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jksoftii · 11 months

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☆♡ JUNGKOOK FIC RECS ♡☆

this is a list of my favorite jungkook fics! most of these contain smut so no minors allowed. please show your love to all these amazing authors :) !!

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

SERIES

Birds by @missbickerbocker a f s strangers to lovers au (Doctor!Jungkook x TravelBlogger!Reader)

Summary - In Jungkook's world stability is key. He knows what exactly is expected of him as head doctor of Seoul's ER Unit. But when an unfortunate collision lands him at your bedside in his own ER unit, his stable world starts to shift. — the angst, the sexual tension, everything about this is just perfect!! doctor jk 😭🙌🏻

Gradation by @shina913 a f s bestfriend to lovers au fwb slow burn (Bestfriend!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On your wedding day your fiancé leaves you at the altar. While reeling from embarrassment and heartbreak, your bestfriend, Jungkook, wants to do everything that he can to help you heal. — i remember coming back to this fic again and again because the entire storyline in itself was so comforting, everyone around oc was so caring and jungkook especially made my heart burst in this one!

Friday nights and takeout by @ahundredtimesover a f s strangers to friends to lovers (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the café, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he — i love love love cute happy endings. there was a lot of scolding eachother but their dynamic itself was just endearing 🤧💖 @ahundredtimesover 's other works are also wonderful! you won't be disappointed checking them out!

Lost Stars by @yoongiofmine a f s strangers to friends to lovers au slow burn (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. — i read this in one sitting because it was so interesting! the twists in this story kept me engaged, i felt like i was in a movie.

Coquet by @shina913 a f s fake dating au strangers to lovers (Escort!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous. — another one by @shina913 because i can't get enough of their writing! the angst, fluff, smut everything was balanced so well. top notch literally. sexy escort jungkook made me get on my knees no joke 🙌🏻🤧

Once You Realize by @kooala a f s friends to lovers idol au (Idol!Jungkook x Idol!Reader)

Summary - Seeing your friend regularly turned out to be difficult because of your colliding schedules, but seeing him again after a couple of months something about the way you thought about Jungkook seemed to have shifted. If only you wouldn’t have started getting close with someone else before you had realized how you felt about your best friend — this indeed is the cutest falling in love story! it's a slowburn but not overwhelming. sjdhjsjs it's just adorable 🥲

ONESHOTS

In which drabble series by @onlyswan a f s established relationship au (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - this is the cutest collection drabbles of boyfriend jungkook!! i recommend all of the installments, the writing is perfect, it's packed with perfectly illustrated details and vivid emotions and you can feel the love radiate from them 🥹 Art is by far my favorite writer on here 🙌🏻 these are a few of my personal favs from the installments -

in which jungkook comes home drunk but bam can’t speak f wc: 2.6k

— no because drunk jk is a menace and we all know it. this was so chaotic and fluffy it made me want to scream!!!

in which jungkook stumbles with his new pair of eyes f wc: 2.8k

— jungkook with glasses. my weakness. but this was so cute and fluffy! it's his little journey figuring out how to handle his glasses with oc!

in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give a f s wc: 8.3k

— this is actually a angsty one but it shows their ups and downs as a couple and gives more insight into their relationship!

The Boy with Galaxies in his Eyes by @oddinary4bts a f s wc: 52.9k strangers to fwb to lovers au (Idol!Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader)

Summary - you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours? — this has a LOT of angst, i won't lie i cried a few times reading this too. the character growth in this was just so phenomenonal. i go back a lot to this and read it again and again just to re-live the story. and ofc the smut is an amazing add on toooo 😭🙌🏻

My babysitters a quarterback by @ohpretty-baby a f wc: 30k enemies to lovers high-school au (Quarterback/Babysitter!Jungkook x Cheerleader!Reader)

Summary - after getting cheated on by the star of the hockey team, park jimin, your life (as expected) goes downhill. what you don’t expect is your parents being skeptical of whether or not you’re a good older sibling for your sister. you also don’t expect them to call jeon jungkook—the person you hate most—to babysit the two of you.

or, alternatively: jungkook babysits you even though the two of you are the same age. — i love this so much oh my goshhhhh this is one of the fics which will make you laugh and cry at the same time. it's fluffy and their dynamic is absolutely adorable. it's sooooo beautifully written!! :))

Spring will come again by @baepsaesbae a f s wc: 10.9k strangers to lovers au (Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!Reader)

Summary - Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever? — everything in this just feels so warm and comforting and jk is so sweet and so precious in here. there's angst but a very cute happy ending. the writing was so well done and so well articulated!! <333

Safety Net by @pradaksj (TWO-SHOT) a f s enemies to friends to lovers roommates au (Boxer!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together. — this is one of my favorite fics ever. it's hilarious and emotional at the same time. both are literally the definition of dumb and dumber 😭 @pradaksj did a lovely job at illustrating their relationship progression. boxer jk just has my entire heart 😵‍💫🙌🏻

Be-Ghoul-Ment by @dokyeomin f wc: 10.1k idiots to lovers university au (Blonde!Jungkook × Reader)

Summary - [beguilement (noun): an entertainment that provokes pleased interest and distracts you from worries and vexations] --- You hate haunted houses more than you’ve ever hated anything. You don’t understand the appeal. But this Halloween, you decide you might hate Kim Taehyung even more. — the cutest fic ever! jk and oc both being a nervous wreck in this was so relatable 😭, and I loved the side friendships with Taehyung and Hobi. It was so sweetly crafted and left me feeling happy inside.

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good-chimes · 10 months

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Proposing:

Grand Unified Scarian Theory

a single, overarching Scarian romance arc across the whole Hermitcraft and Life series as well as a primer for anyone curious about the early seasons.

We start with NEIGHBOR MEET CUTE in early Season 6:

Season 6 begins in a peaceful pirate bay. SCAR, an established hermit just beginning his third season, is happily making pirate caves. Into this tranquil scene comes GRIAN.

Grian, fresh-faced and new to Hermitcraft, picks a sea-themed base location right next to Scar’s pirate caves. He gets himself set up and starts his base. Even someone like Grian can get newcomer nerves, and he spends the first few weeks desperately trying to act like a normal person instead of the horrible gremlin he really is.

(Some hermits are taken in by this. Doc and Xisuma give him pity diamonds, something that—after getting to know Grian—they noticeably never do again.)

The only person exempt from Grian’s just-a-little-birthday-boy act is Mumbo, whom Grian already knows, clearly has a puppy-crush on, and pursues relentlessly.

Grian and Scar don’t interact much at first. Grian sees Scar for the first time while passing by his base. Scar instantly falls in one of his own caves and dies.

Grian panics.

Grian: I DIDN’T DO IT!

Scar, intrigued by his new neighbor, makes some overtures of interest:

1. Scar leaves a fully enchanted trident at Grian’s base as a welcome present. This is a generous gift for the cute neighbor you have a crush on and frankly the most normal thing either of them do in the entire years-long relationship.

Grian goes ‘huh!’ at the trident, never finds out who sent it, and immediately forgets the whole thing.

2. Scar entertains Grian’s traveling-salesman pitch and buys his overpriced armor boxes.

Multiple jokes about the size of Scar’s wallet. Grian clearly pleased by the transaction.

3. Scar makes Grian a complementary in-joke build (Spongebob’s house by Squidward’s house).

This delights Grian immeasurably for five minutes until he turns back to his prank war with Mumbo.

(Poor Mumbo. Clearly immensely fond of Grian but not sure he wants to be in a relationship with a lit stick of dynamite. This is very understandable.)

By this point Scar obviously kind of clocks that Grian is insane about Mumbo. This isn’t much of a leap. The entire SERVER is aware that Grian is horribly in love with Mumbo.

Ah. That’s okay. Scar backs off a bit. He recognizes when he’s not really in with a chance.

Maybe this thing he has with Grian is just going to be a friendship, and that’s okay! Having a crush is fun even if you’re not going to do anything about it. Scar is going to build some shops about it and be normal.

Both of them are going to be very normal.

FLIRTING (First Stages) – mid-Season 6

Both of them immediately forget to be normal.

Grian has started a detective agency and has no mysteries to solve. Scar instantly invents a cookie-based mystery supervillain called the Jangler and leaves Grian a series of tantalizing cookie-based puzzles for enrichment in his enclosure.

Grian has invented a game where you kill people with rockets. Scar volunteers to get murdered. Both of them are delighted.

Scar and Cub’s business empire is incidentally crushing Grian’s startup venture. There is no reason for this to be so flirtatiously charged.

At this point all the hermits move to a new village because of the Minecraft update. Grian starts a who-can-build-the-tallest-house war with Mumbo and Iskall. Scar notices and starts doing the same from the other side of the village.

It quickly gets so wild that Mumbo taps out (Mumbo does not do well with intensity, would rather just not, thankyouverymuch), and it's only Grian, Iskall and Scar.

Scar builds a wild giant plant eating his rocketship, and then a castle in the sky, and an enormous version of himself firing a canon at Grian's house. This is the first time you can really see Grian trying to hold in shrieks when he flies back in to see what Scar has done while he's gone.

Grian’s interest has been caught. He’s gone from barely seeing Scar to checking on him regularly. What’s our good friend Scar up to? What’s Scar done? What is Scar going to do next?

FLIRTING (How To Catch Your Crush’s Interest By Building A Secret Government Facility) – late Season 6

What Scar does next is put on a snazzy military uniform, team up with Doc to steal the time machine Grian invented last week, then, in the most effort someone has EVER gone to to get Grian's attention, spend weeks on end building a fully-functional 'Area 77' military base and containment facility to stop him getting it back.

Turns out this works beyond Scar’s wildest dreams.

Grian INSTANTLY obsessed with breaking into Scar’s base and retrieving his time machine.

Grian persuades Ren into forming a hippie camp with him next to the base and spends weeks entirely fixated on Scar. Meanwhile Scar, who is starting to really understand how to get and keep Grian's attention, builds more and fancier infrastructure to keep Grian out. This is also where Grian really starts looking at Scar's art—the insane cliffs Scar has build around his new hangers—and awkwardly not quite managing words, because it would be very embarrassing to just outright say the word beautiful, and Grian’s a very normal and non-embarrassing person.

In the climax of the season, Grian-the-hippie breaks into General Scar’s base.

Nobody can say that Scar making himself a top brass general and Grian making himself an anti-establishment flower power hippie does not end up with plausibly-deniable not-making-out Grian-provoking-Scar-into-holding-him-against-a-wall.

but.

BUT.

This is Hermitcraft. It’s temporary. Scar and Grian both know it was a bit. A bit they both got super into, sure! But a bit. Not weird at all.

(“Sure, mate, not weird at all,” Mumbo says, after all of this is over. “Then why are you making it SOUND weird Mumbo you’re the WORST”)*

(“Sooo....” Cub says, and Scar says, “I know. I know!”)*

*not canon but you can't tell me it didn't happen off screen

FLIRTING (But What About…) – early Season 7

Okay, so that was weird, but Grian is definitely still in love with Mumbo. The Mumbo pursuit is going great and Mumbo definitely doesn’t look nervous whenever Grian turns up with a new idea. Grian is going to get Mumbo to fall in love with him and they will marry in the spring and have a dozen beautiful children redstone contraptions.

Grian attempts to make it more official with Mumbo. Surely they have been flirting long enough, they are ready for the next stage! This is in no way a reaction to Scar becoming a weird wizard in a way very unsettling to Grian and building the kind of wild organic tangled forest build that Grian is fascinated by but can't even begin to comprehend.

Everything is very under control in Grian's life. He's now official boyfriends with Mumbo. They live together and have a messaging system and everything.

Mumbo announces he’s moving out.

It’s-not-you-it’s-me

You’re… you’re moving out? Grian says, in the smallest possible voice.

We’ll still have the messaging system, Mumbo says, unconvincingly.

FINE, Grian says, I’m moving out TOO.

Mumbo moves out.

Grian deals with this in the healthiest possible way. He invents a mayorship and attempts to give it to Mumbo.

Grian is Mumbo’s self-appointed campaign manager so Mumbo has to be round him ALL THE TIME, it’s for the CAMPAIGN, Mumbo.

Mumbo, a man who doesn’t deal well with pressure or responsibility, is maybe not the ideal choice for mayor, something that has escaped Grian entirely.

Mumbo builds a robot and attempts to palm off all responsibility for decision-making onto it. Grian immediately calls it their son.

Grian puts his moustache all over the server.

NO other hermits support them for mayor (except Scar, from a lost bet, who Grian has continued to have intensely weird flirtations with while all this is happening)

Things reach a fever pitch. Election day arrives. Mumbo doesn’t want this actually but try telling Grian that. The entire MumboGrian edifice that Grian has obsessively and wildly build has reached an unsustainable pitch and finally comes tumbling down around them.

Mumbo votes Scar for mayor.

Grian votes Scar for mayor.

Mumbo disappears for several weeks to do some nice soothing redstone and calm down.

FLIRTING (Civil War) – late Season 7

Everything has calmed down now. Scar is mayor. Mumbo is...somewhere. Grian is going to work on his base normally.

Grian has a new project. He wants to build in the new nether biomes. He builds a huge and echoing and obsessively inverse version of his huge and echoing and obsessively symmetrical mansion base. It's very impressive. It's totally hollow. There's... no one else here.

Grian decides that okay, he is going to bring PEOPLE here.

He invites Mumbo, because he hasn't seen him in weeks. He invites Bdubs, because Grian above all loves genius. And he invites Scar. Because of course. Everything major Grian does now, Scar is an of course.

Bdubs shows up! Generously builds Grian's entire mansion interior. Mumbo shows up. Builds a tiny upside down disco shack.

Scar does not show up.

Scar is being mayor! Scar is a very busy and important man! Scar has spent the last few weeks obsessively replacing every single goddamn mycelium block in the shopping district with beautifully tailored grass and making trees whose flowers are diamonds. He's also got his own megabase going on. For once Scar has so much to do it's even enough for Scar's ambitions, which have never been small.

He does not come when Grian calls.

Grian is Not Happy.

This is the point where Grian starts a steadily more unhinged campaign of leaving Scar invitations. He makes little tailor's dummies of himself and delivers them to Scar's house. He sets up a tea party of three grians in a secret space under Scar's mayoral throne. He hangs himself in effigy on the tip of Scar's megadrill build. Normal behavior.

And then when Scar still doesn't notice, he puts a tiny bit of mycelium back on one of the streets of the shopping district.

This starts… THE MYCELIUM WARS

Scar attempts to contain the growing mycelium patch with warning tape.

Grian spreads more mushroom spores.

Scar brings in his allies to help contain the growing mushroom patches.

Grian digs out an underground rebel HQ, recruits several rebels, and declares himself Motherspore.

Mayor Scar stares into a camera and uses his most velvety baritone to proclaim he will hunt down Grian and the mycelium resistance and bring them to justice.

Grian sets loose mushroom-spreading sheep.

Mayor Scar obsessively searches for his base.

Grian and Impulse build several decoy bases and trap them.

Mayor Scar employs Mumbo to strip-mine every block of the shopping district with redstone tunnel-borers.

Eventually Deputy Mayor Bdubs, having his own thing with rebel Etho, tricks all of the resistance into ender-pearling into jail.

Scar gets to threaten to pour lava on an imprisoned Grian for ten minutes straight and they’re both enjoying this so much.

Grian: Scar! SCAR! Scar Scar Scar no Scar no Scar no listen Scar

Scar: Yes?

Grian: …Let’s take this somewhere else.

They ‘take this’ to Scar’s beautifully-appointed mayoral office. Grian sits on the arm of his chair (I don’t know what to tell you, this is on-screen canon).

Grian: So I know how to end the war.

Grian: We have to play minigames and make personal bets.

Grian: And Scar, Scar, if you lose…

Scar: Yes?

Grian: … you have to help build my base.

Entire room: [stunned silence]

Etho: Is this what it was about the whole time, Grian?

So! That happened. And the thing is, they could both mentally pass off the area 77 general/hippie stuff as Just A Fun Bit That Got Very Intense.

They can't do this with the mayor/motherspore stuff. They are basically making out on Scar’s chair. The resistance have noticed. The mayoral staff have noticed. EVERYONE has noticed.

Scar is into it. Scar is going along with it. Scar knows he’d had a crush for a long time, and he isn't scared of swimming with a huge wave, never mind where it's going to break. Scar has always embraced the rush. With Grian, you never know what’s going to happen next.

Grian has always loved being around Scar because there’s so much going on that you don’t have to think. Grian doesn’t have to think until everything’s calmed down. It's not until now that he stops and realizes… could this be… something.

(Maybe it already is.)

And then, by whatever eldritch mechanic you personally favor:

3rd life begins.

HEAD-OVER-HEELS – Third Life

In the tiny claustrophobic stripped-bare world of Third Life, Grian makes a choice. Grian thinks, for once very, very clearly: what if it wasn't a bit? What if it was real. What if Grian took every explosive piece of who he was and handed it over to someone he's—okay, he'll admit it—someone he's been obsessed with for a long time. What if that heady sparkle he's been seeing in the corner of his vision is true. What happens if you grab it with both hands?

Scar—surprised, bemused, amazed but wrong-footed—almost doesn't know what to DO with this.

Scar is so used to Grian layering all his obsession behind a thick layer of irony and drama and second-guessing and schemes. ‘Sure we can make out but only if I'm trailing mushroom spores and you're wearing that sash.’ ‘I'm only here because Mumbo's not around.’ ‘It’s not a thing.’ ‘It's not real.’

But it is real.

And, for once, Scar hears a tiny alarm go off in his brain. Scar knows Grian better than anyone else does, by now, and even he doesn't know where this ends. Grian is a force of nature and Scar has never been his unfiltered target. But Grian's throwing himself into this, throwing himself at Scar. And Scar always says 'yes.' 'Yes, and.' 'Yes, let's'. Scar never wants less of Grian. Scar has always taken what he can get.

But with that warning bell, Scar does try to keep that slight layer of dramatic distance, even in this new world where you can die and not come back, even if they don't know if they'll get out of this alive. Scar doesn't fully buy into Grian's second-in-command-devotion, he forces a space for Grian to still be the Grian he knows, some kind of safety vent (‘here's a bee on a lead’). And it could be a lot of reasons, but part of it is…Grian's head-over-heels, for once, and Scar has the unfamiliar feeling of needing to be the one to look where they're going.

Because where they're going is: the last two, all their friends dead, not knowing if there's any way to survive but knowing their friends haven't come back, and at that point Scar takes off the very last of his brakes and the very last of his reservations and says:

For everything you've done for me you can kill me.

(I want this. I want it to be you.)

This breaks Grian absolutely and completely.

And not broken in the fun way! Grian is too far in. Grian let go of Mumbo, who was safe because Mumbo never let it get too far, and he took a risk on Scar, and now Grian is discovering that he didn’t even know what risk meant. Grian is in emotional pain he never suspected existed. Grian has let himself put all his gambling chips on someone who wasn't SAFE and he has lost.

Grian has LOST SCAR and he has LOST HIMSELF and he has FOUND OUT HE CAN BE HURT and he is never going to be the fucking same again.

Scar is in the pond with Grian’s sword at his unresisting neck. And Scar is going to die, and Scar (damn him damn him) has turned it into: he's going to die for Grian. Now Grian is hurting, he's complicit, it turns out grief is an inevitable part of love and beauty, this is all it's taken for Grian's worldview to fall apart in pieces he can't pick up, and Grian has no defenses against pain so there's obviously no way to cope except to beat Scar to death in a cactus ring and jump off a cliff.

AFTERMATH – Season 8

They wake up in Hermitcraft.

They wake up in Hermitcraft! Scar is delighted to find out they just reincarnate, after all that!

Sure, they've all got some lingering trauma but Scar has never let that stop him from doing anything. Scar thought that whole thing went well! He just about dares to think...romantic...? Maybe...?

Grian is Normal to him.

Grian is so fucking normal. it's like. s6 normal.

Scar is. kind of. confused.

Grian is NOT acting like someone he had a romantic death match with.

(Grian is falling apart, but if there's one thing Grian has proved in his building it’s that he’s SO. fucking. good. at facades.)

(Don't go round the back.)

Neither of them are ready for the death game to repeat.

DIVORCE (Traumatic) – Last Life, Season 8

Second death game. Grian deals with his trauma super well by isolating Scar, stealing all his friends, tricking a life out of him, dropping his horse in lava, forcing him into an extortion death loop, then abandoning him and—just as a bonus—murdering Mumbo as well.

This time it’s Scar who comes back falling apart.

A theory that seems plausible: Scar’s old friend Cub picks him up, puts him back together, gets him on his feet. What we do know is that Cub moves in next to Boatem, where Scar is still living with Grian, and incidentally builds an enormous dripstone megabiome that is coincidentally very hostile and might murder you upon landing if you're someone who flies a lot, or happens to be a bird.

There’s a hole with an endless dark void between Scar and Grian’s Boatem bases. They built it together. It’s around this time they both keep repeatedly falling in it.

DIVORCE (But When It Was Good It Was So Good) – Season 8, Double Life

Then the moon gets big. Gets close. Gravity breaks down and that should be the end, should be a way out of this terrible spiral they're in, surely they're better without each other—

Grian turns up at Scar's base and says: Scar. Build us an escape pod.

—and Scar does.

They go out together. Both of them can feel the pull back into each other’s orbit but they’ll die if they acknowledge it. At the end of it all, the void, the protective suits, the unbearable gravity of falling into space together, of holding each other until another uncertain end. They're nowhere but they're in it together.

Is this a good time for another death game? Of course. How much worse can it get.

Double Life, and this time Scar keeps his distance. My soulmate is this allay! My soulmate is my cat! I don’t need a soulmate. Oh—it’s Grian? This whole time? Hahaha. How funny.

Grian: Soo… do you want to base together?

Scar: Do we have to?

Grian: It…might be nice…?

Scar is wary.

He has been burned.

But the pull is still there. The pull is always there. You can’t forget Grian, but you can blunt the edge of him on your skin. Scar is here to take care of these cat-pandas. Grian can do what he likes.

Cheated of Scar’s full attention, Grian tries to tempt BigB into a pale imitation of the Scarian folie à deux (BigB is a genuinely nice man who does not deserve this).

The rest of the server turn red, one by one. Grian and Scar are the last greens. BigB is audibly nervous when Grian proposes a red-green alliance, even though BigB is the red, he has the power. But Grian can’t escape the rest of the server, and the red hunt begins.

Grian and Scar, hunted—trapped at the top of flaming towers, jumping from heights, chased down like foxes at bay, crammed into boltholes with their hands over each other’s mouths, Grian shrieks and laughs and falls back on Scar and Scar catches him and they’re both as alive and elated as they’ve ever been. Scar dies once to Ren and BigB’s zombies and Grian murders both BigB and Ren in revenge (BigB was right to be nervous). Grian has another unhinged murder plan underway when he dies for the last time.

This whole time, Grian was hit in the face by remembering that when it's good, it's so good.

Scar isn’t surprised. Scar has known that forever.

Back in Hermitcraft, its not magically fixed. They’re not innocent any more. But every time Grian looks at Scar he remembers: when it’s good, it’s so good.

And Scar never forgot.

DIVORCE (We’re In Love And We’re Not Done Yet) – Season 9, Limited Life

By now we're into Season 9. They’re still alive. They always live, they always start again, and the other one is just there. Being, infuriatingly and magnetically, them.

Grian is thoroughly annoyed by Scar’s new allegiance to King Ren, but he keeps coming back to Scarland anyway. Scar, I made you an obstacle course. Scar, stand here and get squashed by this anvil. Scar if you don’t do something I’m going to start a resistance.

Grian pretends King Ren doesn’t exist and he has more important things to do, and pretends this so hard that he incidentally invents a mad science robot pulls them all through into the Empires dimension.

Scar, assuming Grian is doing his own thing, shacks up with Jimmy.

It takes Grian three weeks to notice and be shriekingly outraged.

Scar we’re doing a project. Scar you can’t spend all your time with Jimmy! Join my cult. Get in my shrinking machine. I made you an enchanted netherite bow. I need your allegiance. (Another real quote).

Scar teases Grian for weeks then instantly abandons Jimmy when the choice comes down to him or Grian.

Fourth death game—they’re used to this, now. Nothing too intense. Nothing too weird. Grian can’t help murdering Scar.

At this point, Scar is starting to read it as: I love you.

And that’s how we get to the current Scarian dynamic we know and love of you're the worst and I'm the worst and we've divorced a few time but we still like each other so fucking much.

It's been years. They've killed each other every possible way. These two characters are in love and they're not done yet.

#scarian #grian #goodtimeswithscar #hermitshipping #yes canon IS a grand romantic arc #to be super clear: i don't think any of this was cc intention #but we can have a little narrative framing fun #as a treat #i think nearly all of this is true to canon except some timing vagueness and the dialogue in parentheses #thank you to the hivemind for theory help #long post #glossywrites

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balancethescales · 10 months

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thinking about the specific moments where the berzatto family falls in love with sydney (because of course they do, everyone does).

for richie, it takes the end of the beef and right up till the opening of the bear to happen. he is full of contempt and grief when he meets her and all he knows is that when he looks at her face he is afraid. he doesn’t like that feeling. richie is not a man who finds himself fearful a lot, but she is everything he is not and nothing that he is and he hates himself for it. if she is what it means to be passionate, then what is he? is he nothing but an empty shell of mikey, stuck on earth to shake his fist at passing clouds, because how dare they move and continue on like mikey was nothing to them, as if he wasn’t the very point that the earth revolved around? everyone is leaving him behind, and she is proudly leading the pack. it’s not right. but then— he gets it. he talks to garrett and jess and chef terry and he sees sydney in every corner of that restaurant. the fear slowly is replaced with respect as the week goes on and he realizes that just because she’s good doesn’t mean she’s out to get him. that’s the berzatto upbringing in him doing the talking, but it doesn’t have to, because shes a berzatto now, maybe not officially (not yet, but mark his words, she will be) but she is, and that’s not how she does things. so, he lets her lead them into the future to something good and different and better.

for sugar, it’s instant. she was born to a mother who is triggered by her very existence, and it has hurt her all her life. she is full of love and the one person she wants to give it to the most doesn’t want any part of it. she was born to give but is surrounded by those who are afraid to even take it, to reach out their hand and meet her in the middle. and if they cant take then they themselves have nothing to give, so she gets used to being the one who has to force feed her love down their throats, because if no one does, if no one shows them that they are worthy of good things, then they will crumble (“if i just talked to him more—” “no, nat—” “if i had just—” “it’s not your fault, honey. it’s never been.”). but when she meets sydney, it’s like looking into a mirror. she sees her bright eyes and soft smiles and careful but strong hands and instantly recognizes her for what she is: a giver. and sugars heart swells with even more love than she thought possible, because finally, she’s not alone— there is someone else there to slowly, albeit subconsciously, take care of her crumbling family, to show them that despite what their mother may have taught them, its okay to not be okay (she tries her best not to cry when syd asks her if shes okay, but she does. and syd doesnt grab her face or yell at her or call her stupid. she makes her a meal. and sugar cries some more).

for cicero, the love isn’t instant, and it’s not even entirely love. she is strong and she is assertive, but that also makes her naive and a very expensive risk. she makes him curious for what’s to come, intrigued by the way she doesn’t back down from carmy whose voice so often mimics the berzattos that came before him (“you’re better than this, kid.” “i don’t know what i am.” “whatever it is, it’s not this.”). she's self assured and knows her place in the establishment and is unafraid to let people know it. it’s a refreshing change of pace from mikey, who often resorted to intimidation to get his way, or carmy, who’s anxiety envelopes him and distracts him from what’s right there in front of him. but she is not them. she is focused and on track and is willing to put in the work to get what she wants. he doesn’t visit the bear often, only drops by once in a while to deliver bad news or to fulfill a favour or to just enjoy some good food, but when he does, she is always there, dedicated to ensuring that carmy and michaels, and now, her dream stays alive. she is good for his family, and he trusts her to keep the berzatto spirit alive.

for michelle, it’s quite simple. she always looked out for carmy, their little bear, so when she meets her it’s a family thanksgiving party at the bear and syd stumbles out of the kitchen, obviously frazzled and a little sweaty (“carmy, im not ready, i didn’t even change yet and the turk—” “don’t worry, tina will take care of it, you look great, they’ll love you, they just really wanted to meet you—”), but she’s smiling. she’s a little awkward when she introduces herself, and michelle finds herself endeared by her nervous ramble (“it’s, uh, really nice to meet you guys. sorry, i didn’t know that i was going to be pulled out of the kitchen so soon. uh, im sydney. yeah, i guess carmy already told you guys, huh? um. im sorry, how are you related to the family again? i mean, i dont want to offend but it’s just. uh. well, you guys are just very... normal?”) and she’ll laugh and look at stanley and the two of them will think to themselves, good job carmy, she’s a good one, before telling syd something dumb and nonsensical about a genetic mutation and richie interrupts to tell michelle it’s not a genetic mutation it’s called being boring and syd will laugh and michelle will too, truly happy that their little bear found someone normal, a breath of fresh air within the smoke of their family.

for donna, it’s weird. it’s tense. they don’t meet for a long time. they don’t meet at the bear when it first opens and not at the bear even when it has found it’s footing, but by chance. they are somewhere mundane (a grocery store, a park, or maybe just the street) and there is no other family member around when syd meets the berzatto matriarch. she only knows what donna looks like from photos at sugars house because carmys apartment is devoid of any actual sentiment (although that has begun to change since she made him get an actual dresser and he dedicated one of the drawers to her stuff). she calls out to her by her name, and donna turns around startled. she doesn’t recognize syd, of course, who introduces herself and informs her of who she is to the family. when donna smiles it’s not a real one, and syd knows this, but it doesn’t deter her. she tells donna that her kids love her (“even after everything, nat?” “she’s our mother. its all that we can do.”) and that her kids are great (“carmy, you are not broken.” “im a little broken.” “no, listen to me, the fact that you are still here, means something. its something.”) and that there will always be a table for her at the bear (“chef, someones calling in for a reso for 1 but we’re all full up… except for—“ “yo, dont finish that sentence. table 7 for ms. berzatto is an indefinite booking. is that understood?” “yes, chef”). donnas smile fades and her chest fills with anger but just as she’s about to explode in typical berzatto fashion syd interrupts her. she has faced the bear many a time before and has handled herself with grace and dignity everytime, so this is no different. she smiles brightly and thanks donna for listening to her and hopes she considers coming in, because she’d really like to cook for her. she looks like she needs a good meal. she deserves one. she turns and walks away. donnas stomach growls. that night, table 7 is occupied for the first time since the bear opened its doors.

and carmy? well, there isn’t an exact moment. its a culmination of awkward partnership (“i don’t want to be shitty.” “okay, then dont be.”) and flawless teamwork (“the menu needs—” “already on it, chef.”) and nights unwinding at the bar down the street (“of course you drink an old fashioned.” “what’s that supposed to mean?” “nothing, it’s just very… tortured-chef-from-the-slums-of-chicago of you”) and spontaneous phone calls just to hear the others voice (“why are you whispering?” “i… don’t know. my dads home. its a habit.” “you’re 27.” “and you’re white, you wouldn’t get it.”) till they’re just inseparable (“cousin, wheres carmy?” “with syd, duh.” “why'd i even ask?”). and then, sydney and carmen become something else. something tender and sweet and terrifying and beautiful all mixed together into… something. there’s no word for what they have. but it feels so right; to the guests who taste their food and recognize that the hands who put it together are full of love and care; to the staff at the bear who see the unspoken communication, the lingering touches, and their soft eyes that seem to always be on the other; to the berzatto family who notice that carmy looks a little brighter, and shakes a little less. yes, its love, but its so much more. it’s syd and carmy. it always has been, and always will be.

(“can i ask you something? something corny and lame and gross?” “always.” “when did you, like, know?” “know what?” “like, when did you know that you loved me? like, not as a chef or a friend, but as... y'know.” “that’s very middle school of you to ask.” “shut up, i did warn you.” “…” “so?” “its, uh, i don’t, i don’t know.” “well, that’s rude.” “no, i mean, i can’t say its one moment because... it was all of them. together. like, one moment you’re staging and then everything happened and, and, keeps happening but the next thing i knew you were there and you always were there and i just knew that i never wanted you to not be there.” “that’s…. really, really, disgusting, and frankly, a little unprofessional.” “oh, fuck off.” “no, like, i knew you were obsessed with me, but wow, that is a whole new other level.” “fuck you, get off of me, don’t touch me.” “no no no, please—” “i let you into my family—” “let me?” “into my restaurant—” “i think you mean OUR restaurant—” “only for you to humiliate me in my own bed? how dare you.” “…are you sulking?” “…” “…carmy?” “syd?” “me too.” “…heard, chef. now come back here.”)

(and it’s unspoken, but everyone knows that michael would’ve loved her too. i mean, she’s sydney fucking adamu, she conquered the bear. how could anyone not love her?)

#this is just a love letter to sydney adamu #because she is everything right with the world #she’s got that dawg (re: bear) in her #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #sydney adamu #ayo edibiri #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white #richie jerimovich #natalie berzatto #cicero the bear #cousin michelle the bear #donna berzatto #michael berzatto #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney

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formula-nyoom · 11 days

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Rookie Reflections | LS2

Platonic! Logan Sargent x Rookie!Reader

Summary: Being the only new addition to the grid, it may seem intimidating to try and introduce yourself to the other drivers. Logan remembers exactly what it's like to be the new rookie and doesn't want a repeat of what happened to him to happen to anyone else.

A/N: Pronouns weren’t specified so I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible. I still haven’t decided if I want to write in 2nd or 3rd person, it really depends on the fic/request. Previous reader inserts I have written have been done in 2nd person so I defaulted to that with this fic, but do let me know which one you prefer. Logan, my favorite driver, I’m glad my first request is for him. Also I have no hate towards Daniel, it just made a lot more sense to me for the reader to take his seat.

Silly season didn’t come with a lot of shake ups like people expected it to. The only team to switch up their driver line up for the upcoming season was RB, with Daniel being replaced by the newest Formula 2 champion after not delivering the results Red Bull had wanted from him.

You had met Yuki for the first time during the car launch before pre-season testing, but with all the cameras, interviews, and excitement surrounding the new car launch, you were unable to find the time to properly get to know each other. You had hoped to get a chance to maybe sit down with Yuki and get to know your new teammate, but now in Bahrain with all the drivers in one place it seemed that all of them had already split off into their pre-established friend groups that had been built up over years of racing alongside each other, Yuki included.

That’s the thing with being the only new driver for the season: All the other drivers already knew each other well enough that you felt too intimidated to approach any of them. Going to Formula 2 where you knew almost all the drivers to Formula 1 where you knew no one, it was like being the new kid at school. And that seemed even more evident during the pre-season photoshoot.

Yuki still had some last bits of data to go over with his engineer so you arrived at the photoshoot without your teammate. While you did arrive early, most of the drivers were already there, either talking with each other or members of their team. A few gave you curious glances, maybe an awkward smile or two, but none felt the need to approach. Not wanting to risk bothering anyone, you decided to find a spot secluded from the various groups of people while you waited for either Yuki to show up or for the photoshoot to start. Maybe when the photographer started to position people for the photos, you could possibly strike up a conversation with whoever was placed near you. But for now, you felt content standing off to the side where no one would really approach you. Or so you thought.

Logan had forgotten something in the Williams garage, making him arrive at the photoshoot after Alex. And while he could have walked over to his teammate, who was currently chatting with George, he noticed you standing off to the side. You were away from everyone to where you wouldn’t get in the way as you scrolled through your phone.

Logan knows that move. He did it many times during his rookie season because of how out of place he felt. But he also wasn’t the only rookie during his season, unlike you who was the only new person to the grid. He can probably guess how nervous or out of place you may seem. Logan knows that feeling. He hates that feeling and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Maybe that’s why he had decided to approach you. Or maybe it was because he didn’t have anyone else to talk to since Alex was busy talking to George, and Oscar was busy talking to Lando. Either way, he thought it was a good idea to introduce himself.

“Hey,” Logan said, getting your attention. “You’re the new RB driver, right?”

Logan already knew the answer to that question, but he thought that was a better question to ask than pointing out the fact that you’re the new rookie.

“Yea, I am.” You said. Guess you were wrong about people not approaching you as you looked at the man standing before you.

“I’m Logan.” He said, holding out his hand for you to shake. You already knew his name before he introduced himself. Hell, you knew all drivers names on the grid but that was another intimidating reason why you hadn’t tried to approach anyone.

“I’m (Y/N).” You said, shaking Logan’s hand.

“So, are you excited for the upcoming season?” Logan asked.

“Yea. The car seems to be a good contender with the testing we’ve done so far. Hopefully I’ll be able to score some points by the end of the season.”

“What makes you think you won’t get points at the beginning?” Logan asked.

“Well I am the rookie this season. I’m still getting used to the car, it’s a huge difference from the F2 car I was driving last year. Plus everyone else has been racing longer than I have. It's gonna take me a while to catch up.” You explained.

“Oh come on, don’t doubt yourself this early. Trust me, it doesn’t help.” Logan said. You shrugged.

“I guess you’re right. I mean, I’m gonna try my best no matter what, but the highest I can see myself getting for the first race is P15.” You told him.

“That’s a good start. “ Logan said. He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The two of you ended up talking about what you both did over the winter break and your expectations for the season until the photographer called for the photoshoot to start. You hadn’t even realized Yuki had arrived until the photographer positioned you two next to each other.

“I saw you and Logan talking earlier. I hope it was a good conversation.” He whispered as you waited for the photographer to take a picture.

“He was just introducing himself. We talked about our expectations for the season.” You told him. Yuki smiled a bit.

“Logan’s always been nice. I’m glad you’re getting to know some of the other drivers.”

~~~

“Come on Yuki, pick up!” You mumbled as the call went to voicemail again. After pre-season testing had wrapped up, you had finally managed to get to know Yuki by going out to get dinner together with the rest of the team. He had promised that the two of you would walk together through the paddock on the first day of the season, but after arriving at the entrance you saw no sign of your teammate. And the fact that he wasn’t answering his phone didn’t help either. But looking around towards all the cars pulling in towards the entrance, you did however see Logan arriving.

“Logan!” You quickly walked over to him as he got closer to the entrance.

“Hey. What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be with your team?” He asked, noticing the lack of anyone from RB with you.

“Well me and Yuki were supposed to walk in together, but I can’t find him anywhere and he’s not answering my calls.” You said. You looked past the turnstiles at the entrance to the paddock. “I don’t really want to walk in by myself.”

“Do you want me to walk in with you?” Logan asked. You looked back at him.

“If it’s not too much to ask.” You said. Logan just shook his head and smiled.

“It’s no bother.” He said. He gently ushered you towards the entrance and the two of you walked through. It was an understatement to say that you were nervous to greet the cheering fans that stood by the barriers with things to sign. But knowing that Logan was right next you signing things as well and taking pictures with fans made you less nervous. You even got to take some pictures with him and fans as well.

“If I wore all these friendship bracelets in the car, I think I would add an extra pound.” You joked as the two of you walked past the various team garages.

“Soon you’re gonna end up having a full storage closet at your house just full of stuff that fans have given you.” Logan said. You smiled at that idea.

“Hopefully I won’t develop carpal tunnel from all the stuff I’m gonna have to sign over the year.” Good thing being a Formula 1 driver consists more of driving cars than signing things.”

“You say that now, but just wait until the RB merchandise team sits you down in a room filled with driver cards you have to sign. Your wrist is going to be so sore afterwards.” Logan said. You let out a chuckle.

“(Y/N)!” You turned to see Yuki, coming from the RB hospitality, running over to the two of you. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry. They put me in the press conference at the last minute. I had to come early.” Yuki explained.

“It’s ok Yuki. Logan walked in with me.” You said. You turned back to Logan. “Thank you, by the way. I should probably go see my team.”

“Like I said, it was no bother. I’d be happy to walk the paddock with you anytime.” He said. “I’ll see you two on the track.”

He waved goodbye and then headed to the William’s garage as you headed with Yuki back to the RB hospitality to get ready for the upcoming practice sessions.

~~~

“Ok (Y/N). We’ve been knocked out of Q1. You are P17.” Your race engineer said through the radio as the qualifying session ended and you slowed your car down for a cool down lap.

“Not the result I had hoped for, but it’s something I can improve upon. Did Yuki make it to Q2?” You asked, making your way into the pit lane.

“Yes, Yuki did make it into Q2.” Your engineer said.

“That’s good. Hope he can make it into Q3.” You pulled into your designated pitlane and flipped up your visor to let some air into your helmet as the pit crew pulled your car into the garage.

After changing out of your race suit and fireproofs, you put on a pair of headphones and joined the crew in watching Q2. You were happy to see that Logan made it into Q2 as well, and was secretly hoping he would make it into Q3 along with Yuki. Both of them did good laps during Q2 but Yuki unfortunately was only able to place P11. Logan barely managed to get by into Q3, but couldn’t place any higher and ended up in front of your teammate, placing P10 for tomorrow’s race. After congratulating Yuki on his placement, you left the RB garage to go look for Logan to do the same thing. You didn’t have to look far, as the American driver was exiting the William’s garage as you approached.

“Hey, nice driving today!” You said, giving Logan’s shoulder a congratulatory pat.

“Thanks. I’m shocked I was able to make it into Q3. I thought I was going to get knocked out in Q2, I didn’t expect Lance to get his lap time deleted.” Logan said. “Where’d you place?”

“P17. I wasn’t able to gain enough speed on my last lap to get myself to a higher placement.” You said. “But that’s ok. I just need to overtake the 7 cars in front of me to get to P10 and get into the points. How hard can that be?”

You laughed, your last sentence meaning to be a joke. Logan let out a small chuckle, but he was taking what you said seriously.

“I think you can do it. But only do it after I’ve overtaken a couple cars myself. I’d also like to get some points during the race.” He said.

“Deal!”

~~~

It was officially race day and your nerves seemed to be bouncing as fast as the cars that would be on track soon. You had felt confident throughout the week, being on the track and going over data with the team. But with the race starting in a couple hours, the fact that you were about to debut in your first Formula One race was starting to become very real.

“You squeeze that water bottle any tighter, it’s gonna explode.” You were brought out of your spiraling thoughts by Logan as he approached you from the side. Looking down, you did see that the water bottle you were holding was almost ready to burst from the steel grip you had on it.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking about the race today.” You said, loosening your grip on the bottle.

In a similar scenario to pre-season testing, the two of you were waiting to start the drivers parade.

“It’s ok to be nervous about your first race. Every driver is.” He said.

“What if I crash the car?” You asked. Logan shook his head.

“You won’t.”

“What if I can’t overtake any cars and finish last?”

“You won’t finish last.”

“What if-”

“Hey.” Logan placed his hands on your shoulders and made you look at him. “You’re going to be fine. You drove well during testing and practice. You can overtake the cars in front of you. And even if you finish last, so what? It’s your first race. You’re going to make mistakes and that’s ok.” Logan said. His hands on your shoulder and the speech he just gave you seemed to steel your nervous a bit as you took in what he said.

“Just try to have fun. Can you promise me that?” Logan asked. He held up his pinkie and you almost laughed at the childlike implications. But the serious look on Logan’s face stopped you. You linked your pinkie with his and nodded.

“I promise.”

The two of you ended up staying next to each other during the drivers parade, waving to fans as the truck drove by. Interviews were also happening during the parade, and with you being the new rookie, you had to be interviewed.

“So (Y/N), you're about to make your Formula 1 debut in your first Formula 1 race. How are you feeling?” The interviewer asked.

“I’m both very nervous and very excited. I’m starting at the back of the grid, but I’m gonna try to do my best.” You said.

“I know, with being the newest addition to the grid, you may feel like you stand out. Besides your teammate Yuki, have there been any other drivers that you’ve gotten to know during pre-season testing or this weekend?”.

“Logan actually introduced himself to me during pre-season testing and we’ve gotten to know each other a bit.” You told the interviewer. “It feels a bit intimidating being surrounded by these great drivers that I’ve always hoped to have a chance to drive alongside, so I’m really grateful to Logan for being someone on the grid that I can talk to and get to know, besides Yuki of course.”

“Have you guys talked about anything in particular? Any expectations for your first race?”

“Logan actually gave me a really good pep talk before the drivers parade. It really helped calm my nerves down a bit. I’m gonna take Logan’s advice and try to have fun.” You said with a smile. The interviewer thanked you for your time and moved on to interview a different driver as you made your way back over to Logan. After waving to a bunch of fans, the parade concluded and you and the rest of the drivers got off the truck.

“What are you going to do during this race?” Logan asked you before the two of you departed to get ready for the race.

“Have fun!” You said.

“That’s right.” He gave your shoulder a reassuring pat and left for the William’s garage while you headed back to RB, your nerves seemingly having lessened.

Logan’s pep talk seemed to be exactly what you needed. You ended up finishing the race in P11, just out of the points but only two spots behind Yuki.

“(Y/N) that was a fantastic first race! Well done!” Your engineer's voice came through the radio as you waved while driving around the track.

“Oh my god! Thank you so much! That was so much fun! I couldn’t have done it without you or the team!” You said enthusiastically as you pulled into parc ferme. You sat in the car for a couple seconds, taking in the feeling of making it through your first Formula One race. Then, you took the wheel out and stepped out of the car.

Some of the pit crew workers gave you pats on the back or the shoulder, congratulating you on making it through your first race. As your eyes scanned the pit lane, looking for your team, they landed on the familiar America-decorated helmet of Logan.

“Logan!” You called as you jogged over to him. His eyes lit up at your approach and met you halfway.

“Nice one champ! P11 on debut!” He said, raising his hand for a high five before bringing you in for a brief congratulatory hug.

“I was so close to getting into points but I couldn’t catch up. You drove amazingly though! Congrats on P5!” You told him.

“Hey, don’t put yourself down for being “just” out of the points. Next race, you and I are going to be in the top 10.” He said. “Did you have fun?”

“Yea!” You exclaimed. Both your smiles seemed to grow.

“I told you! Come on, let’s go get weighed and you can tell me everything about the race.” Logan slung his arm over your shoulder as he led you over to the weigh stations.

The two of you spent the rest of the night recounting each of your guys' events of the race, every overtake and every mistake either of you made. Eventually exhaustion started to hit both of you and the two of you decided to head back to your hotel rooms.

“Thank you.” You said to Logan as you stood infront of your room after Logan offered to walk you back.

“For what?” He asked.

“For introducing yourself to me during pre-season testing. I honestly didn’t think I would be able to get to know anyone on the grid this season. All the other drivers seem to know each other really well or are just really intimidating.” You said, fidgeting with your fingers for a bit before looking back up at him “But I’m really glad to say that you're the first friend I’ve made on the grid.”

Logan’s smile seemed to lower and you grew concerned. But he noticed this and quickly change his expression to reassurance.

“I know how hard it is to make friends in this sport and I also know how isolating it can be. I didn’t want what happened in my rookie season to happen to you.” He told you. “I’m glad that you’re my friend too.”

You smiled, touched by what he said and happy that he considered you a friend as well. You held up your pinkie towards him.

“Promise that we’ll both be in the points next race?”

He linked your pinkie with his and matched your smile.

“I promise.”

#formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #logan sargent x reader #platonic grid x reader

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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Adopt a Jock Part One / Part Two / Part Three PART FOUR YOU ARE HERE Part five

As always I own my entire soul to @chalkysgarbagefire

Steve didn't show up to lunch that Monday.

This was a problem, because Gareth and Eddie had carefully prepared the entirety of Hellfire to help make Steve play a D&D one-shot.

(Well, mostly Eddie--and he'd left out the parts about how the entire goal was to acclimate Harrington to hugs and high fives.

Gareth assumed that was a more careful conversation they'd all have later, outside of school grounds.)

"Eds, if you jiggle your legs any harder the table is going to take flight." Gareth complained, scooting away before he got jabbed in the gut.

"Where is he!?" Eddie muttered, glancing at his watch for what had to be the twenty-fifth time. “Are we sure he showed up to class this morning?"

Stewart, the only person to share a class with Harrington, gave their leader an exasperated look. "Yes, I’m sure."

He flicked his spoon, pointing it towards Eddie. "And yes he looked fine, yes, everything seemed normal, no I don't know why he's not here and no, no one fucking abducted him, or threatened him, or any of the other crazy excuses you keep coming up with!”

Eddie’s frown deepened as Gareth and Grant traded concerned glances.

"Maybe he just didn't want to sit with us today." Jeff remarked, approaching the topic with the same care a technician had when approaching a live bomb.

Gareth thought it was a smart move, considering Eddie looked like he was about to rocket into the ceiling.

"He's sat with us everyday, why would he change now?" Eddie argued.

"Maybe there's a basketball thing happening. Or he's saying hi to his jock buddies." Gareth tried, using the same cautious tone Jeff had.

"We’re his friends!" Eddie snapped, looking two seconds away from losing his shit entirely.

Almost unconsciously, Gareth and Jeff both raised a hand almost to try and help calm him.

Like he was a wild horse and they were the preteen girls in the movies determined to establish a bond before he killed their grandpa or some shit.

This was what happened when one deviated from a predetermined Munson-made plan. Not that Steve had known that of course, but then, he wasn’t exactly catching the fallout, was he?

‘I am making Harrington buy lunch after this.’ Gareth thought, as Eddie returned to bouncing both his legs almost frantically. ‘From someplace expensive.’

"Maybe Hargrove ate him." Grant suggested, as if the very thought of Billy Hargrove wouldn’t set Eddie off on a rampage.

"I could see it." Stewart agreed. "Dude has cannibal vibes."

"Not. Helping." Jeff hissed, his palm still in the air and hovering vaguely over Eddie’s shoulder.

Sure enough, Eddie’s entire body tensed at the mere mention of Hawkin High’s new King. "That’s it. We’re going to find him.”

“Have fun.” Tiff said, waving him off.

Eddie glared. “We’re all going.” He practically spat.

With a put upon sigh, Tiff set her food down. "You really want to spend the rest of our lunch period stalking around the hallways looking for Harrington?"

Eddie gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white.

"Yes Tiff, I do." He said, a manic gleam in his eyes.

He shoved up from the table, striking the kind of pose he often used during his rants. “This is a break in a pattern of behavior. A veer from an established path! This is the very first sign in every horror movie that something is wrong!”

He went to put his foot up on the edge of the table, like a pirate captain looking to the seas ahead, but instead missed it entirely and fell forward.

Eddie flailed for a moment, before managing to catch himself on the edge of the table. Instantly he began acting like he’d intended to fall like that from the start.

“I refuse to let any of us behave like idiotic, stupid, horror movie characters.” He finished dramatically, hair hanging in his face.

“You’ve been watching that Sherlock Holmes show again, haven’t you?.” Jeff asked him flatly.

“Among other things.” Gareth muttered, because as usual, he was the one who’d been watching said shows and movies with Eddie.

Not that it bothered him any, just that it meant he got to watch his best friend adopt new behaviors in real time.

Eddie flew back up, flinging his hair out of his face with a dramatic toss of his head.

“Come on my Watson’s! Let’s go find Harrington. I have a one-shot to pitch dammit!” Eddie outright yelled, flinging his arm skyward once again.

He got several startled glances in the cafeteria for it, but as used to Eddie as they all were, no one bothered to say anything to him.

“Why the fuck would we all be Watson?” Stewart muttered as he stood.

“I agree. Obviously, I’d be Watson.” Gareth said, also getting to his feet. “You’d be Mrs. Hudson.”

“Oh fuck you, I would at least be the other crazy smart dude.”

“Mycroft or Moriarty?”

“Mycroft.” Grant and Jeff chanted as one, the both of them putting their food away.

“Not one of you is any Sherlock Holmes character. Except maybe the dog.” Tiff cut in with an eye roll as she finally gave in and stood herself. "Now come on, let's go take Eddie for a walk."

Said metalhead flipped her the bird, but otherwise didn't protest.

(Probably because this wasn't the first time they'd had to do laps with Eddie.)

xXx

"Maybe he just went home." Gareth said reasonably some fifteen or so minutes later.

They'd made their way through the school, Eddie obnoxiously bursting through all the bathroom doors to loudly (and embarrassingly) yell for Steve.

They hadn't seen hide nor perfectly shaped hair of their wayward jock, and none of them were looking forward to trapezing around the outside of the school to hunt for him.

Thankfully, they didn't have to.

"Wait.” Tiffany asked, as they passed by the small little hallway leading to the art and photography rooms. “Is that Steve?"

Immediately all heads turned towards the direction she had pointed in.

"I think so?" Jeff guessed, eyeing the guy standing in the hallway down from them.

Gareth squinted, trying to get a better look. "Looks like." He agreed. "Also looks like Tiff was right, he is hanging out with other people."

Eddie tensed at that. A true feat, Gareth thought, because he was already wound so tight he looked in danger of snapping in half.

"Fucking useless." Tiff muttered.

Louder, she said; "Let's try that again. Isn't that our idiot jock with his ex-girlfriend and the guy she supposedly cheated on him with?"

The lot of them watched as Steve stood in one of his classic defensive positions (arms tucked into his sides, back rigid and chin down, like he was about to perform some kind of football tackle.)

Nancy Wheeler faced him, her own chin raised and her arms crossed like she was about to give the lecture of a lifetime.

In between them stood Jonathan Byers, though he was angled more towards his girlfriend than Steve. The guy practically radiated discomfort but seemed to be managing.

Even if his shoulders were practically above his ears.

It didn't exactly look like a two on one situation, but then it didn't not look like it either.

"Shit." Gareth said, which summed up the situation rather nicely.

"Should we go save him?" Grant asked, concerned.

Not one person moved.

Instead, all eyes went to their fearless leader--who was uncharacteristically silent.

Gareth took in the narrowed, frantic-turned-furious look upon his friend's face and wondered vaguely if he was going to have to stop a murder today.

Possibly two, depending on Byer’s involvement.

"Defensive position boys!" Tiffany called out, breaking the spell with sheer volume as she made the decision for them. "Eddie, you with us or not?"

Brave words for her, considering Gareth knew damn well that Tiff was often more bark than bite.

Thankfully, it worked.

"Right!" Eddie barked, jerking in place as he came back to himself. "Our Stevie needs us, men and Tiff!"

He pointed forwards, like a war general leading a charge. "Hellfire, move out!"

Fanning out into a triangle behind their club president, the lot of them followed as Eddie marched forward.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Nancy was saying, and even though Gareth didn't know her he could tell she was frustrated.

"You have people you can talk to. You have m--" she cut herself off when Eddie strode up next to Steve.

Then blinked rapidly, reminding Gareth of a startled cocker spaniel when the rest of Hellfire fanned out around Harrington like wolves guarding their young.

(Or brightly colored and very angry ducks, but wolves sounded cooler.

Plus the last time he'd said something like this aloud; Grant had loudly informed him it was actually Muskox that made protective circles, Stewart brought up that triceratops were cooler, Jeff decided they should be bees and Tiffany had gone off on a tangent about badly done animal behavioral studies.)

"I daresay I agree!" Eddie said, taking a dramatic leap forward and startling Steve and Byers both.

That alone was a cause to worry--Gareth couldn't recall a single time Steve wasn't hyper-aware of his surroundings enough to get properly lost in it.

At least lost enough that he missed an entire group of people approaching.

"Steve is more than welcome to talk to people! His people." Eddie leaned forward a touch, the smirk on his face the one he used when he was playing up his role as the town's satanist cult leader.

To her credit, Nancy recovered remarkably fast. "I take it you believe that's you?"

Eddie reared back, like a cobra rising to strike. "Why Nancy Wheeler, Stevie here is an adult and can choose who he wants to talk to.”

He turned, one hand over his heart and the other held out to Steve. " Ain’t that right, big boy?”

Nancy and Byers both just stared.

Gareth couldn’t blame them, he was staring too.

Apparently deciding Eddie was too ridiculous to deal with, Nancy returned instead to talking to Steve--who, Gareth noted with more than his fair share of pride, looked a bit more grounded now that Hellfire had arrived.

“I understand that we’re in a weird place right now, but you have to know I still care about you, right?” Nancy bit her lip, clearly unhappy to have an audience but plowing ahead anyway.

"I'm fine, Nance.” Steve told her, voice steady, but growing flat.

He was shutting down--shutting her out, if not everyone out. Gareth knew, if only because he’d watched Harrington do it to them more than once.

(Knew because he himself had shut downs just like this. Eddie and Nancy were the kind of people who got loud in their anger, demanding people see and face them.

Gareth on the other hand, even with his more explosive temper, often ended up more like Steve when faced with breakdowns with people he cared about. He didn’t want to hurt them. To say the wrong thing, to lash out when someone was just trying to help.

It was safer to shut up, back away and put some distance between yourself and whoever had pissed you off.)

Either Nancy wasn’t aware of that or was too deep into her own emotions to see it, because she took a half step forward. “I know you’re not fine. I know you, Steve.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Steve responded, and Gareth wondered if he realized he was leaning away from her--and towards Eddie.

Considering the way Wheeler’s eyes bounced between them, he knew she definitely had.

Quite possible Byers too, from how he had to stop himself from pulling Nancy away.

“I’ve been working hard to become someone else.” Steve added. “So you don’t have to feel responsible for me. I’m not your problem anymore.” He spoke without malice, just with the pure emptiness of someone who completely believed everything he said.

“Steve-” Nancy protested, but Eddie cut her off.

"You heard him." He said, peacocking his little social win in a way only Eddie could. "Now if you don't mind, I have extremely important things to discuss and you have cut drastically into my time."

He flicked his fingers in a shoo gesture, one that made Nancy's eyes spark in a way that quite frankly, terrified Gareth.

"Fine." She grit out through clenched teeth. "You know I’m always available to talk, Steve."

She strode off, passing Steve and the rest of Hellfire without a glance backwards.

"Sorry man." Jonathan muttered apologetically to Steve as he passed, following after his girlfriend.

Steve waved him off.

"Well she's just a delight." Jeff muttered, once Nancy was well out of hearing range.

Steve's entire chest heaved in a sigh, swaying slightly backwards as if the entire confrontation had physically drained him.

"She's trying to help.” Steve muttered softly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “She's just...coming at it wrong."

He turned, seeming to finally notice that all of Hellfire was there. "What are you all doing out here anyway?"

"Rescuing you." Grant informed him.

"From Nancy and Jonathan?" Steve said in disbelief.

Like Byers hadn't supposedly kicked his ass already. Nevermind the moping Wheeler had caused.

(The entire school had witnessed the moping.

It was, after all, part of what had drawn Eddie to Steve.)

"Yes." Tiff replied bluntly. “Also if she corners you like that again, I will make it my personal mission in life to top all her test scores.”

"I--okay." Steve blinked rapidly, clearly unsure of how to process that.

“Not that I needed rescuing,” He continued after a moment, staring at the whole group. “But why were you looking for me in the first place?”

His voice was slowly recovering, coming out of that weird flatness it had scrunched itself into. It was an excellent sign, a sign of trust, and Gareth leapt to keep it before someone could say something stupid and fuck it up.

"Eddie needed you to pitch his next one shot idea and couldn't wait for you to show up." Gareth admitted. “We decided to hunt you down since you were missing lunch.”

“Oh.” Steve blinked again, and though it’d be concerning on anyone else, the guy just looked like a lost puppy. “I’m sorry man.”

“It's alright Stevie. I just thought you'd totally ditched us.” Eddie sniffed dramatically, looking like he was going to wing an arm around Steve’s shoulder but thought better of it. “No biggie.”

He pouted, and made absolutely sure Steve could see him do it.

“Is this you trying to get more of my M&M brownies?” Steve asked after a moment.

“Oh my dear, sweet, athletic friend. Not at all. Instead, you are going to play the one shot I worked so hard on.” Eddie bounced his shoulder into him as he spoke.

It was a weird little compromise the two of them seemed to have, since Gareth had regularly witnessed Eddie ping-ponging off Steve’s shoulders. “Let us break your tabletop cherry.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, the tiniest bit of humor peaking through.

Eddie stared at him, abruptly still and completely serious. “I will cry, Steven. Loudly.”

It brought a small smile to Steve’s face.

“Fine. I’ll play your dumb dweeb game.” He said, and couldn’t seem to stop the smile from overtaking his face when Eddie threw his arms in the air and cheered.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure the bell rang forever ago.” Jeff said, as they began to venture out back to the main hallway.

(“Hey guys?” Steve asked, right before they all split up to go to their various classes. “Thanks. For the save.”

Eddie positively beamed. “Anytime, Steve. Anytime.”)

xXx

“Hey Gareth?” Steve asked a few days later, joining Gareth in the library during his free period.

(Gareth himself was skipping, because if he had to listen to yet another lesson on the Crucible he was going to declare himself a satan worshiping witch and demand to be hanged.)

Gareth hummed to show he heard, as he carefully took stock of the loot he’d gotten from their last game. Eddie had been pretty good about it for once, and he wanted to look things over before the one shot.

“Can I ask kind of a weird question?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Shoot, Stevie.” Gareth replied, finally comfortable enough to use the main nickname Eddie had nailed the poor guy with.

“Did Eddie give me a character with bad eyesight or “night vision” or whatever, because he thinks I have bad eyesight?” Steve’s fingers made sassy little air quotations around “night vision” because he knew damn well it wasn’t called that and didn’t want to get chewed out.

It was appreciated, even if it was cheeky as shit.

Gareth stopped writing. “Why’d you think that?”

“He just keeps acting like I’m my character.” Steve replied with a shrug. “Like all that stuff we planned about how my character gets around and relies on the group since he can’t see that great in the daylight? He does it for me too.”

“It’s Eddie, he’s eccentric.” Gareth struggled to keep a straight face, trying not to give the game away.

Laughing would absolutely clue Steve in to the fact that Eddie was doing it on purpose.

“He just keeps telling me before he touches me. Outside of the game.” Steve continued, utterly baffled.

Of course, Eddie was doing far more than that, in order to keep up the appearance that he was just being a weirdo who was too into his game. (Instead of trying to alert Steve to the fact he was going to lean on him, hug him, or do any other thing involving skin to skin contact that usually made Harrington panic.)

“If you don’t like it you should tell him,” Gareth said. He knew it was the better option, encouraging Steve to communicate. They could come up with something else if this was too weird (as frankly, many of Eddie’s plans could be.

Bless the guy but he had a habit of going for the dramatic over the practical.)

“No!” Steve protested, far too quickly.

He cleared his throat with a cough, and continued in a much calmer voice, “No, I don’t wanna ruin his fun or anything.”

As far as excuses go for letting something happen it was a weak one, but Gareth wasn’t going to call him on it. If Steve wanted to hide behind Eddie and his “fun” then Gareth would happily pretend to buy it.

Would buy whatever excuse Steve needed, to help make the guy feel more comfortable and like himself than the still often vacant ghost that hung around now.

“Just wanted to know if he actually thought my eyesight sucked.” Steve finished in a mumble.

“Well you did trip over the curb that one time.” Gareth teased playfully, and shot a grin at Harrington when that awkward look of his melted into something more offended.

“I was walking backwards!” Steve defended, his normal, almost bitchy tone returning.

“Uh-huh. And what about when you almost ate shit over that garbage can and Eddie had to save you?” Gareth taunted.

He grinned, watching as a blush overtook the older boys face, Steve glancing away frantically and--

Oh.

Oh!

'Oh-ho, ho, ho!' Gareth thought with absolute glee. The entire fucking school knew what Steve looked like when he had a crush, (Steve himself had made sure of that with Nancy) and Gareth recognized the beginning of it happening all over again.

Steve Harrington had a crush.

On Eddie.

Gareth could work with this.

“You know….” He paused, grin turning sly as a sudden idea came to him. “If you want to mess with Eddie a little bit I have an idea.”

Steve stared at him, confused. “Why would we want to mess with him?”

Gareth leaned forward. “Because pranks are fun, Harrington. Legend has it you even used to do them.”

Steve still didn't look convinced, but the nice thing about a man like Steve was that all Gareth had to appeal to was his sense of adventure.

“Now." He clapped his hands together in a move that had very much been stolen years ago from Eddie. "How good are your acting skills?

Meant to post this yesterday but I got surprise laid off last week and that pushed me back a bit, sorries! Absolutely related, I have a Ko-Fi now lmao. It’s https://ko-fi.com/sp0o0kyghosthost

Unemployment should go through just fine so I don’t really think I need to full panic but hey if you wanna throw me a dollar and yell “Dance writer dance!” I’ll do a lil tippy-tap jig.

#fucking jobs #this ones a bit more whumpy #steddie #pre steddie #they gettin there though #hellfire adopts Steve #adopt a jock #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth emerson #Nancys in this one #she cares theres just a lot of hurt there #Eddie on the other hand is JEALOUS #that is HIS jock thank you!#He is REHABBING that jock!#dont you make his Stevie sad!#Gareth is now playing matchmaker #Lap Wars is coming

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javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months

Text

Movie Night

Summary: You and Javi are trying to pick a movie to watch together. When Javi decides to change into gray sweatpants to get more comfortable... something else besides movie watching ensues.

Word Count: 2.3K

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), established relationship, face fucking, oral (m receiving), mastrubation (f), praise kink, Javi in gray sweatpants (it deserves its own warning), reader has hair that can be held, Javi being a menace but still soft and sweet (because that's just how I roll)

A/N: This was inspired by an ask from an anon (thank you, non, Javi in gray sweatpants is everything), and I'm absolutely feral completely normal about it!!! Also, I had this gif in mind the whole time I was writing this because GOD DAMN 🥴🥵

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Forrest Gump?”

“No…”

“Jaws?”

“No, not that either…”

“Pulp Fiction?”

“Not that one…”

“Well ya gotta pick something Osita.” Javi sighed, laughing to himself at your indecisiveness as he put back the VHS tape choices he had pulled out for your weekly Friday night movie. Ever since the two of you had started dating, Friday nights had been exclusively reserved for you and Javi cuddling up on your couch, eating the pizza he picked up on the way home from work, and catching him up on the many movie classics he had missed since his time away in Colombia- a well deserved way to end both of your weeks. The first few weeks of movie night picks had been easy- mandating that Javi had to watch all of the Star Wars and Indiana Jones series (your two personal favorites) before moving on to anything else. You had let Javi pick what movies he had wanted to watch from there, mostly to curb any time wasted from your indecisiveness on choosing something.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna pick?” You groaned, squatting down next to Javi as the two of you sorted through the movie collection under the TV stand.

“Osita, I’ve picked like, the last 3 weeks in a row. I promise, I don’t care what we watch. I’ll make it easy on you. Here…” Reaching back into the TV stand, Javi pulled out a few random movies, scattering them on the ground before looking back at you. “I’m gonna go change out of my work clothes, pick something from these by the time I get back. Only 4 choices. Can’t be that hard, ya dork.” Javi chuckled, pressing a quick kiss onto your forehead before standing back up and making his way towards the bedroom.

‘Fine…” You grumbled, shuffling through the choices that Javi had left. Reaching down next to you, you picked up “The Princess Bride”, deeming it the best of the 4 random tapes Javi had pulled from the TV stand, popping it in to the VHS player before settling back onto the couch, curling up in one of the blankets you had draped over the sides. “I picked something!” You shouted towards the bedroom, hearing Javi’s footsteps beginning to make their way down the hall.

“See? Knew you could do it, Hermosa.” Javi’s voice trailed behind him as he stepped into the living room, playfully rolling his eyes at you. “So, what are we watching?”

Truth be told, you hadn’t heard a single word Javi had said since you had watched him enter the living room- Not after seeing what he was wearing.

He had changed out of his work attire and exchanged it for a fitted black t-shirt and gray sweatpants that left very little to the imagination. Javi had insisted to you that they really were the only pair of sweatpants that he had, but there was a part of you that was convinced he knew just how irresistible he looked in them, and that the sight of him in those pants made you absolutely feral.

“Hmmmm?” You replied, visibly shaking your head to try and reel yourself in from the thoughts you were already having after seeing your boyfriend walk into the room in his new outfit. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked, what movie are we watching?” He nodded towards the TV as he sat next to you on the couch, legs splayed open in a way that had the outline of his bulge perfectly pressed against the gray fabric of his pants. You could practically feel your mouth watering as you looked down at his lap- you were trying your best not to stare, but you couldn’t help but swipe your tongue along your bottom lip breathing heavily as you looked up at Javi.

“Or…” You smirked, working your way across the couch to crawl into Javi’s lap, straddling him with your legs on either side of his, running your fingers through the dark curls of his hair. “We could not watch the movie and do something else.” Your hands began to travel down Javi’s body, resting on his chest and grabbing at fist fulls of his shirt as your hips pressed down into his, feeling him starting to become hard underneath you, your kisses becoming desperate and frantic.

“Something else, huh?” You could feel Javi’s boyish grin between the presses of your lips, his hands working their way up and down your body before digging into your hips as you rolled them against his lap.

“Mhmmmmmm.” You nodded, reaching down to palm at Javi’s dick, straining against the fabric of his pants. “God, you look so good in these. You know what these sweatpants do to me, Jav?” Your kisses left Javi’s lips, slowly trailing down his body in hot, wet presses against the exposed skin of his neck and soft fabric of his shirt. You slid off Javi’s lap, kneeling on the ground in front of him, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants, springing free his cock, already painfully hard and leaking with precum. Javi lifted his legs, shuffling his pants down to pool around his ankles, letting your hands and kisses wander up his thighs.

“Fuck me, Hermosa…” Javi groaned, leaning his head back against the edge of the couch as you planted hot kisses along his length, one hand slowly stroking the base of his shaft, the other running up and down the skin of his legs. “You wanna suck my dick, baby?”

You smirked, gently shaking your head from side to side, looking up at Javi. “I- I want you to fuck my mouth, Javi.”

Javi’s eyes went wide, jaw immediately going slack as your words left your mouth, visabally taking a moment to process your request. He reached down to cradle your face, forcing your gaze up towards his. “Baby… I don’t- Hermosa…are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you or anything.”

Regardless of what either of you wanted in the bedroom, rough, soft, or anything in between, Javi’s first priority had always been making sure that first and foremost, you were comfortable. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about your request before- as much as he loved going down on you, Javi absolutely lost his mind every time you went down on him, and the thought of you on your knees, taking his cock deep down your throat as he fucked your mouth had him rock hard.

“Javi,” You giggled, biting down on your lip, raising an eyebrow at him, “I’m positive. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t want to. I wanna make you feel good, baby.” Grabbing the hand gently cupping your cheek, you tugged at it, forcing him to stand up, running your hands up and down his thighs before removing one to lick a broad strip down your palm and wrap it around his shaft, slowly stroking it, making him groan.

“Fuck me.” He muttered to himself, watching you wrap your hand around his length and taking him into your mouth, swirling the tangy mix of his arousal and your spit around your tongue. He ran his hand through the dark curls of his hair, trying his best to keep his composure, already so worked up from just the thought of what you were about to let him do alone. “If it’s too much, you let me know, okay? Tap my leg or my arm or whatever, and I’ll stop, no questions asked, I-”

“Javi. I love you, baby. I wanna choke on your dick. I promise I’ll be okay.” You smirked, nodding in reassurance, hand still twisting around the base of his shaft, making its way up to thumb at his tip, red and leaking, sliding the mix of your saliva and his precum up and down his length.

“Jesus. Okay, Hermosa. Open that pretty mouth for me, baby girl.” He reached down, thumb tugging at your bottom lip before sliding his hand along the back of your head, carefully cradling it as your jaw hinged open, sticking out your tongue for him to place his cock on. Your eyes batted up at him through heavy lashes, gripping around the back of his bare thighs as you let your mouth relax, his length hard and heavy against your tongue as you took him between your lips. He eased into your throat, setting a slow pace as his hips gently rocked as you took him deeper into your mouth, hearing him audibly moan as your fingertips dug into the skin of his legs, urging him to go deeper, pulling him closer to you. “You sure?” Javi looked at you, eyes wide as you nodded, humming against his cock in approval, as if he knew exactly what your little gesture had meant.

Javi pulled back, pausing for a moment, a devilish smirk spreading across his face before pushing all the way back in, making you hollow your cheeks and breath through your nose, brushing up against the curls at his base, the sweet and musky scent of him filling your nostrils as you inhaled. “Oh fuck, Osita. Holy shit.” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching your mouth fill with his cock. His fingers ran through your hair, tugging a little tighter as his thrusts began to quicken, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull. “Fuck, such a good girl taking me so well. So fucking pretty when you suck my cock baby, holy fuck.”

His other hand met his first, cupping the back of your head as he fucked into you, hitting the back of your throat as tears welled in your eyes and drool pooled from your lips as his cock consumed your mouth. You loved sucking Javi’s dick because you knew just how good it made him feel- watching his face all blissed out, leaving him a moaning and muttering mess. But this? Looking up at him through your heavy lids seeing the pure euphoria radiating off of him? It was unmatched.

You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that had rapidly been building between your legs, feeling the wetness pooling in the fabric of your underwear. Desperate to ease your own needs, you shifted one of the hands that was holding the back of Javi’s thigh, bringing it down to snake down your sweatpants and the waistband of your panties, humming in relief around Javi’s length as you rubbed your clit, already throbbing and pulsing before your fingers had even touched it. Feeling the absent grip of your fingertips in his leg, Javi looked down to see you touching yourself as his cock thrusted in and out of your mouth, making his jaw even more slack, while his pace became more frantic and sloppy.

“You touching yourself, baby? Fuck- sucking my cock like this got you all worked up?” Javi groaned through gritted teeth as you nodded up at him with watery eyes, hollowing your cheeks to try and keep from gagging as he brushed against the back of your throat. “Fuck meeee.” He whimpered, not sure how much longer he was going to last watching you, feeling the tingle at the base of his spine already beginning to grow. “Dirty fucking girl. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby- shit- be a good girl and make yourself cum on those pretty little fingers for me, yeah? Wanna see you- oh fuck- wanna see you cum for me before I fuck myself down your throat.”

Sliding deeper into your panties, you felt the slick covering your folds as you dipped your 2 fingers inside your heat, the palm of your hand bumping against your clit while you touched yourself, feeling equally as worked up and close to finishing as Javi was. Saliva spilled from the sides of your mouth as tears slid down your cheeks as Javi’s cock filled every inch of your mouth, the veins of his dick throbbing along your tongue. You could feel your pussy begin to flutter as your hands slid in and out of your dripping entrance, arousal pooling in your belly with each brush of your palm along your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your whimpers and moans humming around Javi’s cock had him reeling, his fingers gripping tighter around the ends of your hair as he cradled the back of your head, as he pushed deeper down your throat.

Suddenly, you could feel the coil inside you snap, your cunt clenching hard around your fingers as your orgasm ripped through you, your eyes squeezing shut and the breathing through your nose becoming heavier as you came. Knowing that you had hit your high, Javi sought relentlessly to reach his own, desperately thrusting into you. “Fuck me, Osita. Fuck. I’m so close baby, shit, gonna fill up that pretty mouth of yours. Meirda, Hermosa, ay dios mío, voy a-aahhhhhhhhh (Shit, Beautiful, oh my god, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh).” With one more push of his hips, Javi’s spilled himself inside you, hot ropes of his spend coating the back of your throat as his cock throbbed, milking himself of every last drop before pulling back out of your mouth. Both of your breaths were slow and heavy, Javi’s hand resting under your chin, tilting your messy, wet face up towards his as you swallowed, taking his cum down your throat.

“Jesus Christ…” He whispered to himself, his jaw still slack and eyes wide as he looked down at you, a devilish grin now growing across his face. “Fuck me. Fuck, that was so hot. You okay, baby?” He asked, pulling you up to stand as you used the back of your hand to wipe the spit still dripping from the edges of your lips.

“More than okay.” You smirked, pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a hot kiss on his lips, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “We’re gonna have to get you new sweatpants, Jav.” You giggled, still laughing at the fabric pooled around his ankles. Javi tilted his head in confusion, reaching down to shuffle his pants and boxers over his legs.

“Why’s that, Hermosa?”

“Because if you keep putting on those sweatpants every time we’re supposed to watch a movie, I don’t think we’re ever gonna watch a movie again.”

Taglist

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @dappydelta @blackfemalenerd

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grandlinedreams · 6 months

Note

Hey, um I love your works, especially the angsty-themed 😭. Anyway, here's the prompt :

We know that Law is a very private person, and he just doesn't want people to see any type of affection between him and the reader. So imagine like things get hectic, or like he's too focused on his long-term planning. He becomes cold and indifferent, and the reader is not an exception even if the reader is simply willing to help. Yes, he's a private person, but everyone already knows that the reader is his partner. His crew, or maybe the og member that is older than him, are getting uncomfortable and reminding (or rather scolding) him for his behaviour to the reader. Maybe the reader overheard their argument and gets sad because the reader has tried not to take his reaction personally, but it's not a good sign when others have enough. This ends with Law's realization that his crews support their relationship and wish the best for them, showing affection in front of them won't get him teased or even annoy his crew.

Thank you, Love 🫶

Hiya papaya!! Sorry that it's taken me so long to get to this, but I hope I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: Law being a tiiny bit of a red flag, unhealthy coping mechanisms, hefty touch of angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort]

"Is that for captain?"

Looking up from where you're setting things on the tray to carry, you find Penguin watching you and you nod.

"How is he? We haven't seen much of him lately."

You hesitate. Penguin knows Law even better than you do, as do Shachi and Bepo ㅡ they're from a chapter of his life you've only ever gotten brief comments about.

"You know how he gets when he's figuring out a plan," you sigh, and Penguin nods. "I'm going to take this to him."

"You're the best at cheering him up," your crewmate calls after you as you walk away, and your fingers curl around the tray.

You wish that was true, that you had an innate knack for easing Law's burdens the way the others seem to think you do. And maybe you did, at one time ㅡ but not lately.

You can't even tell anyone that it's been days since Law even talked to you. It's been a cycle of going to bed without him, waking up alone, and swapping out plates of barely touched food and drink for new.

You know that this is what happens when he gets focused on something, have seen it before ㅡ but it hurt a little less when you weren't his partner. You know you can't expect him to immediately tell you everything, but telling you nothing isn't fair, either.

You knock, then nudge the door open with your hip. Law hasn't moved from where he'd been when you woke up, nor does he look up when you approach.

"I made grilled salmon this time," you say quietly, glancing at the carefully shaped onigiri. "And tea."

Steam curls off the top, but Law doesn't so much as glance your way. This too has not been unusual, but again, it digs the blade further into your chest.

Have you done something wrong? Surely there's more to it than just being busy for him to shut you out so completely.

You turn to leave, stilling when there's finally, finally a murmur of your name from your boyfriend. Your heart leaps, and you turn, small smile on your lips. "Yes?"

He still isn't looking at you. "Stay in the crew bunkhouse tonight. I can't afford to be distracted right now."

Maybe it'd be better if he yelled at you. If he'd be angry with you, be something with you ㅡ because the flat tone and way he still won't actually look at you hurts far worse than anything else.

"Oh," you say softly, "...of course."

You shut the door behind you, back pressed against it as you take a few steadying breaths, willing yourself not to cry. You won't, not when it will get you scolded if he finds out ㅡ so you close your eyes and count to ten, then pull away from the door.

You can do this for him, give him his space, support him from the edges of that barrier he's made around himself.

You can, and you will.

ㅡ

"Not that we aren't happy to have you here [Name], but..." Clione squints at you. "What are you doing here?"

You look up from where you're pulling back the blankets of your bed ㅡ a bed you haven't slept in for months, as your mind is so gleefully cruel in reminding you. "What do you mean?"

"He means that you're usually with captain," Ikkaku says, watching you with a look of gentle concern.

You're not sure how to answer that and you fumble, fighting hard against the flush of your cheeks. "How do youㅡ"

"You're not as subtle as you think," Hakugan chimes in. "I know captain won't say it, but we've all pretty much figured it out already. Not much you can hide on the 'Tang."

He has a point. Ikkaku is still watching you, her head tilting.

"So...is everything okay?"

You blink, fingers curling against your blanket. "Everything is fine," you say, even though it's far from it. Though they may know about your relationship, you highly doubt that Law would be pleased if they knew about any issues. "I just felt like sleeping in here, that's all."

It's clear none of them believe you, sharing a brief look as you slip underneath your blanket and roll onto your side. It's strange now, going from the comfort of a bed shared with someone to alone ㅡ but if Law needs you to do this, you can do this.

You don't sleep well, not at all ㅡ and when you've finally had enough of tossing and turning, you slip out of bed as quietly as you can, mindful not to disturb your crewmates.

Machinery hums beneath your feet as you pad down the narrow hallway, turning the corner ㅡ and nearly bumping into a firm chest.

You stumble back, balance corrected by the hand that reaches out to grip your shoulder ㅡ familiar warmth, tanned fingers stamped by familiar tattoos.

Law.

It's the first time he's touched you in the better part of a week and a half, and you almost hate yourself for how badly you want to beg for more. He doesn't even have to kiss you ㅡ just a hug would do.

You miss him.

Law's lips part like he's going to say something, but the creak of a door opening makes him tense ㅡ and reality washes over you like an icy bucket of water.

So you do what you have to ㅡ you dhrug his hand off of your shoulder, curve your lips into a smile you don't feel, and take a step back.

"Good morning, captain," you tell him, ignore how it rips your chest open to be so formal with him and slip around him to begin your own day.

ㅡ

"Did something happen between you and [Name]?"

The question makes Law tense from where he's putting away medical supplies from the latest supply run, glancing at Shachi who'd volunteered to help him. That, he supposes, should have been his first clue. Not that Shachi isn't helpful ㅡ but that he has an agenda of his own.

Law looks away. "I don't know what you mean."

Shachi huffs. "Don't play dumb, captain." He knows he's treading the line of insubordination, but there's only so much he and the others can take of this. "We know you're together."

Law stills.

"[Name] didn't tell us anything," Shachi continues. "We figured it out. So don't be mad at them."

Law is quiet, trying to process the other man's words before he says slowly, "How long have you and the others known?"

Shachi shrugs. "Couple of months." His tone softens, though it still carries an edge of scolding. "You can't just shut everyone out like that, captain. Especially not if you're in a relationship with someone."

Law wants to argue, say that he didn't ㅡ but he did. Pushed you as far as he could, made you keep your distance. He'd backtracked on months of progress, of affection and trust ㅡ and called you distracting.

Ans you'd taken it all in stride. You hadn't gotten angry, hadn't fought with him ㅡ simply nodded, smiled, and let him treat you as he pleased.

You'd let him hurt you, something he'd promised he'd never do ㅡ

"Finish putting this away for me," he tells Shachi, who watches as Law leaves the storage room without looking back, and he grins.

"About time."

ㅡ

You stir to the feeling of being carried. That's funny, you don't even remember falling asleep ㅡ but you must've, curled up on the couch with a book.

You squirm, and the arms around you tighten as your eyelids flutter. "Waking up?"

Your eyes snap open. "Law," you say, staring up at your boyfriend ㅡ or at least, who you hope is still your boyfriend. "What are you doing?"

"You fell asleep on the couch," he says, "and I'm taking you to bed before you end up with a crick in your neck from sleeping like that."

"Oh." You study the curve of black ink on his chest. "To the bunkhouse?"

"No, to myㅡ" He stops, corrects himself. "Our room."

That gives you a glimmer of hope, allows for you to snuggle further against him, which relieves him in turn. You aren't angry with him ㅡ both a blessing and a little bit of a curse, brcause you have every right to be.

As if sensing his thoughts, you sigh softly. "I'm not mad at you."

"You should be." He nudges his door open, shuts it behind him before continuing towards the bed. The bed that's been far too cold over the last couple of days without your presence.

You cling to him, even after he sets you down, coaxing him to lay next to you. "I'm not," you insist again. "Just wish you'd trust me a little more. I want to help, Law."

Your fingers brush his cheek, and he reaches to grasp them, presses soft kisses to your fingertips. "I know. I need to work on that. I shouldn't have shut you out like that, it wasn't fair to you."

You press closer. "We can work on it together," you say, lips against his collarbone, sweet kisses that make him shiver. "Right?"

"Right," he agrees softly, pulls you to him as close as he can, wraps himself around you. "Together."

#ㅡmine.#one piece scenario #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #anonymous #–ml: law.

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theroyalyandere · 7 months

Note

i love your writing soooo much!! if it's not too much trouble, may i get some headcanons of the yandere emperor & a commoner/fallen noble darling?

I'm answering this request because this just made me feel things 🫢

Warning: this work contains dark content. Mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of harassment, and gambling addiction, yandere, mentions of death, some graphic description of dead bodies, mentions of trauma, kidnapping, physical assault, torture, mentions of blackmailing, assassination

Kindly scroll away if you do not wish to interact with this post or my blog. Remember this is only a work of fiction and shall not be taken seriously!

authors note: This is actually pretty tame because I want darling to fall in love with yan!emperor. I also made this gender neutral for those who have been looking for content like this. I wanna improve in writing smut.

yandere!emperor x commoner/fallen noble!darling 18+ smut

A little bit of background, your family used to be an established noble house but due to some conflict the previous emperor and the court had taken away your family's title.

The noble family you belonged in was a prestigious name throughout the land, the fall of your house surely caused a lot of catastrophe in your life.

One day you're living lavishly being pampered by your servants and family then the next you're stripped of your title as a noble with hundreds of people as witnesses.

Your father was so devastated he drowned himself in agony alcohol. Your mother had begun to partake in gambling. Your siblings had either become criminals or worked at brothels, truly a fall from grace.

Seeing the destruction and misery that had fallen upon your family, you still tried to do your best to live as an upright citizen of the land.

Despite the numerous whispers you hear, the taunts, and sometimes the harassment from those with two eyes following your every move.

A few years later, the previous emperor had passed his crown to his only heir, the Crown Prince Alastair. A man beloved by many with his aid, the empire had flourished through his genius mind.

You on the other hand, had moved away from the capital, away from the judging stares and malicious mouths you encounter. You managed to live your life and survive through hardship further solidifying your will.

You accepted the fate bestowed upon you and live your life in peace.

One day while washing your laundry at the riverbed, Emperor Alastair has stumbled upon you while he was out on a hunting trip with some nobles accompanying him.

You were minding your own business until an arrow was shot on your way ultimately landing on the poor hare in front of you.

You look up and see a dashing man grinning down at you, an amused glint in his eye as he introduces himself.

He thinks he had seen you before but could not pinpoint when and where but for him, Alastair could not believe he had coincidentally found a beautiful person such as you.

He believes that this is destiny, you are the one he will love and worship in his lifetime.

You are equally charmed by his gentlemanly gestures, quickly ensnaring your heart as you were captivated the same way as you did with him.

You converse for a little while until a group of nobles that accompanied him had appeared where one of them had recognized you.

The noble sneered as he started to mention who you were and started to degrade how desperate you are which effectively makes you cower a little.

The noble had mentioned that Alastair is the emperor startling you that you did not know he was the new emperor making you feel even more ashamed.

Little did you know, Alastair had a dark look in his eyes. Disgust and rage running through him as the noble continued to talk down on you.

You were going to be his beloved, the one who will rule by his side until you're all frail and gray.

Alastair stepped between and stares down at the noble, subtly insulting the noble's own lineage making him regret his mistakes.

Alastair then turns to you, his change of demeanor surprised you as he suggests to accompany you. You admit you were charmed by him and agreed.

He stayed at the village you live in, spending most of his time getting to know you completely winning your trust and affections.

At the last day of his hunting trip he had asked you to go back to him to the capital.

Even though you were reluctant and something has been nagging you to not go with him but due to his charms and you believe you were in love you followed him back to the capital.

As the carriage carries you away, you remembered the noble who insulted you on the first meeting with Alastair.

You curiously asked him and Alastair only smiled and replied that the noble had already gone back to the capital a few days early.

He tells you to not worry and only pulls you closer to him.

What you did not know the man who insulted you was already a decomposing body in the woods.

After a few days, you arrived back at the capital making you anxious due to the trauma.

Alastair felt you tensed up and tried to soothe you with his words and strokes on your skin, distracting you from time to time.

Hiding behind him from the stares was proven to be futile, as he is the emperor, it is natural all attention would be on him.

As you two were walking inside the palace, the servants and nobles lingering and passing by kept their eyes on you and they all began to glare and whisper again.

As you enter the throne room, you and Alastair were greeted by the former empress and emperor who immediately locked eyes with you.

Both of you bowed before the dowager empress and the former emperor, their eyes staring holes right through you.

Alastair rises with grace and a smile on his face. Your face falls as he introduces you as his lover. Everyone in the court gasped and the former emperor's face curled into anger.

His booming voice echoed throughout the entire room making you shake in fear.

He suggests that you should go back to where you came from or else you would tarnish the imperial family's great image.

Alastair chose to fight his love for you even though you haven't confessed to each other yet, you believe that you two had a connection.

Tears began to swell in your eyes but you would not want to let anyone see them fall so you ran away from everyone not knowing where your feet will take you.

You find a secluded place where you sit down to process what happened, questioning yourself whether you truly made the right choice to follow the man you love.

A few minutes later, Alastair finds you and embraces you tight against him.

He apologizes for startling you and declares that he truly loves you. From the bottom of his heart Alastair, is deeply in-love with you.

His father may call him obsessed but no one ever knows what he really feels. Anyone who thinks about separating you from him shall be eliminated.

He tells you not to care about what others say and before you say anything he cuts you off with a deep kiss which leads to you being brought to his chambers.

You strip each other out of your clothes feverishly, grabbing each other's flesh.

Alastair devours your lips in a breathless kiss, a string of saliva connecting you two as he parts away.

He looks down at you with lust and devotion evident in his eyes. He tells you that you're beautiful.

His hardened cock twitches against you, making you feel more aroused. The sight of his large cock makes you drool.

The precum oozing at the tip and the veins decorating the sides makes you want to worship him.

So you asked him to lay back and worship him. At first, he refuses to do so but when you start to stroke his cock he relents allowing you to go down on him.

As you start to worship his cock with kisses and licks, Alastair thinks he's going to go insane with how much pleasure he feels from being teased by you.

Eventually you take his tip into your mouth, curiously swirling your tongue around him before taking him inch by inch until you can't.

Your hands wrap around what you can't reach and you do your best to pleasure him. He starts to lose his composure at the sensation of your warm mouth wrapped around his cock.

He will surely lose his damn mind seeing you make eye contact with him. He couldn't help but hold onto your head as he nears his peak.

He loves the gagging sounds you produced and although it was sudden, you can't deny you loved how he took control.

Alastair brutally thrusts his hips into your warm mouth until he pulls out to paint your face with cum.

You gasp for air when he releases you, feeling your arousal intensify at the feeling of his cum dripping down your face.

He became hard again and this time he got on top of you. Alastair groans as he tells you how much he has waited to touch you and feel you.

He pushes inside you making you arch in pleasure. He fucks you mercilessly for the whole night surely making the whole empire hear your screams and moans.

The next day a servant came in and was shocked to discover the mess that your little endeavor with him caused.

Since then people knew that both you and the emperor often slept with each other causing chaos and solidifying your title as his lover.

There had been a time where he was supposed to meet another noble to become his empress. You were caught being fucked by him at the garden where the meeting place was supposed to be.

The poor woman had to see you being wrecked by the emperor.

You then earned a reputation as the Emperor's whore, a rather derogatory term which bothered you a little.

Alastair became more insatiable sometimes going at it for several hours at risky places.

He also went against his father and continued to cause ruckus.

The former emperor could not separate you from Alastair, he needed to take drastic measures to make you disappear.

Days later, the palace held a huge ball where you were invited at. You enjoyed your time sticking to Alastair, not giving a fuck about anyone and anything for as long as you're with him, you're alright.

Later, Alastair was called urgently making him grumble for being separated from you.

As you were walking towards a secluded balcony, you were suddenly hit in the head making you black out.

You blink your eyes until your vision clears and in front of you were soldiers looking down at you.

They began to beat you until you coughed blood and your body bloomed with bruises.

You were tortured until the sun rises, with your soul feeling hollow. They kept you in captivity where they would mistreat you badly you could not lift a finger.

A day later, you woke up with screams ringing in your ears. A loud bang came from the exit of the cell you were held in. There stood Alastair wearing an armor covered in blood.

He sees you and feels his heart being crushed into pieces at the state you're in.

Everything becomes a blur when he gently cradles you in his arms and guides you away from the cell.

He takes you back to the palace where he commands everyone to take care of you.

Alastair confronted his father who was behind your assassination.

Without a word, he slays his father where the empress dowager screamed in horror at the gruesome sight. Alastair then slays the older woman.

That day blood bathes the whole palace with the amount of bodies that experienced his wrath.

Everyone who he deems to take you away from him is eliminated.

Terror began to spread while at the same time he loomed over you watching your condition.

You slowly healed but every little mistake made by the servants and healers resulted in death.

One time a servant made a loud noise, which triggered you. The servant was immediately beheaded by Alastair himself.

After a while, he introduces you before the people as his official consort by marrying you, ending any marriage proposal sent to him.

Your family found out you were crowned consort and tried to pester you about it. Alastair deems them unworthy and blackmails them to keep them away from you.

In the end, he got you despite still being a little broken. He vows to nurse you back to your old self to the best of his abilities.

For now, he will hold you in his arms and love you till the day he dies.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #royal requests #yandere smut #yandere emperor x reader #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn!reader

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Note

omg congrats on 10.5k, thats frickin amazing!! ♡ if you feel like writing it,

🖋 + joel miller

"you couldn't love me if you tried. You couldn't love anything"

"that's not true"

hi Rhi! first, thank you so much. i stared at your prompt 'till the scene came to me, and i hope you like it. — main masterlist | 🏷️: established 'situationship', post-outbreak, insecure!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, insecure!Joel, mentions of smut, adult themes so minors DNI, feelings confession. [WC: 2.1k]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ you call it madness ꒱

Joel had the power to awaken the most potent, brand-new things to your surface. Since he had arrived in Jackson with the bright kid trailing after him and his mountains of pent-up trauma, Joel lived under your skin.

At first, it was because of his cold, indifferent distance.

Then, when the first couple of months passed by and working side by side forced proximity on you two leading you to the realization that a lot of the gruffness and silence was just a facade, the issue became his nonchalant air of detached.

Everything you wanted was to have in him the same effect he had on you.

That tingle. That burn on your nape when the person enters the room. The hype-awareness of their every move. You wanted Joel attached to you, glued to your skin, and when you got it, he made you swallow all your need and desire down with the bitter pill of what having you Joel meant.

Having Joel came with the taste of cheap alcohol, the scent of burnt things, and that quivering darkness that seemed to follow him unless Ellie was around.

It came with his ghosts hanging off his back, and his mind stuck in a limbo that cemented in him the idea that his ghosts weighted more than they did.

It took him months to allow you into his life. Months of you trying to figure out why he pissed you off so much and why even though his monosyllabic bullshit made your skin itch, you still found a way to interact with him at every given opportunity.

When he started laughing at your jokes—no, when Joel started snickering under his breath whenever you made a sharp comment to a fellow worker, it became your addiction. The fact that you were not other people.

Not for him.

Wearing him down was supposed to be about getting him off of your mind, removing him from under your skin.

It ended up being your ticket into his home, his life, his bed.

Joel had this power of making you do things you had no clue you even knew how.

Things that the you from before — a someone who’d been deceased long ago — would gasp out loud at.

But fuck all of that. Fuck anything that strayed away from being the reason for Joel Miller laughing, or god forbid, making him and Ellie happy.

You’d take it all to pay the price for that.

You’d accept his days of silence and his days of trying to make jokes, or teach you and Ellie how to play the guitar eve if you sucked at it and the girl had what seemed like a natural talent.

So what if Joel sometimes bled his darkness all over you?

You begged for it.

So what if he whispered the filthiest things in your ear as he took you wherever he wanted, however he wanted, claiming you over and over with fingerprints imprinted on your skin, beard burns leaving red trails from your face and neck all the way down to places other people would never get a chance to look at again, according to Joel himself?

Considering how welcoming you were to all of it, one would think you’d know your place. Or at least know better than to expect out of Joel Miller something he stopped believing he can give to anyone a long time ago.

Despite your best judgment, you did hope. You wished, and dreamt of it, and cried about it in silent tears on his damn pillow when he turned away from you to sleep sometimes.

It goes on until he catches up to all of it.

Joel always catches up to things. Especially if that thing is related to you.

On a winter night, a whole year after he and Ellie have settled and officially made a home, you two are discussing things after dinner in his kitchen.

Ellie went to a friend’s house, leaving the both of you to your shitty pizzas and even shittier booze. Joel, propped against the sink with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair a messy mop of curls, looks pissed off at your comment that, “she gotta at least put the Miller stare away. Time it properly, if she wants to make more friends.”

It was supposed to be a joke. Something only you two would understand. Instead, Joel turns around with that pinch between his eyes.

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

You put the mug down, thrown back by his tone, making a noncommittal sound. He repeats his question, confirming you did hear what you thought, and it makes you snicker. “Joel. Would you like a goddamn mirror right now, handsome?”

The nickname does nothing to phase his look. “You sayin’ I’m a bad influence on her? That I’m the reason she ain’t got no other friends?’

“Woah, woah—take it many, many steps back, cowboy—”

“I ain’t laughin’. I don’t know why you are.”

“Because it’s ridiculous!” All your ironic humor is gone. Evaporated like water under the scolding sun. “D’you hear yourself? I said time it properly, Joel. I know exactly just how useful the grouchy look is, trust me.”

“I don’t tell her to do that shit. She’s always been like that.” He turns back around with that stiffness in his shoulders.

“I know.” You try calming yourself, your voice, your tone. Joel can be prickly, as can you. “It’s… her little way. It makes Ellie Ellie, and honestly, it’s what makes her stand out. Her personality’s one of a kind, that’s for sure, and I wouldn’t trade an inch of it for anything else, but she’s—impulsive. And while I love, all I’m sayin is—”

“Other people don’t,” he completes.

“Exactly.”

There was the noise of the final dishes being placed to dry, and Joel cleaning up his work.

“You love how impulsive she is?” Although Joel’s finished, he keeps his back to you. His tone is back to an amused one, for some reason.

“Sure I do.” You loved her since you two were out of town and got stuck in a blizzard together, and Ellie told you about her friend Riley. Loved, with every fiber in you. “It’s not useful, but it just means her fire’s alive. I like that. It’s better than the alternative. You know what happens when people’s fires die.”

At that, Joel finally turns around, drying his hands in his own clothes, fixing his dark eyes on you. “Yeah. I’ve got a mirror.”

God, you think. There he goes again.

You sigh, annoyed and angry, just like that. In a split second. Because of four little words. “If you’re gonna start talking shit about yourself—”

Joel cuts you with his laugh. “Sorry. ‘m sorry.” He steps closer to you, pulling the chair he was using during dinner closer until it’s glued on yours, and he sits. “Dunno why you hate it so much, but I’ve leared better. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Better than the alternative, you guessed. You hummed, not that over your sudden wave of anger.

The way he saw himself contrasted who he was so much that it pissed you off more than any Clicker ever could.

“Hey.” Joel brings up one hand to cup your cheek, and it soothes his cold hand over your jaw, landing on your nape. “‘s fine. I won’t be talkin’ about broken old me, ‘kay?”

Fire raged in your veins and his hand on your neck was the only anchor keeping your from storming off his house.

“It’s like you wanna piss me off sometimes.”

Joel has the audacity to laugh at you. “I just said I ain’t gonna say anythin’, woman.”

“You’re not broken,” you argue, serious and angry enough to get that insanely stupidly gorgeous and self-depracating smile out of his face.

“We’ll just agree to disagree here—”

“No, we fucking won’t. You’re not a thing, you can’t broken if you’re not a thing.”

“That’s funny, ‘cause I feel a lot of fuckin’ pieces missing.” Joel rarely speaks with that roughness directed towards you, but that’s better. Realer than the sardonic smile. He sighs deeply, his face relaxing a second after. Tired, he squeezes your neck. “Look—I made a stupid joke. I know you don’t like me talkin’ shit about myself for lord knows what reason, so I won’t—”

“‘Cause they’re not true.”

It surprises you both, you think. The crack in your voice. The shimmery wetness in your vision blurring the sight of a stunned Joel certainly surprises you.

You swallow the knot in your throat, but it’s stuck there. You speak around it anyway. “It’s the same way you feel when they talk about ‘er, ok?” You sniffle, looking away from him to blink down the tears. “I fucking hate it.”

It’s how you feel when they shittalk Ellie.

The words hang in the air for a heavy second until you realize what you’ve laid on the table.

Joel loves Ellie. That much is known.

You love Ellie. That much was known, too.

When he speaks again, Joel is the one who sounds choked. "You couldn't love me if you tried. You couldn't love anything." It pulls your gaze back to him. “Not about me. Ain’t nothing about me worth lovin’.” He shakes his head, and his hand is gone from your neck, leaving only the cold ghost of it in the process.

You couldn’t love me.

It’s your turn to laugh.

"That's not true."

He paused, and you saw his Addam's apple bobbing before he shakes his head, still in disbelief.

“You know what I did. More than anyone I’ve met before. You know there’s nothing here to love.”

“That’s your excuse?”

“It’s the fuckin’ truth,” Joel’s starting to sound on the verge of tears, and your eyes glue to his face.

“Joel, I don’t know what was misunderstood in my little nod and silence when you shared all those things about your past that night, but let me make something clear to you—I know the difference.” Joel’s frown between hsi brown deepens, but his eyes remain on yours. “You think I don’t? Don’t you ever condescend me to the point of thinking I don’t know the different between what’s rotten and what’s not in this world.”

Not saying ‘between what’s good and bad’ is a deliberate choice, and it keeps Joel’s attention hooked.

Somehow, you know this is your only chance, so you forego all thinking and just allow all your feelings for him to pour out of your pores and slip through your lips.

“I heard all you told me and I don’t give a fuck about what you did when dissassociating out of your mind. What you did to survive, or what you did ‘cause you saw all the real rotten all around. When you say shit like ‘ain’t nothin’ about me worth living’ you put yourself in the same sack as people like that fucker David or other people who really are rotten. Who did and are horrible outta pleasure. Outta desire for it. And that is not you.”

If you could reach to him, this was when.

You lean forward, making the distance between you both smaller.

This time, you cup his neck.

“And let me make this crystal clear ‘cause apparently it wasn’t. That last thing you did? To save her?” You breathe deeply. “If it was me in your place, I would’ve done the exact fucking same. A room full of wannabe scientists and a bunch of equipment from god knows when, swearing that killing the only person who’s apparently immue is gonna solve something?” You scoff. “Joel, I would’ve burned that building to the ground with everyone in it.”

"You…"

The words never come to him.

Instead, what comes forward is Joel.

Something in your speech breaks the dem that you had no idea existed, and Joel floods towards you.

Crashing his lips against yours, he devours.

His kiss demands a surrender because it delivers things he never gave you before. Joel holds onto your face like a lifeline, groaning against your mouth and lifting both of your bodies to press you closer to him, suddenly desperate. Suddenly devout, and it spills from his eyes.

When Joel pulls back to look at you, there’s a fright and a hope in them that makes you realize why he turned around. Why he kept his distance.

Joel thought you could never get him. Not truly, and not personally.

“You…” he whispers, lips still touching yours. His eyes are saying so much that words evaded him. “I…” Joel swallows so thickly that you hear it this time, and it draws a whimper from you.

“I know, Joel,” you whine, pulling him in for another kiss.I know you could. That maybe now you’ll allow yourself to, all your kisses say. I already do. I already do.

🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeiaaa — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ* . join my Fireplace celebration. *

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extasiswings · 3 months

Text

Idk what this is but those new stills hurt all three of my feelings so have some angst.

“I don’t understand what happened to us. I don’t understand what changed,” Buck says, and Eddie freezes.

Because he knows. He knows exactly. Every big moment they’ve shared, the beautiful and the terrible, and all of the little ones in between exist in the back of his mind in one giant tapestry of memory. A pulsing, bleeding heart of a thing that he tries not to look at too closely because the fact that it is always there, so close to the surface, never letting him out of its thrall is sometimes more than he can bear.

It’s been years. Eddie’s gotten very used to being in love with Buck. Quietly, achingly in love with Buck, knowing he can’t have him but not being able to stop. Loving Buck doesn’t feel like a choice, it’s just a fact of his existence, rooted so deep and taking up so much space that Eddie can hardly recall being without it, the person he was before—before Buck, before LA and the 118, before tsunamis and shootings and lightning strikes. There are days when loving Buck overwhelms. When he can hardly breathe for the all-consuming nature of it. When the want is so fierce that he can taste it on his tongue. Most of the time though, it’s manageable. Like a radio on in the background, volume low enough that Eddie can ignore it. He can be almost clinical about it: fact—he is in love with Buck, fact—Buck is never going to love him back. It’s been years, so Eddie knows exactly how to handle these inconvenient truths, knows how to handle himself, has gotten used to them. He never expected anything to change, assumed that nothing could surprise him after so long.

But. Buck stood next to him in a cemetery and started talking about a woman he had only just met—a stranger—seeing him, understanding him like no one else, and Eddie—

Something in him broke. Some fragile bit of hope he hadn’t even realized he was harboring shattered, the shards slicing him to bloody ribbons.

And all he could really think was, Enough. Enough now.

Things changed then. He’s changed. Their relationship has changed. And he’s been telling himself that’s a good thing. It’s good, necessary even.

But Eddie doesn’t know how to deal with this. He doesn’t know what to say when Buck is sitting in front of him asking about it point blank while looking like a kicked puppy.

Part of him is angry. He resents being in this position, resents how long it’s taken Buck to say anything, resents knowing he can’t explain himself without revealing things he never wanted to. Mostly though, he resents the fact that after months of work—drawing a line in the sand and dating someone else, pulling away in an effort to establish real boundaries that might let him move on—he is still as much in love with Buck as ever.

Mostly though, he’s just tired.

“We’re still friends, Buck,” Eddie finally manages to say. “That hasn’t changed.”

“But something is different,” Buck insists. “If—you would tell me if I did something, wouldn’t you?”

Eddie drags a hand over his face, resisting the urge to touch his chest where a dull ache has bloomed behind his sternum.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he replies. It’s not an answer, not to the question Buck actually asked, but it’s as much of one as Eddie thinks he can give. And it’s the truth—Buck hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s not a crime not to love someone.

“But—”

“Buck.” Eddie’s tone snaps, raw and sharp and jagged. It sounds foreign to his own ears, an unacceptable loss of control, but he is fraying badly at the seams and needs out of this conversation.

A stricken look crosses Buck’s face, and Eddie forces his voice to gentle as he quietly adds, “Please.”

Please drop it. Please don’t push. Please don’t pull this thread.

Please let me go. Just let me go. Please.

Silence stretches between them for a long moment as Buck’s eyes scan Eddie’s face. But finally, as if he heard all the different things packed into that one syllable, Buck nods once.

“Okay.”

#chapel writes #911 spoilers #buddie

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navybrat817 · 11 months

Note

Navy, Navy, Navy! The most wonderful person to grace this app!🫶🏻

This totally gives off Florist Bucky&Petal vibes🥹🥹

https://www.facebook.com/reel/130668179932929?s=yWDuG2&fs=e

Most wonderful person to grace this app, nonnie? I'm not, but you are too kind and I appreciate that. Hope you enjoy this fun size fic.

Aroma

Pairing: Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky adores domestic moments with you. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Sugary sweet fluff and love, established relationship, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) Graphics talent and thanks: Divider by @firefly-graphics. Moodboard and header by yours truly. A/N: A little for something for my favorite florist for this sweet nonnie.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The second Bucky's alarm rang out in the bedroom, he reached over to shut it off. Not because he wasn't ready to get up, but because he didn't want to disturb your sleep. You still had time before you needed to get ready for the day and he wasn't going to wake you if he didn't have to. Even though he had to get up, he took a minute to hold you closer against his chest.

Breathing you in feels like home.

He hadn't expected to become such a cuddler, a bit afraid in the beginning because of his metal arm, but dating you changed that. More often than not he found excuses to hold you and you never seemed to mind. Feeling your soft frame against him, along with your sweet scent, constantly brought him a sense of peace. It reminded him of being in his shop surrounded by warmth, beauty, and brightness.

My beautiful Petal.

You let out a tiny moan when he rubbed his nose against your neck, smiling to himself when your heart raced faster in your sleep. As much as he wanted to keep you in his embrace, he had an early day at the shop and had to get moving. Placing a tender kiss over your pulse, he carefully tucked the blanket around you as he grudgingly slipped out of bed. He brought his clothes to the bathroom, too, so he wouldn't have to turn on the light and risk waking you.

He did his best to be a thoughtful boyfriend.

Brushing his teeth and taking a quick shower, he reflected on the domesticity of your relationship and how much he loved it. After you cooked dinner together the night before, the blend of spices and herbs lingering in the air, he suggested a documentary he wanted to catch up on. About halfway through, curled up against him under one of your soft blankets, you fell asleep. Instead of turning the television off when he noticed, he took a minute to watch the colors from the screen move along your beautiful face. Once he finally brought you to bed, in just his shirt, he swore he saw you smile sadly in the darkness as you snuggled against him once again.

"Did I miss it?" you asked, cracking an eye open.

"You made it halfway through," he replied, hoping you didn't feel bad for needing sleep.

"Sorry I crashed," you said with a slight pout, confirming his thoughts. "I know you wanted to watch it."

"It's okay," he assured you with a kiss to your forehead. "We can finish it another time."

It didn't matter that you didn't stay awake for it. What meant the most was that you wanted to watch it in the first place because of him. A normal night, seemingly insignificant, but the little things like that shined just as bright as the major moments.

After brushing out his hair and getting dressed, he smiled as he saw the half full bottle of cologne on his side of the sink. He needed to spritz a shirt for you before he left. Grabbing it, he expected you to still be in bed once he left the bathroom. What he found was an empty room and an open door. Frowning as he set the bottle on the nightstand, he heard light footsteps in the kitchen and wondered why you were awake. Did he wake you up? He tried not to make any noise.

The familiar aroma from his favorite coffee greeted him as he left the room and he had to stop to take in the sight of you. Still wearing his shirt and slippers on your feet, you set his to-go mug on the counter and poured him a drink with a yawn. You were likely still half asleep, if he had to guess from your slumped shoulders, and it took a lot of willpower not to drag you back to bed to tuck you in. Breathing a deep sigh, he wondered how you managed to always look so stunning.

“Morning,” you yawned again when you caught him staring.

"Morning," he smiled as he joined you, pulling you into his arms. "Did I wake you?"

"No. You were nice and quiet," you mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder. "Made you coffee."

“I can see that and I appreciate that, but why aren’t you in bed?” he asked when you reached up to play with his hair.

“Just wanted to do something nice because I love you," you said, lifting your head to brush your lips against his. His heart swelled as he kissed you back and he wondered if you knew how much the moment meant to him. "Hope that's okay."

Tempted to drop down on one knee and propose then and there, he stopped himself. He had a plan and wanted to stick to it. “More than okay. Thank you."

I love you, too.

Taking your hand, he pulled you back to the bedroom. "We having a quickie?" you teased.

He chuckled as he grabbed the cologne and sprayed the air directly in front of you, watching your eyes briefly light up from the smell. "Just a spritz as much as you're tempting me. Back to bed."

Not having to be told twice, you ungracefully collapsed on the mattress with a huff.

Adorable and you're somehow mine.

"Have a good day, okay?" you murmured, resting your hand on his pillow.

Bucky fell in love all over again as he bent down to give you one more kiss. How long had he dreamt of finding someone like you? A caring partner who stopped by his shop to bring him food after a long day. Someone who supported his drive to continuously learn, like researching what it would be like to become a dad. And didn't mind getting up early just to see him off for the day.

"I'll have the best day now with the best cup of coffee from the best girl I know," he promised.

And he hoped you had the best day, too.

Our man is so in love! Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #florist!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #florist!bucky barnes #florist and petal #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #florist au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x female!reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

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writingstoraes · 10 months

Text

sparks 🎇

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: written imagine (fluff)

word count: 1.7k, no warnings hehe

notes: once again this is a new idea even though i have a ton of drafts like my mind is a mess so i am not surprised ANYWAY . trying to get out of a writing slump so lmk what u guys think! ALSO apologies for any typos or grammatical errors this is not proofread at all 😆

about: The few of the many times Charles’ heart skipped a beat because of you.

Movies have always portrayed “real” sparks so well. Sometimes it’s a scene where a guy sees the girl for the very first time during a first date and he freezes for a moment, the apparent electricity between two people when their hands almost touch and they panic for a little while, or the moment of suspense before a first kiss and the exhilaration after.

But Charles taught that was exactly what they were - movie scenes. He lingered on the thought that the moments where sparks flew and one’s heart skips a beat, those moments cannot be manufactured in real life. They stay in movies, books, in the arts; where they belong, somewhere where they were fiction.

Not until he experiences it first-hand, not until he meets you, the woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand.

He felt it the first time your hands ever touched.

At first, he thought he was going crazy. There was no way he felt a current run through his skin the moment it came in contact with yours, but to this day, it’s a testament he swears on very seriously.

You had been going out for a few weeks, several dates here and there. It was the exact point where you felt comfortable with each other, but only starting to be, hence why there were still evident boundaries present. The two of you were careful to not cross any, especially Charles. He’s cautious on establishing any physical touch, sure, he’s held your waist to guide you through bustling crowds and had slung his arm over your shoulder, but he hasn’t held your hand. At least, not yet.

He had invited you to have dinner on his yacht, set at the perfect time where you can be of witness to the beautiful sunset over the sea. He says the food was nearly done, so he set up two comfortable chairs that gave you just the perfect view of the Monaco skies. The sun was setting and the golden sky formed a beautiful gradient with the blue hue that painted it beforehand.

He turns his head to you, your arm resting on the chair’s handles, a tad bit preoccupied with the view in front of you. He keeps a smile to himself, enjoying the personalized view he had. For some reason, he feels the urge to hold your hand, or at least rest his on top of yours. He was hesitating and second-guessing, lifting his finger once in a while and then putting it back down when he decides not to push through. It didn’t help that there were minimal distance between your chair and his, and so he was fighting the urge to initiate contact and have you flee off.

But his hesitant hand that kept on moving was something you grew to notice, and thanks to your knowledge of many, many romance movies, you assumed it meant he wanted to hold your hand but was too afraid to do it. You shove the thought of doing it first in the back of your head, overthinking that you might be wrong and he in fact did not want to hold your hand.

Maybe it was something in the air, the quiet waves of the ocean, or just the fact that he really really liked you.

He finally lifts his hand so he can reach yours, resting it softly on top of your hand. He lets out a relieved and contented sigh when he feels you ease into his touch. His heart raced faster, like it was screaming for help and begging to be let out of his chest.

As if that was not enough, he feels a current run through his arm and out of his fingertips the moment you grasp his hand and decide to interlock your fingers with his then setting it on top of the chair’s handle. He swears he saw fireworks when he closed his eyes and his heart finally exploded out of his chest. He vows he can stand up and jump around out of joy, but he chooses to indulge in the moment and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze instead.

He had met you earlier in the season and he would be lying if he said he didn’t want you to see him in his element, doing what truly made him happy. That is, if his team does not proceed to ruin the entire weekend for him and his dedicated fans.

He invited you to watch a grand prix, in a track that he felt most comfortable. He was the perfect gentleman whe he extended the invite, letting you know you could always decline if you didn’t feel like going. You were together, in all terms to be considered, but he didn’t want to pressure you into finally making your appearance only because he knew how harsh it could get. He assures you that he will take care of everything and all you needed to do was come.

You were committed to attend the entire weekend, from free practice until the race itself. Even if Charles was quick to reassure you that you didn’t have to be there for everything, you only return a smile and tell him you wanted to be, which not surprisingly calmed his nerves.

You knew people were going to stare, fans will take pictures, even the possibility of you making headlines. This was your first paddock appearance as his girlfriend, after all. It was inevitable, so you try to take your mind off of the pressure. Much to your nerves bothering you before you even got on the plane, you had been racking your brain on what to wear. You didn’t want to seem like you were trying too hard or too little.

You finally settle on an outfit and your lips form a small smile as you looked in the mirror. It was nothing extravagant, only a black one-shoulder top and a black high-waisted pants that you paired with a red leather jacket. It’s not like you wanted what you wore to scream Ferrari, but you wanted to add a little touch, at least for Charles.

“What do you think? I chose the red jacket for you,” you turn around to see Charles, seeing as you heard his footsteps earlier and knew he entered the room.

If he was being honest, he had seen you put on the outfit. He witnessed how you cocked your head to the side trying to see if it looks good. He sees the outfits laid on the bed, all with a touch of red, and he could feel butterflies swarm his stomach at the thought of you carefully planning out your outfits to include his team’s colors.

There it was again, the stupid sparks that he’s been getting ever since he met you. He curses himself for being a little non-functional when feels them, but he figures he has to get used to being blown away by everything you did. It feels magnetic, like he’s feeling actual static. You make him feel so much by just doing so little.

He sees you twirling around in front of the mirror, smiling when you finally put on the red leather jacket, looking satisfied.

He stops at his tracks, at least internally, and fails to respond for at least 10 seconds.

“Do you not like it? I can always go change-”

“No,” he says, almost out of voice. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

Where he was standing, he swears he sees fireworks erupt behind you.

Charles stands on the podium, feeling victorious and ecstatic he had clinched another win for his Formula 1 career. He looks fondly at the sea of crowd cheering for him, waving flags of his own country, Ferrari, and Italy. From where he stood he could see Fred’s big smile and the engineers celebrating, jumping up and down.

The trophies had been awarded and the Monaco national anthem had finally played. He was wearing his Pirelli cap and completely drenched in champagne. He scans the crowd down the podium, hoping to get a glance of you. Earlier, he did tell you you didn’t have to witness the awarding personally should he win, because he didn’t want you to get in between many people and possibly get shoved or pushed. He assumes that you were in the garage, waiting for him, probably with a kiss and a hug.

He leans over the makeshift railing of the stage, eyes still set on possibly sighting you. When he fails to find you, he finally comes down and there he sees you, just near the stairs going up to the podium with teary eyes and a wide smile. There you stood with hands clasped together, in awe of Charles who was standing in front of you.

He feels his heart race yet again, having experienced the first time you ever greeted him after he claims P1 in a race. Even just by looking at you he feels his world shift, like its only goal was to pull him towards you, like the fireworks that took the skies earlier weren’t enough and he was having his own show.

He jogs towards you, exhilirated and filled with adrenaline and pulls you into a tight embrace. His entire body twitches when you plant a soft kiss on his cheek, as if every fiber of his being had turned into putty at your touch. Everytime you engulf him in an embrace, kiss his cheek, or run your hands through his hair, he feels as if he’s inside his car going at least 320 kilometers per hour. He has no clue how you do it, how you possibly make him feel like he’s won a race every time he was with you; as if you and his heart had a binding agreement.

“Congratulations, mon champion du monde,” you say slowly and close to Charles so only he could hear, hoping you didn’t mess up the pronunciation, after having practiced it several times on the plane.

Something tugs at his heartstrings, having been greeted by the knowledge that you sent out his well wishes in French, even though you didn’t speak the language and mentioned you were always scared you were going to say something wrong. But mostly because you called him your world champion, and that just sends him down a spiral.

“Thanks for being here, amour.” he replies, pulling you in again for another hug.

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

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: thanks for reading everyone <3 will try to post a 1.4k special soon but firstly thank u so much for all the love hehehe hope u guys r having the nicest day!

#writtenbyrae #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc one shot

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fabricated-misslieness · 10 months

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: pavitr prabhakar x gn spider reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: pavitr was a touchy guy, you know this firsthand.

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 852 ~ established relationship

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: a lot of kissing and hugging

All Pavitr has wanted for months was to be with you. Maybe it was because you'd only just started dating, but it felt like could never have enough of you. He yearned for your kisses, sought out your hugs, and melted at your praise. There was nothing more he wanted.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There should probably not be two spider-men in your universe, regularly that is. It was your universe, after all, but that didn't stop him from popping over for a visit.

The people of New York would ask who he was and why he only seemed to work part-time forever, but he didn't care for it. Also why you would work so much slower, even when there were two of you; and to that, there was only one answer.

"Pavitr..."

"What?" He groans.

"Police sirens." Ah, a rude awakening announced aloud by your angelic voice.

"Just a couple more minutes." Pavitr pleads, stuffing his head into the crook of your neck.

When you move your hands away from him, Pavitr yanks them back and holds on tight. He was being stubborn, even when New York was potentially in danger. "If I yanked us over the edge of this rooftop right now..."

"You wouldn't dare hurt your beloved."

"That may be true, but–" Pavitr's laugh interrupting you meant that argument was definitely over, so you began anew, "If I kissed you, would you let me go save New York?"

"Hmm.." Pavitr pulled away only to weigh his decisions, although he only knew there was really only one choice. At least he got a kiss out of it. "Okay."

It seemed your city was at the mercy of Pavitr's whim.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

PDA feared Pavitr. It was true. Nothing could stop him.

As the Spider-person before you exchanges stories with you, Pavitr waltzes over to wrap his entire being around you. Whilst you continue to speak casually–it was a normal, frequent occurrence–the other Spider-person halts in her conversation.

"Hey, I think you've got a spider on you."

You chuckle at her joke, "Don't worry about him. He's non-venomous."

Pavitr grumbles about how it feels offensive, something about feeling weak, but he's not helping it by staying curled around you. If the Spider-person before you weren't there, he'd have probably tried to climb into your arms.

Another time you're just eating in the cafeteria. A lot of spiders had different timezones, so at any given time, no one table was empty.

You were sharing one with spiders whose names you couldn't quite place when Pavitr plops himself down next to you and plants a kiss on your cheek.

His tray holds a single apple, but you didn't really think about it. Lunch was one or two hours ago in Mumbattan.

Throughout the meal, however, he keeps kissing you, and kissing you, and kissing you; on the cheek, of course, he wasn't evil.

"I think that's enough, Pavitr."

"You really think so? You say so? I wouldn't say so." His words come out fast, like a rollercoaster, just so he can kiss you again just as quick.

"I really do think so."

"I beg to differ."

You wrap an arm around him to feed his insatiable need to touch you all the time, even if it costs you your dominant hand, and spare the spider-people around you.

Thankfully, he seems pleased with just that.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Was he too annoying? Nah, he couldn't be. You loved him at least as much as he did you. Probably.

Pavitr was usually sure about everything. He was sure that he could protect his city, that he was good at being Spider-Man, that he had good friends. He was even sure about things of the future. He could do anything he set his mind to.

He just wasn't too sure about you. He wasn't being annoying to his friends, but he could be annoying to you.

The blissful ignorance was no longer a novelty.

He stopped being so clingy, although he got as much physical touch as he needed to get going. It was better to be safe than sorry, after all.

What he didn't account for, however, was that it was really easy to notice his withdrawal from physical touch.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Pavitr, right now, seemed to be glowing more than usual. He was so much happier being in your arms than he would've, say, a week ago. He was giving you much less physical affection, and it certainly wasn't a welcome change.

"Pavitr?"

"Hmm?"

"I miss your kisses," Pavitr perks up in your hold. "and your hugs. You've been kissing me less and less. Is everything okay?"

He turns around to look you in the eye, an unintended pout on his lips. "I thought I was annoying you."

"Aw no, Pavitr, you've been perfectly fine. The other spiders don't really seem to care and I–well," You chuckle, "I really like your touch."

Pavitr lights up. He snuggles closer to you, letting out laughs in relief. "I like yours too," He pauses, realizing, "obviously."

"Obviously..."

"Okay, when you say it–"

"Hahaha."

"What??"

Clingy wasn't so bad. Not when it made your ray of sunshine so happy.

#pavitr x reader #pavitr x gn reader #spider-man x reader #spider-man x gn reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar x gn reader #🌸 // success!#💞 // darlings #🎟 // atsv #🎫 // pavitr #🎫 // pavitr prabhakar #🎟 // spider-verse

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iheartuwu · 3 months

Text

₊˚ ♡ random relationship hc’s ◞ leon s. kennedy

fem!reader, fluff, angst, established relationship, implied age gap for like one or two hc’s, wrote these in an id leon brainrot fueled spur lmfao so mostly for an older leon ig !? would love to expand on some of these in a fic, wc 0.6k ╮

gift giving is definitely one of his strongest love languages, however he’s not one for grand gestures or overtly romantic gifts. his gifts are practical, thoughtful, consistent reminders that he’s always thinking of you because he’s never been good with words. he prefers to not be present when you receive them and he’s SO deliberately discreet about it too. subtly replacing your skincare or fav products that are running out with brand new ones, delving into his mental notes of what you’re running low on when he’s at a shop. scheduling food or flower deliveries for when he’s away on a mission or work related tasks. any praise would probably make his skin crawl because he just can’t handle it

terms of endearment feel unnatural to him and rarely fall past his lips unless you seem to react positively to them. i don’t see him as someone who’s that experienced in committed long term relationships ( or relationships in general ) due to the nature of his work and lifestyle. he defaults to ‘babe’ until he learns which terms you prefer / dislike

leon would never accept your offers or attempts to pay for a thing ( i swear by this ). this doesn’t come from a place of arrogance or urge to fulfill some ‘traditionally’ masculine role. his disposable income is plentiful, and he’s happy to pay when the opportunity arises, he honestly doesn’t even think about it and merely hands over his credit card. receiving gifts can often be hard for him but he’ll never purposely display his discomfort or refuse

extremely dry texter and doesn’t really use his phone despite being tech savvy, all of his texts end with periods. rarely ever uses emojis ( his personal favs are 👍👎 and the occasional ❤️ ). typically one word responses. doesn’t understand half of the abbreviations you use. send him a keyboard smash and he’ll think you’re having a stroke. prefers to call you instead

always the driver ( he insists on it ). always has the seat warmer on for you. if you do drive he becomes a backseat driver which can be mildly frustrating. comments on your song choices when you play music in his car but would never tell you to stop no matter how grating it is on his ears and simply endures. sometimes opts for his motorcycle over his car solely because he gets to be held onto by you. would literally never let you even fathom the idea of driving his motorcycle

frequent date nights at borderline obnoxiously ritzy restaurants to compensate for his time spent away from you due to his job. also bc this man cannot cook. does not let you know in advance. he simply says “we have a reservation tonight” like an hour before which often results in you scrambling to get ready

he struggles with sharing his ( darker ) emotions, accompanied by a habit of opting to brush your concerns off. vulnerability is a foreign language to him. he’s scarily good at pretending he is fine, but you manage to see glimpses of his deteriorating wellbeing in his body language. the heavy sighs upon waking up, his slight recoil from your touch, his posture stiffening after you ask him what’s on his mind. this doesn’t come from a place of distrust in any way, he truly just doesn’t want to ‘burden’ you and convinces himself that his struggles aren’t important in the grand scheme of things. he also knows the source of his stress and trauma is for the most part confidential and he tells himself he’s doing it for your own safety and protection. when he does open up by his own volition, he keeps it brief, spares most of the details, his composure rarely falters and he’s itching to move on from the subject. you’ve never seen him cry :(

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #i could go on and on about him fr

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sweetteaanddragons · 5 months

Text

Happy Thanksgiving! In celebration, have an awkward family dinner scene from my current WIP.

“You know,” Earwen said, taking a careful sip of her wine, “you could petition the Valar.”

This was not a new concept. It had not been tried recently, but Nerdanel still had to pause in her meal for a moment to poke at just why Earwen was presenting it so cautiously.

“On what grounds?” She had certainly tried everything she could think of.

“Precedence, mainly. It is not so different from the case of Finwe and Miriel.”

Arafinwe sat with his fork half frozen between his plate and his mouth. Nerdanel felt half frozen herself, trying to understand. How could the statute of Finwe and Miriel possibly be similar to her own case?

“I know you might not have anyone in mind now,” Earwen continued, “but it might help to already have your right established.”

Her right. Her right to -

To do what everyone had been so insistent she do.

Get up.

Smile.

Move on.

She could get up. She could smile. She could - move.

But to move on? To take someone else in his place?

She was furious with him. Incandescently so. She wanted to claw out those clever, unsatisfied eyes. She wanted to bite out his beautiful, poisonous tongue. She wanted to pour molten rock over him and let it settle around him until he could never move from its confines again.

But to move on? To take someone else?

She imagined someone coming to Feanaro after his vaults had been torn open and telling him it was alright, really, that the Silmarils were gone; look, they had all these pieces of lovely shattered glass, and he was welcome to take his pick between them.

“I could remarry, you mean,” she said, and Feanaro would have known that just because her voice was still, it did not mean she said it calmly. “Have children again, even.”

“If you liked,” Earwen said, though her own voice was careful now.

Nerdanel sipped her wine. “I do not know why you do not take your own advice. You would not even have to appeal to the Valar for it; no one would have the slightest right to object to you and Arafinwe having another child. Then it wouldn’t matter that Aegnor is never going to come out of the Halls.”

Earwen’s face went white.

“Excuse me,” Nerdanel said and left.

. . .

She was already packed by the time Arafinwe came to her room. She had steadied by then, though not calmed.

“She meant well, and I did not,” she conceded without looking up from securing the last of her things. “I won’t trouble you till I’ve thought up a proper apology.”

Everyone remembered that she had fought with Feanaro. No one ever seemed to remember that if it had just been Feanaro raging, it would not have been a fight.

“Please don’t leave,” Arafinwe said wearily, leaning against the door. “We’ve had quite enough of that.”

“It’s what I do,” she said shortly. Hear something horrible. Say something horrible. Leave.

Not come back until it was too late, and he had already sworn that stupid Oath.

He scrubbed a hand across his face. “As your apology to me,” he clarified, “please at least wait until morning.”

She paused.

He looked so very tired.

“Alright,” she conceded. She sank down on top of her bags. “Do you think I should move on?”

It was poking at a bruise for no good reason. Her answer wouldn’t change for him.

But she wanted to know just how long she should take to come up with an apology.

“I have no right to tell you how to handle your personal affairs,” he said, and for a moment, he sounded like her king, gracefully holding himself to the limits of his power.

She scowled at him.

“No right,” he repeated. “And if you want to - to never make another statue of him and run off to join the choir in Alqualonde, I will be the last to tell you otherwise.”

“But?”

“But if you came back and told me you wished to remarry, I think I would offer you the crown of the Noldor not to,” he admitted. “As much as he would laugh to hear one of my mother’s children speak against it. Right now it is only the verdict of the Valar that he may never return, and the Valar have changed their minds before. If we should lock that door forever . . . “

It was probably immaterial anyway. The Valar had needed Miriel’s permission to allow Finwe’s remarriage; Feanaro, surely, would not give it.

Surely. Surely she still meant more to him than that.

She did not wish to bare that corner of her soul tonight, not even to Arafinwe. Instead, she confessed to an easier thing.

“When I was pregnant with the twins,” she said, staring at the ceiling, “it was - difficult. More difficult than any of the other births had been. I had half lost myself by the end.”

“I remember,” he said softly.

That surprised her; she did not remember him from then at all, but she supposed that only supported her point. “I was convinced I was going to die, and I was in no state to think clearly about it. I swore to him over and over that I would come back, that the very moment Namo allowed it I would come back, that he would not need to be patient long.”

Some irrational part of her had been terrified that they would lie to him; that they would say she had refused the call of life while she was desperately pounding on Mandos’s walls.

When she had been saner, she had known the fearful fancies for what they were. But in the midst of them . . .

“He kept promising that I wasn’t going to die, of course.” And he had been right about that, though it was the only one of their arguments that she would concede now. “But when that didn’t settle me, he told me that he believed me, and that if it took me a hundred thousand years to return, he would believe me still and wait.”

She had never doubted that promise. Even when they had burned everything else between them, she had believed that promise. In their worst moments, it had been because she was sure he would never concede any ground whatsoever to Indis’s marriage, but she had still believed it.

She hadn’t returned the promise. She hadn’t thought she would need to.

But now here she was, still standing, and the Valar promising that he would never, ever return.

It was not yet a hundred thousand years.

And when it had been, she would keep his promise in his stead and still wait.

#silmarillion #fic #nerdanel #finarfin #earwen #nerdanel is not perfect #nerdanel is not happy with feanor #but she hasn't given up on him #part of a prequel to Memento Pugna but can stand alone

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