the way she’s behaving with you makes you half crazy, not to mention she’s even starting to talk badly to your mutual friends now. Mapi and Patri being apparently still in the bar when you left, you imagined that Ingrid’s intervention must have been saving the night.

You relax a little when you feel Ona’s hand on yours. She searches for some seconds on her phone a playlist that will suit you both and the rest of the trip is done in silence. You obviously notice that your girlfriend is also lost in her thoughts, but you prefer to wait until you are at home to question her.

When you arrive home, you both go to the kitchen to drink a glass of water before making a jump in the bathroom to shower before returning to your bedroom. There, you draw Ona against you and you let a new silence settle. You shiver when you feel her draw random shapes on the skin of your belly and even if the feeling is more than pleasant, you decide to attract her attention by raising her chin in your direction.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"I was just wondering what would happen the day Patri heard about us" Ona said, shrugging.

"You saw what she said earlier, it’s clear that she will take it badly."

You sigh and gently shake your head. She’s your sister, she’s supposed to want your happiness, right?

"Yes, that’s, okay. But us?"

"I don’t understand your question Hermosa"

Eyebrows slightly gathered, you watch Ona sit on your lap and you automatically place your hands on her thighs.

"I’m going to ask you the most selfish question in the world." Ona looks embarrassed, but you smile at her and beckon to continue. "If she tells you to stop our relationship, what would you do?"

The answer seems obvious to you, but you quickly realize that in Ona’s mind this is not necessarily the case. Perhaps it comes from the fact that his parents and brother have never behaved in a way other than that of a loving and supportive family.

"I'm not going to listen Ona, obviously. This option isn't even a possibility."

"Really?"

"Really."

With this you smile and draw her against you again to put your lips on hers. The shyness displayed on your girlfriend’s face squeezes your heart and you resent Patri a little more to impose this kind of doubts. During the kiss your hand is placed on her cheek and you caress her tenderly with your thumb when you speak again.

"I don’t want to lose you, Ona"

"Me neither, Princesa"

********

The next morning, it’s with a better mood that you wake up. When you look at your phone, you realize that your sister tried to call you last night, but you decide to ignore this information for now. You put on an underwear and a t-shirt of Ona, trying not to make any noise and not to wake up the pretty brunette who still sleeps peacefully. You know she usually wakes up quickly once you’re out of bed, but you still have hope that you can make her breakfast before she joins you.

You rummage through your kitchen, realizing it might be time to go shopping, but you end up finding everything you need. The avocado toasts are ready and you were finishing your scrambled eggs when Ona startles you by jumping on your back. The cry you utter is far from advantageous to you, but you cannot hold back your smile when you hear Ona’s laughters.

"Don’t scare me like that!"

"Sorry" she laughs again before putting a kiss on your cheek and coming down from your back.

You cast an amused glance at her before turning in her direction with a plate in each hand.

"Mrs’s breakfast is served"

"It’s Miss until I’m married, thank you" she smirks, taking her plate from your hand.

"Watch out, Batlle."

She stick out her tongue at you and you roll your eyes before following her on the sofa in the living room, where you have the habit of having breakfast, with a music channel on. The discussion between you two is easy and playful, plans to go to the beach being even made since you have the day off. As a local, Ona knows exactly where to go to avoid the world. And doing a little road has never been disturbing for you. You love your trips with your cars, make with laughter and songs of your adolescence shouted out loud.

Your plates and glasses finished, you turn to Ona.

"Have you eaten enough?"

You ask while looking at her, lazily stretching. The dishes will wait a little while before being made.

"Not really" said Ona in a dreamy way. "I think I wouldn’t mind a dessert"

You barely have time to realize what she means that she jumps on you (literally) and you find yourself lying all along on the couch, your hands stuck in Ona’s above your head.

"Oh. This kind of dessert" you laugh, although your laugh get stuck in your throat when you feel her lying on you to deposit open-mouth kisses in the hollow of your neck.

She knows exactly what to do and you feel waves of shivers and heat running through your entire body. You lose your feet when you feel her add bites to her kisses, not enough to leave marks, but enough to set your skin on fire.

You finally manage to free your hands and this manage to satisfy your need to feel Ona’s skin on yours. The t-shirt she was wearing found itself carelessly thrown on the ground somewhere, soon followed by yours. The warmth of her body against your skin gives you incredible sensations and you let her body slide between your legs to feel her even closer to you. Grabbing her head with both of your hands, you kiss her, trying to show her all the emotions she makes you feel. Judging by the moan she lets out, it must be pretty convincing.

Your living room being the first thing visible once the front door of your apartment is passed, it would have been almost impossible to try to hide somewhere. You know you would have tried anyway if you had realized earlier that your front door was opening. Yet you and Ona just have time to turn your heads to find out that the intruder is no one but your sister. To whom you had the stupidity to give the double of your keys, on the insistence of your mother.

Your first reflex is to roll Ona behind you and sit in front of her to hide her nakedness, not particularly wanting your sister to see your girlfriend like that.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

The number of times Patri has set foot here is counted on the fingers of the hand. That she passed without even taking the time to warn you is surprising, but the one who is the most surprised of the three is probably Patri herself. Wide-eyed, she seems about to drop the paper bag with the logo of the local bakery.

You take advantage of her shock to pick up your t-shirts and get dressed and that’s where Patri restarts. You even wonderif she realized in the first instance that the person with whom you were exchanging a kiss qualified Pegi 18 was actually Ona.

"What the fuck is going on here?!"

She’s angry, of course. The bag of the bakery is thrown on a piece of furniture and when you hear her raise your voice, you get up from the sofa to be at her height. By an alignment of the stars you are taller than her by a few centimeters and you thank the nature of this gift, knowing how impressive Patri can be when she's angry.

"Don’t yell at me, you’re at my house, not yours"

"Shut up! You’re so stupid. Just to stand up to me about last night you had to take someone home? And one of our other teammates?"

The statement is so unexpected that you find yourself speechless for a few seconds. You never imagined for a second that your sister would think that you and Ona were just a one-night stand. But it's especially the fact that she imagines that it turns once again around her that annoys you.

"Out of all the girls in the bar you chose Ona? How can you be so immature?"

"And I'm the immature one now"

You’re laughing, nervously of course. You are so angry that you feel your hands shake, but you manage to keep a certain degree of calm when you feel Ona gently settling her arm on you. Over your shoulder, you look at her. You would have preferred to announce your relationship to your sister in better conditions, but since we were there…

However, it's Patri who speaks before you, speaking directly to Ona.

"What about you? Are you crazy or what? My little sister? Let go of her Ona or I swear that you will regret it"

Yeah, you know you’re not doing the right thing either. But the tone she speaks to the woman you love is even worse than the one she spoke to Mapi last night. And that’s all it takes to get you started.

"Don't you dare talk to her like that" you said to her sharply while bypassing the coffee table to face her.

"I came to apologize for speaking badly to you last night, but I would have been better off getting hit by a car apparently"

She keeps screaming and it starts to get on your nerves.

"This idea is tempting to me" you spit

You try to maintain your anger by talking to her coldly, teeth clenched. You feel Ona moving behind you, standing without really knowing what to do. Her presence, however, allows you to realize that it would be better to continue to try to explain yourself rather than respond to Patri’s provocations. So you take a deep breath before speaking again.

"Look, listen to me. It's not what it look like, I k-"

"Yeah, like you two weren't about to fuck on your couch."

Two seconds of astonished silence followed her sarcasm, while you realized that you correctly understood what she just said. And, so suddenly that neither Ona nor Patri had time to realize what was happening, you grab your sister by the collar of her t-shirt to get her out of your house.

"Get. Out."

You raised your voice too and push her out of your apartment with all your strength. You slam the door in her head, then grab her damn bag of croissant, open the door again to throw it in her face and slam it one more time. The neighbors will be happy.

********

Lying on the couch in Ona’s apartment after an intense workout, you’re both watching your new passion series on Netflix. You haven’t looked at your sister or spoken to her for more than a week now and you still as mad at her. You and Ona informed Alexia of the turn of events and after a long discussion with her, you decided to gradually let your teammates know about your relationship.

Most were surprised to learn this, but after seeing the different pieces of the puzzle put together, it didn't seem improbable to them. For her part, Lucy laughed, saying that she already knew and that you were not very discreet when it came to ogling the other. And Mapi slapped you in the back, certifying that you had very good taste. It made you roll your eyes and laughed Ona, but overall you are rather relieved of everyone’s reactions. Even management and the team committee were briefed and made no comments.

There was only Patri.

"I knew he was cheating on her. What a son of a bitch" grumbles Ona, eyes fixing on the screen while lying against you.

You smile and slide your lips into her hair while shifting your attention to the screen. Despite your respective fears, Patri’s behavior didn't distance you, quite the contrary. Your way of doing things hasn't changed during training or matches, both wishing to keep a distance between your professional life and your personal life.

"Language, young lady" you sing before kissing her scalp again.

You are interrupted in your viewing by your phone which starts to vibrate on the coffee table, attracting your attention. You decided not to answer, before the name of the person trying to reach you appeared. "Papi". You frown, extending your arm to grab your phone. Your dad’s not one to call, just texting with dozens of emoji every text.

After putting the episode on Pause, Ona turns on you so that she is lying on her stomach to be able to look at you. Your concern must be seen since she's also frowning.

"Holà?"

"Holà mija" your father calmly answers you, as if you were calling each other every night.

"What's happening?" you asks, not wanting to lose time.

"Nothing, I just wanted to hear you. It's been a while."

"Do I have to remind you who I got my poor lying qualities from?" you ask while bowing an eyebrow.

At the other end of the line, your father laughs softly and this makes you smile despite everything. Always a little lost, Ona questions you with a look. Unable to give her additional information at the moment, you shrug and replace tenderly one of the strands of her bun.

"Maybe, but you have your football skills from me"

"Sure. So, what's up?"

"Well... Patri called."

"Oh."

Here we are. You roll your eyes and put your phone on speakers, allowing your girlfriend to listen to the conversation. After all, she was as involved in the story as you.

"What did Lady Patri say?"

"She said that you had a fight about a random girl and that you threw her out of your apartment. And that since this day you weren't talking to her."

"Ona isn't a random girl for fuck's sake. She's my girlfriend!"

"Language young lady!"

Hearing your father take you back as you did previously almost make laugh Ona and she hides her face in your belly. It’s time for you to keep your seriousness and you bite your lip before resuming more calmly.

"She showed up at my apartment without telling me, even if we had a fight the night before and found me with Ona."

Needless to say what you were doing.

"She started yelling at me and calling me immature and she spoke to her badly, I wasn’t going to throw flowers at her anyway, was I?"

"No."

Your father’s silence lasts a few seconds and you imagine him perfectly thinking while rubbing his chin. No wonder he called you, your mother has always sided with Patri over the years. Your father is different, being the youngest of four boys, he suffered during his childhood with his big brothers. He understands perfectly your point of view and your feelings regarding Patri and her way of wanting to manage your life.

"So you have a girlfriend?"

"Yes"

Ona look back at you and you smirk, wrapping a strand of her hair around your finger.

"Since when are you both together?"

"Since the Euro, when we lost against England."

"So it's quiet serious then"

"It is Papi. I didn't want to talk about it to Patri though it's like she doesn't want me to be happy."

"I wouldn't say that, Muñeca."

You shrugs and another silence passed.

"When you say Ona, it's for Ona Batlle, verdad?"

You hums, still playing with Ona's hair.

"Oh that's good. I met her dad last summer in Australia, did you know he likes to go mushroom too?"

"I’m so glad to know you’ve got something in common with my stepfather, Papi" you laugh with Ona.

"Have you ever met him and her wife officially? I hope you made a good impression on them"

You roll your eyes one more time before giving him your answer, Ona chuckle a little before laying down on you. You relieved about this conversation, even if Patri has once again interfered in your life by mentioning your couple to your parents before doing it yourself. Your father doesn’t seem against your relationship, and he more or less informed you that your mother didn’t either. As for your other brothers and sisters, they don’t seem to care much, but that doesn’t surprise you. They were never for gossip.

********

"Can I have my kiss now?"

Smiling, you were chasing Ona along the corridors of the stadium where you train. The rain having invited itself to the party, the training ground quickly turned into fields of mud, and after a training match you found yourself thrown to the ground following a tackle of your girlfriend. That explains why your body is covered in dirt, mud and grass.

"No!" Ona laughs at you as you try to draw her against you by grabbing her by the bottom of her shirt.

She manages to escape you and starts running. Having been assigned to store the equipment, you are the last to join the changing rooms. All the others rushed to enjoy a good hot shower.

"Come on baby, at least a lovely cuddle?"

"Y/N get of of me!"

Ona isn't really running, if she wanted to escape you it would have been a long time before she would have lost you. Her speed is no longer a secret to anyone. Ona was still laughing and you grin, feeling her slap you on your hand so you drop the piece of her cloth.

"Why? It’s your fault if I’m in this state anyway"

You end up grabbing your girlfriend’s arm and pulling her against you to kiss her tenderly. Willingly letting it happen, Ona puts her arms around your neck and responds to your kiss. Knowing that no one will bother you, you gently wedge her between the wall and you. You didn’t think it could be cold and when you feel her take off quickly and shiver, you laugh softly.

"Sorry" you smile mischievously.

"More kissed and you’ll be forgiven" she whispers against your lips

You oblige easily at her request, putting your lips on hers again. Only to be interrupted by an embarrassed cough. Turning your face in the source of the sound, you discover your sister. Sighing, you take off a little of Ona, without releasing her completely.

"This is the second time, Patri. What do you want?"

"Mom would like to know if you are coming back to Palma this weekend" Patri whispers without looking at you.

You glance at Ona who is also looking at you, before answering her. The team you had to face this weekend cannot receive you because of administrative problems, the game was moved later during the season. You usually go home to your parents when you have a whole free weekend. Except this time, Ona's family invited you for Ona’s mother’s birthday and there’s no way you’re not going.

"I have already said no. Ona and I already have plans."

Patri plays nervously with her fingers before answering you. You don’t know what your mother said to her, but she seems determined to try and patch things up between you.

"Look, if it’s because of our argument…"

"Oh my God Patricia… you never learn from your mistakes?"

"What?"

She look at you, confused, and you sigh. You don't really want to talk to her, but you know that she will never let it go if you don't explain yourself.

"Not everything is about you! I can't go because we're going at Ona's Mom's birthday. Mama already knows that, are you both saying that I'm a liar now?"

"No, of course not."

"So, end of the conversation."

Without any word, you grab Ona by the hand and drag her with you in the locker room. You really need to take this shower now and forget about the interaction you just had with your sister.

********

"Are you thinking about making up with your sister or not?"

Another day, another match and you find yourself in a four-man position with Ona, Alexia and Salma. If Salma plugged in her headphones and listened to music, Ona fell asleep on your knees, leaving only you and Alexia awake for the moment.

"What do you mean?" you ask your captain curiously.

"I know you’ve never been best friends in the world, but she’s still your sister. When my father passed away, my sister and mother were my biggest support and I wouldn’t be where I am now without them."

You bite your lip thoughtfully. You have already met Alba several times and you appreciate her, she is a cheerful and devoted person to Alexia. Proud of her older sister, she doesn't mask her admiration. But what struck you every time was the way Alexia put her little sister on a pedestal. No jealousy, no unhealthy competitiveness.

"The relationship I have with Patri has nothing to do with the one you have with Alba" you point out gently.

"She's still your sister. And I know she's not perfect, but she's really trying to make the things better between you two."

You shrug your shoulders and shift your attention to the window. The train journey is long today, the opposing team being located in the north, you have almost the whole country to cross.

"If she comes to apologize, I might think about it again" you end up answering by glancing at Ona, peacefully asleep. "And not just at me."

Alexia nods with a satisfied little smile. She seems sure it’s going to happen, you’re much less so. You’ve never heard your sister apologize to anyone since she was 10, when your parents stopped asking her to apologize when something was wrong.

********

It didn’t take long for Patri to approach you and attempt reconciliation. The discussion you had with Alexia made you think a little, realizing that you may have been a little too closed to the discussion with your older sister. But you’re still hoping she’ll apologize to you first, before you tell her that maybe she was a little too cold.

You talked to Ona about it, of course. After you arrived at the hotel, you had a few hours to settle in and immediately raised the subject with your girlfriend. The latina, lulled by the love of her older brother from a young age, is obviously not against a reconciliation with Patri. She was never even angry with her, rather sad to see you tear yourself apart in this way. The catalan is definitely for family peace.

After your game, as you walk around the stadium to thank your fans and take some pictures with Lucy, you see your sister sneaking up on you, making sure she’s far enough away from the audience to talk to you.

"Would you like to come drink something with me afterwards? At the hotel restaurant?"

Surprise, you hesitate a split second by biting your lip. But when you see that Patri is about to beg you to accept, you end up nodding with a simple nod.

It’s a little nervous that you come down from your hotel room to find Patri after Ona kissed you tenderly, telling you that she is sure that everything will be fine. For your part, you just hope that no scream will ring between you two.

When you arrive, Patri is already there and beckons you to join her, which you finish by approaching with a face as relaxed as possible. You barely have time to sit down when someone come to take your order and after ordering a Coke Zero you shift your attention to your sister.

"I’m not sure where to start" Patri said, frowning.

"Maybe because of what made you ask me to come here?" you answer with a shrug.

"I don’t want to fight anymore. I know we never got along perfectly well, but it’s never been so strong"

You nod and bite your lip thoughtfully. You have to take it upon yourself to choose the right words and not provoke an argument. Because deep down, you also want things to relax with her. As Alexia said, she’s still your big sister and the same blood is in your veins.

"I’m sorry I reacted the way I did about your relationship with Ona"

You look up at her, waiting for the rest. There’s so much to discuss that you actually don’t know where to start either.

"Like you said, my first reaction was stupid and realizing that you hid your relationship for over a year because of me… First I was hurt and then I realized how stupid I was. All I wanted to do was protect you."

"I’m not three anymore, Patri. And even back then I was pissed that you wouldn’t let me do the big swing, just so you know."

A slight smile appears on your face and it is also born on the face of Patri when she realizes that you make a small touch of humor.

"I chose the wrong way. I’m sorry."

You nod again, sincerely happy to hear these words coming out of your big sister’s mouth. It's certainly time for you to tell her what you think about your behavior.

"I certainly didn’t react in the right way either. But seeing you intervene in my life regularly took away a little more patience each time. And the story with Ona was really the one thing too many, and you talked to her so bad that it drives me crazy."

"I can understand. I'll talk to her to."

Patri’s simple answer suits you once again and you relax a little, letting yourself go against the back of your chair. The night has long since fallen outside and you feel tired of the training and the match of earlier, during which you played the entire time.

"So... You and Ona, it's serious?"

You shift your attention once again to her, taking a few seconds to ensure the substance of the question before answering her.

"I’m in love with her, Patri. We managed to be close to each other when she was in Manchester but since she’s in Barcelona it’s even stronger. She’s just… I don’t know. I just know it’s her."

Patri smiled and nodded gently, before changing the subject of conversation. After about thirty minutes, without having exchanged any argument, you decide to go back to your respective rooms. You are surprised by the hug she offers you before entering her room, but you answer it nevertheless gladly.

When you arrive in your room, Ona is waiting for you, sitting at the edge of her bed. Well, one of the two beds you have glued so that you can sleep together without taking the risk of falling. Even if you always end up in each other’s arms, it remains more comfortable.

"How did it go?" asks you immediately the Catalan, her head tilted to the side to be able to better observe you.

"Good" you just answer, hoping your smile speaks for itself.

After closing the door, you approach her and sit by her side. It doesn’t take her long to grab your hand in hers and intertwine your fingers. Talking to Patri about your feelings for Ona made you realize or recall how much you love her. And how lucky you are to have her by your side. Ona is perfect for you and you love everything about her.

"What did you talk about?"

Ona’s curiosity makes you smile, but you respond willingly. After all, you never hid anything from her and you always had full and blind trust in her. That is not going to change today.

"About our childhood, the different way we see things…"

You shrug your shoulders, trying to pick up the conversation you had. It was intense but clearly necessary. You really hope that everything would be better since now.

"And about us, too" you add with a small smile.

"What did you tell her?"

"That I’m crazy about you"

Your smile gets bigger when you see Ona blushing. She also smiles and you don't waist time to break the distance between your two faces to put a kiss on her lips. It's the pure truth, even if you have never had the opportunity to reveal to her the strength of your feelings for her with simple words. You always felt like they weren’t strong enough to express how you feel about her.

"Well I hope you told her that I'm crazy about you too?" Ona smirks after the kiss.

"You can tell her later. She want to excuse herself to you too"

Ona nods, distracted by your fingers running along her hips. You didn't let her answer anything else, kissing softly her jaw and her neck, determined to celebrate your victory with her and your possible reconciliation with Patri.

********

2 Years Later

"Oh my God Patri, get out!"

A pillow flies through the room and you hear your sister laughing before she quickly closes the door. You don’t know what kind of power it is, but your sister always manages to interrupt you and Ona when things start to get interesting.

Realizing that the atmosphere is dead, you sigh and roll on your back while you were previously lying on Ona for an intense making-out session. Returning to Palma de Mallorca, to your parents for your brother’s birthday, you naturally took Ona with you. Your father loves her and your Mother seems to like her too. The bond between your families is also very good, your fathers having both quickly clicked on the many points they have in common.

"Next time we take a hotel room" you nag, making Ona laugh softly.

Smiling despite yourself, you gently lower her t-shirt that you had raised on her stomach before looking at her when she rolls on her side.

"Or we could take a small apartment here. I really like this place and if we want to change from Barcelona some days we would just jump on the plane. Not even an hour and we’re here."

"Why not" you smile softly.

She smiles back at you when you stroke her face tenderly, drawing imaginary features between her freckles. More than three years have passed and you will never get tired of her. The little box containing the ring you planned to propose to her with tonight is neatly hidden in one of your pairs of socks and you’ve actually booked a room in a local palace for the night. It's indeed out of question to celebrate your engagement in your parents' house, with your sister’s weasel or your nephews and nieces ready to land at any time in your childhood room.

"Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?" you innocently ask Ona.

"I’d go anywhere with you" smiled Ona and you kissed her one last time before you got out of bed.

You discreetly take the box and the ring, sliding it in the pocket of your jeans before joining Ona who awaits you in the corridor.

"I forgot my phone" you’re just answering her questioning look.

You take a look at it and Patri’s message informs you that everything is in place. She’s supposed to take your proposal in photo and video, so that you have a memory of that moment. All Ona has to say is yes. Despite your stress, you know her answer will be positive.

Walking hand in hand, you got lost in your thoughts and Ona is quiet too. But a glance at her informs you that she is smiling and relaxed. Her gaze on the sea returns to you and she addresses you an interrogative glance.

"Are you all right?"

You just nod with a smile, busy remembering the speech you prepared. Despite your certainty, you feel that anxiety is gaining ground and you are happy to see that the place you have designated to Patri is finally there.

"Actually, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about" you start, interrupting your walk.

In the distance, hidden behind a rock, Patri draws her camera when she sees you stop. The video is already on and your big sister is as stressed as you. If she misses what you asked her to do, she could be banned from marriage.

It's with a tender smile that Patri watches the questioning read on Ona’s face, followed by tenderness when you make your statement to her and surprise when she sees you kneeling, the famous ring presented in its case. The following photos contain the moment when you pass the ring on her finger, the one where the latin jumps at your neck and the last is that of your first kiss as fiancées.

Ona said yes, of course.

Because You and Her are forever.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #patri guijarro #patri guijarro imagine

[emphistic]

i’m afraid i’m not too specific, i just read your pucker up, buttercup and that seems like what happened before they started dating

i honestly don’t know if you’re writing a multi chapter series about this specific sukuna bf or it’s different from each one, but can you do something like his friend hitting sukuna with the “can i like your friend?” about reader so sukuna becomes jealous and claimed reader

if not, it’s alright, looking forward to reading more of your works :))

A/N: hi! just to clear up some confusion, my General Masterlist is full of works that are stand-alones (not in any series) — but i guess some of them could be read as works from the same universe. on the other hand, all works part of my Boy Nextdoor Series Masterlist are in the same universe/au and the same timeline.

anywho, here’s your request

Sukuna used his jersey to wipe the sweat off his face. The gymnasium was still full of shouts by angry fans, hollers by exuberant fans, and sweaty basketball players — of course including himself.

His team had just won another of their games and all Sukuna wanted to do was to take a quick shower, change, and spend the rest of the evening relaxing, with you. But alas, the duties of a team captain were far from tranquil.

For, he soon heard the squeaking of shoes approaching him. Sukuna didn't turn around, wholeheartedly expecting it to be just another person trying to shoot their shot and get his number. But he was wrong; it was actually quite opposite.

"Yo, Captain! You're close with Y/N, right? Could you maybe hook me up with her? I think she might be the one for me," Jacob — a friend of Sukuna — spoke, in a loud and obnoxiously masculine voice.

Gojo — another of Sukuna's teammates — spits out his water, laughing in the background. "He's gonna be an Adam 2.0*, I'm calling it," Gojo nudged his friend Geto — another of Sukuna's teammates — with his elbow.

*allusion to Oblivion

Sukuna huffed, turning around and raising a brow at the younger man, "Hell no," before walking away to the locker room. Jacob let out an audible 'huh?' before he turned to look at Gojo. "What's his problem?"

"Haha, you seriously don't know, man? Aren't you and Sukuna friends or something?" Gojo continued to laugh.

Geto frowned at his friend's behavior towards Jacob, "Don't worry about it, dude. There's plenty of other fish in the sea . . . just try not to get eaten by shark."

This made Jacob go 'huh?' again.

All the while, Sukuna went to finish up his shower and change, before exiting the locker room and searching for you. He walked up and down the court, waited outside the women's restrooms, looked under the bleachers (in case you had fallen through), but you were no where to be found.

Sukuna was completely and utterly puzzled. Where could you possibly be?

He didn't even get the chance to kiss you after his game; Sukuna's lips contorted into a pout.

Defeated, Sukuna resorted to just going to the parking lot and waiting for you by the car. When he neared the said car and saw your figure already sitting in the passenger seat on your phone, Sukuna started to pick up his pace.

"Hi, baby. Congratulations on your win," you placed your phone onto your lap when Sukuna entered the driver's seat. Sukuna frowned, making you ask, "What?"

"Tch. Nothing," Sukuna crossed his arms.

"You're so demanding," you giggle, pulling Sukuna in by the collar and meeting his lips with yours.

Sukuna smiled against your lips, humming in content.

You pulled away, "Why'd you take so long?"

"Was lookin' for you. But I guess you were already waiting f'me in the car."

"Ah, my bad. Anyways, what should we have for dinner? Or would you rather prefer eating out, since you won your game. It'll be on me," you laced your fingers with Sukuna's on the car's console.

"Let's eat out. And — I appreciate the offer, baby, I really do, but we all know I'm never letting you pay."

-

The next time you go to another of Sukuna's basketball games, Jacob finally grows the balls to talk to you himself — albeit, he was still confused from last week about why Sukuna wouldn't give him your number.

You mindlessly tap on your phone, waiting for Sukuna to meet you at the bottom of the bleachers — where you currently stand.

Out of the blue, you feel two arms wrap themselves around the curve of your waist before their owner pulls you in for a kiss. Sukuna, you think, as you kiss him back.

"Congrats, baby!" You pull Sukuna closer into a hug.

"Uh huh," that was all Sukuna could say, as he focused on making sure Jacob saw that you were wearing the jersey that he had forced you to wear. His jersey. His last name on your back. His team number.

All the while, Jacob stood with his mouth agape. From that day on, he never tried to approach you, much less looked in your direction ever again, in fear of his captain kicking him off the team.

A/N: Sukuna is such a baby, but he's my baby — this wasn't beta read btw, sorry; i cringe while reading my own writing

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #yay another request is done

[jazzyoranges]

hey. i really like the fic about shapeshitfing!reader x wednesday. i was wondering if u could do thing and reader being absolute besties and playful with each other which makes wednesday annoyed and sorta jealous.

Best friends

Wednesday Addams x fem!shapeshifter!reader

Words: 1.4k

A/n: lowk shapeshifter!r is so fun to write, thanks for all the requests about her :) hopefully you like reading about her a lot because honestly i’m a little obsessed with this universe

Warnings(?): wednesday being wednesday, ooc wednesday, mentions of knives and blood

“Why are you adamant on annoying me.” Wednesday opens her door to you, whose rapidly knocking stops when the look on Wednesday’s face doesn’t give much room for explanation. But you love being defiant so you don’t really care

“Thing and I planned to go on a date today!”

The Addams looks behind her to see the appendage with the tiniest little crocheted messenger bag that was worn on his wrist like a bracelet. You can see Wednesday’s forehead wrinkle when Thing saunters over to your feet for you to put him on your shoulder, just as you’ve seen Wednesday do countless times before

“I asked Thing if he had any rings to wear and he said no, so naturally I’m going to treat him on a day out” The appendage taps excitedly on your shoulder, poking at your face to signal he wants to go

“And when did you plan this?”

“After we played tag, you wanna come with us?” You ask with a turn of your head

“Shopping isn’t my strongest suit. I’d only slow you two down.”

“We’ll be off doing hot girl things. I promise I’ll have him home before curfew, Miss Addams” You treat Wednesday like she’s a disapproving mother, when in reality she looks unfazed and honestly a little annoyed. You and Thing wave goodbye, leaving Wednesday with her own thoughts as her roommate is doing god knows what with her friends

Time alone could be good for Wednesday. She’s been around people far more than she preferred. With maybe an hour on her hands before someone interrupts her, Wednesday sits at her desk to write

Her fingers drum against her desk, a habit she picked up from Thing. The appendage you were taking out on a date. For gods sake, he was a hand! You asked a singular appendage out on a date. Not even a full human. A fucking hand. A hand that didn’t have a voice, yet you were still infatuated with him nonetheless

And maybe Wednesday is smart enough to recognize she’s feeling a little peeved over a hand. Maybe Wednesday is smart enough to know Thing does have a voice; a sassy one at that. Maybe Wednesday is coping with the fact you wanted to take Thing out more than someone you actively sought out and saw every day

And maybe you’re the reason why Wednesday had to buy a slightly bigger trash can for the more recent mistakes she’s been making during her writing time

You were a disease. You forced your way into everyone’s life, but somehow you always came out with more friends and acquaintances than you started with. It was annoying how unforgivably social you were.

Your dumb smile with your pearly white teeth. Wednesday’s tapping on her desk got a little faster

Your need to include everyone whether you knew them or not. It was why you were on a date with Thing in the first place

Your everlasting hunger to be around someone. Wednesday knew you didn’t like to be alone

Your voice that Wednesday knew so well.

…

Fuck.

“Hey, Wens!” Enid makes her presence known with a sing-song tone while placing her jacket on the coat hanger near the door

“Where’s Thing? It’s quiet in here” The blonde immediately notices

“He’s on a date,” There’s a small pause after Wednesday talks “with (Y/n).”

“(Y/n) took Thing on a date?”

“Correct.”

“How’s your writing going?” Enid peers over Wednesday’s shoulder to look at her once again, full trash can. Enid notices that happens a lot when you’re on Wednesday’s mind for some reason. The Addams glares at Enid when she makes another mistake, crumbling up the piece of paper while maintaining eye contact with her roommate

“Great.”

A beat of silence.

“…did you seriously get cucked by a hand?”

“Repeat such degenerate nonsense and I’ll be forced to make sure you never will.”

“I dunno, you’re looking a little jealous over there” Wednesday doesn’t have to turn around to hear the wolfish grin in Enid’s voice

“The urge to push a knife through your skull is an insatiable hunger that cannot be fed by anything that isn’t your blood.”

//-//

“Do you like this one? See look, the dragon is the ring!” You place the ring on Thing’s middle finger. The appendage shows his approval with another few taps

“Yes, it makes you look tough. You want another one?” He nods. Well, at least makes it look like he’s nodding. You grab a silver ring from the display, putting it on his thumb

“Will Enid like the rings?” Thing signs

“Everyone will love them, especially Enid. You running out on lotion?”

“Nope! How can I repay you?”

You pretend to think for a second

“If you delete Enid’s blackmail on me off of all her devices I’ll take you out again, free of charge” The employee at the front is probably wondering why your back is turned to her while you’re whispering into your hands

Thing holds a thumbs-up and you take the two rings off his fingers and put them on the check out counter along with a few other little trinkets you liked and stuff for your friends

A pink and white bracelet with charms you knew Enid would find cute, scale earrings that twinkled in the sun that Bianca would look stunning in, a bee pin that was too perfect for Eugene, and a black snake that curled into itself as ring for Wednesday

You only assumed Thing gave you a blank stare when the cashier said your price was a bit more than a hundred fifty dollars. Your mom would definitely chastise you for your spending issues, but that was a problem for another day. Your current problem was that you had to get Thing home by curfew like you promised

//-//

Thing might not want to take up your invitation on another date anytime soon.

Currently you’re turned into a bird with the appendage hanging on for dear life on your back as you carry the bag of items you bought in your beak. Thing pleaded you just run on the ground like any normal animal, but you promised you’d get him home by curfew. Running would’ve taken too long and your ass would get tired

So instead, you went for the skies without Thing’s approval

He might hate you now, honestly. In your defense, it was too late when he told you he had a fear of falling when you were above tree height

You asked if he wanted to sit in the bill of a pelican instead and you felt him pluck one of your feathers. Lucky for you both, Wednesday and Enid’s room wasn’t too far away

When you land on the balcony of their dorm, Thing hops off your back and apologizes for your now lost feather. You also apologize for not planning correctly and having him on your back with little to no safety

Enid looks a little confused when Thing starts to hug the bird that landed on her balcony, but she eventually figures out it’s you. The blonde looks away for a second and you’re already a cat desperately knocking against their circle window to be let in

You walk in like you own the place, and Wednesday checks the clock if you actually got Thing home by curfew

“With minutes left to spare, too.” Wednesday says. You smile proudly

You jump up onto Enid’s bed, bag still in mouth. You push it over so it’s parallel to the bed, digging your head in until you find what you need. The pink and white bracelet with charms you got from Jericho. Enid makes sure to ruffle your fur so much it starts to stick out until she pats it down. Thing makes sure to tell Enid all about his day

Grabbing your bag, you make your way towards Wednesday, who’s reading a book with a dark cover on her bed

You look through the bag again, but this time with the aforementioned snake ring in your mouth. You keep your tongue away from the ring as much as possible to stop you from getting your saliva on it

Of course you thought about your friends while on a date.

Wednesday reaches out her hand, taking the ring from your mouth. She places it on her left ring finger and it seems to be a snug fit. There’s a wordless thank you in Wednesday’s eyes when she uses the same hand to scratch under your chin, making you purr

The happy expression on your face and the way you lean into her touch makes Wednesday’s heart melt the tiniest bit.

You crawl into Wednesday’s lap as she reads her book. Every now and again you can feel the now cold ring against your skin, sending shivers down your spine

You end up spending the night with Wednesday’s lips against the back of your ear and her hand on your stomach. It wasn’t your fault you were a cuddly cat.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x y/n #wednesday (2022) #wednesday x you #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #thing addams

[dear-bunnyboo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐈𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖

important note: my face claim will be madison beer but you can imagine whoever you desire. also the songs mentioned are not all technically all madison’s i will be incorporating other songs from other artists.

all the pictures seen below are not mine, however they were edited by yours truly. credits to the owners.

happy new year, my loves! 🎉🎊🍾 not the season we wanted, however, I know for a fact that the next one will be our comeback season!!! Hope this makes you guys happy even if for a little while.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader / Brief Ex!Jack Hughes x Singer!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You decided to go live… your fans are nosy, Joe is noisy.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, social media, media, hate comments, ig live comments, fluff, mentions of cheating ex, fluff, more fluffiness, tooth rotting moments, Joe Burrow being a simp, established relationship

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐲/𝐧_𝐲/𝐥/𝐧 started a live video.

You lounged on a plush couch in the heart of your stylishly decorated living room. Soft, ambient lights adorned the space, casting a warm glow on tasteful decor that bore witness to your numerous achievements. The room emanated a sense of comfort and sophistication, a reflection of your own laid-back yet refined taste.

Clutching your phone, you felt the familiar anticipation as she initiated an Instagram live session. Excitement filled the air as you looked into the camera, ready to connect with your fans after a hiatus from such spontaneous interactions. The room, a blend of neutral tones and vibrant accents, served as the perfect backdrop for you to share a slice of your life.

The subtle hum of background music added to the ambiance, enhancing the sense of ease that permeated the room.

You leaned back against the plush cushions, your eyes fixed on the phone's camera. "Hello, I’m gonna wait for people to come before starting.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧1: HELLOOOO QUEEENB!!!&3)373

𝐟𝐚𝐧2: MISS THING!? ARE MY EYES DECEIVING ME OR ARE U LIVE RN!??

𝐟𝐚𝐧3: y/n I love you 🩷🩷🩷

𝐟𝐚𝐧4: hello from Italy 🇮🇹

𝐟𝐚𝐧5: Omg! It’s been a while since you’ve been live 🥹🩵

“It's been a while, hasn't it? I don’t usually do lives but a lot of you guys have been asking me to, so… here I am.” You giggled.

The room feels cozy, with the soft glow of lights creating a warm ambiance. You can't help but smile as the viewer count rises steadily.

𝐟𝐚𝐧6: girl you look good 😫

𝐟𝐚𝐧7: 🧡🧡🧡

𝐟𝐚𝐧8: y/n you have no business looking so good like that at home.

𝐟𝐚𝐧9: are you making new music?

𝐟𝐚𝐧10: come to japan!!

Questions flood in, ranging from music updates to personal anecdotes. "Ah, someone asked about new music. You know I'm always working on something. I've got a few surprises up my sleeve, so stay tuned for that."

𝐟𝐚𝐧11: what’s your favorite genre?

𝐟𝐚𝐧12: where is y/bf/n?

𝐟𝐚𝐧13: talk about your breakup with Jack.

𝐟𝐚𝐧14: do you still watch Hockey?

𝐟𝐚𝐧15: GIRL WE NEED YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE ASAP!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧16: what’s your songwriting process?

The chat scrolls rapidly, and you pick a question about your music preferences. "Favorite genre at the moment? Honestly, it changes all the time, but lately, I've been vibing with some indie and acoustic stuff.”

As more questions pour in, ranging from songwriting inspiration to behind-the-scenes moments, you share glimpses of your creative process. "Songwriting is such a personal journey. It could be a fleeting emotion, a random moment, or even something a fan shares. Inspiration can come from anywhere, really."

“How fast can you write lyrics?” You read in the comments.

“Uhm, it depends. Sometimes I get a wave of ideas just flowing. But there are also times where I get stuck and it takes forever for me to continue… it really does depend. But the fastest song I’ve written is far, has to be Selfish and Reckless. I write those two back-to-back in about three, four hours.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧17: I bet it’s easier to write when you have A LOT of things to say.

𝐟𝐚𝐧18: can you say hello to my cousin, Annie?

𝐟𝐚𝐧19: pineapples on pizza? yes or no?

As the questions continued pouring in, you found yourself engrossed in the virtual conversation. Little did you know, the front door to your home had swung open, announcing the arrival of your boyfriend, Joe, fresh from hanging out with his friends.

The comments section, ever vigilant, caught the subtle sounds of the door and began buzzing with curiosity.

𝐟𝐚𝐧20: Did anyone else hear that? Is someone there?

𝐟𝐚𝐧21: is it y/bf/n? I hope it’s her, I love when they do lives together.

𝐟𝐚𝐧22: girl are you being robbed?

𝐟𝐚𝐧23: I don’t think she heard.

𝐟𝐚𝐧24: SOMEONE JUST ENTERED YOUR HOUSE MISS THING?!!!

Your fans, always quick to pick up on details, speculated about the unexpected noise.

Your eyes met Joe's from his place by the door, and a smile crept across your face. Ignoring the barrage of questions flooding the comments about the mysterious door sound.

As he moved closer to you, you moved the camera away from the two of you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips, “Hey, baby.” He mutters against your lips.

“Hello.” You whispered, pecking him one more time before moving away, facing the camera back to you as Joe walked towards the sofa, placing his things on it.

𝐟𝐚𝐧25: GOOD GOD IS IT JOE? AND DID I HEAR KISSING NOISES?!

𝐟𝐚𝐧26: she was just kissing someone right now 🥲

𝐟𝐚𝐧27: HI JOEEEE💕💕

𝐟𝐚𝐧28: imagine if she was cheating on Joe like she did with Jack and got caught on live 😂

𝐟𝐚𝐧29: OH ITS DEF JOE, DO U SEE HER SMILE 🥹

𝐟𝐚𝐧30: Who was that?

"Who was that?" you read from the comments, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. With a playful grin, you responded, "Santa." Giggles escaped your lips as you teased your online audience, fully enjoying the mysterious atmosphere you had unintentionally created.

Off-camera, Joe's puzzled expression deepened as he tried to make sense of your comment. Unaware of the ongoing live session, he exchanged a confused look with you, silently asking for an explanation.

𝐟𝐚𝐧31: oh they’re messing with us.

𝐟𝐚𝐧32: Y/N! STOP GATEKEEPING JOSEPH!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧33: Tell Joe I said hi.

𝐟𝐚𝐧34: Can you tease your new music?

𝐟𝐚𝐧35: BITCH WHAT DO YOU MEAN SANTA!?

𝐟𝐚𝐧36: “I saw mommy kissing, Santa Claus.” 😉

"Can you tease us about your new music?" you read from the comments, a gleam of excitement in your eyes. With a teasing smile, you responded, "Well, I'm planning on releasing an album soon." A collective wave of comments flood in your live as your fans absorbed the thrilling revelation.

The anticipation soared as you continued, "I've poured my heart and soul into this one. Some unexpected collaborations, and a sound that's a departure from what you've heard before. It's a journey, and I can't wait to take it with all of you.”

“That’s a bit of a generic answer.” You laughed as you read that comment.

“Okay, okay, I’m not allowed to talk about it too much as of now but since I love you guys too much… I can say that the vibes for this album would be the complete opposite of my previous one, Teardrops.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧37: EXCUSE ME!? DID SHE JUST CONFIRM A NEW ALBUM COMING SOOONNN!!?

𝐟𝐚𝐧38: HOLY SHIT! YES PLEASE 😍

𝐟𝐚𝐧39: opposite of Teardrops, she’s gonna be in her Lover era. Mark my fucking words.

𝐟𝐚𝐧40: release it now. I dare you to.

The comment section erupted with excitement, fans expressing their anticipation and excitement for the upcoming album. Amidst the flurry of reactions, the domestic sounds from Joe in the kitchen continued, adding a delightful and unintentional layer to the unfolding live session.

Amid the ongoing banter with your fans, the sound of Joe moving around in the kitchen reached the microphone, making a subtle entrance into the live. A clink of glasses and the humming of the refrigerator added a domestic soundtrack to the virtual conversation.

𝐟𝐚𝐧41: what in the hell is going on in your house?

𝐟𝐚𝐧42: IS JOE COOKING?!

𝐟𝐚𝐧43: I don’t think Joe knows how to cook, it’s sounds like he’s building something 💀

𝐟𝐚𝐧44: gurl—

𝐟𝐚𝐧45: I LOVE UUUUUU 😍😍

The comments section buzzed with speculation as your followers eagerly awaited an explanation.

“What’s that noise?”

Maintaining your composure, you chuckled, "Oh, just Santa making himself at home in the kitchen. You know how it is." The playful tone in your voice only fueled the curiosity of your audience, prompting more questions about the mysterious happenings in your house, knowing fully well it’s your boyfriend, Joe.

Joe silently took a seat behind the camera, handing you a glass of wine. A warmth spread across your face as you accepted it, maintaining your live composure. "I couldn’t find the fucking corkscrew to open the new bottle of wine your mom got us," he grunted, unaware of the ongoing live session.

Smiling, you tried to signal him discreetly with your eyes, conveying the message that you were live and to tread lightly on the conversation. "Yeah? Is that why you sounded like you were tearing up the place?" you playfully responded, taking a sip of the wine.

𝐟𝐚𝐧46: IT IS JOE!!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧47: that’s Joe’s voice

𝐟𝐚𝐧48: I wanna see him 🥺

𝐟𝐚𝐧49: HAHAHHA GOD HE’S SO CUTE.

𝐟𝐚𝐧50: he really wanted that corkscrew.

Little did you both know, your fans were going wild as they eavesdropped on this charming and candid exchange. The confirmation that it was indeed Joe from his distinctive voice sent the comments section into a frenzy of excitement.

"Who are you talking to, baby?" Joe asked, still clueless about the live session happening. "I'm live, bubs" you casually replied, flashing him a reassuring smile.

Joe's eyes widened in shock, realizing that your conversation had been broadcasted to an audience. Stunned and not entirely sure what to say, he glanced at the camera, suddenly aware that people were listening in on your cozy, domestic moment.

The fans, now privy to this unexpected revelation, flooded the comments with an enthusiastic mix of emojis and exclamations.

𝐟𝐚𝐧51: DID YALL HEAR HIS VOICE WHEN HE CALLED HER BABY!?)! IM UNWELL.

𝐟𝐚𝐧52: oh to be called by the Joseph Lee Burrow ‘Baby’

𝐟𝐚𝐧53: 🥰🥰🥰

𝐟𝐚𝐧54: BABY AND BUBS. IM SERIOUSLY NOT OKAY.

"Do you wanna say hi?" you asked Joe softly, well aware of his preference for privacy and aversion to attention. Despite his reservations, he entered the frame for your sake, a warm smile on his face.

"Hi," he greeted the camera before gently moving away, respecting his comfort zone.

The comments section erupted with joy, fans expressing their excitement and admiration for Joe's brief appearance.

𝐟𝐚𝐧55: HIIII!!!

𝐟𝐚𝐧56: OH HOT DAMN THAT MAN FINE 🥵

𝐟𝐚𝐧57: oh lawd.

𝐟𝐚𝐧58: good. god.

𝐟𝐚𝐧59: Y/N IS ONE LUCKKY GIRL WHAT THE HELL.

𝐟𝐚𝐧60: hello, Joe 😫

𝐟𝐚𝐧61: he’s so shy, it’s adorable.

As Joe retreated from the camera, you couldn't help but smile at the delightful chaos that ensued. The comments continued to overflow with love and appreciation, turning the live session into an unforgettable and cherished memory for everyone involved.

“It’s my birthday.” You read a comment. “Happy Birthday, love.”

Yawning and rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, you continued reading more comments from your fans. "You're tired," Joe observed, his voice lower but still audible to the viewers.

You shook your head, looking at him with puppy dog eyes, silently asking for permission to stay up a little longer.

Joe gave you a stern look, his voice barely above a whisper, "It's late, pretty girl." His hands appeared in the video, gently removing a strand of hair from your face.

"That's okay," you replied, trying to stifle another yawn. The fans, now witnessing this endearing interaction, flooded the comments with a mix of supportive and playful messages.

𝐟𝐚𝐧62: when will it be my turn 😩

𝐟𝐚𝐧63: COUPLE FUCKING GOALS.

𝐟𝐚𝐧64: it’s confirmed. Burrow is a SIMP.

𝐟𝐚𝐧65: is this too much to ask?

𝐟𝐚𝐧66: “pretty girl.” Goodbye.

"Don't stay up too late, okay?" Joe finally agreed, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before moving upstairs to get ready for bed.

"Mm hmm," you nodded, acknowledging his concern for your well-being.

The comments section filled with heart emojis and affectionate messages.

𝐟𝐚𝐧67: girl is better than me, cause if Joe Burrow called me a pretty girl and directed me to bed I would in a heart beat.

𝐟𝐚𝐧68: y/n it’s late go to sleep.

𝐟𝐚𝐧69: 💕💕💕💕💕

𝐟𝐚𝐧70: JOE IS THE ABSOLUTE SWEETEST.

As Joe disappeared from the frame, the live session continued, but there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The quiet acknowledgment of the bedtime routine added a touch of reality to the virtual interaction, creating a relatable moment that resonated with your audience.

“Now, where were we?” You smiled at the camera.

The warmth of the comments reflected the shared connection between you, Joe, and your fans, making the live session not just about entertainment but about genuine connection and shared experiences.

dividers: @cafekitsune

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @jackkyhughes @h0e4fictionalme-n @queenmendes @rd14 @scoobydoopoo @estapa94 @karmasabitchybitch @literaturelustrr @toterry @fangirl-madz @atticusismybae @stargaryenx @haydee5010 @porter113 @ryiamarie @starrgir1 @flwries @slafgoalskybaby @unsaidjaelinrose @in-my-body-bag @cixrosie @siutforjjmaybank @youn-jo @nobystanderz @bb-swift @buckystwilight @kidrauhlakaperf @kkrenae @catswag22 @hustler-sinner @asparklysoul @kaydesssssssss @97bngchn @dunningz @whiteleoqueen @austinswhitewolf @wickedfun9 @minkyungseokie @boldlypessimistic @utopiakys

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :) ˚

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡

-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ

#joe burrow #dear bunnyboo🏹 #theone🏹 #joe burrow x reader #jack hughes #cincinnati bengals #jack hughes x reader #joe brrr #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow bengals #joeburrow #joe shiesty #joey burrow #angry joe #joey b #joeburrowxfamous!reader #joeburrowxsinger!reader #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x oc #jack hughes x y/n #cheater!jackhughes #cheater!jackhughesxreader #ex!jackhughesxfamous!reader #ex!jackhughes #ex!jackhughesxsinger!reader #ex!jackhughesxreader

[envy-of-the-apple]

Sweet Home

idk how the multiverse works so im just fucking up the worldbuilding but basically my hc is that whenever a dimension suffers trauma (too many ppl leaving dimensions, rift in time etcetc), it will create a shield around itself, preventing anyone from entering or leaving as it works to self-correct. 

(Yandere, dark, kidnapping, captive, delusional behavior, gn reader, implied deaths, talks of bombs)

Yandere!Miguel O'hara x reader

Honestly, you weren’t much of a threat. 

It was a rather misfortunate case of wrong place wrong time. One second, you were in your home, mulling about. The next, you were across dimensions. 

At least, that’s how it was explained to you. You had no idea there could be more than one spiderman, and now you were surrounding by millions. Maybe even billions. Here they all were. Heroes, all working together to save the multiverse, returning innocent people, like you, back to where they came from. 

But, according to Miguel, you were a special case. 

“It’s not too hot, this time?” He asks, his face in the same scowl as always. Before, you assumed he hated you. Now, you realize the man had a hard time showcasing emotion. 

It’s still there, though. You can see the concern in his eyes as they soften ever so slightly, as if he was remembering the scalding hot tea that burned your tongue. 

You tasted it, smiling at its perfection. When you mentioned you preferred something sweet, you had almost choked on the lump of sugar at the end of the cup Miguel prepared. After that, he was much more lenient with sugar. 

Ever since, you were put into his custody, he made it very clear your comfort would be his top priority. You never considered a superhero agency to be comforting, but the room he lent you was spacious and had a warm fluffy bed, food was always delicious, the guilt-filled gifts were always nice. It was clear the man spared no expense. 

“It’s perfect,” you say, “thank you.” 

He gives a smile. Though, it’s strained, like he’s not sure if he’s doing it correctly. He finally gives up, staring down at your techband. It wasn’t as sophisticated as his, you understood why you couldn’t have one, you were just grateful it stopped you from glitching. 

“So...is there anything new?” You ask, careful to broach the subject. 

You couldn’t go back home, not yet. It had taken a while for you to calm down when you were first brought here. You had been terrified, fearing for your life surrounded by these strangers who all strangely resembled spiderman. It was Miguel that had talked you down. He wasn’t patronizing, didn’t coddle you, but he wasn’t unkind. 

He explained things carefully. When you had been ripped from your dimension, something had gone wrong. The dimension had closed in, as if it were a living creature defending itself, an armadillo creating a thick shell. No one could go in or out. 

So, here you stayed at the spiderman’s headquarters, temporarily dimensionless. 

You peered into Miguel’s face. He was tired. He always looked tired. You wondered if he was getting enough sleep. Guiltily, you knew you were partially a reason for that. 

“Nothing.” He sighed. “We still can’t communicate to your spiderman, nor can we break into the gates. So far, no progress.” 

You had a feeling that’d be the case. You gave a strained smile, feeling more and more hopeless. 

“Hey.” His hand was warm on your shoulder. “I’ll find a way to get you back home, I promise. Don’t give up on me just yet.” 

He was close, leaning in just so your faces were inches apart. Miguel was just being kind, you knew that. But his height and stature had always intimidated you. A part of you was sure he knew that. It was why he would always hover over your, like it was some way to subconsciously keep you in check. 

It was an absurd thought. As always, you shook it off. 

“And besides, if we can’t, you’re always free to stay here.” He gave a lazy wave to the spacious room filled with gadgets you couldn’t even begin to describe. 

 It was a joke. You knew that. Miguel was adamant about ‘anomalies’ being returned to where they belonged. You were certain he would’ve thrown you back into your dimension if the situation were different. Yet, just the thought of staying here forever, never seeing your friends or family ever again tugged on your heart. 

You appreciated everything Miguel had done for you, he had gone above and beyond, but you were lonely. Due to protocol, only Miguel was able to see you. You understood it, but it didn’t mean you were not allowed to have human emotions. 

You longed for home. 

He must have seen it in your eyes because he pulled back some. The lines on his face hardened ever so slightly. He was angry. Not at you. Never at you. 

“You done with that?” He changed the subject, gesturing to your cup. 

Nodding, you return it to him gratefully. He stands up, grabbing the remnants of lunch and dirty dishes. 

“I’ll be back.” He tells you, and he’s assured you plenty of times that you weren’t, but it was hard not to feel like a prisoner as you watched him leave through a metal door. 

You waited for ten seconds, and then you rose from your own seat. 

There were only two rooms you had access to. Your own, and then Miguel’s office. 

Well, it wasn’t really an office. It was a large computer room, but Miguel always worked here, and you always kept him company, much preferring the companionship of at least one human rather than the solitude of your bedroom. 

Over time, he seemed to trust you a bit more. Or maybe he started underestimating you. Over time, he had accidentally given you most of the passwords to this place, not really paying attention as you not-so-secretly spied on his work.

You felt a little guilty for snooping, but a part of you was frustrated. You’d been stuck here for weeks, with no concrete answer. Miguel always seemed to evade your questions. You wanted an explanation. Assurance. 

Strangely enough, you felt a little old as you clumsily operated a machine that was decades into the future. It was a humbling experience. You typed in your dimension number, a sequence you knew by heart. 

Huh. 

You weren’t sure what a closed dimension looked like, but it certainly wouldn’t look like this. It looked fine. Despite your minimal experience with looking at dimension maps, you could tell the gates were opened. You could even see tiny dots flitting in and out. People.

Everything looked fine. 

Then...why did Miguel say you couldn’t go home? 

“What are you doing?” 

You hadn’t even noticed he’d come back. He had been so silent. Like a spider. 

You whirl around to face him. For the first time, you realize you’d never actually seen him without his signature blue and red costume. His face was stony. His demeanor had changed, as if earlier he was actively trying to pretend around you. Before, he used to slouch slightly, his hands would drape awkwardly at his sides. Now, his back was straight, arms ready. 

You’d never thought Miguel as threatening before.

Still, you try your best to loosen the sudden tension in the room. You give a sheepish smile, hoping it doesn’t wobble like your heartbeat. 

“I think my dimension just opened up,” You mutter, halfheartedly pointing to the screen, “Does this mean I can go back home?” 

He steps forward. You inch backward as he makes his way over to the computers. All the screens shut off. You can barely see him in the dim light. 

He works he jaw, like he wants to tell you something but can’t. 

Despite your heart going a mile a minute, you don’t want to be scared of Miguel. The only friend you had here. You bite your lip, gaining all the courage you could. 

“Did you lie to me?” It was a stupid question. Of course Miguel would say no. He wouldn’t do this to you. He couldn’t. 

His eyes slice into you. Crimson. 

“Yes,” he says simply, “I did.” 

You weren’t expecting that. You couldn’t have. Your mind was whirling, desperately trying to piece together an explanation. 

The tears burned in your eyes. You forced yourself to keep them at bay. 

“Why?” It was barely a whisper, you weren’t sure if he had heard you. 

He rakes his hand through his hair. It was something he did when he was stressed. You’d once jokingly told him that if he kept doing that he’d go bald. 

You had joked with this man. 

“I was going to put you back,” He said, almost like he was pleading to you. As if you were his judge, his executioner, and not his helpless prisoner. 

“That was the plan. I was going to put you back but...” He sucks in a breath. He gives a laugh with no real mirth. 

“But then I realized how much safer you’d be here.” 

You didn’t understand. You take another step back. He follows. 

“Your dimension opened back up two weeks ago.” You’d been stuck here for three. “Communication has resumed like normal. I lied about that.” 

It felt like a sick prank. Like he would suddenly start laughing, telling you how gullible you were. 

But it feels even worse when he doesn’t do that. He just stares, almost like he feels sorry for you. 

You don’t want his pity. 

“You haven’t met your dimension’s spiderman, have you?” He suddenly asks. “He’s a good kid. But that’s all he is. Just a kid. Thinks everything comes easy. His fate is worse than most.” 

“His recklessness causes a bomb to detonate. 126 people die.” His gaze is stiff on your figure. 

“Including you.” 

You freeze, staring at him, unable to move. The word of your death still lingered in the air. 

“I told myself I’d send you back,” he continues staring into the dark screens, “But you were so sweet and you made me feel so-” He cuts himself off with a huff. 

“I always have to make the right decision. Every time.” He finally says, looking back at you. 

“Just for once, I wanted to be selfish.” 

“Miguel-” 

“I won’t.” He interrupts. “I’ll keep you here. I’ll keep you safe. I always keep things that belong to me safe.” 

You don’t like how he phrased that. You don’t like anything about this. This didn’t sound like your Miguel. 

Or did you even know him? Was the weeks of kindness all an act? A ploy to keep you satisfied?

Look how wonderfully that worked? You walked right into his trap like a stupid butterfly, struggling in the sticky webs. 

“You said it yourself,” you whisper, “I’m an anomaly. I can’t-I can’t stay in a dimension that isn’t mine. I could cause rifts-or-or even worse disasters.”

You try to throw his words back at him, hoping it’d knock some sense into him. He just gives a hum at your attempts. 

“Not if you stay here,” he replies, “Not if I keep you contained. Keep you here.” 

You shake your head, stepping back. This felt like a nightmare. The tears were falling in full force, down your quivering chin as you stare at him. 

“You-you can’t do that,” You mutter, backing up against the wall as he makes his way towards you, “You can’t do that.”

He crowds you against him, hushing you as he bundles you up to his chest, stroking your hair. He’s so warm. His scent of woodland mountains is so strong. He suffocates you. You hadn’t realized it until just now. 

“I know you don’t understand.” Miguel replies, sounding so genuine. It makes you sick. “But you will. One day. One day you’ll thank me for saving you.” 

Saving you. This wasn’t saving you. This was keeping you. This was killing you. 

“I want to go home.” Your voice breaks, cracks under the weight of his confession. “Miguel please. I-I need to go home.” 

For the first time, he smiles. A sincere smile. 

A condescending smile. Like you’ve said something adorably naïve. 

“Mi amor.” He purrs, affectionately kissing your cheek. 

“You are home.” 

#yandere #delusion #dark content #atsv x reader #gn reader #miguel ohara #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #spiderverse #non con touching #kidnapping #yandere miguel o'hara #oh no miguel im so sorry your wife and kid died #bummer #anyway theres this cute thai place down the road

[joedirtymadre]

Imma need a part 2 of bothersome🫣🥺PLEASEEE

Bothersome - Part 2

LAW X READER!! (PLEASE SEND MORE REQUESTS! PLEASE! 🙏)

You stood at the edge of the ship, watching the sunset slowly set. After Punk Hazard, you all returned back to the ship. Out to Dressrosa, to help Law with whatever he was planning. “So you’re just going to ignore me?” That deep voice called out to you. You continued staring out to the sea, hearing footsteps behind you come closer. You could sense him standing next to you, staring at you.

“What’s wrong with that? You did it to me throughout our relationship,” you said softly.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). Please forgive me, what I did was wrong and I don’t want this affecting the allia-“ you quickly cut him off. “Why would our past affect the alliance? Did you honestly think I haven’t moved on by now?” You laughed. “I-… No I didn’t think that, but…” he trailed off. “Don’t worry, I’ll happily accept my captain’s orders… even if it means having to be in alliance with you,” you said coldly.

You turned around and headed towards the girl’s quarters. “(Y/N), I wasn’t done speaking!” He said, as he followed me. “Ok, so what else did you have to say?” You asked as you turned back to face him. “U-Uh… well you look… nice. How have you… been?” He asked awkwardly. “You really want to have a quick catch up?” You scoffed. “Well like you said we’re in an alliance now, so we should be able to have civil conversations,” he explained. You raised an eyebrow, “Traffy, weren’t you the one that tried to explain to Luffy that an alliance doesn’t mean we’re friends?” You asked.

“Not you using that dumb name too… a-and I did but-“ you cut him off. “Exactly! Thank you for remembering! Now I’ll be off to my room,” you said as you turned back and quickly entered your room before he could stop you.

You threw yourself on your bed, “Just another example of having the worst luck ever… Now I have to see and help my ex for who knows how long,” you sighed as you stared at the ceiling. “This is all so stupid and awkward!” You said to yourself as you rubbed your head. Out of all people, him?! At this point you would’ve preferred if Kidd showed up or something… And what the hell is up with him trying to have small talk with me? Does he expect me to be buddy buddy with him like nothing happened?

You quickly sat up, and shook your head. “Stop thinking about him. We’re over him, he doesn’t affect us anymore…” you said to yourself as you felt tears fall down your face. “God I’m so stupid!” You yelled.

Suddenly you heard the door open, and you quickly wiped away any tears. “(Y/N)? Are you awake?” You heard Robin call out. “Hi Robin,” you sniffled. “What’s wrong?” She asked as she sat on the edge of your bed. “It’s nothing, just some bad memories…” you said, as you avoided her eyes. “You know you can tell me, I’m your friend (Y/N),” she smiled as she placed her hand on top of mine. “I know, thanks,” you smiled softly. “I came to check on you, because I saw how upset you looked after speaking with Trafalgar,” she replied. “Yeah, I just don’t feel too comfortable around him,” you confessed. “You should tell Luffy, I’m sure he’ll under-“ you quickly cut her off. “No! No…” you repeated. “I can’t let him know! I can’t-“ you shut your mouth, afraid of your voice cracking.

“Let him get to you? I don’t understand,” she said, confused. You sat there in silence, pondering whether to tell her or not. “(Y/N), I’ll always be here for you. Do you and Trafalgar have a past history?” She asked. “Mhmm… I used to be a part of his crew, before I left…” you trailed off. “You left? Why?” She asked. “We were dating… until he shared his true feelings with me. I couldn’t stay there, not after what he said to me… So I left, while he was distracted by some Marines,” you explained, feeling a heavy weight fall off your shoulder. “Oh my,” Robin gasped. “Yep, so now we’re in an alliance with him. It’s weird, and I’ve moved on… but it sucks seeing him,” you said slowly.

“I see,” she said softly. “It’s ok, we’ll show him that you’ve grown. That no matter what he does, he can’t hurt you. Especially when you have friends here that will support you,” she smiled as he wrapped me into a hug. “You’re right!” You grinned. Your beautiful moment was quickly interrupted by your stomach growling. “Ah… I guess all this talk got me hungry,” you said sheepishly. “Let’s go get dinner,” Robin said. You nodded and the both of you quickly headed to the dining table.

You sat in between Robin and Luffy, and across from… Law. “Here you go everyone, dinner’s ready!” Sanji smiled as he sat down to eat. “Thank you,” we all said and quickly began eating. You reached forward for a rice ball, and brushed your hands against Law’s. You immediately flinched, looking up to see him staring your way.

You quickly grabbed a rice ball and pulled your arm away. You began to eat, trying to look anywhere but his direction. “Hey (Y/N)!” Said Luffy, breaking you out of your concentration. “Y-Yes?” You stuttered as you looked next to you. “Are you gonna finish your meat?” He asked, drooling. “Luffy! Leave (Y/N)’s food alone!” Sanji yelled. “It’s fine, you can have it Luffy,” you smiled as you handed him your plate.

“Thanks!” He smiled, but it quickly turned into a frown as he stared at you. “Something wrong?” You asked. “Yeah… one sec,” he said as he moved his hand to your face. Slowly wiping away at your cheek, you felt your cheeks heat up. “Sorry, you had rice on your cheek,” he laughed. “Oh, thanks,” you smiled. “Ow!” Luffy yelled, causing everyone to focus their attention on him. “Someone stepped on me!” He huffed. “Huh?” You questioned.

“You’re just imagining it,” Nami said. “Here Luffy, take my sandwich,” you said as you placed it onto his plate. “Wow!” He said, quickly changing his focus back onto his food. You slowly turned your eyes to the man in front of you. You almost fell out of your seat, once seeing the daggers that this man was staring into you.

“I-I’ll think I’ll call it an early night, night you guys,” you said as you quickly headed out of the dining room.

“Man that was tense,” you sighed as you walked towards your room. You slowly reached for the door knob, before suddenly being turned over and being pushed against the wall. You grunted as your back hit the door, you quickly opened your eyes to see that you were trapped by… Law… “T-Traffy?” You asked nervously. “So I see that you moved on, but I didn’t know you had a thing for captains,” he said coldly. “Woah… Woah… you think I moved from you onto Luffy? You’re crazy,” you laughed.

You noticed a light pink hue on his cheeks, as you continued to laugh. “Well why the blushy face when he reached for your face?” He questioned. “Well… wouldn’t anyone blush if you had food on your face and your friend took it off?” You asked. “I- Uh-“ you quickly cut him off. “Look like someone else needs to move on,” you laughed again, while slowly turning around to open the door. But was quickly turned back around, “Stop messing with me!” He yelled.

“What do you want from me? Do you still wish that I head head over heels for you, well tough shit cause you messed that up!” You yelled. You noticed that he was slightly taken aback by your response. “So what if I end up liking Luffy or whoever! That has nothing to do with you! You’re nothing to me, nothing,” you growled as you pushed him away.

“I’m not the same girl anymore, that would follow your every word. Or kiss the floor where you stepped on,” you glared. “So just leave me alone… haven’t you done enough?” You asked as you were finally able to open the door to the girls’ quarters. You quickly entered the door, ignoring Law’s calls for you. As you went to slam the door, a foot stopped it from slamming.

“Jesus Christ, you just don’t know when to leave a girl alone…” you groaned. “I’m sorry… I just want to say that I’m sorry,” he peeked through. “Ok now mov-“ he cut you off. “I’m sorry… for what I said. When you left, I realized how much I missed you- needed you… We went back to the island, but you were already gone. I don’t know what went over me, I-I missed your laughs, your smile, you interrupting me from my work, calling me honey… I know I screwed up, and seeing you now… Just reminds me of when we were still together… but I guess that’ll never be the case again,” he confessed. You stayed silent. “I’ll leave you alone, or as much as I can… I just wanted to let you know how I felt,” he said softly before removing his foot. Finally allowing you to shut the door.

You let out a deep sigh, and slowly slid down against the door. “Why do I feel like this?” You asked yourself as you clenched your hair. “What do I do now…?” You softly cried into your arms.

#anime fanfic #fanfic #fluff #angst #x reader #anime #one piece fluff #one piece x y/n #one piece #trafalgar d law fluff #law x y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #law fluff #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #monkey d luffy fluff #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #one piece x reader #law angst #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law angst #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law #straw hat luffy #straw hat pirates #one piece law #one piece angst

[grandmother-goblin]

Since the full game came out and we got all of Astarion’s story, I feel like I’ve seen a lot of people… de-fang him? If that makes sense?Especially with the spawn ending (spawn ending is my preferred ending too which makes me doubly bummed)

Here’s what I mean. Astarion is a little shit. A little shit who has been through a whole lot of terrible things, but he’s still a jackass. Even at the end of the game (only talking about a Good run where he doesn’t Ascend here), even when he softens a bit and doesn’t hate Tav helping people and being nice, even after he falls in love, he is still a jerk.

And I LOVE that Astarion is an asshole. It’s honestly one of my favorite qualities of his. It’s what made me like his character in the first place was that I wanted to figure out what made him “like that.”

It feels like, especially with a lot of recent fan art and fan fic (all lovely! Please don’t get me wrong! I’m not pointing fingers at anyone in particular) he’s been re-interpreted as almost too soft. Especially in regards to sex and romance.

I could go on, but I really don’t want people to light me on fire lol. It’s probably just a me thing, but it bums me out that a lot of people’s reactions (at least from what I’ve seen, I’m no doubt missing things) to his backstory is to have Romanced!Tav handle him as if he were made of porcelain rather than treat him like a normal person.

#grandmother goblin grumbles #astarion

[pickingupmymercedes]

Ways to say "I love you" part 2 - Lewis Hamilton

I think we all deserve a little something after the horror we went through in today's race ❤️

warnings: mentions of blood, accidents and bit of angst

wordcount: +2k

important: again, each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. Special thank you for my 💗 anon for helping with some of the ideas

As always, my asks are open for corrections, ideas and just to chat too!

Over a cup of tea

“We need to talk this through, before it blows in our faces, Lewis” Serious expression on your face as you handed him the cup of tea on the balcony of your apartment overlooking London.

“Mhmm, we do?” He questioned confused.

“Yes…what exactly are we?” You couldn’t look him in the eye as you questioned him, too embarrassed you weren’t sure if what you felt the night before was real, even if come the morning he was still there, as he had been for the past two months.

“Those words last night meant nothing to you?”

“They meant the world, actually”

“But you don’t feel the same?” The confusion now passed on to him, forehead scrunching as he questioned if he hadn’t read your relationship right, and your body responding before your head could think it through as you reached for the hand he willingly let you take.

“I… I need to feel safe to say it back.” You responded after a few awkward seconds of silence as he waited for your response.      

“I want you, if you’ll have me. I really do love you. And you don’t need to say it back now, just let me know if this relationship is for real, because I want it to be.” He said looking into your eyes, anxiously waiting until you lifted your head to give you a smile.

“Thank you for understanding” You said buried into his neck as you took the tea away from his hands and brought him closer.    

Over a bottle of wine

“Found board games!” You excitedly exclaimed as you walked back into the house. Tiny feet stomping away and reaching you in seconds.

“Is there Monopoly? Uncle Lew said we could be here for daayssss” Willow was the first one to start taking the boxes as you handled her and Kaiden the pile you had just borrowed from the nearest neighbor

“Are they still stuck in New York?” You asked Lewis just as he set his phone down.

“Earliest forecast is tomorrow night, possibly” a concerned look to him as his mom and sisters got stuck in a snow storm on their way from England to Colorado.

“Guess we have these two to ourselves then”  

“Granny said it’d be good practice for you to take care of us” Kaiden chirped in but not fully aware of the shock in Lewis’ face at the remark.

“It’ll be fun when there’s two more girls to play with” This time Willow getting you to choke on the water you were drinking.

“Why two girls?” Lewis amusedly asked, aware you were still trying to hold the laughter in the kitchen

“Dunno” She simply shrugged as she helped her brother set up the game.

“Two girls, huh?! You know people say I’m a girl dad…” He brought back the subject as he picked up the mess left in the living room, a glass of wine open on the kitchen counter and two glasses already in your hands as you approached him after putting the kids to bed.  

“I think I’d be happy with that” Your soft smile easing the tension you felt in him as he mentioned kids with you for the first time, handing him his glass and dragging him to sit down on the sofa for a bit.

“I think I’d prefer a boy then a girl, you know, so he could be there for her.” He said after a bit of silence, almost as if he was pondering what would be best order, and you could feel the yearning to have kids of his own in his voice.  

“I agree with the internet people on that one, you’re too much of a girl dad, babe” You set your drink on the side table, cuddling closer to his chest as he pondered on his glass.

“Doesn’t really matter, honestly, just one would be more than enough. As long as I got you too”

As an apology

“What the hell was THAT for?” You threw your handbag and phone all the way across the kitchen island as you looked at Lewis standing at the door, an annoyed look to him.

“That guy shouldn’t have approached you” His mind still on the tall blue-eyed dude that tried to buy you a drink at the club.

“I can handle myself you know?! Never had the need for a knight in shining armor…” all your anger gone as you realized how absurd that sounded when said to your knighted boyfriend, a smile cracking the tough face you were fighting hard to keep.

“I love you, okay?! You may not need to be saved from a monster but you’re gonna have a knight by your side regardless.”

Taking the cue, he reached for you and brought you close by your waist, tucking one side of your hair behind your ear while using his other one to caress your check.

“Yes sir.” His sweet eyes turning into dark one as he heard you whisper the title and felt your hands rummage through his back. 

As a hello

You smelt his cologne before he walked back into the room from the bathroom, woody and citric tones overcoming your senses as a light tug at your exposed breasts demanded your attention back.

“Hey darling, you done there? Sure you don’t anymore?” The little fingers of your month-old baby girl clutching your fingers as you softly redirected her small mouth back to the spot her eyes wildly looked for.

“Gosh, I love you two so much” His remark a common occurrence in your daily routine in the bubble of nappies, changes and feeds your lives had turned into those past weeks, in the dead of the cold but sunny winter in Monaco.

“Hello to you too, hot stuff” he smiled back as you checked his toned abs adorned by the towel in his waist, sitting by your side in the headboard of your bed, hands caressing your thighs.

“You sure you’re going to be okay here this weekend?” Concern written all over his features as he stroked your daughter’s tiny legs.

“Your mom’s here, my mom’s here, we’re gonna be just fine Lew.” His eyes searching for any doubts in your mind.   

“I’m only a call away, okay?!” He whispered as he kissed your head, enjoying the last moments he would have with his little family for a few days before yet another season began. 

With a shuddering gasp

It’s funny how time really is relative, you thought as you slowly watched four cars pile onto each other in a traffic jam that had just about three other cars in front already. You weren’t even paying attention to the road before, only really looking up from your phone when your car suddenly swerved right and hit the grass on the side of the road.

“Are you okay y/n?” His whole body hovering over yours, hands already unbuckling your seatbelt as Lewis tried to grab your attention.

“C’mom babe, we need to get you out of the car, now” He tried again but you couldn’t respond back, still in shock from the near miss, your hands a wobbly mess as he squeezed it.

“I’m carrying you outside, okay?!” He didn’t even wait for a reply before lifting you like you weighed nothing, examining you in the process to check for anything hurt while he carried you to the rest of people waiting by the road.

It took a while, more than a few minutes for your eyes to start focusing back on your surroundings. He was knelt right in front of you, worry all over as he asked again and again if you were hurt.

“You saved us” You gasped quietly as your eyes finally reached his, his hands cupping your face the second he heard you, your lips already on his as you felt his arms taking you into his body.

In a letter

You’d been, since the beginning, the one he wanted, comings and goings through the years hadn’t been able to diminish the electric pull he felt whenever he saw your smile light up the room, even from afar. But as if the universe liked having a laugh at their expenses, time and time again you’d both find your lives going in complete opposite directions. So, as he sat in his desk writing his vows, he could only be amazed that by some miracle he had found his way into your life and into your heart.

“ … So, I vow to be your lover, companion, partner and ally. Through what may I promise to always be there. I might not have the answers or tools but I’ll walk with you, through the darkest of valleys or at the summit of our dreams.

I love you for you, because you give me the chance to be my truest self, because when you’re around I know we’ll find our way through. I love you, and from the moment I learned that, I’ve been giving it my all to be worthy of you.”

When the broken glass litters the floor

“Fuck, why did I do that?” Your exclamation coming out a bit louder than expected as your eyes started to water from the sharp pain in your hand, blood already dripping from the gush on the palm as you looked to the pieces of the glass on the floor.

“Babe? What’s happened, what was that noise?” His voice coming from just outside the bathroom door, fidgeting with the lock to try and get in.

“Please, let it be a good timing” Was all you could whisper to yourself, the knot in your throat almost suffocating you, the reality of it all too much to comprehend or process, your feet automatically swerving the glass and blood on the floor to get to the door.

“I hope you don’t have anything important going on in the next months” you said just as his eyes tried to scan you and the bathroom. His features with confusion all over as you handled him the stick with the 2 lines on them.

“What’s… but the doctor said…really?” You watched as all types of emotion tumbled across his eyes, overwhelmed an understatement to what you both felt at that moment.

You nodded just slightly after a few moments of his eyes questioning yours, the start of a smile forming on his lips as his arms reached you and engulfed you in a hug, crashing your injured hand in the process.

“Ouch, hand” He froze as you winced, putting two and two together, looking to the blood and the remains of the glass and seeing the injure on your palm for the first time.

“I do hope this kid takes after you and isn’t as clumsy” You pointed as he sat you down at the tub to check the cut. His smile reaching all the way to his eyes as he chuckled and looked at you.

“Nah, I hope this kid is every bit just like you.”

With no space left between us

You could feel his movements as he opened the parachute and brought you two back down to safe land, but nothing managed to tear your eyes from the immensity of the sky. There was infinity as long as your eyes could see and you were nothing in comparison, your thoughts long lost to the smallness of human race.

“You were awfully quiet up there, you good?” His voice a bit dry from the wind, your bodies tightened together as the guys got you both out of the mess of ropes.

“I think I’m still processing how small we really are” You answered almost to yourself, still trying to comprehend what you had just experienced.

“Another go at tandem is due then?” You saw the smirk in his face as you turned to look at him, his arms still very much wrapped around you and his fingers circling in your forearm.

“Thank you for dragging me out here, but how did you know I’d like skydiving?!” You reached back to his arms while they strapped you out of the seat, holding him closer, still with the ghost feeling of the wind around.

“I love you… that’s how I knew you’d love it.” He said to your hair as he held you to him, smug face as he reveled in the feeling of you.  

From very far away

The speakers blasted the victory song as each of the three drivers on the podium sprayed champagne around, everyone drenched and smiles thrown left and right, laughs being heard all the way around the Monza podium.  

As Lewis stood by the edge of the platform, he lifted his trophy at the sea of Tifosi, as a way to show appreciation for the support so far on the season and at his new home race, dedicating his win to them.

Turning to the pitlane he also pointed his trophy to the Ferrari team, scanning the crowd he found you at, just by Fred and Anthony, tears flowing down and a gleaming smile that could light up his entire soul. You tried mouthing something to him but he couldn’t quite make it out in the overwhelming state you were all in.

“I love you” he said to you, from the top of the podium, knowing that whatever it was you were saying, and whatever it was that happened, could be answered and resolved with those three words.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

[popponn]

call you later; 1.

notes: what if you didn't pick up their call? they left a voicemail, in their own ways. characters: isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, seishirou nagi. [ part 2 : rin, bachira ]

isagi yoichi

Probably felt a little bit sad you didn’t pick up. You are probably his first crush—and only, for a long time, maybe, and this boy is committed with capital C when he is into something—so don’t be too hard on him. Like, hey, his #2 after the soccer itself didn’t pick up his phone? Poor guy.

But like the considerate boy off the pitch he is, Yoichi will immediately give you a brief of what he wanted to tell you before leaving the classic note of ‘i will call you again later’. It won’t be overly long, as he prefers to talk to you rather than to the empty void of a voicemail. Or at least he intends so to seem polite and proper, until he stutters and tripped all over his words a little bit. It’s cute though.

All in all, probably one of the most normal guy from Blue Lock, as usual, and whatever sad feelings he had from getting his call not being picked up will be gone the moment he got the chance to talk to you. A little advice, just make sure to actually call him later—knowing you reach out to him as soon as you can will make Mr. Egoist pretty happy.

“Uh, so… are you busy? Wait—you are not picking up of course you are busy…” Yoichi trailed off with a nervous laugh. “But, so, anyway, about our promise to walk around Saitama, I was wondering if your schedule is free this Sunday? I got two weeks off Blue Lock but I kinda want to make sure we can do it as soon as we can, so if anything comes up—ah, but I didn’t mean it in a bad way!”

It took Yoichi a few seconds to gather his composure before he continued, “I mean, uh, yeah, I just want to do it with you soon. I will call you again so we can talk about it later! Work hard, or have a good time! See you!”

itoshi sae

First of all, how dare you. He is famous and probably have people lining up for his number while you get him punching your number and didn’t pick up. Just for that, Sae might throw a tantrum, albeit a silent one.

On a more serious note, he will raise an eyebrow honestly, especially if you are the type to usually answer. But he is pretty independent most of the time, so he will only left a few words on the voice mail. In some occasions, though, when he just calls for the sake of listening to you, he will feel a little bit down. You can cheer him up later—you should, actually. Sometimes talking with Sae requires advanced mind reading technique and when he is a little bit down or pissed you really have to use that skill. Because boy, this guy is pretty constipated emotionally.

So, end notes, just call him real soon, okay? He might act cold and tough but he is also someone whose favorite show is Chibi Maruko-chan. He won’t say much in the voicemail or act like it afterwards, but he might really wait for you to call back, especially if he didn’t hear anything from or about you for a day. Though, honestly, just call him back or answer his next call before five seconds so everyone could be saved from his scathing vocabularies.

“What do you want for dinner? I’m picking you up later,” Sae said without wasting a second. “Hurry up and decide, then call me soon, got it? And in case you are thinking of anything funny, finish whatever you are working on first, then call me as soon as possible.”

For a moment, it was as if he was done. Then, a few beats of silence passed and he continued, “…and honestly… nevermind. Just call me soon.”

nagi seishirou

Yeah, let’s be real—he won’t leave a note and just give up. He willed out energy to call you first and you asked more from him? Wow. The fucking audacity.

But, let’s say, he really really wants to talk to you at the time and is in a really really really good mood—it will be long, if only for the long pauses. He will speaks sparsely, like the personification of bullet notes, as he doesn’t really see the point in talking if you are not really there to begin with. But, at the same time, Nagi Seishirou is also a Blue Lock egoist and he thinks having you listen to his voice note for a long time is not exactly a bad thought.

In the end, though, he really just want to hear your voice, actually. So, sooner or later, he will end the note with a ‘call me soon’ and plays a few games while waiting for you. The guy really need to recharge whatever small battery he has with you, so you really better call back if you don’t want to deal with a pouty Nagi holding a petty grudge for three minutes. And come on, do it for Reo, dude has way too much on his plate already.

“Eh, why are you not picking up?” Seishirou started with a complain, before immediately staying silent for a long time. Clearly on purpose, rather than for trying to remember something. “…I want to talk to you, so call me later, ‘kay?” he continued, in the end. “Choki also misses you by the way. You love Choki, right? So you really better call me back.”

Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Oh, I also have something I want to show you. So, let’s meet up next week. That’s all. Later.”

#bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock scenarios #nagi seishiro #itoshi sae #nagi seishirou #isagi yoichi #itoshi sae fluff #itoshi sae x reader #nagi seishirou x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi fluff #nagi seishirou fluff #i finally write a scenario!!!!! yay!!! #you can see who is my oshii but trust me i love em all

[bubblyqueer000]

can i get headcanons for hajime, nagi, shuichi, and koki with a virgin s/o during their first time? like how the boys would react and kinks and comfort for a nervous s/o thnakss!! -👽anon

Hajime Hinata, Nagito Komaeda, Shuichi Saihara, Kokichi Ouma x Nervous!Virgin!S/O First Time Headcanons

Protags and Antags!! EEEEEE WE LUB THEM!!

Enjoy!!

TW// Teasing, Degradation, NSFW, Choking, Hairpulling, Spanking

Shuichi Saihara

♡ Super nervous! 

♡ Knowing him, it would probably be his first time too and he’s spooked as hell so if you are too, he understands. 

♡ He starts by awkwardly kissing you because that’s as far as he’s ever gotten with his partner. After a few minutes, he gets the hang of it. 

♡ Lol I’ve said this about Leon before but Shuichi would probably also give great hugs and would be such a good cuddler. NBVGHJNBGVB Grant George’s casting type is cuddly boys LMFAO

♡ Probably very vanilla but he’s open to most things.

♡ I think Shuichi would probably be a switch with a bottomy lean. He just wants to do what makes you happy. 

♡ Shuichi is kind of basic in terms of positions. He only really cares to do missionary but the way that he does it is so loving and gentle. He holds you underneath him and hides his face in your neck. Like hugging with him on top of you so closely.

♡ After a few times together Shuichi really warms up to you and loses most of his anxieties.

♡ He’s a very hesitant top, but he’s willing. Shuichi doesn’t really know what to do as a top so he usually just asks what you want. He’s a service top!! We love him :3

Kokichi Ouma

♡ TEASING LITTLE BASTARD!!!

♡ Whether it’s your first time or your hundredth time, he’s constantly teasing you, physically or otherwise. Mostly about how nervous you are. 

♡ Now and then he would find some way to comfort you, but honestly, it wouldn’t last long. It’s usually something basic like gently stroking your face or a kiss on the forehead, before going right back to teasing you. 

♡ Unlike Shuichi, Kokichi claims that he has a very high body count (COUGH COUGH BULLSHIT) but you don’t know if you believe him. You didn’t believe him at all until he showed you how experienced he was. 

♡ Kokichi looooves to bite. Like choking and spanking are both fine, but above anything else, biting is his favorite. 

♡ He’s a major verse with no preference, but when he is bottoming… Did someone say brat? Despite him being a switch, Kokichi is always in control. 

♡ Kokichi uses toys on his partner a lot. Most commonly vibrators to tease you with but he’s open to most things.

♡ Also very into bondage. He loved the feeling of having control and knowing that he could do anything to you, with consent of course. 

Nagito Komaeda

♡ Overjoyed! Just crippling shock and happiness.

♡ Nagito underestimated how much you care about him. He always figured that he wasn’t good enough for his partner, being the ultimate lucky student amongst so many ultimates. You asking him made him feel so much more secure in your relationship.

♡ Nagi likes praising you while you degrade him. If you’re too nervous to dirty talk though, he teases you for it. Thinking aloud that an ultimate such as yourself should be more than capable of talking down to trash like him. He’s just teasing though and he certainly wouldn’t try to make you feel bad for it.

♡ In most cases though, he thinks it’s cute how nervous you get and he won’t mind making that clear to you. Imagine being so nervous in the middle of it all and having him whisper to you. 

♡ “Would you look at me, my hope?” Your eyes stayed clenched for only a moment, then shyly you glanced up at him. “How… Precious… Why so shy, my princess?” *Cue pussy backflip*

♡ Loves when his hair is pulled!! Especially when he’s giving oral or when he’s about to cum. It just makes it all the more satisfying to him. 

♡ Cuddles and praises you as aftercare always. No matter how many times you’ve done it.

Hajime Hinata

♡ Surprised but happy when you asked. Hajime had certainly thought about it before but was still shocked that you actually wanted to have sex with him, and even more so that a perfect girl like you had never done it before. 

♡ This puts a lot more pressure on him to make it pleasurable for you. It was your first time so he wanted to make it perfect.

♡ Hajime put tons of effort into making sure you were enjoying yourself. Beforehand, he wanted to talk about what you liked and didn’t. The last thing he wanted was to overstep boundaries, but man was he embarrassed to talk about them too. Still, he muscled through it on your behalf!

♡ Hajime seems like the type that would put your enjoyment before his own but he would be lying if he said he didn’t love receiving oral!! He doesn’t mind giving either but he is a man who loves his dick sucked (I’m twelve sorry.)

♡ His favorite positions are 69 and cowgirl. He’s the type who just adores it when you put all of your weight on him. He thinks it’s the hottest thing ever. Any position is good to him, but being ridden>

♡ Haji doesn’t strike me as the vocal type but when he does make noise, it’s a lot of grunting and gasping. His voice would grow deep and husky until his voice breaks out into a full-on growl.

♡ Always has his hands somewhere on you. Holding your waist, your hands, squeezing your chest, fingering you. He loves all of it, just touching you is perfect to him.

♡ Love youuu~

#danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #fanfic #anime #hajime hinata x reader #hajime hinata #nagito komeada x reader #nagito x reader #dr nagito #danganronpa nagito #sdr2 nagito #kokichi oma x reader #kokichi oma #danganronpa kokichi #drv3 kokichi #kokichi ouma #danganronpa v3 #sdr2 #shuichi saihara x reader #shuichi saihara