#but that ending up addicted to something is a lot easier than you think

[byunpum]

Safe Heaven | Part 2

Pair: Neteyam x Human!reader (sully family, others na'vi)

Warning: 18+ (some smut...a little) Neytiri being a bit(a lot) controlling, forced pairing, cozy moments, comfort moments, All characters are adults.

Note: I promise you that the third part will not be as late as this second part. Still…I hope you enjoy this part.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Ko-fi

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4[final]

That night was too cold for your taste, if you had known you were going to sleep in your secret place you would have brought a blanket. But the warm body heat that neteyam's body gave off was very warm, you had snuggled more on his chest, feeling how his arms wrapped around you completely. You had gotten up as soon as the sun started to rise, but you decided to stay still and enjoy this moment. Feeling neteyam's calm breathing, and breathing in his scent. This man had such an addictive natural scent, you could only think how addictive it had to be for the female na'vi. If you were a human you could smell him, you didn't want to know what the female na'vi who had a sharper sense of smell smelled like. Sometimes you didn't understand what neteyam saw in you…just sometimes you didn't understand.

You feel his arms tighten, and he starts yawning. "Baby…" says neteyam sleepily, looking down to see you curled up on his chest. "Good morning…did you rest well?" you can see neteyam laugh out loud, of course not. The airplane chair wasn't comfortable, but you knew he wasn't going to say he slept uncomfortably. He preferred this more than anything. "Well…I'd prefer to sleep on top of a rock," Neteyam speaks, listening as you now laugh. Lifting you off his chest, lowering you to the ground to stretch, behind you was a sore neteyam. You are thankful that he had endured a whole night of discomfort for you. You move behind him, and since he was sitting it was much easier for you to stroke his back, and begin to massage him. "You are so tense teyam" you reach over and give him a quick kiss on his skin. You can hear him humming, and relaxing into your touch.

You didn't want this moment to end, but it was getting late. You were supposed to be in your respective homes, you were practically on the run. "And what are you going to tell your mom?" you ask, pausing to wait for an answer from neteyam. He looks at you, and lifts his shoulders. "And you?" neteyam asks you. "I don't know… I'll say I was with kiri" you watch as a smile tugs at neteyam's lips. Kiri didn't know anything about your relationship, but she didn't mind being an accomplice in your adventures. She will always be there for you. After getting ready, before leaving the plane, Neteyam gets off the plane. Neteyam comes down to you, giving you a quick kiss. "I want to see you later? Yes?" says Neteyam between kisses, you push him away a little. "Go away…otherwise they will kill you" you were all giggles, while he continued to kiss you all over your face. You ended up pushing him away seeing how he was running away, it was getting a little late. He was supposed to come home and lay in the hammock and make it late at night. But it was already too late for that. On the other hand, you turn everything off…pick up everything you had to take with you and start walking to the lab.

On the other hand… neytiri practically didn't sleep all night, she realized that her son never arrived. Sure, neteyam was a man now…and he had his own life. But she wanted to know who he was with, he liked leeka?. She had barely spoken to him…plus she suspected something was going on. Neteyam was not one to do this, he was a well-behaved boy. The whole family was up, and they were eating together. Noticing Neteyam arrive, he looked a little agitated as if he were running. Stopping for a moment at the entrance, watching as his family looked at him curiously. "Good…morning" neteyam says, coming over to sit next to his brother. Carefully taking his portion of breakfast, he dared not speak, as he felt his mother's piercing gaze. "Good morning son…hey where did you spend the night?" asks jake, but it was not in a tone of authority but one of forming a conversation and breaking the ice. "I was standing guard" says neteyam, chewing his fruit. "Oh… was it calm?" asks jake, looking at his son noting that he was a little nervous, neteyam just nodded his head.

But this didn't convince neytiri, she knew something was up with her son. "Teyam… why did you leave leeka alone last night, that was very rude of you" speaks neytiri. Kiri, tuk and lo'ak look quickly at their brother, as if he was in big trouble. And yes he was… because he didn't really have a clear answer to tell his mother. He just didn't like leeka, and he had no business talking to her if he wasn't interested. "Ahh I had to leave, because I remembered I had guard duty" says neteyam, swallowing hard, hoping neytiri won't pursue the subject. "mmm and what do you think of that girl?" asks neytiri. "Ahh she's…fine" says neteyam. Feeling his brother push him a little "'fine? Are you kidding?" lo'ak almost gives him a fit, leeka was the most counted na'vi of the clan.

And he was rejecting her. "you should get to know her better" says neytiri, jake was getting tired of this conversation, it was very clear that neteyam didn't want to talk about this topic. "Ok… it's too early for these topics, why don't we just eat and spend this time as a family" says jake, giving neytiri a look. She just rolled her eyes, she knew that jake didn't really care who her son was hanging out with. After he was safe was more than enough for him.

But for neytiri, this was a cultural thing…something that had been passed down from generation to generation. She didn't want neteyam to make a mistake. After breakfast, all the family members began to divide into their daily chores. Neteyam was about to leave, just when neytiri called out to him. "Neteyam?" neytiri approaches her son, it was just the two of them so it was the perfect time to talk to him. "Honey… I don't want to burden you with this stuff. But the mating season is coming up and I just want to…" neytiri speaks, watching as her son begins to shift uncomfortably. Neytiri did not understand the disdain her son had on this subject. "Mama I have a lot of things to do" neteyam says, taking up his weapons. "Neteyam I wish you would choose a mate who will give you the position that belongs to you…just that" says neytiri, watching as neteyam only answers her with a 'hmmm' and walks out of the hut. Leaving a more worried neytiri. Besides knowing that her son was lying, she could detest a different scent…a scent that was attached to her son's skin. It was feminine…but which one was the na'vi girl? Who? She had to act fast, she had to have a second plan.

In the lab… You had arrived a little late, you had gone back to the plane to look for other things. And you stopped on the way when you met mo'at. She told you to stop by her hut, she wanted to show you some things. Mo'at understood that there was something wrong with you, and that you were in a hurry. But she didn't want to ask too much, eventually you were going to tell her what was wrong. You had always been like that… saying goodbye to her. To run to the lab, finding it empty. "uhhh I'm safe!!!" you cheer a little, you didn't have to lighten up with awkward questions. But you weren't expecting your favorite intruder. "Safe from what or who?" asks spider, making you jump a little. He had been sitting in the back all this time. " Nothing…just ahhhh where's norm?" you ask, watching as spider chuckles a little. He knew you had done something. You and spider had grown up together, you were practically like brothers, so he already knew when you were lying. "He's sleeping…but the real question here is…where did you sleep last night?" asks spider, approaching you. You nudge him, sometimes it could be very annoying. "I was with kiri" you speak, turning away from him and starting on your way to your room. You didn't really have much to do there, but it was the best place to escape from spider. Spider laughs, winking at you…he knew you were lying to him. But he didn't care where you had spent the night either, he had his suspicions but he wasn't going to say anything until he was sure. "Well… that 'kiri' smells a lot like ….neteyam" says spider, seeing you stop in your tracks. And you turn quickly signaling for silence. "Shut your mouth…you idiot!!!" you whine, ignoring him. Listening as spider laughs out loud.

Spider didn't know anything, or so you thought. Maybe he could have been suspicious, but you ignored his comments. And you go on your way, you wanted to get ready to go help mo'at. So you practically run for your materials, and run out of the lab. Running as fast as you could, you knew mo'at didn't like to wait, so you had to be there in seconds. To your bad luck, or out of pure conscience…you were so distracted running that you could barely see who was in front of you. Without realizing, you were about to crash into neytiri and leeka. Hitting your head on leeka's thigh, falling sitting down on the ground. "Hey…watch out!" the girl speaks, looking down. "Sorry" you groan, you'd taken a good punch. Neytiri reaches over, and grabs you by the forearm. Helping you to stand up.

The relationship you and Neytiri had was not great, but you knew she treated you better than spider. You always thought it was because mo'at treated you like a daughter. But you never got close to her, you barely talked to her. You had always related more to her children and jake. "Are you all right?" asks neytiri, helping you to adjust the ornaments that covered your breasts. "Yes…I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry. Mo'at is waiting for me" you speak, thanking her for helping you and running towards Mo'at's hut. Both women look at you as you walk away. "She is…strange. Well, she's a sky person so everything about her is strange" says Leeka, she had a bad look on her face. Neytiri is silent, she didn't want to comment much about you. But she did have some very respective comments about you and your relationship with her family, but she kept them to herself. "Well…as I was saying. I think you should meet neteyam one of these days?" says neytiri. The girl was a little disappointed about the night before, neteyam hadn't talked to her much and then left without saying anything.

"I think he doesn't want to talk to me" says leeka, neytiri laughs a little. But it was a more ironic smile. Touching the girl's shoulder, so that she calms down. "Sure he is… he is a little shy" neytiri says. "I'll try to talk to him…I'll ask him if he wants to go hunting with me or for a walk" says leeka, seeing how neytiri smiled approvingly. Neytiri didn't want to force anything, but she knew what she was doing. She had to support the girl. "He'll love it…I'm sure," Neytiri says. Staying quiet for a moment, she had smelled a familiar scent on you. She wanted to think it was because you were always with neteyam and his children. But this awakened an alarm in her.

You quickly arrive at the mo'at hut, seeing how the woman was already waiting for you. You excuse yourself, and sit down next to her. "Where were you?" mo'at was cutting some herbs, preparing for the demonstration she had prepared for you. "Ahh I was in the lab" you speak, nervously. "Mmm but we ran into each other earlier… so you weren't there" mo'at looks at you for a moment, noticing how your little eyes widen. She had caught you, but she wasn't going to say anything. Mo'at hands you the container she was working on. "Ok, let's get to work" Mo'at speaks, watching you settle more into your space. She had to teach you everything she knew, she had plans for you in the future. You had shown her that you could stay in charge of the medical area of the clan. The people in the clan trusted you, and little by little you were improving every day. Mo'at knew you were doing a good job, you were a very good girl. It had been a while, since morning. You were in a corner eating something, enjoying your free time. While listening to mo'at. "I hope this mating season will be successful…and many couples will come out" says mo'at.

"Yes" you speak, lowering your head. This was something you did not like to talk about. You were aware of your position, neteyam could tell you that he wanted to get away from you and choose a na'vi woman. You knew what happened every week, every week neytiri tried to match his son with different girls. They were so…perfect for him. You couldn't compete with them, you were…just you. And you had a lot of confidence in yourself…but you were aware that you and neteyam were different species. You didn't know what was going to happen. "There's no one you're interested in?" mo'at looks at you curiously. "ahh there are no boys my age here" you laugh nervously. "And spider?" mo'at asks, watching as you fall silent and then start laughing. She joins you… she knows that you and spider are like brothers. But she wanted to make you laugh. "H-hello" speaks neteyam, carefully entering the hut. "Ahh what are you doing here?" asks mo'at, examining his grandson with his eyes. He looked very well.

You get a little nervous, chuckling a little when your gaze meets neteyam's. "I came to see if you would help me…with this cut" neteyam points to his shoulder. "teyam…there's nothing there" mo'at says, watching as his grandson laughs. "Grandma…it's really annoying, I cut myself on a branch" says neteyam, sitting down on the ground. Mo'at gives you a look, causing you to laugh. "Y/N…clean neteyam's deep wound" says mo'at, you get up from the ground approaching neteyam. To sit in front of him. Taking a cream that was in one of the many bottles that mo'at had. You can see the smirk of confidence on his face. "You're bleeding to death" you joke, watching as he moves closer to you. "I just wanted to see you… it's been a long time" neteyam takes your hand, to caress it.

"It's only been a few hours" you place some medicine, moving closer to him. You two were now very close. "That's a long time….hey" neteyam whispers. You look back, glancing at mo'at. The woman was too busy at her work, so she wasn't paying attention to you. "What?" you say, while pretending you were putting in more medicine. "How about we meet at the waterfall?" neteyam asks you. "What for?" you feel neteyam's hand hold yours, pulling it closer to his chest. Lowering his head further, so that it is now closer to your ear. "To bathe together…you and me" neteyam laughs a little, watching as you place your hands on his mouth. He had to be quiet, his grandmother couldn't hear anything. Seeing mo'at still not paying attention to him. "close…touching us" speaks neteyam, a little loudly. You tell him to shut up, laughing at him.

Mo'at looks at you from afar, the scene ahead of her was interesting… the two of you were in front of each other. Your hand on neteyam's chest, he held it caressing your skin. While both of you were laughing, whispering to each other. The woman takes a deep breath, the feelings she was feeling that you two were transmitting was something that she knew would cause problems, but it was something strong. Something unavoidable, it was more than evident that the two of you were together. Mo'at turned her attention back to her work, it was best if she pretended not to see anything. She knew that when they needed her help you would talk to her. "Well…see you at sundown,ok?" neteyam waits for your reply, you nod, watching as neteyam walks over to you and gives you a quick kiss on the shoulder. You push him away, pushing him out of the hut as you two were giggling. You sit back down next to mo'at, you can feel her giving you a few glances. But you see that she doesn't speak, she doesn't seem upset. So you assume she didn't see you and doesn't suspect anything.

That same afternoon… Neteyam had finished all his chores, he was ready to go to the waterfall as he had planned with you. Today had been a good day, the only downside was the conversation he had with his mother that morning, but everything else had run smoothly. Neteyam had rushed to the family hut, leaving his hunting tools behind. Feeling more relaxed and to come find you at the lab. This meeting was important to him, being with your company was very precious. With you he could be himself, no longer the perfect son that his parents wanted him to be. Well…that his mother wanted. Neteyam was aware of his mother's plans. And he knew that in the end he had to make his decision, but at this moment he was not going to think about anything and he was going to enjoy the afternoon.

Just as he was entering the laboratory he bumped into Leeka. The girl greeted him from afar, neteyam tried not to make a bad face. He didn't want to be rude, but he didn't want to talk to her, especially knowing that she was doing what his mother asked her to do. Leeka approached him. "Hello, how are you?" the girl asks. "I'm fine…thanks" neteyam was already feeling uncomfortable, and now even more so that he was in a hurry. "Hey…I was wondering if you I…can we walk for a while" says the girl, noticing how neteyan tenses up and laughs uncomfortably. "It can be now…or whenever you want" leeka was sure neteyam would agree, he looked like a guy who wouldn't say no. "Leeka….I don't" neteyam was about to answer her, but just at that moment the door to the lab opened. "Y/N!!!" neteyam shouts a little, coming closer to you. Taking your hand quickly, pulling you closer to his side. "Is something wrong?" you are a little confused, you were going to go look for him. You weren't expecting him at the entrance, and even less so with this company.

"No…I was just waiting for you. Why don't we leave?" says Neteyam, the boy is anxious to get out of there. "Aren't we going for a walk?" leeka looks at neteyam, she still couldn't believe he was denying her request. "no….we'll talk later" neteyam drags you with him, while you look back feeling how leeka's gaze is glued to you. You decide to ignore what happened a moment ago, and focus on neteyam. The path to the waterfall was a bit far, so he ends up carrying you like a little horse on his back. Talking about anything, and enjoying the moment. When you arrive at the waterfall, neteyam puts you down. While he goes to check on the water. "Love… this water has a nice temperature" says neteyam, seeing how you were taking something out of your bag. You had been carrying a strange bag all this time. A long time ago neteyam stopped wondering what were the things you sometimes brought with you, it was a common thing with you. Always with bundles, and boxes with you. You are kneeling on the floor, your back to Neteyam. "Baby what are you doing there?" neteyam kneels behind you. Putting his head on your shoulder, you push him a little. "Wait!!!" you speak up, you wanted to show him something you had been working on for weeks.

You had been working on your new oxygen mask for weeks. And you had waited all day to show it to neteyam. Neteyam sees you take off your current mask, and gets nervous. "Baby what are you doing?" but within seconds you turn around, showing neteyam that your face was free of that annoying glass. "Taraaaa what's up?" you were very happy that it worked well, you had tried it but you still had your doubts. "This…I can't believe it, you finally finished it" neteyam kneels down to be at your height, getting closer to you. Watching carefully how everything worked, small tubes that entered through your nose and traveled behind your ear. Then connecting to your oxygen machine. Neteyam takes your face with his hands, kissing you. It was the first time he could kiss you, being in his environment. He felt needed, as if he couldn't have any more of you. "ok, what are we waiting for" neteyam gets up from the floor. You were still a little shaken by the kiss, you didn't want him to pull away from you. You move closer to him, moving to his arm to rest on his forearm. But you can see how neteyam moves away from you and starts to take off all his clothes, the bracelets.

"Hey…what are you doing?" you laugh nervously, trying to stop him by placing your hands on his waist. "We weren't going to bathe?…we have to take off our clothes. Come on," Neteyam says as if it were the most normal thing in the world. And yes it was, you were the one who had that conflict. But even so, you knew from the look neteyam was giving you that he had other plans in mind. You watch as he continues to remove his clothes, reaching for his loincloth. "You're going to leave me alone, come on love…" neteyam starts to take off his loincloth. While you look around worriedly, you didn't want anyone to see you naked. Well, it's not like you have a lot of clothes on at the moment. Your top of ornaments, didn't cover much of your breasts. The last piece of neteyam falls to the floor, leaving him completely naked in front of you. You shift your gaze, you felt your cheeks were getting hot, neteyam was very beautiful…too much of beautiful. "Do you want me to help you?" asks neteyam, approaching you. Neteyam kneels in front of you again, coming over to help remove the knots from your top, moving it out of the way. You swallow hard, you loved it when he took care of you. Pulling the knots out of your loincloth, leaving you naked.

Neteyam pulls away a little, looking you up and down gently. It made you nervous, when he did these things. You laugh shyly, touching his chest. Neteyam meets your gaze, and there was a tender smile on his lips. His look was one of love and admiration. Damn…you had him so in love. "Hey…come on!!!" you move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, to kiss his cheeks. "Ok, ok" netayam wraps his arms around you, standing up suddenly. Making you scream, as he walked towards the water. Sometimes you forgot how tall neteyam was, holding you tightly. As neteyam got deeper into the water you were stealing sloppy kisses all over his face and neck. When the water finally touches your shoulders, you can feel neteyam tighten his grip on you. Taking your thighs, to wrap them around his waist, you squeeze him intently trying to seek friction on his skin. He begins to kiss your neck, while his hands move over your hips, and squeeze the soft skin. You were getting a little desperate, kissing and seeking more of his touch. "I thought we were just going to bathe" neteyam says giggling between kisses, enjoying the attention you were giving him. Holding you tighter, lifting you higher on his body. "You started it" you laugh. "Hey…did you know I can hold my breath for 5 minutes straight?" says neteyam, looking at you mischievously.

"And?" you speak, feeling neteyam pull you a little away from his body. But he still holds you so you don't move too far away. "I would like to know if I can break my record…and I need your help. What do you think?" neteyam starts to go down in the water, while you laugh. Feeling him pull you closer to him. He dives completely into the water, kissing your stomach leaving a line of bubbles rising up. You place your hands on his hair, helping him a little. You knew the way he was going. Lowering it further, feeling neteyam take your thighs, to wrap them around his shoulders. Sinking his face into your cunt, His tongue flicked your clit and then spread from the bottom of your pussy to the top. The sensation of rough tongue, the feeling of bubbles caused by neteyam's lack of air. They caused you to shudder, and squeeze your thighs tighter against the sides of his face. Tangling your hand in his braids, you didn't know how he was managing to stay underwater so long, but he was making his point.

Leeka thought about what had happened. For her it was strange enough that a boy like neteyam was denying her proposal to count. Leeka was a highly demanded na'vi in the clan…but she had her eyes set on neteyam. But what she was most curious about was the strange relationship neteyam had with you. She knew that you had grown up together, and that he had always been around demons. But… neteyam was very very close to you, and she was thinking that this was not normal. She was beginning to believe the rumors among the younger members of the clan. The romantic closeness the two of you had, how neteyam's scent was wafting over you. How you had been seen together, in unusual situations. But she knew she could fulfill what she promised neytiri…besides neteyam couldn't be with human, that's ridiculous. Leeka decided to go for a walk, she wanted to clear her mind. But she also wanted to look for neteyam, he couldn't be far away. The girl had walked quite a long way, she thinks it's been an hour. But she can hear the sound of water very close to her. She was going to stop and get some water…but stopped when she heard some voices.

Neteyam climbed up, breathing fast and with a stupid smile on her lips. You were stunned by the previous activities. You felt your cheeks burning, when Neteyam placed his hands on your face. Leaning in for a kiss, pulling away a little. Enjoying the view, of his partner all shattered in his arms. And that was just a little bit…of everything he wanted to do with you. You relax into his touch, resting your head in his hands. As you try to regain your normal breathing, neteyam slides his thumb across your lips…sliding it into your mouth. Watching as you instinctively suck it gently as he withdraws it, leaving a 'pop' sound. "You're a good girl" neteyam says, moving closer to kiss your lips. "Thank you" you speak, watching as neteyam lets out a laugh, pulling you close to his chest, so you can hug him. After a moment of cuddling, keep silent. "I want us to unite before eywa" says nateyam out of nowhere, noticing how your eyes widen in surprise. "What?" you ask.

Neteyam was getting tired of playing these little games with you, he wants you to be his partner. May you be his woman completely. That he could have you completely and he knew that you wanted too. He could feel it. “But what will your family say,” you speak, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I will talk to my family…they will understand. I want this to be serious, I love you” Neteyam is interrupted when they both hear Leeka's voice calling Neteyam. “Neteyam?” Leeka is standing on the shore, the girl glances at her feet. Noticing the mountain of outfits on the grass. And seeing how you and neteyam were together. You quickly move away, swimming further. Meanwhile, Neteyam turned around, now looking at the girl. "What's going on?" Neteyam asks. "What are you doing here? “I thought they were somewhere else,” Leeka says, crossing her arms. “I never say where I was going…besides, why do you care so much?” Neteyam sounded arrogant and annoyed. Leeka sulks, but she knew that she was no one to complain to him. “Sorry…I only found you guys by accident” Leeka says, looking at you intently.

You were trying to cover yourself, you didn't want her to suspect anything. Leeka looks at clothes again, and then laughs a little. “It seems like you are enjoying the river,” she says sarcastically. “Yes… and you are interrupting us” says Neteyam. “teyam!!!” You scold him, but he ignores you. His attention now was on Leeka leaving them alone. “Well… sorry for interrupting, see you later teyam” she laughs and looks at you as she says the last word. They both stay there, watching the girl walk away from the river. Leaving you alone again, Neteyam watches carefully, making sure she's not around. To turn to see you. He can tell how upset and scared you were right now. “Y/N?” neteyam calls, trying to take your arm. But you walk away, swimming towards the shore. “I told you that someone would come…and ahhh” you start arguing to yourself. You knew it wasn't his fault, but you were also aware that this could cause problems. “It's no big deal…she won't say anything” Neteyam says, keeping up with you. You guys had already gotten out of the water, and you were starting to put on your clothes.

“Of course…neteyam that girl was chosen by your mother. She talks to her, spends time with her…her” You turn to look at him, as you put on your last piece of clothing. “I want to go back to the lab, yes?” You give up, you didn't want to talk about this topic now. Your good time had been ruined by her. Neteyam also felt like you. “Okay…but” neteyam takes your hand, kneeling down to be at your height. “How about we meet in our place today? Yes…please” Neteyam begs, kissing your hand. You think for a moment, you didn't want things to escalate, but you also wanted to spend more time with him. You smile at him, and move closer to kiss him on the tip of his nose. “Ok…we'll see you at the same time” you see how the boy gets excited. They both finish getting ready, and begin their way back home. But this time, neteyam would carry you all the way, you were too tired to walk back.

Neteyam dropped you off in front of the lab, he was aware that what had happened had hurt both your spirits. You had barely spoken on the way home, but he was not discouraged. Maybe all you needed to do was get some rest and then you could go see each other. Neteyam came up to you, giving you a big kiss on your cheek. And another on the crown of your head. "I'll see you…yes?" neteyam looks at you hoping you wouldn't stand him up. "Yeah" you speak, smiling shyly and walking into the lab. Looking back, watching as neteyam stood there waiting for you to come back to him. But you decide to continue on your way, leaving him more frustrated. The boy sighs loudly…why that girl had to show up, why his mother was so insistent. He was going to put a stop to this whole situation… his family had to know the truth and accept it.

Neteyam arrived at the family hut, to his good fortune he found his mother and grandmother. Mo'at was visiting the hut, helping her daughter. Both women watched as Neteyam entered the hut, they could see that he was upset. But not in comparison to his mother, who had barely turned around to greet him. "Mom?" speaks neteyam, approaching his mother's side, to sit next to her. "I have to tell you something" neteyam didn't mind that his grandmother was with them, in the end she always found out everything. "I want to talk to you too" neytiri says, neteyam is silent so that her mother can start first. Neytiri looks up, her look was one of confrontation. "What the hell were you doing naked, and kissing Y/N in the river this afternoon" neytiri blurts out, neteyam gets nervous quickly. Jumping out of his seat, looking quickly at his grandmother. Mo'at looked shocked, but she already knew her daughter was going to ask that question to the poor boy.

After Leeka left the river, she went ahead. Running as fast as her feet would allow, she quickly reached neytiri. Telling her everything she saw, this left neytiri astonished. She couldn't believe it, it was one thing for her son to be friends with these humans. But that he was romantically involved with one…she couldn't believe it. As soon as mo'at arrived to visit her daughter, she told her everything that was happening. Even neytiri complained to her mother, because of the closeness she had with you. "Are you suggesting that because of me the two of them are together?!!!" shouts a little mo'at. "Don't say they are together" neytiri was falling in crisis. And now she finally had the chance to ask him in person, neteyam had to tell her the truth.

"Mom…" neteyam looks down for a moment, takes a breath and begins to speak. Now…this was the moment. After so long he was going to tell her everything. "Y/n and I…we want to be a mates. And we are going to unite before eywa. That is my wish and Y/n's wish" says neteyam, he had a confident voice. He knew what he wanted and that no one was going to change his mind. Neteyam's statement left Mo'at speechless, she looked at her daughter. Neytiri's eyes were closed, and for a moment she bit her lower lip in anger. "You're going crazy…that's impossible. I won't allow it" neytiri shouts, turning completely around now. "Mama but" neteyam tries to defend himself. "No…you know all that we have sacrificed for those humans and now you tell me that you want to join your life with one of them…that is something, impossible. It is something almost…grotesque" neytiri speaks, neytiri's words hurt neteyam.

And yes, he didn't have the heart to yell at his mother. So he just lowers his head, letting his mother vent all her frustration. "Daughter" mo'at tries to rationalize with neytiri, touching her shoulder. But neytiri pulls away, getting up from the ground angrily. "Listen neteyam… you're not going to see that girl again. I know you're of age, but I won't let you give away your future" neytiri storms out of the hut, not before stopping at the entrance of the hut. "I'm so disappointed in you" neytiri says, walking away. Meanwhile neteyam had remained there, sitting with his head down. And mo'at could notice, as some tears fell to the ground. Her grandson had been an exceptional child all his life…she knew what was going through his head now. And how bad he felt…but she also understood that no one was in control of his heart.

Mo'at settles down next to her grandson…wrapping him in her arms. Giving him a kiss on the side of his head. "neteyam don't worry… I will talk to your mother" Mo'at says. Watching as the boy looks up quickly. His face was teary, some tears were still running down his eyes. "You're not upset?" asks neteyam. Mo'at was a little confused, but not upset. She had learned that things in life cannot be controlled, that eywa has its own plans. And even if you interfere with them…it never works. Besides, they were talking about you, she knew you. She had practically raised you, she knew you and she knew you were a good girl. Neytiri was either overreacting…or she was already going crazy. But she was going to support her grandson…she couldn't leave him alone.

#avatar the way of water #avatar x y/n #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar 2022 #human y/n #neteyam imagine #human reader #neteyam #neteyam x human reader smut #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam oneshot #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam scenario #neteyam series #neteyam smut #neteyam x you #neteyam x female reader #atwow neteyam #avatar neteyam #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader #female y/n #neteyam fanfic #avatar masterlist #neytiri avatar #neytiri x neteyam #neytiri imagine

[ifangirlalot]

Finn eating pussy hcs ??

˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 ˎˊ˗ | starring finn wolfhard

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

*~smut!~* [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘]: oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, clit sucking pairing: finn wolfhard x AFAB!reader

Ask and you shall receive! Honestly, I had so much fun on this request....

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 Eating pussy is like Finn's version of stress eating. Which, having so many different careers, Finn tends to get stressed A LOT… so you can only begin to imagine how many times you end up having to be his stress snack.

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 Upcoming interview? Pull those panties down.

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 Scene that's particularly stressful to film? Drop dem drawers.

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 Oddly enough, Finn almost seems like he gets more enjoyment out of it than you do. He whimpers and whines a lot, his hands pressing against your thighs, leaving little crescent shaped marks from his fingernails.

"Oh... ugh, fuuuuuck, yes. Just a little more.."

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 A lot of heavy breathing on Finn's end. Aggressive clit sucking and loud, muffled moans.

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 He loves it when you wear dresses and skirts because that means it's easier for him to lay you against a table or a chair or something and dip his head between your legs for a quick pick me up.

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ ���� It's almost like he's addicted to giving you head.

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 Sometimes, he lies about being stressed just so he can get on his knees for you.

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 Expect to be woken up by head A LOT.

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 As for Finn's "style" of head, he's incredibly good at (honestly, what is that man NOT good at, at this point). While he's down there, his tongue is a-flickin' and a-rollin', his mouth is a-suckin' and a'kissin'. Not to mention his tongue is pretty quick in its movements.

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 He also is a particularly big fan of secret hickeys. If anyone saw your thighs, they'd probably think you just constantly run into shit. Which I guess you do, but by "shit" it's "Finn's mouth".

₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 Finn has a potty mouth. This we know. But what you might not know is that it's like ten times worse when he's horny. It's dirty talk, left and right.

"Jesus, you're so wet. For me?" "If I could eat your pussy for every meal for the rest of my life, I promise you I would never skip a meal."

[A Note From Zee]

OMG Y'ALL- I am getting so damn good at getting these posts out wtfffff.

#💭 ۫⠀HEADCANON.⠀୨୧⠀· ˚ #⊹ . SMUT ۫ . #finn wolfhard smut #finn wolfhard x you #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard #stranger things #it #mike wheeler #richie tozier #miles fairchild #boris pavlikovsky #trevor spengler #ziggy katz

[loveemagicpeace]

🎢Astrology Notes🎢

💧People with neptune in the 4th house - they almost always have one parent who is addicted to drugs or alcohol. And I always see that these people become very famous in life.

🎸People with venus in 4th house are not always happy at home. Although Venus is the planet of love, justice, peace and beauty. On the other hand, it is also the planet of finance, money, materialism. And as a child, you may often feel that your parents are too materialistic or that money plays an important role at home. You may also feel that your parents look at you as an object and as a person. Not always, but many times people with this placement go to court when it comes to inheritance.

⛵️People often accuse sagittarius of being too direct, speaking their mind and having too strong opinions. But the thing is that they just want to say things from their perspective, realistically and help. They don't really care what you do in the end.

✨A men should always have a more dominant moon than a woman in my opinion. So for ex.: woman with cancer moon should have men with taurus moon or woman with virgo moon should have men with leo moon. This is because this way the woman will feel more stable in the relationship.

🌴People with Mars in a fire sign will always look for someone who will be fearless, persistent and won't give up. Someone who will be assertive and dominant. They love challenges and they love the craziness and teenage energy. They like someone with whom they can have a teenage and passionate relationship.

🌌Neptune represents where you can manifest something. What can you achieve faster and in an easier way. Wherever you have Neptune in your house shows what you can manifest quickly. For ex.: Neptune in 1st house-your appearance, style, personality, recognition, energy. Neptune in 5th house- joy, romance, dating life.Neptune in 8th house- finances, intimacy, truth, secrets.Neptune in 11th house- social media, dreams, interests, friends.

🌙Moon can be a changing game in the chart. You can have venus & mars in leo, which can mean that you are more inclined to have fun or flirt, but let's say if you have a taurus moon, after that this could change. And you can be much more calm and serious in the group. Your energy is also much more radiated and many times you will rather be at home than in a crowd of people. Or having venus& mars in sag and cancer moon- this then makes you a person who prefers to be with people you know and many times you don't like to go somewhere where there are many unknown people (even birthdays can be a problem). Because Moon represents how you feel and also your environment, where u feel safe.

🥂If you think mercury in virgo look at the details , then you haven't met someone who has mercury in scoprio. They will do anything to investigate the person they like. And literally looked at the person from all possible angles in pictures and videos.

🎨Cancer moon people are more huggable than Taurus moon people.They will immediately hug you and the cancer moon needs a lot of love and kindness. They are really so nice and will always be there for you. Also funny thing about cancer moon is that when they don't feel good in group or in the environment they are in: they are always "I'm going home" kind of vibe. They will not even go to a birthday party if they feel that the environment does not suit them. They put a lot of effort into feeling good in the environment.

🎸Your 9th house sign can show you the types of friends you might not see very often, but when you hang out, you usually have a ton of fun & a lot to catch up on. And they can be very close to you as a person, even if you don't see each other that much. Can also show you the types of people in your life that might be long-distance friends too.

🧸Parents with a water moon will sacrifice everything for their children. Especially pisces or cancer. They know how to connect emotionally with their children. And I really like that - that whatever they will be able to understand emotionally.

⛰️I have noticed many times that Aquarius men cheat and actually I've never seen anyone who didn't -because their identity is subject to the fact that they always want to be free in some way. A combination of men with sun in aqua, pisces moon & gemini rising is often questionable.

💡The most broken signs on the inside are often the ones who don't show as much energy and openness. Or they are always emotionally strong. Placements like this are: aries moon(very very independent moon often have a hard time letting someone help them), pluto in 1st house( their problem is that they are afraid of losing their power and being vulnerable), capricorn rising( they tend to think that they have to do everything by themselves and somehow don't like to discuss difficult things with others), scorpio moon( very intense moon, problems with showing emotions), taurus moon( many times they shut down emotionally and don't like to talk about what's wrong, suppress their problems), sagittarius rising( their energy is very happy and optimistic, but sometimes they feel too much that they don't need help).

✨Ig-bekylibra✨

- Rebekah🌸🌙🎸

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #my notes #astrological houses #astrology observations #moon

[theminecraftbee]

"You know, I kind of get it now," Gem says to Impulse.

"What?" Impulse says. He's nervously playing with a frozen shard in his hands. Come on, Impulse, head into the dungeon, don't be shy, you can do it. Keep hyping yourself up, you didn't die horribly last time. Ugh, he wishes he were a little less into the game, or maybe more uncomplicatedly addicted, like Gem; it would make everything easier if he thought he could either just leave or play.

"I get it now!" Gem says. "Oh, stop debating if you'll go in like that, either do it or don't."

"I'm trying, Gem!"

"Yeah, but if you aren't gonna do it, I want a go."

"You used all your shards."

"In principle!" Gem says. "It's the principle! You wouldn't get it. You don't hang out here nearly as much as I do. You don't understand, understand the vibes." She sticks out her tongue at him for good measure.

"Well, inform me of the vibes, and maybe I'll work up the nerve," Impulse says.

"It's like--I get it now," she says. "When you were complaining earlier this season about Tango not going outside, I was like, aw man, you redstoners and your caves. I'm a sunshine girl. I like trees. And bloodshed."

"Don't see how those things are related but continue," Impulse says.

"I thought you were complaining because Tango is equally lame as you are about stuff like 'going outside' and 'talking to people who don't drag him into it'," Gem clarifies.

"I go outside!" Impulse says. "I go outside all the time! I ran a rebellion! I pranked you and Pearl! I yelled at Grian! I helped cover the perimeter! I have a whole island and a giant shop! I got a job with Scar! I even went through the Rift! I don't know what you want from me, here. It's not like I'm Tango. I did things that weren't my base from time to time."

"The lady doth protest too much," Gem says.

Impulse sighs. Gem laughs and hops into the air and squeezes herself into a gap between the walls near the entrance to the dungeon. Impulse has seen her in there a lot recently; it's almost like she's a gargoyle, or an inlaid relief for the dungeon. Weird thing to think about his friends, but--

"Besides," Gem continues. "Besides. I just said I get it now."

And something about that makes the hairs on Impulse's arm stand on-end.

"You get why we have to work so hard on circuit design?" Impulse asks hopefully.

"No, I don't get the redstone stuff, that's all still stupid nerd stuff," Gem says cheerfully.

"Jock," Impulse says.

Gem smirks meanly. "Script kiddie."

"Ow, that hurts. And it's not even true. Where did you even learn that one, you just admitted you hate that stuff!"

"Lady never tells her secrets," Gem says.

"Well, if you don't understand the redstone, what do you understand?" Impulse asks.

"Just--you really could stay in here forever, couldn't you? It'd be fun while you did it! I even built a tree and everything. Not much I have to leave for anymore, is there?"

Impulse swallows. Ah.

"Except when you run out of shards," he says, after a painful long several seconds in which there's a rock in his throat and he can't breathe and he has to try very hard to find an excuse to refute that.

"Yeah, except for that. Why did Tango have to go and limit how many times we can go in, huh? If I didn't get bored halfway through the week I think I could just move in!"

And Impulse--

Impulse thinks of Tango.

"Yeah," he says. He plays with the frozen shard in his hands. It feels very cold. "I wonder why."

"So? Are you gonna run or not? I want to mock you when you die," Gem says.

"...I might as well spend them all sooner rather than later," Impulse says, and he puts the shard in the barrel. His heart skips a beat as the door opens. Gem cheers. He shakes his whole body to shake off the conversation as he goes inside. It never does, after all, to try to run the dungeon while distracted.

#hermitcraft #a bee fic #decked out 2 #impulsesv #geminitay #SO GEM BASICALLY LIVES IN DECKED OUT HUH. #staring at the 'tango gets eaten by his base' continuity. that's not concerning at all. #...i have no idea why i thought i was done with this continuity BEFORE decked out opened i should have known better

[pallastrology]

🍄 astro notes 🍄

venus biquintile pluto is a really interesting aspect. the biquintile is usually associated with creativity and the development of artistic ability, and with venus being involved, there is even more potential and a genuine love for art. the native will find happiness and connection through their creative pursuits. with pluto on the other end of the aspect, something interesting happens. there can be a tendency towards obsession; they are more dedicated and more patient, with a strong work ethic and a desire to find meaning through their art, and it can bring them real catharsis. they may discover and nurture repressed parts of themselves through their art, and overall, there is a bit of a darker theme to this otherwise light and bright placement.

moon square pluto is often given a really negative spin online; i’ve seen everything from emotionally out of control to “will abuse their children”! this just isn’t a helpful way to interpret harsh aspects. my experience with this placement is that big emotions are very frightening, often because of the native’s early experiences. they seek to “control” their emotions, which can make them quite vulnerable to impulsive or addictive behaviours. they often have a deep relationship with mother figures, and with their children, which yes, at their worst, can become enmeshed and intense. but at their best, these relationships are intimate and founded on mutual trust, long lasting and able to weather the harshest storms.

venus-saturn aspects are all about delayed gratification. the native has to grow into their loving, creative, social side, and they usually have to "grow through what they go through"; depending on the aspect, they may just feel a little different, or have no interest in relationships, or they may grow up lonely or isolated, or deal with unhealthy relationships. they have to do a lot of self-work to develop self-love and nurture the soft, creative side of themselves, before they can really feel at home around other people. but when they reach that point, they can build beautiful, devoted and ultimately very healthy connections with others, that allow all involved to really thrive.

pluto conjunct ascendant natives have a really intense gaze. i think that usually we only think of the eyes when they think of the pluto stare, but to me it goes a lot further than that; especially with the conjunction, pluto-ascendant people look with their whole body. they have the intense eye contact, sure, but they tend to also have a hard mouth and slightly furrowed brow, a certain tension in their jaws and necks. they look like a cat about to pounce in a way, you can almost see that electrical energy under their skin.

in astrology, the sextile and trine are considered to be harmonious aspects; they denote an easy, well-blended connection between the two planets involved. the sextile is steadier, and more prone to stagnation, which can look like complacency or even entitlement; the trine is more dynamic, meaning in a way, it's easier to bring out the positives of the aspect.

lilith in the tenth house is a placement that is very vulnerable when it comes to social media. nowadays, it's so normalised to post everything that it's almost radical to stay away from it, and with lilith in the tenth house, it's easy to feel validated and vindicated through what they post. unfortuntely they are easy targets for online abuse and can actually feed into and "bait" this kind of harmful interaction when hurting and angry. lilith in the tenth house needs to learn to find healthy outlets and become more reflective, less reactive.

uranus conjunct ascendant natives are bright, almost electrified. they can be prone to sudden epiphanies that show up in strange moments; sitting bolt upright in the middle of the night with a sudden realisation, for example. they can be chaotic, but when given space to breathe, they are brilliant, both in that they are clever and reflective with the energy to pull off everything they think up, and that they seem to sparkle. there is a clarity to their voice, their eyes, like they glow from within.

venus square the north node natives really struggle with being uncomfortable. they tend to be somewhat sensitive, and are irresistibly drawn to the beautiful, the soft and smooth. they just want to be comfortable, but this can lead to the native avoiding or dropping anything uncomfortable. if they want to grow and feel fuller in themselves, they will have to learn to thrive in challenging situations, without going too far in the opposite direction and not being able to listen to their instincts or enjoy anything in life.

libra suns with mercury in scorpio are an interesting mix, because they have the reflective sensitivity of libra and the stark and often quite brutal language of scorpio. they are often quite gifted writers, with a talent for the existential and deeply emotional. they aren’t as talkative as you’d expect a libra sun to be, and they are generally more somber, but with a dry, dark sense of humour and a disarming straightforwardness to them.

#pallastrology #astrology #astrology blog #astrology post #astrology observations #astro notes #astrology notes #astro obs #venus biquintile pluto #pluto conjunct ascendant #moon square pluto #venus-saturn aspects #sextile #trine #libra sun scorpio mercury #uranus conjunct ascendant #venus square north node #lilith in tenth house

[sidekick-hero]

Carry you

(steddie | rated t | wc: 4k | cw: drug addiction, hurt Eddie Munson, post break-up, hopeful ending | @steddielovemonth | prompt by @starryeyedjanai "Love is letting someone take care of you" | AO3)

When Eddie opens his eyes, he has no idea where he is.

That should probably scare him, but the only thing he can think in that moment between blissful nothingness and cold, hard reality is "the bathroom at the party looked different." Because he is in a bathroom, that much he can say. There are white tiles everywhere and a roll of toilet paper in front of him and... is that a plastic handrail?

Lifting his head is a Herculean effort, but somehow he manages to do it, even though it makes his stomach turn.

In front of him is a freestanding shower and a bathtub with stairs to get into. The bathroom is huge and sterile, smelling of disinfectant.

As more and more of his senses come back online, Eddie notices several things at once:

#1 He's wearing what can barely be called a gown, cold air hitting his exposed skin everywhere. His back, his legs, hell, even his junk gets more of a breeze than he likes.

#2 He's nauseous, his stomach rolls uncomfortably, and his head is killing him, a sharp pain that's increasing in intensity by the second.

#3 He knows that something is definitely very, very wrong and he can feel the anxiety rising like bile in his throat.

It's that last realization that triggers his fight or flight response and in seconds he's off the toilet he's sitting on, the sudden movement sending him stumbling, his legs wobbling and his head spinning. Everything hurts and he feels so weak. He catches himself on the railing next to the toilet and figures that's what it's there for. Although he has no idea what kind of person would have such a strange bathroom. The last one he was in, at Tim's or Tom's or Terry's party, something with a T, for sure, the tiles had been black and there had been a lot of bamboo furniture and gold accents. It had smelled nice too, vanilla and cinnamon.

He staggers to a door that hopefully leads out of this fucking nightmare. Maybe Gareth or Freak are behind this, to teach Eddie a lesson for ditching them again to go partying when they had to pack up their shit after the show. But not Jeff, he's too nice to do something like that. The next morning, when Eddie arrives with a hangover the size of his ego, to quote Gareth, Jeff will only look at him with disappointment.

Or maybe they just don't care enough about him anymore to pull a prank on him. Eddie can't remember the last time they even talked to him, beyond discussing the bare minimum for their shows.

Leaving the bathroom, he carefully walks down a long hallway with the ugliest yellow linoleum Eddie has ever seen. It hurts his eyes and his stomach gives another unpleasant churning. On his right, he sees a glass door with "Intermediate Care Unit" written in big white letters.

What the fuck?

He turns right and continues down the hall, hoping to find someone who can tell him where he is and why his body feels like it's been hit with a sledgehammer. Repeatedly.

"Mr. Munson, you shouldn't be out of bed," a stern voice calls from behind him, and when he turns around he sees a middle-aged woman in white scrubs looking at him with a stern expression on her face.

Feeling more and more like he has landed in an episode of The Twilight Zone, Eddie looks at her with an incredulous look on his face. "Who are you? And where is everyone?"

She scoffs at his answer, clearly not pleased.

"I am the nurse responsible for getting you well enough to leave this ward as soon as possible, and you would make my job a lot easier if you would go back to your bed." Before he can process the meaning of her words, she continues. "As for everyone else, well, no one else overdosed, so I would assume they're all home by now."

Eddie can only stare at her open-mouthed, disbelief and horror probably written all over his face, because her own face is softening slightly.

"Now come on, let's get you back to bed, you really shouldn't be wandering around."

She gently takes his elbow and leads him to a door with the number 719 on it. As she opens it for him, Eddie sees three beds inside. To the left and right, he sees two old men, both looking directly at him. The one on the right says, "We tried to stop him, Nurse Elli, we really did," in a high, nasal voice that is already getting on Eddie's nerves. "The kid wouldn't listen to us, would he, Harry?"

"Exactly," Harry answered, at least in a deeper, more bearable tone.

Ignoring the geriatric Ernie and Bert, Nurse Elli leads him to the bed in the middle and helps him to lie down again. Only then does Eddie remember that all he's wearing is a thin hospital gown with an open back. Well, he thinks, Nurse Elli has seen worse in her profession than his pale, scrawny ass. Besides, it's not like much of his modesty has survived the last two years of sex, drugs and rock'n'roll that have been his life.

By the time he's back under the covers, his nurse has turned around and is walking back over to the door. A bone-deep exhaustion has begun to seep into his body, slowly dragging him back under, but seeing her walk out of the room gives him a burst of energy.

"Wait! Someone needs to tell me what happened. What am I doing here?"

Embarrassment burns hot under his skin as he hears the tears in his voice, but the sound of it breaking at his question makes Nurse Elli stop. She turns back to him and her eyes are much kinder than before.

"The doctor will be with you shortly. He'll explain everything to you, Mr. Munson. I'll let him know you're awake now."

And then she leaves, and Eddie sinks back into his bed in the hope that the next time he opens his eyes, it will all have been just a bad dream.

It was not all just a bad dream.

The next time Eddie comes to, he's alone in his room, except for a middle-aged man who seems to be the doctor Nurse Elli told him would be stopping by.

Doctor Owens explains that he overdosed on alcohol and coke at a party at some music producer's house and had been in a coma for two full days. They quickly stabilized him, pumped his stomach and gave him fluids through an IV. Eddie is lucky he's still young and his system recovered from the shock quite well. When he showed signs of waking up, they brought him down here from the ICU to free up his bed for someone who needed it more.

"If Mr. Harrington hadn't called 911 and told them to come get you, you'd be dead right now, Mr. Munson. I'm sorry to say this, but from what I've heard, no one at the party even cared, just insisted that you brought your own drugs and they had nothing to do with it. Mr. Harrington has also been your only visitor so far."

His words should make him angry or sad, something, but he can't process them. Not when his brain is still struggling to make sense of the first part of his statement, Eddie’s heart racing in his chest.

"Mr. Harrington? As in..."

"Steve Harrington, he says he's a close friend. He's the one who called the ambulance, gave the operator your cell phone number so they could track your phone and get you to the hospital. He's been visiting you every day since. He also called your uncle, because we are not allowed to give out any medical information to anyone outside of the family. Your uncle should be here soon, I called him yesterday to give him an update on your condition."

His mind is reeling, too many thoughts fighting for dominance and one word screaming louder than any of them in his head.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

How... it couldn't be. Not after their last fight. Not after the things he said to Steve. To his horror, he feels tears burning hot in his eyes at the memory. A memory he had pushed as far back in his mind as he could because every time he thought about that night he wanted to curl up into a fetal position and cry.

"You are a lucky man, Mr. Munson. This man seems to care a lot about you, as does your uncle. You should let them help you. And if you will allow me to be very clear with you: You need all the help you can get. You're young, so your body can take a lot. But it's not in good shape. You have an old man's liver, and your spleen and kidneys are showing signs of the abuse you put them through. The echo also showed some irregularities in your heartbeat. If you continue down the path you're on, your organs will fail and you will die, Mr. Munson. Painfully. So my advice to you is to get clean as soon as possible. We have some facilities we work with, a nurse will bring you some brochures."

Eddie could only nod numbly, tears now falling freely from his eyes, his throat tight and his head aching. Everything hurt. Especially his heart.

"Okay, we'll keep you here for two more days until we're sure you're stable enough to be on your own." Doctor Owens tells him, turning to leave and get on with his day, as if he hadn't just dropped a damn bomb on his head. He pauses at the door and turns back to him.

"And a word of advice from someone twice your age who's seen a lot in his time here: stick with people who really care about you, like Mr. Harrington, instead of spending your time with people who leave you lying in a bathroom in your own vomit."

With that, he steps out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts.

Eddie doesn't know how long it's been since Dr. Owens left. It could have been hours, days, weeks, for all he knows, too deep inside his own head to spare any thought for the passing of time. Lying in a hospital bed, the nausea and pain raging through his battered body, Eddie finally breaks down and lets the thoughts come.

He's lost in his memories, thinking about everything that led him here, alone and in pain in a hospital bed, after nearly killing himself with things he swore he'd never use. Weed was fine, though he didn't indulge much anyway, preferring to sell it and make some much-needed money than to smoke it himself. But coke? Nah, he knew how epically stupid it would be to even try that shit.

And yet he did.

A party to celebrate the release of their first single. One lapse in judgment while flying so fucking high that nothing could touch him. One bad decision was all it took for him to succumb to the effects of the white powder.

The high he felt after snorting his first line had been magical and he's been chasing that feeling ever since, blind to all he's sacrificed in the process.

It changed him, he knows. Every euphoric high that made him talk a mile a minute, overly affectionate, loud and brash and in love with the whole world would inevitably end in a crash. He became irritable and hostile toward the people he loved, thinking they were out to get him. Whenever his friends or Wayne or Steve so much as looked at him the wrong way about his new habit, he would lash out at them.

He became increasingly angry and accused them of trying to control him, of envying him his success and happiness.

That's when he started drinking, too. He drank himself stupid so that he wouldn't have to think about the way Steve was starting to look at him as if he didn't even know him anymore. To forget the sad look in Wayne's eyes or the way his friends had started to avoid him. When he was drunk out of his mind, he could forget the way the Coffin boys had started talking about him behind his back, could ignore the murderous looks Robin kept sending his way.

Thinking back, Eddie felt like everything had spun out of his control so fast.

It's like one day he comes home to Steve, ecstatic about signing their first record deal and celebrating the start of a new chapter with the love of his life by dancing around their living room barefoot, laughing and kissing each other, promising happiness and forever.

Only to throw that love right back in Steve's face the next day by calling him needy, clingy, and full of bullshit.

He claimed that Steve was holding him back and that Steve didn't love him, that he just didn't want to be alone. He also said that Steve still thought he was better than Eddie, better than the town freak, the fuck-up, the trailer trash.

You don't want me to succeed and finally step out of your perfect shadow, because then what would stop me from leaving you, right?

Eddie regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. Secretly, he had always feared that his success would cause a rift in his relationship with Steve. Eddie had no desire to leave Steve, because Steve was still the best goddamn thing that ever happened to him, but he couldn't help but feel that he was losing him anyway. Even more so when he had seen Steve's face crumble, when he had seen the exact moment when his heart had broken into a million pieces.

He had wanted to take Steve in his arms and apologize for saying cruel things he didn't even believe. It had been his own insecurities that had caused him to lash out, and he had hurt Steve before he had a chance to be hurt himself.

Instead, in true Munson fashion, he had run away and hasn't seen or heard from Steve in six long months that have felt like years.

Steve looks almost exactly the same as he did the last time Eddie saw him.

That's not a good thing, though. Because Steve had been driving himself crazy with worry about Eddie for months before Eddie had taken Steve's heart and torn it apart right in front of him.

Back then he had the same dark circles under his eyes that he has now. The usually golden skin is still too pale and Steve's trademark hair looks even more disheveled from how often he's run his hands through it. His well-fitting jeans, which once hugged his ass just right, now sit baggy on his too-slim frame and Eddie hates it.

He hates that Eddie could still hurt Steve even after he left. That even from a distance he managed to ruin the only person who ever really loved him besides Wayne. There should be some kind of warning sign on him: Beware, do not get attached, will hurt you.

"You're awake," are the first words out of Steve's mouth, and despite everything, Eddie can't stop his heart from responding to the sound of his sweet voice. Steve sounds tired, weary, but to Eddie's ears his voice is better than any Metallica song could ever be.

He tries to smile at him, but he feels as tired as Steve sounds, so it lacks the usual spark.

"Sure am. From what I heard, I have you to thank for that," Eddie adds, unable to help himself. He still doesn't know why and especially how Steve knew he needed help. If this were a Nicholas Sparks novel, their love would have created an invisible bond that made Steve feel when Eddie needed help.

But this is real life, and no matter how much he loves Steve, there is no invisible bond holding them together. Just an unbridgeable chasm.

Steve is still hovering at the door and Eddie thinks he is fighting the urge to wring his hands. Eddie knows his tells by now and he figures Steve isn't sure he's welcome here. Which is ridiculous, because even at his worst, Eddie will always want Steve around, no matter what crap Eddie tells him.

It takes a lot of effort, but Eddie manages to sit up and lean out of bed to pat the chair next to his bed, his eyes never leaving Steve.

Eddie sees Steve's shoulders slump, some of the tension visibly draining from his body at the gesture, and Steve walks over to him and sits down tentatively.

"So..." Eddie begins, dragging out the 'o'. "What happened?"

Steve looks up from his hands in his lap, obviously surprised by the question. "You don't remember?"

"No. The last thing I remember is sitting on a leather couch with a bunch of people I don't know and don't care about, fooling myself into thinking I was having fun." Eddie has had plenty of time to think about his life and where he went wrong, so he decides to stick with honesty. Steve deserves as much and more. "Someone handed me a bottle of whiskey and I opened it and started drinking straight from the bottle. That's the last thing I remember. The next thing I know, I wake up in an ugly bathroom that smells like disinfectant, my whole body hurts like I've been hit by a train, and I have no idea where I am."

Before he can bring himself to say the next part, it's Eddie who has to look away, his eyes focused on his hands playing with the edge of the blanket.

"They told me it was you who called 911 and helped them find me. They said without you I would have died lying in my own vomit." He swallows audibly, tears burning in his eyes, wondering how he could have cried more in the last ten hours than in the last ten years. "They also said you were the only one who came to see me."

Eddie forces himself to look up and into Steve's eyes as he says, "Thank you, Steve. You didn't... I don't deserve you doing this. Not after..." The words die in his throat and he feels like he's choking on them.

He can't do this. He's a fucking coward, not worth saving. Not even worth looking at someone as good and beautiful as Steve.

There's a crease between Steve's eyebrows that Eddie used to smooth with his thumb and lips every time he saw it, and his fingers itch to do it again.

"You called me," Steve tells him, his own hands playing with the edge of Eddie's blanket. "At the party. You called me from the bathroom. I thought it was a butt call or maybe drunk dialing, I hadn't heard from you in months, Eddie."

Eddie winces at his words, but Steve chooses to ignore it.

"But then you sounded so small on the phone. You called me 'Stevie' and 'sweetheart' and then you started to cry." Steve looks like he's about to cry, too. His eyes are glassy and Eddie gets lost in the way the light breaks in them, gold and brown and green all mixed together.

"You told me you weren't feeling so good, that your stomach hurt and the room was spinning so you had to lie down. Your voice -" And here Steve's own voice breaks, after it had already started to shake badly, and without thinking Eddie grabs Steve's hand and holds it tight.

"I'm here, Stevie. You saved me. I'm okay."

"But you almost weren't!" Steve insists, his voice rising, and Eddie finally understands the depth of Steve's feelings. After all these months, after everything Eddie had said and done, Steve still cared deeply for him.

"You talked like you were dying, Eddie. You weren't drunk dialing, you were calling to say goodbye, asshole. You were telling me all these things that I needed to hear you say for months. But I wanted to hear them with you in the room so I could punch you in the face and then kiss it better. Not like this. Not as your last words over a fucking phone call."

That's when Steve breaks down, the tears finally overflowing and he buries his face on the bed at Eddie's hip, their joined hands pressed against his wet cheek.

"Baby," Eddie whispers, shocked, his own heart aching worse than ever as he begins to run his fingers through Steve's messy hair. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm so, so sorry, Stevie. I never meant to hurt you, but it seems like that's all I did."

Taking a deep breath, Eddie continues. "I don't know what I told you on the phone, but since I woke up I've had time to think about it all. I don't know if I can ever make it up to you. Or to Wayne and the kids, Gareth and Jeff and Grant. If I will ever deserve your forgiveness, but I want to try. I want to deserve it one day. I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but... I will go to rehab. I will quit drugs and alcohol, I will clean up my act. And then, if you let me, I will try to make it up to you every single day for the rest of our lives."

Steve slowly lifts his head from the bed and looks at him, searching Eddie's eyes for something.

"Why?" Steve asks, his hand gripping Eddie's even tighter.

There are so many reasons, so many things Eddie wants to say, but in the end there is only one simple answer.

"Because I love you."

The smile on Steve's face tells him it's the right answer, even more so when Steve presses a kiss into his palm. But then he turns serious once more.

"I haven't forgiven you yet, Eddie. You hurt me too much and I need time. But I need you to stop trying to run away from me. I don't want you to go to rehab and clean yourself up before you come back to me. I want to be with you every step of the way. Do it together. Because if you love me, you have to let me take care of you. You have to let me in, Eddie. Let me carry you for once, like Sam carried Frodo when he couldn't go on. Trust me not to let you fall. Please."

"Did you really just make a reference to Lord of the Rings?" Eddie demands and Steve rolls his eyes.

"Is that what you get from everything I just said?"

Eddie sobers up immediately. "No, it just made me fall a little bit more in love with you, and I didn't think that was possible."

"So what do you say?" Steve asks, chewing his lip between his teeth, and Eddie suspects he's not even breathing.

"It's going to suck, Stevie," Eddie says in a quiet voice, stroking Steve's knuckles with his thumb."Are you sure?"

"Yes." No hesitation, no wavering in his voice. It's the same tone, the same determined look on his face as when he told Eddie "Fuck'em," when Eddie told him people in their small-minded town would talk if Steve held his hand in public.

"There's a bunch of brochures of places to check out. Wanna help me pick the least horrible one?" Eddie says, pointing to the table in the corner of the room.

Without another word, Steve gets up to grab them, and for the first time in a long time, Eddie allows himself to hope.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #rockstar eddie munson #cw drugs #steddielovemonth #day 1 #love is letting someone take care of you #my writing

[ghostlywhiskey]

Simon “Ghost” Riley - Love of My Life (Simon’s POV)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,012

Warnings: MDNI 18+ ☆ grinding, fingering, spitting, unprotected sex - If anything else let me know - I'm slightly brain dead writing this.

Summary: Simon comes to your apartment to end things between you.

A/N: Fueled by the song that is my top song of all time on Spotify tee hee. Babies…we know the drill. My proofreading is always little to none. This one took forever because I struggled writing the smut for this, but cheers xoxo.

find my masterlist here

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

“Hey.” My voice sounds so fucking small and pathetic standing in the doorway of her apartment, hands in the pockets of my jeans. “Hey.” She repeats, moving out of the way to let me walk inside.

Somehow trying to breathe while getting waterboarded is easier compared to trying to breathe with the tension in the air between us. 

Walking inside, I kick my shoes off as she closes the door and walks toward her room. Quietly following her it feels like walking with a ball and chain around both ankles. My body is trying to prevent me from going into her room because it’s trying to reject what it already knows. 

She sits down on her bed and I shrug off my jacket, letting it hang off the back of her desk chair as I sit down on it. The silence hangs over us, she’s looking down at her hands. The way she fidgets with her rings indicates she’s nervous. It’s my fault, I’m the one who told her we had to talk. 

“An-” Stopping myself before I say ‘angel’. Not the time. Never again actually. She glances up at me, chuckling softly. “Well, that gives me an idea of where this is going.” The sound of her voice lower than normal, sadness weighing down her vocal cords. The thing is, I can’t even deny her comment. Part of me wants to just say, ‘No, angel. Don’t assume that. We’re fine.’ - but, it would be a fucking lie if I did.

“This would be the part where you disagree with what I’m thinking.” Shaking my head, my eyes meet hers. “But the other part you know I’m going to agree with.” I point out, quickly shooting down any hope as if it was an enemy target. “Then just say it, dammit.” Something snaps in her, I’m the reason for it.

I’m also the reason she lays awake crying when I’m away on missions. The reason she doesn’t have a normal boyfriend who can see her more often than not. The reason she’s left anxious when I don’t reply to a text or a call in a certain amount of time. The reason she feels more alone despite having a man who has loved her more than anything in this life. I wish I didn’t live up to the name ‘Ghost’ when it comes to her, but it’s the one mission I’ve failed.

“I’m letting you go.” The only words I’m able to get out. Because there isn't anything else to say, to me it is as simple as that. She blinks a few times, processing the four words that left my mouth. “Letting me go?” She re-states, confirming what I just said. “Yeah.” I’m detaching my emotions from my words. 

I take you with me every time I go away

The polaroid sat snug between my fingers. It’s replaced the pack of cigarettes I’d once itch to reach for and drag ‘til it was time for another. How is a little image the only thing that relieves any ounce of stress in my body? From one addiction to another, somehow this one feels a lot  deadlier. If only she was as accessible as a pack of cigarettes. She tastes a hell of a lot sweeter between my lips that's for sure. Maybe that’s why this addiction is worse - having a taste every now and then has me crawling back home for more. 

Fuck this shit. I’m fucked. 

Soap nudges my arm, my attention pulled from the drug of choice in my hand. “Is that who I ‘tink it is?” He questions me. The bloody Scot knows the answer to his question. “Oi, why you asking questions you know the answer to?” A grin forms on his face. “Never thought I’d see ‘da day you look fuckin’ smitten is all. Even behind the mask it’s obvious.” And thank fuck for the mask or he’d see I look like I’ve got the worst sunburn of my life. 

“You and me both it seems.” My attention went back to the polaroid, now held between my thumb and pointer finger. Brushing my thumb across the picture of her is like opening flood gates for my mind to imagine she’s right here. As if brushing my thumb over it would have her appear like a genie from a bottle. 

If only it were that fucking easy. 

I remember back at Johnny's place, it's not the same anymore

“Johnny, I’m not a party person.” I state into his ear as I’m trying to leave his apartment. The apartment had slowly filled with people for his birthday, but I was ready to jump out the window. “No, you’ve got to stay!” He protested, putting an arm around my neck. I huff, glancing at him. “One more hour and I’m gone.” Smiling wide, he cheered. “Let’s fuckin’ go!” 

“I need a fuckin’ drink.” The words coming out of my mouth as I walk to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. A girl sits on the counter, a cup in her hand as she stares at the crowd of people filling the living room. She looks uncomfortable, but that isn’t my problem. I grab a plastic cup, pouring some whiskey. 

“Are you a dad?” Her voice fills the kitchen. A dad? My brows furrow, turning to look at her. “The whiskey. That’s your drink of choice?” She asks, glancing at the cup before her eyes meet mine. “What?” The confused tone laced in my words. “All the old men in my life drink whiskey.” She slides off the counter, walking over to me. “Well, I’m not in your life. Or old.” I huff, glancing at her cup and nod towards it. “What’s your drink of choice?” 

She smiles, turning the cup upside down over the sink. “Nothing, just pretending.” She chuckles. “I’m the driver tonight since I didn’t even want to be here.” Well, that makes two of us. “You know Soap?” Her expression turns into a confused one, quickly correcting my mistake. “I mean John.” Only then does she nod. “My friend is seeing him, which is why I’m here in the kitchen hiding out. I don’t know anyone out there.” Now, I can’t help but smile. “Mind if I hide with you in here?” I chuckle, sipping the whiskey. 

“If you drink that whiskey, absolutely I mind. But I guess you’re in my life now, so you get a pass.” She teases.

It's unfortunate, ooh Just coordinates, ooh

“Hi, Simon.” Her voice easing every tense muscle in my body, coming undone like a child ripping a Christmas present open with urgency. “Hi, angel.” Responding to her as I hold the phone between my ear and shoulder, sitting down on the bed to undo my boots. “How was your day?” 

“Hmm,” She hums, the sound of her shifting in her sheets fills my ear as I wait for the response. “It was okay, nothing exciting.”

“Where are you this time?” She’s forcing herself to stay awake, I can hear it in her voice. Moments like this I feel selfish having her in my life. Is it selfish? Selfish to love someone who hears your voice over a phone more than they hear it raw and undistorted face-to-face. It has to be. “Mexico. It’s hot a shit.” I mutter, kicking my boots off. Her giggle on the other end puts the first smile on my face today. “What’s so funny, huh?” My brows furrow, grabbing the phone as the floor becomes the fixation of my gaze. The giggle fading as she starts to speak, “I think it’s funny I’m more concerned of you getting heat stroke with that damn mask than anything else.”

“No need to be concerned.” A stupid, dopey smile forms on my face despite how stern my voice sounds. “Easier said than done.” Her response is quick, no thought behind it or second guessing it. A sigh escapes my lips,  “Angel, I mean it. Don’t be concerned.” My eyes wander around the room as I wait for her reply. Why is she so quiet all of a sudden? “Angel?”

“Yeah? Sorry, I zoned out for a second.” The sound of her sniffle followed by a nervous laugh tells me enough. She couldn’t hide her emotions if her life depended on it. “Please don’t cry.” My own voice is strained, every time she gets upset I feel worse about having her in my life. “Don’t tell me what to do, Lieutenant.” She teases, but her laugh this time just sounds sad. My upper body falls back against the mattress as I stare up at the ceiling. “Too bad. I’m telling you what to do.” 

“Simon?” How do I tell her I want to hear her say my name for the rest of my life? “Yeah, baby?” I responded. “I miss you.” Fuck. My throat feels like someone is tightening a rope around it. Why can’t they just fucking cut my air supply off while they are at it? 

The rope loosens, the air coming back into my lungs as I inhale and exhale out. “I miss you too.” My free hand runs down my face, dragging down to rest itself on my chest. “I’ll be home soon, yeah? Then it will just be us. How does that sound?” The thump beneath my fingers intensifies. Closing my eyes for a moment, I focus on the heartbeat. The thought of her next to me. Hiding us from the world in the confines of my apartment walls. I’m not a religious man, but that sounds like heaven. Would God let me in? Would he let me stay? I’m not deserving of either option. But, I’m getting on my knees and fucking praying for at least a few moments.

“It sounds like a plan to me.” Finally, I can tell she’s smiling again on the other side of the phone. 

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

I think standing on the edge of a cliff would ignite less anxiety in me than sitting on the edge of her right now. The familiarity of being close to death is far more comforting than the unfamiliarity of breaking my own heart so she can live life finding the love she deserves. My legs spread as my elbows rest on my thighs, running my hands through my hair. 

We’ve been going back and forth arguing about breaking up for the past hour now. “So, that’s it?” Her voice punched me back into reality as I looked at her across the room. Her arms crossed as she leaned against her desk.

No. I don’t want it to be. But, I can’t be selfish. You deserve better. 

“That’s it.” I confirm her question, the words coming out of me and taste as bitter as vomit. Except I want to swallow the vomit back up. My eyes go back down to the floor between my feet, scared if I look back at her I’ll swallow the vomit back up. And I can’t.

Her breathing is soft in the dark bedroom, it’s the only sound mixed with my own breathing. And the blood I hear pumping through my body at an alarming rate. “Could I have done anything differently that would have avoided this?” 

God dammit, angel. You were never the problem. 

“Stop that. Don’t think for a second you’re to blame.” Just look at her, stop looking at the floor, dickhead. “Look me in the eyes and say that then.” Her voice strained, my head tilted up to look at her. Sighing, I push myself off the bed, jumping off the cliff. In a few steps, I’m standing in front of her. My hand slips past her neck, slipping behind her head as my fingers tangle in her hair. 

Gently, the hand tugs her hair gently for her to look up at me. “I’m lookin’ at you and I’m tellin’ you that you couldn’t have done anything.” It feels like her eyes are peeling every layer of me back, trying to look for any sign that I’m regretting this deep down. “You’re never gonna get what you deserve from me.” The sound of my voice breaking at the end is the first time I’ve let it show emotion tonight. The tears slowly built up in her eyes, my gaze locked on her. She knows I’m right. Again, it’s just something she doesn’t want to admit. “Simon.” Her voice breaks the same time the first tear slides down her cheek.  

My hand slips from behind her head, both of them moving to cup her face. “Angel.” I finally just pull the fucking bandaid off and say my nickname for her after avoiding it this entire time. My head leans down to rest my forehead against hers, her own hands moved to my face. “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me.” She begs. Thumbs wiping her tears as they cascade down. “I need to, angel. I need to.” I don’t want to, but I never deserved you. The gentle tug of my head caused by her hands, lips connecting with mine. 

She tastes so sweet between my lips, just how I always remember she tastes. But this time it’s mixed with the salty taste of her tears. 

She steps forward, causing me to step back. She keeps walking until my legs hit the bed, my body accepts the fact I can’t move back anymore and drops down to it. Pulling her onto my lap, her arms snake around my neck. The kiss never breaks. I think we’re both scared that if we stop that one of us will try to convince the other we can’t do this. My hands slip under her shirt, one on her waist while the other reaches behind her to unclasp her bra.

My hand stops as my fingers graze the clasp. Don’t do it. Fucking hell, don’t. The tips of my fingers rubbing the clasp to get a feel for it, like I’m trying to pick a lock. The wings of the bra separating as my fingers unclasp the hook. Successfully, the lock has been picked. Once undone, my hands move to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. Only then do our lips separate to let the shirt pass through and give us a chance to catch our breaths. We aren’t scared this time to separate, knowing we won’t stop each other. As I pull her shirt off, she slides the bra straps down her arms and flings it to the floor. 

While we are separated, I take the opportunity to remove my own shirt. Our clothes started to pile on the floor as we discarded them. Her chest pressing against mine as she moves back in to kiss me, her hips moving against me. Her skin is always so cold, it sends chills up my spine when it comes in contact with my own. My hands slip down to her hips, grabbing them as I help her move against me back and forth.

The only sound besides our kisses are the soft groans building in my throat, my pants becoming a straight jacket against my crotch the longer she grinds against me. “Get rid of the fucking clothes, fuck.” I mutter against her lips, pushing her off my lap as she stumbles to catch her balance. Reaching back out to pull her to stand between my legs, hands on either side of her thighs, running them up to the waistband of her leggings. My head leaning in to place kisses on her stomach, glancing up at her. Her own hands glide through my hair before she gently tugs, another groan leaving my as I pull the leggings down along with her panties. 

It’s shitty for me to give into this. I know it is. It opens the door for us to forget about the conversation we just had, but I’m not forgetting it. I’m leaving after this.

Fingers gently graze her core, her heat radiating as I spread her folds open. My own palm faces me as her already wet cunt is begging for something to clench around as my ring and index finger rub back and forth between her folds. “Always so f’ckin’ ready.” Our eyes are not moving to look away from each other as her hands tug my hair to keep me looking up at her. “Stop teasing. Please.” She begs, her thighs trying to squeeze together but my knee moving to keep her legs separated. “You know how much I like to see you dripping before I even fuck you.” She whines at my response, but it amplifies louder as the two fingers push into her. Her knees slightly bend, causing a chuckle to escape my lips. “Weak at the knees, are you?” Teasing, I kiss her stomach again. “Ngh..” She groans, her hand reaching to grab my wrist. 

Not fighting her back, she pulls my hand away, fingers already coated in her juices. I love how responsive her body is for me. Good luck to the next bastard who has to try and compete with the memory I leave her body with.

As she pulls my hand away, I tug it out of her grasp, slipping the fingers into my mouth to clean. A soft hum against my fingers. So sweet. Once satisfied, my pants are pulled down and I stand up to shrug them off my ankles. Both completely bare now, my arms move to pick her up to move her onto her bed. Hovering over her as she lays on the bed, I push her legs apart and settle between her legs. Like muscle memory, her legs bend slightly and lift to rest her heels on my lower back. 

Supporting myself up, my palms rested by her forearms, but one hand moved to rest over her mouth for a brief moment. “Spit.” And just like the good girl she is, she spits on my palm as some of it drips down her chin. My palm coming up to my mouth as I also spit on it before reaching down to pump my cock. Guiding it to her folds, the tip teases her as I move my cock with my hand to slide between her folds and move side to side to tease her. Her whine again fills my ears, a smirk turns my blank expression into a mischievous one. “Say what you want.” Another order directed to her, her hips lift slightly as she grabs my forearm with one hand. “Fuck me, Simon.” All I needed to hear right now, fuck the teasing is the only thought in my head as I position myself. My hand dropped back to her side as I held myself up and thrusted into her. 

Her initial cry out from the pressure filling her always sends me over the edge. I swear it might be enough to make me fill her right then and there most times. “Perfect fuckin’ fit.” I grumble, my head leaning down to kiss her. Her lips meet mine before I even make it all the way down to her, her hand reaching around my head to pull me closer. The moans from her echoing into my head as she kissed me. Palms now fisting the sheets in my hands, my hips thrust into her roughly. 

Rough and slow - just how she likes it. Finding a rhythm, I stick to it and hold for a few moments every time my hips meet her skin. Burying myself in her like I’m digging my grave, except this won’t be my final resting place. I pull from the kiss, looking down at her. “Eyes on me, got it?” She nods, her eyes only closing for a moment as I thrust into her again and drag out slowly before repeating my thrust just as my tip is on the edge of losing contact with her. She whimpers, and I grab her face in my hands. “Eyes.” I hiss, her eyes opening immediately to stare at me. Her lips spread open slightly as she pulls in oxygen and exhales a moan. My grip on her face releasing, her lips parting more now that she can let air in and out easier now. “Simon.” Her voice drags out the ‘-on’, my eyes watching her as she moans my name. “You sound like an angel, you know that? You say my name like it’s a prayer.” Except I can’t answer her prayers, and I know tonight they revolve around hoping I stay.

Her cheeks look like pink paint has spilled over them, she’s never been one to blush at actions, but she acted as if my words were the sweetest thing she ever heard. “You’re so gorgeous.” My voice is barely a whisper, but it’s quickly covered by a groan as I feel her pulsating around my cock. The way her hands cup my face as my own eyes close, now she demands my eye contact to stay on her. “I love you, Simon.” She chokes out as my eyes open and look at her.

My pupils are already larger to adjust to the dark room, but I’m damn near positive they must look blown out when she says those words. I can’t say it back. We’ve never said it out loud. I’m not saying it now. So, I lean down to kiss her instead, a hand reaching down to grab her waist as I push both of us closer to climaxing. My lips pull from hers as I move town to her neck, kissing her skin. I can’t look at her now.

“I-I’m…Simon…more.” She begs, her arms wrapping around me, her nails dig into my back. Another hiss leaves my mouth as I feel her nails dig into my skin as I kiss her neck. “Angel.” I groan, my thrusts getting sloppy. The hand on her waist moves to her lower abdomen, pushing gently. Time to finish her off.

The squishing noises fill the room as she cries out from her climax that hits her. My own following after as I pull my head from her neck and look at her head leaning back in pleasure. My thrusts go until I feel the last bit of cum spill into her, pulling out of her and collapsing on the bed next to her.

It's not what I wanted, to leave you behind Don't know where you'll land when you fly

The room is quiet, her soft breathing tickling my chest as she sleeps peacefully. My eyes are looking up at the ceiling as I try to shut off my brain and the pros and cons list forming in my head if I stay. I need to leave.

Glancing at her sleeping, I closed my eyes for a minute. Am I preparing myself to leave or remembering the image of her like this? Who am I kidding, I’ll remember her face for the rest of my life. Opening them again, my body carefully slips out of the bed. She stirs slightly, but just rolls over on her other side as she pulls the blankets closer to her body. 

Collecting my discarded clothes, I re-dress myself after the events of the night. My feet quietly walk to the edge of the bed her body is facing, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “For the best.” I whisper, standing back up straight. She doesn’t move awake, but a soft smile forms on her face while she sleeps.

Fuck. I need to get out of here. And with that, I slip out of her room and the apartment. My hands are buried in my jacket pockets as I take the elevator down, eyes fixated on the doors. I’m breaking her heart, but it doesn’t mean mine is breaking any less. I love her.

But, baby, you were the love of my life

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #call of duty #simon riley cod #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon riley angst

[wandanatsgf]

If You're Gonna Lie

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 691

Summary: You know she's cheating, but you'd rather hear her lies than leave her

Warnings: This is kinda sad and contains smut so read at your own risk.

You knew being an avenger and dating a fellow avenger was going to be hard work. You knew you’d go through a lot together, but you never expected this.

The red wine sits untouched in the glass you had poured for her. Her dinner has gone cold by now. She said she would be here tonight, but once again she blew you off.

Giving up, you chug her glass and yours before putting them in the dishwasher. Next you throw out her dinner and put the plate in the dishwasher as well and pack up all of the leftovers.

You should’ve known better. You should’ve known she would blow you off again. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. You knew what was going on, but it was easier to believe her lies than to believe she was cheating.

You can feel tears threatening to escape, but you refuse to let them fall.

In the middle of your thinking, the woman of the hour walks in the door.

“I’m so sorry baby. I had to work late. This mission was just crazy,” she tells you. You know it’s a lie, but you’d rather hear her lies than see her leave.

“It’s alright baby. I know how hard work is,” you tell her. The words taste bitter in your mouth, but you choose to ignore that.

“Do you want some dinner? I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge.”

“I think I’d much rather have dessert first,” she says. You know she's doing this to reassure you and probably herself, and you let her. She walks towards you and places her hands on your hips and her lips on your lips.

She tastes like merlot, the merlot he gave her, and cherries. It’s a deadly combination to you. It’s addicting and you hate it. You crave it but you know you should leave. Yet you kiss her back fervently. Your hands tangle themselves in her red locks.

Natasha walks the two of you backwards so that you are pressed up against the kitchen counter. She helps you up, never taking her lips off of you.

Natasha positions herself in between your hips and slowly trails her lips down your neck.

“Nat please,” you beg. You can feel your core getting wetter and wetter the more she touches you.

“Please what baby? What do you want?”

“I want you Nat please. Please fuck me."

Wordlessly Natasha pulls her lips away from you and drops to her knees in front of you. She pulls your shorts and underwear off in one quick motion before going to town on your heat.

“Fuck Nat,” you hear yourself say. Nat wraps her lips around your clit and sucks. Your hips buck up against her mouth and you let out a porn star like moan.

You can feel yourself getting closer with every lick and suck. Your hips start to move like crazy and your moans become uncontrollable. You can feel Natasha smile against your pussy.

"Come on detka. Be a good girl and cum for me," she breathily lets out. At her words you feel the coil in your stomach unwind. Your release coats Nat's tongue and she continues to lick you until you are squirming away from her touch.

Natasha removes herself from your pussy and stands up. She kisses you softly and you can feel yourself melting against her lips.

"I love you," she whispers softly. You choose to ignore the stinging in your chest when you hear her words.

"I love you too."

After Natasha actually eats food you had prepared, the two of you spend the night with her in between your legs and vice versa. When she finally tires, she sweetly kisses you goodnight. She wraps her body around yours and quickly drifts off.

But your thoughts are running too fast to sleep. As you lay intertwined with Natasha you can feel tears threatening to spill. You hate yourself for staying, but you love her so much. You pretend she still loves you and that her words still mean something, because at the end of the day she comes home to you. Not him.

#natasha x reader #black widow x reader #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natalia romanova #natalia romanoff #angst #natasha romanoff angst #scarjo smut #scarlett johansson smut #smut

[bloodynereid]

hey i was wondering if you could write a warren rojas x reader fic where the reader is an absolute rockstar and what their relationship would be like since they’re two musicians dating one another while living with the six

i love ur writing

tyyy 💕💕💕

Rhythm of Our Love

pairing: warren rojas/rhodes x fem! reader

a/n: hi! tysm for ur request and hopefully I fulfilled it the best I could. also u didn't specify if you wanted fem or gender neutral reader so i kind of just went with fem if that's okay. also this fic kind of ran away from me so I guess you just get to spend 5.3k words falling more in love with warren (I personally like longer fics). oh and there's a lot of billy bashing in this, which wasn't really intentional but yk it happens. oh and btw i hadn't watched the new episodes yet when i wrote this so this is really just mixed with some book events so book spoilers (!!) - reader is kind of like female pete if that makes sense

tw: drug mentions (mescaline, weed, pills), addiction mentions, billy bashing (don't know if that qualifies as a warning lmao), swearing, cigarette smoking, mentions of cheating (billy and camila - not warren + reader)

description: the rise to fame of a band and the love story between the drummer and bassist that accompanies it.

Y/N (bassist for Daisy Jones & The Six): Is this on? Yeah okay right. So where do you want me to start? The beginning. Geez okay let’s start at the beginning then.

You grew up living next to the Dunne brothers and ended up taking up bass after listening to Queen and The Beatles. John Deacon and Paul McCartney made those songs what they were and you were proud to be able to play something similar to them. So it was only natural that you ended up joining the Dunne brothers after Graham accidentally heard you playing one summer night.

Y/N: God I can remember the first time I played with them so clearly. They had become a pretty established band in Hazelwood but Chuck had quit, wanting to go to dental school or some shit like that, so they were going to give the bass part to Eddie, until Graham found me.

Eddie: Y/N was a lifesaver. I would have to play bass if Graham hadn’t gotten her to join. Plus she was one of the best things that could have happened to the band.

It was a chilly night but you rocked up to your neighbor’s garage wearing a pair of flared jeans and a butterfly top. Your bass slung over your shoulder and a cigarette between your lips. 

Warren: Y/N was a total rockstar from the beginning. And the way she carried herself that night, man, she was the most attractive woman I had ever seen.

“So are we ready to get this show on the road? I’ve been working on the sheets that Graham gave me yesterday.” You said as you entered the small room where all the boys were already tuning up and Warren was playing a random rhythm on the drums.

“We’re opening for the Winters in two days. Make sure you aren’t still ‘working’ on those sheets.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” You gave him a little salute whilst rolling your eyes which learned a few laughs from the group and a frown from Billy.

“Whatever, let’s just get this going.”

Graham: Billy was an asshole when he first met Y/N. Similar to how he was with Daisy, but he knew we needed her. 

Eddie: Y/N handled Billy better than I think anyone ever has. She met his challenges with blunt sarcasm and humor. Anyone who could deal with his bullshit made an instant friend with me.

Warren: I don’t think she knew how hot I found her at that moment.

Y/N: I knew. I mean I had been harboring a little crush on Warren since middle school. I wanted to impress him and I would say I succeeded.

Warren: She had a crush on me in MIDDLE SCHOOL? If I had known that it would have made things a hell of a lot easier.

Y/N: Fast-forward two days, came the night that changed everything. I mean my first gig was the time we opened for the Winters. My fingers were cramping and I had a horrible backache from the amount of practice I had been doing. On a plus side I got to meet Camila. She was just… incredible. God knows that Billy doesn’t deserve that wonderful woman at all.

You were running on a total of 2 hours of sleep. The past two nights had been spent practicing the pieces over and over again by yourself. And then the days were filled with practice with the boys. The band needed this to be perfect and you understood the weight of that completely. You were a rockstar. You were meant for this. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself as you walked into the performing area, staring wide eyed at the space.

Y/N: All I was thinking was: “You better not fuck this up.” That was the night we also met Karen. Karen Karen, my soon to be best friend. She was the keyboardist for The Winters and let’s just say Graham fell in love at first sight.

Right before we were about to go on stage a sudden crushing feeling started to encompass your chest. You were actually going to do this. Oh fuck.

Warren: I could tell she was having a freakout. I mean if it was my first time playing with a new band AND I had only had 2 days to practice I would have been hyperventilating. So I went up to her.

“What’s your favorite fruit?” That silky voice brought you out of your spiral with the most absurd question that had ever been uttered.

“Uh what?”

“What’s your favorite fruit? Mine personally are strawberries.”

“Oh umm I don’t know, I kind of like Y/F/F (your favorite fruit).”

“Cool, you good?” That was when you realized what he had done. You sent Warren a blinding smile and leaned to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Yeah thanks I owe you one.”

Warren: Call me a sap or whatever but I can still feel that kiss. I treasured that for a long time. Anyways, she was incredible that night. 

Y/N: There was like this electrifying feeling of being on stage and playing to all those people. I wanted to feel like that forever. Maybe it was also pure exhaustion but I swear it felt like I was on a high.

Billy: She played really well, I mean for a person who had two days of practice.

Y/N: We met Rod Reyes after our set. The man was a douchebag but he planted that LA dream in all of us. I was probably too exhausted to have been making decisions of that kind but…

“If you all will have me, I say fuck it let’s go to LA!”

“Let’s go to LA!”

Y/N: None of us stayed for the Camila and Billy drama, so Warren dropped me off last. We smoked weed for a while. We talked about all that weird philosophical shit that you talk about when high. Then I crashed for a few hours.

It was raining buckets. You pulled up in your dad’s car outside of Warren’s house. You had those weirdly unattached parents who really didn’t give a damn about what you did. They already had their hopes pinned on your older brothers so when you asked if you could move to LA, your parents couldn’t have helped you pack up faster.

“Bye dad.”

“Bye sweetheart. Don’t forget your bass.” He gave you an uncomfortable hug before passing your last suitcase filled with small remnants of your life.

“Hey Mr. L/N. I can take that.”

“Thanks Graham.” He quickly put up your few suitcases on the roof and you waved at your dad as he disappeared into the blankets of rain.

“Ready?”

“Definitely.” Warren helped you into the van and you got situated in a comfortable spot. You lit up one of your cigarettes and opened up the pages of your slightly damp book, waiting for a while until finally everything seemed ready to go. Well not everything.

“Got room for one more?” Camila got into the van and sent you a little smile before cosying up next to Billy.

Y/N: That road trip was one of those things that was both horrible and incredible at the same time. But when we got to LA man wow it was like we were transported and then we met Rod Reyes, again. He was such an asshole but at least we finally had some gigs lined up and a house, but calling it that might actually be a bit generous. 

Warren: Graham insisted we kept the haunted room for Karen. And obviously Billy and Camila got a room. Which meant Y/N was either stuck on the couch or rooming with one of us. And… Graham and Eddie already called the bunks.

“This is so fucking unfair! Why does your non-existent girlfriend get a room and I don’t?”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Fuck you Graham. Where the fuck am I meant to sleep then huh?”

“Uh well Eddie and I are sharing the bunks.”

Y/N: It was like a really bad romance movie.

“You have got to be kidding me! Did any of you even think to count the rooms in this house?”

“Guys just shut the fuck up. Y/N you’re going to sleep in Warren’s room and that’s final. You’re all acting like children.”

Y/N: That was also one of the many times that Camila basically acted like our mother, in a good way.

“You know what, fine! I hope you’re happy Graham.” You said as you slammed the door to your new room and unpacked in a furious hurry. 

Warren: There was a king sized bed that took up basically the entirety of our room. Honestly it was one of the worst rooms in the house, but at least it wasn’t haunted! 

Y/N: Warren wanted to take the floor but if you saw that room you would know that the floor basically consisted of like a slab of wood. The closet and the bed took up the entire space and then there was this huge window. It didn’t even have curtains! Whoever designed that room was an idiot. But we didn’t have the money for anything else.

Warren: I tried to be a gentleman about it but like I would never have been able to sleep on the floor and I wasn’t sleeping outside.

Y/N: Not going to lie after that first night I was kind of grateful to Graham. Don’t tell him I said that though. Anyways we played so many gigs and were getting nowhere. And we were slowly running out of money. Oh and Karen did end up joining the band and she got the room.

You were all seated in some random diner with Camila counting out all the money you had gotten from gigs and your little part-time job working at a movie theater. On your side of the table sat Karen, Warren, you and then Eddie.

“Why are we still called the Dunne brothers, anyway?” That ended up sparking up a rather loud discussion of our side of the table against Billy. You rolled your eyes and leaned your head on Warren’s shoulder. You could see his stupid smile as he looked down at you so you just poked him in the ribs and he laughed.

“I for one am for changing the name.” You said as you took a drag of your cigarette, adding to the already thick cloud of smoke that surrounded the band.

“You see, Billy, basically the entire band is against you on this one.”

“No, no. The band name is what gives us credibility if we change it then all of our reputation goes out of the window.”

“Oh our Pittsburgh reputation really? Or maybe the reputation of not being able to get good gigs.” You barked back at the already angry man which made Eddie send you a grateful smile.

Then came the barrage of horrible name ideas, including one from Warren that made you look up at him from his shoulder in confusion and slight disgust.

“Look okay, the seven of us will never agree on the name.” That’s when it came to you.

“What about The Six?”

“Huh?” Everyone turned to you as you sat up and took a sip of Warren’s coffee.

“I mean no offense Camila but you aren’t technically part of the band so there’s six of us. We can be called The Six. The Five is used too much and The Seven sounds like way too many members so how about The Six?”

“You know what, I like it.”

“Me too.”

Y/N: So we had a shiny new band name, my relationship with Warren had gone from band mates to really good friends. And no I don’t mean that in an innuendo way but you get really close to someone you have to share a bed with every night. We had some good nights.

Warren: I always thought that Y/N would end up moving in with Karen after she joined but she didn’t. I think she knew that that room was haunted.

“So who do you think the most attractive person in the band is?” You and Warren were lying on the bed in a drug addled haze after taking some mushrooms he had gotten from one of his hippie friends.

“Huh?” You sluggishly turned to look at his face, finding that his eyes were already on you.

“Who do you think is the most attractive in the band?”

“Hmm I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean Graham and Billy aren’t my type. Eddie is hopelessly in love with Camila-”

“Wait what?”

“Dude are you blind?”

“No? I mean I know Graham likes Karen but she doesn’t like him.”

“That is like the most obvious observation I have ever heard.”

“Hey! So that just leaves… Camila, Karen and me. Wait, is Camila the person who you find most attractive? I’m not judging if she is.”

“I can’t lie she’s really pretty and Karen is absolutely stunning but no not the person I find most attractive.”

“Me?”

“Yes dumbass. Now it’s your turn to answer the question.”

“Oh that’s easy, you obviously.” You smiled bashfully at him as his mischievous smirk grew.

“You are too charming for your own good.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” That was when you both fell silent. Maybe it was the confidence the drugs gave you but you quickly gave him a kiss before backing away.

“You like me back?”

“Obviously you dumbass, I've liked you for ages. Why do you think I’ve been cuddling with you for the past few months? I don’t do that with every single person I know.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just shut up and kiss me again.”

Y/N: As I said, a really cheesy romance movie. But I found Warren and we fit like puzzle pieces.

Warren: We were high on shrooms when she kissed me. We didn’t do much else that night, other than kissing and then sleeping.

Y/N: I may have loved Warren but we weren’t sleeping together until I knew he was serious. I had seen him with the small amount of groupies that we had. I’m not a jealous woman but that right there boiled my very core.

Warren: I stopped hanging out with the groupies after that night. Y/N became the light of my life, I wasn’t going to ruin the only good thing going for me that wasn’t the band.

Y/N: Then Billy convinced Teddy Price to listen to one of our songs. I have no idea how he did it. The next few months after that song were the most anxiety I had ever experienced but they were also the happiest. I was doing what I loved and I was doing it with the person I loved. Then we got to record the album. 

Karen: Y/N and Warren went official a few weeks before we got the album deal. They were the most obnoxiously cute couple I had ever been around. And they complemented each other incredibly well.

Graham: Honestly I take it as full credit to my genius that those two first got together.

Camila: Oh Y/N and Warren… god they were one of those strangely healthy couples. They were living the life, they had each other, the band and the drugs. They were insanely happy together.

Y/N: We were going to go on tour! That was huge for us and for me. A few days before we went though, Camila told us she was pregnant. They got married that night.

Warren: The wedding? Oh I don’t remember it that much. Mescaline… well it’s a powerful drug.

Y/N: Did Warren tell you we were on mescaline the entire night? Yeah. God, I wish I had been more present in that moment but we truly were having the time of our lives. Camila being pregnant also put things into perspective for us. Protection wasn’t a big thing in the 70s but I had been taking birth control after I read a few books. I wasn’t taking any chances. 

Warren: Yeah we had a deep discussion about that. I think that was one of the many times where I realized how shit it was to be a woman of that time. I supported whatever she wanted to do fully.

Y/N: We went on tour. It was fine. Billy was an asshole but he went off the rails. I mean Warren and I were a bit out of control cause you know… fame. But Billy, he went hard on all the drugs and the groupies.

Warren: We were there to have a good time but I also recognized something in Billy that I never wanted to be. I stayed away from the hard drugs and sure we hung out with groupies but I would never betray Y/N like that.

Y/N: Then Camila arrived, heavily pregnant and she found Billy getting it on with some groupie. Fuck, I really tried to call her but you never want to hurt someone like that you know. Fast forward a few shows and well we found out Camila had given birth. Teddy put Billy in a rehab center. We cut the tour short and that fucked it up with the label. I think it also made me realize how incredibly lucky I was to have found Warren.

Warren: The next few months the band was idle. Y/N and I did a ton of mushrooms and we helped babysit Julia. It was actually really nice and domestic.

Y/N: I was bored out of my mind. I wasn’t suited for an idle lifestyle. When Billy decided to stop being an idiot and rejoined the band, things finally started to look up. And then we all met Daisy Jones.

“Why can’t we just have Karen or Y/N sing this stuff? If you want an edge we have that already.”

“Oh no way, Billy. I don’t sing, I’ll help with backing but that’s it.” You said as you stamped out your cigarette on the tray.

“I’m with Y/N. Plus I agree with Teddy, it will give us a new sound.” Billy stormed out of the room at that leaving you and the rest of the band to chuckle at his dramatics.

Y/N: We were all enraptured with her when she first walked into the studio. She was wearing a button down shirt and no pants. That made one hell of an entrance. And of course, Billy wasn’t pleased.

“Hi nice to meet you Daisy. I’m Y/N.” You said as she walked into the recording studio while Warren’s arm was secured around your shoulders.

“You too. Thank you all for having me.”

“You’re welcome.” Graham answered.

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road.” You and the rest of the band left the room and went into the production booth.

Y/N: She was incredible. Even if she did try to change up Billy’s song. Personally I always liked her version. After that recording session it all kind of blew up. Billy wanted to keep the song as it was and obviously he did that until Daisy showed up to one of our shows at The Whisky. We then headed out to our world tour, The Numbers tour as it was dubbed featuring Daisy Jones.

Warren: We were making money, a ton of money at that. Sold out shows everywhere we went.

Y/N: I’m pretty sure that was the tour that Karen and Graham started hooking up. Warren didn’t believe me, he had his own theories. Like he thought Bones, our lighting guy… *cue you breaking out into laughter*, sorry sorry, but geez yeah Warren was honestly the most clueless guy I had ever met and I loved him for it. Then came the show for Rolling Stone, that was an incredible show but Eddie… that man had basically become my brother at that point. What Billy did was one of the worst things he could have ever done to him.

Eddie: I couldn’t take it anymore so I had to do something.

Y/N: I understood why he smashed that guitar. I would have done the same thing. But my bass was also something I had basically built all by myself. I wasn’t going to hurt my baby.

After all of the drama, you quickly made your way over to Eddie before Jonah Berg came down. A cup of water in hand and a cigarette dangling from your lips. 

“Ed?” You walked up next to your best friend and gave him a little shoulder nudge.

“Oh hey Y/N.” His voice sounded thick with underlying rage. One that you recognized all too well.

“I’m really fucking sorry.” And you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

Y/N: When you spend a long time around someone you kind of learn their tells. Warren and I were incredibly good at reading each other. And I was just incredibly similar to Eddie, so I knew how to help him… we both have really horrible tempers. Warren and the drugs had been helping but Eddie didn’t have a Warren.

Eddie: What Y/N did after that show… she knew I didn’t want to talk about it. She became my sister at that moment.

Y/N: I think Warren and I should have probably stopped Daisy. But we were sort of mooching off her stash. We promised each other to not go on the hard stuff but I think I was getting addicted.

Warren: Drugs were a normal thing in the 70s and we were having fun! But yeah I was feeling like I was starting to depend on pills.

Y/N: I was getting sloppy with my playing so I knew I needed to start weaning myself off it. We didn’t know much about addiction back then so it was hard to stop but we did the best we could. Well for one thing we didn’t go cold turkey.

Warren: When she told me, I understood her completely, I was feeling the effects of it too. We kind of talked through it a bunch and decided we should probably lay off the heavier psychedelics. Being rockstars meant you were down to have fun but if she wasn’t happy then I was going to try and remedy that.

Eddie: I think after the whole Glasgow thing I saw Y/N become more level headed. The same with Warren. I think they made some decision to get like moderately clean. They were still smoking pot and stuff but stopped with the pills and harder stuff.

Karen: I swear I thought they were either trying to get pregnant or Y/N already was. The fact that after that Rolling Stone interview they suddenly stopped taking anything stronger than weed is probably what made me suspicious.

Y/N: I ended up sitting next to Eddie for most of the flight back, leaving Warren to sleep. I think we were the only two band members that weren’t consulted about Daisy, but I honestly didn’t give a damn. It was nice to have another girl around and… I was probably feeling the withdrawal.

Warren: When we got back to LA, I bought a one-bedroom Gibson.

Y/N: Warren bought a boat and I bought a little house which has a boat dock, it was kind of like a perfect compromise. 

Warren: I kept my boat mostly at Y/N’s house but we occasionally went on little trips. Mostly we drank beers on it and spent nights at the house. Y/N took up sports for some reason but I wasn’t going to complain, she looked hot.

Y/N: Yeah, I took up surfing, boxing and got into soccer. I was still practicing bass daily but without the band getting together much that summer, Warren and I kind of just did whatever. We smoked a lot of weed too. We were moderately clean and we were happy but I think deep down we missed life on the road.

Warren: Neither of us were ones for settling down. That’s probably why Y/N got into sports and I bought that boat. Oh and Eddie was around a lot. At first I thought he was trying to get into Y/N’s pants or something but they have this weird bond that reminded me of how my sisters and I acted.

Eddie: I visited Y/N and Warren A LOT. I don’t think they minded me being there, I basically took up permanent residence in Y/N’s spare bedroom. Y/N and I actually wrote a lot of songs during those days and we both got into surfing. And the LA surf scene was something else but I was itching for the road and they were too. So when the call came in from Graham we were all ready to leave. 

Y/N: We got together in The Rainbow and that’s where everyone just started to talk about everything and what parts they wanted to play. I mean I was already writing my bass lines so I was fine in that department. Warren and I mostly stayed out of the conversation, just smoking and making little jokes.

Graham: I think this was one of the only times that Y/N was completely silent around Billy. I mean Warren and her had always been pretty independent but they seemed like they were in their own little world. Well that was at least until Eddie stepped in.

“Look I don’t want us to turn into some kind of pop group dynamic.”

“You know what I agree with Eddie.”

“Oh so you’re finally going to talk.”

“What the hell?! I didn’t have anything to contribute and was making it easier for you and now you’re getting mad at me for actually pitching in?”

Billy: Y/N and Eddie hated me. I don’t know what I ever did to them but they got on my nerves constantly.

Daisy: Y/N was a spitfire. Eddie and her kind of had this team dynamic that was based on ganging up on Billy. Not that he didn’t deserve it but there was always underlying tension.

Y/N: I never hated Billy. He just wasn’t someone I particularly liked. He thought the world revolved around him and he loved trying to be the boss. He never once listened to my ideas, even if I had been there from basically the beginning. Eddie and I were just getting fed up.

“Okay, everyone just calm down. Billy, Eddie does have a point.” Teddy Price was always the peacemaker in these things. You scoffed and leaned in closer to Warren who had taken to rubbing circles on your arm to calm you.

Y/N: We walked out of there with a new name: Daisy Jones & The Six. I guess you can call that the beginning of the end. While Daisy and Billy went off to compose, the rest of us worked on Aurora together. By the time we were going to play it for Billy I think it sounded pretty incredible but… he hated it. You could see the revulsion on his face but Teddy convinced him to keep it. Oh but Daisy loved it! I knew I liked her for a reason.

Warren: Daisy got on really well with Y/N and I during the entire time we made Aurora. We had that easy way of suggesting things for each other and giving feedback that we all followed.

Daisy: I wish I had a relationship like those two. They respected the other person in a way I had never seen before and they were so hopelessly in love with each other. I knew it was only a short time before they would get married. I was honestly jealous of what they had.

Y/N: I never went to one of Daisy’s infamous parties. Not because I didn’t want to but because I was happier. Which sounds really fucked up cause everyone else wasn’t doing that great around that time. I think the fact that I stopped taking drugs helped A LOT. Warren and I were enjoying life so you know we obviously took the next step. We got married.

Warren: We didn’t tell anyone we were getting married. And no one really knew until the band broke up.

Y/N: We got married in a little chapel on this hill near Long Beach. I refused to do a Vegas wedding even if we were eloping.

Warren: She was insanely beautiful that day. We both showed up in pretty casual wedding clothes.

Y/N: I was wearing a long sleeve all-white prairie dress that I had bought the day we decided to do it. It wasn’t my style at all.

Warren: We spent our honeymoon at our little house. And we didn’t answer the phone for like a solid four days. Good times.

Y/N: The band was freaking out by the time we came back to rehearsals on thursday. They thought we died or something.

Eddie: We thought they went on some kind of bender or disappeared into the horizon with Warren’s boat but no they arrived on thursday with these huge smiles and a new car.

Y/N: We extended the honeymoon after the band broke up. We went to Hawaii with Warren’s boat. I don’t think that was safe but we did it anyway.

Warren: Oh, the car. Did Eddie mention that? Yeah we put some of our money together and bought an Aston Martin. You know the James Bond car.

Y/N: We had some money left over from royalties and stuff so when we pooled it we had just enough to buy that car and start putting some more of it into retirement.

Warren: We still have that car. And we still live in that same house. And Y/N hasn’t made me sell the boat yet so we’re doing pretty good.

Interviewer: So how did the band react to you two getting married?

Y/N: Well, I told Eddie first. He obviously reacted as expected.

Eddie: I was happy for her but mad that she didn’t let me be at the wedding. Y/N made up for it though when she allowed me to officiate their vow renewal.

Graham: I found out a few weeks after the band broke up. I was obviously not doing well after all the Karen drama. But I went up to their house to see them and when I walked inside I saw the rings on their fingers and the rest is history. I got to be Warren’s best man at the vow renewal, I mean it was my entire genius that got them dating in the first place, it was the least they could do.

Karen: I knew when I met up with Y/N and Camila for drinks. She showed us the ring and honestly we were both very shocked.

Camila: I didn’t think she would go through with it but wow I couldn’t imagine a better match. When she asked us to be maids of honor for her wedding, I obviously accepted.

Daisy: I didn’t go to the vow renewal. Being around Billy was going to be a trigger and I knew that. But I still meet up with them a lot. Their kids love being around mine.

Billy: Yeah I was happy for them, sure. Camila told me after they went out for dinner I think.

Y/N and Warren Rojas live in that small house on the coast of LA with their three kids, Lily, Vivienne (Viv for short) and Javier. Y/N went on to be the bassist for many well-known artists like Kate Bush, Billy Idol and even worked with members of the Beatles. They are currently celebrating their 20 year anniversary, which was marked by a vow renewal a few months ago.

this is very much self indulgent - i will be writing a bunch of angst next so prepare yourselves.

taglist: @pinkdaiisies @yesshewrites1 @lisbeth122605

#daisy jones and the six #billy dunne #graham dunne #karen sirko #daisy jones #camila dunne #daisy x billy #warren rojas #warren rhodes #eddie roundtree #taylor jenkins reid #amazon prime #warren rojas imagine #warren rojas short story #daisy jones and the six imagine #djats fanfic #warren rojas x reader #warren rhodes x reader #djats #daisy jones and the six x reader

[blackswan446]

Could you please write about yandere who's a fuckboy? At first he was just gonna play with her reader's heart but ended up being obsessed with her. Any member is fine. Thank you so much in advance if you end up writing it!

lifetime.

→ pairing: yan!jjk x reader

→ synopsis: we live for so many years, why not make them the happiest you can?

→ wc: 5362

→ cws: kidnapping/coercion, death, funeral, sexual advances

→ notes: yay my first ask! hope you enjoy, and sorry it took so long :(

part two || m.list

jungkook was a womanizer.

at least, that's what everybody else called him. he liked to think of himself as...social. sure, he got around a bit, but that's just how young men lived. especially young men like him. born with a silver spoon in his mouth, the man was set up for success from the moment he was born. who cares if that success came at the expense of a childhood with present parents and a sense of family beyond a name?

needless to say, jungkook's reputation followed him wherever he went, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing for him. it gained him a different type of respect from other men of his status, and only seemed to draw more and more women into his addictive orbit, no thanks to his looks and suave personality. assistants, secretaries, office workers, even the wives of others, you name the woman, if she was around jungkook for a while, it's more than likely they had something going on.

what a shame he never stuck around. what a shame he would lure them in, with promises of extravagant dates, fancy dresses, and luxurious houses, all to have the chandelier fall back down on them in the form of "we're just not compatible!" although they acted sad, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what they were really so heartbroken over. the life of their dreams was hanging just within their grasp, all for it to be ripped away and dangled over the head of another girl. anyone would be sad about that.

did it ever get boring?...sometimes. but there lived no fun without the dullness. for every batch of girls that cycled in and out of his life, there were always a few sticklers. sticklers, who didn't leave quietly, but put up a fight, refused to leave, spat insults at him, one even keyed his expensive sports car. these ones were usually paid a hefty sum to see their way out of his life, and what was funny, is that every single girl who was offered the money took it and left. they didn't even give it a second thought.

the idea of settling down sounded nice for about a year, until he quickly realized that it was easier said than done for a man of his rank. it would be far too easy to lock in with a woman that married him for his house, his cars, his fortune, than for him. he didn't need to be bled dry by some selfish woman who resorted to marrying rich after her failed acting career. so alone he stayed, or rather, lonely. he was rarely alone with himself. but he always had this aching feeling of loneliness in his chest.

that was, until one little choice altered his entire life.

"this is who we've narrowed down for the secretary position, sir. it was difficult, as there were a lot of highly qualified applicants, but these are my choices. i figured you could get the final say, if you don't mind." sehyun concluded, leaving the stack of folders in front of jungkook on his desk. sighing deeply, he looked at he pile, then back to the man before him. "are you sure you want me to choose?"

sejun nodded. "yes, sir. unless, of course, you don't want to." he clarified. jungkook shook his head. "no, it's fine. i've got it." he said, reaching for the pile. shutting his eyes, and shuffling the folders in his hands, he grabbed a random one from the middle and held it up. "this one." he declared, handing it back to sejun.

taking it from the male, he opened the file to read the contents. "who's our lucky winner, sejun?" he joked, leaning back in his chair lazily. "looks like it's [first name/last name]. sound alright to you?" he asked, looking to his boss for approval. he nodded. "sounds great to me. she sounds pretty." he remarked, smiling at his own words. with a courtesy laugh and farewell, sejun left, shutting the door behind him. after he was gone, jungkook looked at the pile of papers left behind, and tossed them in the garbage without thinking twice.

it's almost as if he knew he would never need them again.

tapping your foot anxiously, you glanced around the clean waiting room, observing the decorations, the paintings, and even taking note of the sweet smell of the room, the smell of a fresh flower garden in the midst of spring. the only sound that filled the room was the typing of the receptionist on her computer, along with the occasional conversation from the office behind her. the seconds passed like minutes, the minutes like hours, as you waited for in the chair the receptionist sent you to. why were you in a chair? who knows, you told her you had been hired, but she still sent you to wait amongst the clients. you certainly fit in with them, wearing your nicest clothes and cleanest shoes.

finally, you heard the call of your name from behind the desk, and looked up to see a man rushing towards you. "[name], i'm so sorry to keep you waiting. how long have you been here?" he asked apologetically. you shook your head. "oh please, don't worry about it. i haven't been here for long." you reassured him, smiling in an attempt to ease his worries. "well, welcome to jeon industries. on behalf of everyone, we're all very happy you're here." he beamed, leading you down a carpeted hallway to a small, messy office. "here, have a seat--i guess you've been doing a lot of that today," he chuckled, "and i'll get you setup with your badge and login information."

you nodded, accepting his invitation to sit down in the cushy chair in front of his desk. the office was disorganized, but not in a way that made you want to leave. it looked more like the office of someone who was always hard at work, rather than someone who just didn't bother to clean. 'so you're fresh out of college, right? how's the real world been treating you?" he asked, typing away on his computer before searching around for something on his cluttered desk. "so far, so good. i'm here, aren't i?" you replied, half-smiling. he nodded slowly. "right you are...alright, here's a temporary badge. we'll get you an official one once we can get the photographer in for your picture. and this," he said, handing you a yellow sticky note with some writing scribbled on it, "is your login information for your computer. now i'll bring you to your desk, and get you setup with your trainer, and you'll be good to go!" he said cheerily, standing up from the chair and heading for the door.

a long series of hallways led to your desk, which was situated right outside of a sleek wooden door, on which a gold plate that was engraved with the name "jeon jungkook". the door had glass on either side, that peeked into the office, where you caught a glimpse of the supposed mr. jeon, on a phone call at his desk. unfortunately, he looked up from his desk at the exact moment you were peering into the office, resulting in one second of awkward eye contact before you turned your head away and your eyes met the ones of a new girl.

"hi!" she grinned, "i'm aera. i work in accounting, right down the hall. you're [name], right?" she asked, sticking her hand out for you to shake. taking it, you introduced yourself. "yes, hello, it's nice to meet you, aera!" you said confidently, her kind manner easing your burning nerves. "i'll let you two get started here. aera, thank you for your time, and [name], if you need anything, you can come to either of us, and we'll help you out. alright?" he asked. at your nod, he gave one last smile before disappearing down the hallway.

aera clasped her hands. "well, isn't this exciting! i love when we get new people here. let's start your training, shall we?"

jungkook saw you. you tried to look away, you tried to act like you weren't staring him down, but he always saw the stares. it's not like he had any issue with it, of course. he loved when people looked at him, especially pretty girls such as yourself. and to think that you were just going to be sitting outside, doing nothing else but running around for his sake! he had been looking for a new distraction from his work, his life, his everything. and it looks like he just found it.

three months had passed, three months of your little desk, new friendships, and great work. the job was going great for you; of course, it was work, so it did have its downsides, but the good far outweighed the bad. your coworkers welcomed you in with open arms, despite your young age and inexperience, they respected you and valued your opinions, which alleviated about 80% of your worries.

as for the job itself, it was great. all you really did was secretary work, like scheduling meetings, booking dinner reservations, and calling other businessmen, all for the ceo.

jeon jungkook.

what an interesting man.

right off the bat, jungkook was very...friendly...to you. the first day you were there, without aera by your side to help you, he moseyed on out of his office and right to your desk, taking the opportunity to "personally introduce" himself to you, and by that, he meant saying his name and staring at you like a piece of meat as he carried on a meaningless conversation.

from then on, he was always just around. wherever you were, he always seemed to find himself. for a while, you thought he was just being welcoming. but when it didn't let up after the first month, you started to think that there were some sort of ulterior motives at play. no ceo has any reason to be getting his secretary gifts every week, nor any reason to grab the small of her waist every time he passes behind her. the questions in your head came to an end when aera revealed the young man's real self, in a serious conversation over some hot breakroom coffee.

"he's a major...manwhore!" she revealed, going on to recount all the numbers of women she had heard him being with in her few years there. "he's been with virtually every woman here." you looked at her in disbelief, and you didn't need to ask the question for her to give you an answer. she nodded slowly, staring into her mug. "i'm not proud of it..i was young, and i liked the attention. i feel so stupid now." she admitted.

it all made sense to you now, the touching, the presents, the prolonged conversations about the lobby decorations. it all clicked. he only saw you as another trophy to win and put into his glass case with all the other girls he had tainted. you wanted to be shocked, but with someone of his authority and resources, it'd be a lie to say you expected differently. it was a shame, sure, but at least you knew now.

jungkook, on the other hand, had no clue what your problem was. it didn't usually take him this long to seduce a girl. what more did he have to do? he did everything he knew of--gifts, of pretty flowers and expensive candies, having long and invested conversations together, he even resorted to the subtle-touching method. how long was this going to take?! did you have a boyfriend, or were you saving it for marriage, or were you just a prude?

as frustrating as this loss was, especially for someone who always won, there was something strange about it that he...liked? he didn't know either. but it was oddly addicting, the challenge of it. the unfamiliarity of it. of not being given into at the first smile. the need to actually try, even if it was for something so shallow,

he just liked trying.

the night had come, and left a wash of black over everything that was once bright and clear. you could see the night sky from your window, and the stars glittered like moonlight on the ocean. throwing your things into your bag sloppily, in a hurry to get out out of the office and into the cool nighttime air. you were scheduled to have left an hour ago, but a cold had set you back a few days last week, and you needed to catch up on the work that was left waiting for you.

slinging your purse over your shoulder and pushing in your chair, you walked to jungkook's door to bid him farewell for the evening. as grossed out as you were by him, it would be rude to not say goodbye to your boss, at least, you thought it was. poking your head in the door, you barely got the word 'goodbye' out before noticing something strange.

jungkook wasn't hunched over his desk, or talking on his phone, or even on his computer. instead of bidding you a cheeky goodbye, he was standing at his large window, which overlooked the city and its bright lights. furrowing you brows, you debated going further inside to ask what was wrong, but the young man had already picked up on your presence, so you couldn't back out now.

"[name]," he said, not in his normal flirtatious tone, "heading out?" he glanced at the time on his watch. "i guess so. it's pretty late." you took a few steps into his office, staying close to the door. "yeah, i was. but are you alright? i saw you just...standing there." you asked quietly, nervous that your simple question had overstepped some type of boundary.

he nodded quickly. "yeah, yeah. i'm alright, thanks...just thinking, i guess." he said, turning his body to face you entirely. you cocked your head to the side. "about what? anything in particular?" you asked, mentally slapping yourself. this is probably exactly what he wants to happen, you thought, you were being too kind to him. but you couldn't exactly leave now, you were too far in.

he sighed. "honestly? yeah. i was just thinking...what if i'm not fit for this? i mean, today, i noticed that our revenue numbers have gone down, and not by just a little bit. i mean, i hear all the time that it's normal for companies to fluctuate in their numbers, but nobody ever talks about it. and it scares me. it makes me think that i'm doing something wrong." he confessed, looking down at his shiny leather shoes.

"i see." was all you could say. what else was there? were you supposed to give him business advice? "and i have my father breathing down my neck, always reminding me that i need to have this big, important life, that i need to get married, and run a corporation perfectly, and learn french, and piano, and racquetball, and all this other bullshit, and i can barely keep my head above water!" he complained, having shifted from the window to his desk chair. he chuckled slightly, after a moment. "i'm sorry, [name], god, i get asked one question, and i go off on a tangent. you don't deserve that."

you smiled softly. "don't worry, mr. jeon. i'm the one who asked. as for everything else you said...nobody said you need to do it all at once. you're young, sir. you have a lot of life ahead of you. you have plenty of time to do all of those things, and even more things, that you can choose. you're not running out of time. and i'm sorry you feel like you are." you consoled, scolding yourself for the cliché advice you just gave.

instead of scoffing, he nodded his head slowly. "i guess you're right. i mean, i'm only 28. i won't be going anywhere anytime soon." he mused. you smiled, this time more broadly. "you've given me a lot to think about, [name]. thank you. seriously." he said, his signature grin returning to his face. with a quiet goodbye, you scurried out of the office, eager to get out into the fresh air, and away from the incidental therapy session you just had with your boss.

the next day, you walked in, and as you approached your desk, you were greeted by the biggest arrangement of flowers you had ever seen in a vase. you didn't even need to read the card to know where they came from.

that day at lunch, a pair of dainty knuckles went up to meet the sleek wood of the door. a flat voice from behind it admitted the person to the room, which they entered and shut the door behind them.

"mr. jeon."

glancing up from the paper in his hands, he met aera's sharp eyes. "aera. what can i do for you?" he asked, turning his attention back down to his work. she moved forward, to sit in one of the sleek leather chairs in front of his desk. "well, you can tell me what you and that little assistant of your have going on, for starters."

looking up, this time with much more intensity than before, he stared into her brown eyes. "what are you talking about?" he demanded. she laughed, as if it were the stupidest question she had ever heard. "don't play dumb. you know exactly what i'm talking about. you and that little puritan that sits outside of your office all day?" she laughed again, "always sending her flowers and that other bullshit. i mean, you're not a stupid man. what could you possibly see in her? she's obviously a prude, obviously inexperienced, and so boring! what a sad excuse for a woman! why keep chasing after that..." she paused, standing up and circling around the desk to where jungkook was sat, seating herself on the arm of the chair, "when you could have...something so much better, and all you have to do is say the word?" she whispered, leaning in close to his ear.

clenching his jaw, jungkook turned his head away from aera. "get out." he seethed, refusing to say anymore than that. she scoffed, standing up and placing her hand on her hip. "i--you cannot be serious. don't be shy, sir, i know you want this. all you have to do is tell me yes."

"okay, well, i'm telling you to get out, before i call the front desk and have you escorted out, by security." he boomed, standing up from his chair, sending it flying into the shelf behind him, "and don't bother coming back. not today, not tomorrow, not next week. just pack your shit and leave."

mouth agape, and standing there awkwardly until jungkook motioned for her to get out, aera stormed out, heels thumping on the floor. "unbelievable. un-fucking-believable!" she shouted, slamming the door behind her as she left. she stormed past your desk and as she walked by, spat "he's yours, you little bitch."

confused, you watched her back disappear down the corridor and into her office, where she noisily started slamming things around. jungkook came out of his office, rushing to your desk as he heard her shout at you. her obnoxious throwing and swearing could be heard as she grabbed all her belongings and left out of the back entrance.

looking at jungkook, with whom you were still not totally comfortable with, he patted your shoulder softly as he talked to you. "are you alright? i don't know what her problem is. did she do anything to you?' he asked. after assuring him you were okay, he went back into his office. you wondered all afternoon what she meant by "he's yours".

ever since the night you had caught him all stressed out, he seemed to be different. like he held a higher respect for you now. instead of passing by you by grabbing your waist, he politely excused himself. instead of extending conversations about nothing, he asked you genuine questions, and replied with interested answers. as for the gifts...they didn't really stop. but his shift in behavior was nice, you appreciated the new high regard he held you in.

as for jungkook, he had stopped looking at you like a piece of ass. he didn't see you like that anymore. see, it wasn't the first time he had been asked if he was alright by a woman. it had happened plenty of times. it also wasn't the first time he had answered with that exact thing: the fear of not living up to what he needed to be, that ate away at him every single day. but it was the first time he had gotten an actual response. not a one-word answer, not an 'oh', not a subject change. an actual response, with substance and meaning. it was weird, such a small action was the most heard and seen he had ever felt in his whole life. furthermore, it inspired hope, something that he had long given up on. and it was fucking euphoric.

needless to say, he was smitten. maybe it was destiny, or maybe his standards were just low. either way, he had never felt this way for anyone before, and couldn't imagine feeling it for anyone else. so naturally, he didn't take too kindly to someone coming in and disrespecting you like that, much less one of your closest friends! through his anger, he couldn't help but wonder, why? was she jealous, because she knew that an ugly beast hid behind her mask, and there was no changing it? or was she just that shallow?

whatever her reasons, jungkook didn't really care. all he knew is that she was a problem, one that took priority over any other issue he had. she needed to be gone, not just from the company, but from society. your heart was too golden, too shiny and beautiful to float around, unprotected from the tarnish of others.

oh, you. what would happen with you? it was already decided, at least, in his mind, that you were his and he was yours. it was that simple. you just didn't know yet. that wasn't what the issue was here. you would no doubt be upset over the tragic loss of your best friend, but who would hold you as you cried? who would hug you as you struggled to fall asleep? who would be there for you in your hour of need? jungkook would, obviously. the roles in your life were open, the role of boyfriend, best friend, provider. and he had enough love to fill all of those spots to the max, plus more left over to shower you in, to drown you in. what better person could there be?

the decision was made, he knew what had to happen, and he knew he would get away with it. normally, he didn't like to risk dirtying his hands with anything even remotely like this, but for you, he'd crawl his way through the mud. besides, what harm was there in getting your hands dirty, as long as you washed the muck away?

the news had hit you like a freight train. aera, one of your very best friends, struck while walking on the street late at night, by a drunk driver. how awful! and just that day, she had gotten into a conflict at work...the poor girl. she was so young, too. she had so much going for her, so much to wait for in life.

putting on your nicest black outfit, combing your hair out, and grabbing your plain black umbrella, you parked your car on the road across from the cemetery. your umbrella came in handy, as it was a grey day, rain drizzling from the sky, almost like God was crying right along with you. faces, familiar and not, all flooded to the open grave.

looking around, you recognized a few coworkers, and most notable, jungkook. he had on a black suit, one that looked nicer than his everyday ones, and was standing around with a few people. he didn't look like he was sad, but more solemn. like he was only there because it was the right thing to do.

you shied away from the crowd, preferring to stick to yourself and process the loss on your own. you visited the casket, which had the lid shut up tight, and you just stood there for a minute. memories of aera flooded your mind, from the first cheerful greeting she gave you to the final words she hurled at you as she stormed away. who knew that would be the last time you ever saw each other?

as you mourned, you felt a hand snake around your waist, rubbing your side gently. "hey, [name]. how are you holding up?" jungkook asked quietly, leaning into your ear as he did so. you shook your head. "i'm fine, it's just..so shocking. i mean, we just saw her." you said, not totally believing the words that left your own mouth.

he nodded. "mmh, i get that. it's horrifying, isn't it? absolutely..horrifying." he said, looking down at the polished brown casket and the spread of flowers that sat on top of it. "hey, you've been standing in the rain for a while. aren't you cold? here, take this." he offered, taking the soft suit jacket off and hanging it over your shoulders. "how about we go sit down? the service is going to start soon." he said, carefully leading you to two chairs underneath the tent, away from the cold drops of rain that were hitting your skin.

you thanked him quietly, and before you could do anymore, the service started. the array of speeches and memories shared in aera's honor brought tears to your eyes, and you couldn't help the few that rolled down your cheeks. the whole time, jungkook kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, at some points even pulling you closer to him and almost cradling you in his arms. admittedly, it was nice to have someone there for you as you hurt, even if it was him.

the service ended, seemingly as quickly as it started. the crowd dispersed, some going up to say their final goodbye to aera. you and your fragile heart couldn't bear to do it, not again, and after leaving jungkook's suit jacket on your chair, you slowly started to make your way back to the car, wiping your tears on your hands as you did so.

"[name]!" you heard a familiar voice call. turning around, jungkook, suit jacket in hand, walked swiftly towards you, arm outstretched. "come on. i'll take you home." he said, reaching to grab your shoulder. you shook your head. "thank you, but my car's parked here. and thanks for the jacket. i'll see you at work." you replied, trying to turn and leave.

"i don't think you should be driving. you know, with...everything. your mind is foggy. it's dangerous to drive like that. come on, i promise i don't mind." he pleaded, a desperate look crossing his features. hesitantly, you obliged with his request, and he wrapped his arm around you once again as you walked to his fancy car. some heads turned, and there were some whispers, and your face burned because of it, but jungkook didn't seem to notice.

his car was nice, and undoubtedly expensive. with only two seats, it looked like something a movie star would zoom up to a party with. getting in, and buckling your seatbelt, you heard the door locks click, and as the car started up, you felt your grief fire up again, but this time, it manifested in your stomach, specifically, a pit feeling, similar to nerves.

"don't you need my address?" you asked him as he took off down the road. "i have your address already." he said, "you know, from employee records." he clarified, smiling at you innocently. there wasn't much conversation. only the sounds of the asphalt beneath you and the feelings of devastation at aera's death heightening in your stomach, now giving you sweaty palms and a racing heart. all you needed was to get home, to your shower, your pajamas, and your bed.

it was only after jungkook drove past your road that you realized the feeling in your stomach might be a bit more than pure grief. "sorry, but you drove past my road." you informed him. he shook his head. "no, [name]. we're not going there. i have something i need to tell you, and i really need you to stay calm, because it'll make it a whole lot easier for you. got that?" he asked, putting his hand on your thigh and making mindless patterns with his thumb.

"what are you talking about? i'd really just like to go back home, jungkook, my house. please." you beseeched. he shook his head again. "listen to me, baby, just listen, yeah? you are going home--well, not your home, but we're going to our home. sound good? i don't want you to worry. i know this is weird, but i promise, you'll love it. okay? stay calm, for me." he explained, slowly, as if you were a child. tears welled up in your eyes all over again. "but why? i don't want to!" you cried.

"why? why do you think, darling, because i'm bored?" he chuckled at his own sick joke, "because, i love you. and i'm the only one you have, now that aera's gone. i know you're sad about that, but trust me, it was for the best. if you heard what she said, you would hit the floor, baby." he said, he laughed at it, as if it were some type of hilarious joke.

it didn't take a genius to figure out what he was implying. disgusted, you froze in your seat, breath catching in your throat. "you...don't tell me...you did that..to her?" you choked out, barely able to annunciate the words. he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "what can i say? she wasn't good for you, darling, that's what you need to understand. she was such a hateful person. she deserved it." he assured you, voice calm and even.

vision blurring, whether it was from the tears or dizziness, you weren't sure, but you clawed at the handle of his car. "let me out. right now. just let me go, and i won't tell anyone. please." you begged, desperately looking around for anything to help you. suddenly, you felt the car stop abruptly in the middle of the road. jungkook leaned over, hand unmoving from your thigh, and spoke directly into your ear. "try to get out of this car again, and so help me god, i will not hesitate to do to the both of us what i did to aera. you wouldn't want that, would you, sweetheart?" he asked, voice sweet and innocent, as he leaned back, and even had the audacity to give you a kiss on the cheek and smile at you as he did so.

slowly, you sat back in your seat, hands folded in your lap. as much as you wanted to, you had no doubt that jungkook would run the both of you off the road if you tried anything else stupid. your ideas for escape started diminishing as more and more trees and fields filled your vision, and the buildings of the city faded away.

"listen to me. i got us a beautiful house in the country. it's huge, and we have anything and everything you could ever want. i'll keep on going to work, and all you have to do is stay home, and wait for me. okay? be there for me when i get home. spend time with me. be my wife. and whatever happens, happens." he told you sternly. "you know, [name], i think you were right. we have so much life left to live, both of us. we have decades left. and what better way to spend it,

than just the two of us, together?"

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere #yandere jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #asks

[appendectomy]

the house/cuddy relationship is also so interesting because a big part of the essence of 'doom' that the writers give their relationship is also based in direct comparison to the not-doomed-ness of house/wilson. there are so many moments where it feels to me that the writers are grabbing me by the shoulders, shaking me and going 'look!!! look at them and compare them look at how different these two dynamics are'.

one of the most obvious examples of this is in 7x09 when house is trying to get out of hanging out with wilson and going to cuddy's birthday dinner at the same time. cuddy outright asks 'you have to choose one of us,' and house replies 'i choose wilson'. apart from making me giggle, these lines also serve the very obvious purpose of not just being about where house would prefer to spend a thursday evening. it's quite blatant foreshadowing about the fact that, at the end of everything, house always prefers to choose wilson and is more capable of being there for him than he is for anyone else, including romantic partners and especially including cuddy.

the next big example of this that struck me is in 7x15 when cuddy is in surgery. this is an almost word-for-word recreation of the scenario in 6x10 where wilson went into surgery. they both want house to be there, and house struggles to show up both times. we even get this wonderful visual parallel between the two, which is something i've noticed has been talked about a little by other people on here, and so is definitely something I imagine the writers thought about too. with 6x10:

and 7x15:

the key difference between these two situations is house being sober in one, and on drugs in the other. house can be there for wilson and emotionally support him while also being sober, but he cannot do the same for cuddy. this comparison i think is such a clear communication that not only is house's relationship with wilson easier for house to maintain than his relationship with cuddy, but that it is also better for him mentally. with wilson, there isn't an anxiety that he isn't good enough for him the way there is with cuddy, and this just fundamentally fosters a better environment for him as an addict.

this says a lot about house/wilson, but it also says a lot about house's approach to romance versus friendship in general. he places so much more importance on the emotional challenges of a romantic relationship than he does platonic. he spends the whole episode of 7x15 practically agonising over wether cuddy will be ok or not, whereas he spends most of 6x10 telling wilson he's an idiot. he seems to doom himself in romantic relationships by creating so much of his own anxiety: he worries about getting it right, being the man cuddy needs him to be, doing what a good partner should, and it causes him to be unable to actually perform any of these actions without the crutch of being high. this in turn underminines the genuineness of any attempt to be better that he makes in cuddy's eyes. i don't think any of the emotional demands cuddy makes of house are unreasonable at all, but because house is such an emotionally stunted and volatile person he can't approach the very normal expectations of a romantic relationship in any sort of healthy way. the only relationships he can maintain are unconventional ones that don't have these expectations, like his friendship with wilson.

the next example, and the one that is most likely a little bit of a reach, is also in 7x15, specifically in the few dream sequences cuddy has that feature wilson. in the first, she imagines house and wilson as rachel's adoptive fathers (which i've already written a little bit about here if you're interested). then she has another dream set in a black-and-white 50s sitcom where she is the breadwinner, house is the housewife, and wilson is the mailman/milkman (not completely sure which of these he is, but he's definitely one of them). in both of these situations, wilson is the proverbial 'other woman': he takes the place of house's domestic partner in one of the dreams, and in the other he's the mailman/milkman to house's housewife, which traditionally in media is a comedic character pairing that involves the housewife cheating on her working husband with the mailman/milkman. i doubt this symbolism is really that intentional, and i don't think that it's meant to imply any sort of genuine romantic coding between house and wilson, it's probably just a couple of early 2000s gay jokes. but if you critically look at these instances, you can begin to extrapolate a sense that in house's romantic relationships, wilson is always hovering in the background. wilson is always the proverbial 'other woman', someone who's relationship with house is just as important and very likely also easier to maintain for house, just as the inverse is true for wilson as established by testimony from his ex-wife bonnie. i mainly think this inclusion of wilson in these dreams and the deliberate role he plays just serves to remind the viewer that while house and cuddy's relationship is rocky and uncertain, house and wilson's is pretty much constant and inevitable.

the last comment i have on this is about the scene in 7x23 where house crashes his car into cuddy's home. i think you can pretty easily compare wilson and cuddy situationally in this scene: house is putting cuddy in immense danger (though not actually intending on hurting her), whereas in comparison he yells at wilson to get out of the car before he does it. to me, there's an obvious difference there - a deliberate effort to endanger a person vs a deliberate effort to remove a person from danger. and in both instances, house is intentionally causing the danger. it very strikingly reminded me of the scene in 3x07 where house tells wilson to get out of their hotel room before he does something that could incriminate wilson. he specifically tells wilson 'maybe i don't wanna push this til it breaks' in regard to their friendship. house is very cognizant of not pushing wilson away completey, not squandering their relationship once and for all with his dangerous behaviour. but with cuddy, he gets to a point where he actively burns the bridge. the difference to me is sad and clear: house is willing and able to maintain his relationship with wilson. he is not willing and able to maintain his relationship with cuddy. and by comparing the two, each dynamic becomes clearer.

#house md #um.. hiii :)

[vaguely-yandere]

i feel like there aren't enough sensitive yanderes.

the ones who observe you from more of a distance, not minding it. they prefer it this way, actually. they have issues... controlling themselves around you. it's hard to, when you're just so perfect. they'll make they're move when they can stop the intense trembling and sweating and panting that comes from getting too close. for now, they'll have to stick with exposure therapy.

exposure therapy started off, well, small. as it should. at first, it was taking a drink out of a public trashcan when you were done with it (you're so perfect, you don't even litter when you think no one is there. im there, of course, but you don't know that. not yet.) and just holding it. the cup was still warm from your heat... and probably the fact it was a warm drink but it was probably your heat. your heat. that alone was enough to make their knees shake. they just couldn't help it!

next was going into a store and trying on the exact clothes you had tried on only moments before. they couldn't actually get the clothes on but they could smell just a faint whiff of you. they spent the next hour in the dressing room, just smelling the clothes until they could memorize your scent. pin point what deodorant you wore that day. (are you out of shampoo? i can't smell it around the neckline. but that does give me an idea for my next therapy session..) they bought the clothes. they didn't really have any use for them other the fact they vaguely smelled like you and, well, they assumed you wore them at some point so that made them valuable. they sit folded next to your discarded drink, which was covered in kiss marks and dried saliva.

next exposure session was a lot easier than the others at first but the end was.. overwhelming. they bought your exact brand of shampoo and conditioner, deodorant, perfume/cologne if you owned any, everything that carried a scent. makeup products, laundry detergent, air fresheners, candles, everything and anything to make their house smell like yours. at first, it was euphoric to inhale and smell what they assumed your home must smell like... but your home wouldn't smell like a bath and body works candle. or air freshener. or your laundry detergent. it would smell like human. sweat, dust, dirt, skin cells, it would smell like you, why doesn't it smell like you, they bought all of this stuff and it still doesn't smell like you! how do they replicate the smell of you without you? (i can't- i can't get it right, it's not right, nothing smells right, it doesn't smell like me or like you, why doesn't it smell like you, i tried so hard, i was sure i got everything right and it would smell exactly like your home but it doesn't, i know this isn't what your home smells like, i can't bring you home to something that smells so.. WRONG!) they ended up crying into the week old clothes they bought, desperately trying to smell you and failing, which gave them the motivation for their next "session".

they needed some place to get close to you without drawing attention with their excessive sweating, panting and desperate whines from overwhelming feeling of pure love but they also needed to be close enough to smell you. now, what better way to accomplish those things than to get something of yours? their plan was perfect. simple. just open your window to get a whiff and be on their way! (just a whiff, i promise) but.. you wouldn't be home for a while.. they were right there, they could just pop in really quickly, maybe take some pictures? nothing big! just some pictures and a sniff! (ill be so fast, i won't even be there long enough to leave footprints!) but. the smell. the warmth left behind. the pure feeling of you surrounding them, it was too addictive and they felt like they were overdosing. shaking, panting, whimpering, legs pressed tightly together as they gently touched your bed (still so warm.. you did leave just recently. did you know how cold i was feeling? is this a sign..? you did this for me, right?), feeling the fabric under their fingertips, completely entranced by the way it moved and folded under the slight pressure. it felt like you were holding their hand, luring them into bed for just a quick snuggle, just one quick snuggle and then you'll both leave, right? they wiped their mouth, taking a deep breath to steady themselves. it didn't work but the black dots that had been playfully floating around the edge of their vision faded. they raised their phone and started taking pictures. unsteady, shakey, slightly blurry pictures but they didn't need to be exact, they just needed to be able to see your room layout so they could memorize your style, what things brought you comfort, how you organized things so that when you eventually moved in, it would be less stressful and they're sure you won't miss this old shirt under your bed or these strands of hair or this pair of underwear at the bottom of your laundry basket or this pencil or this hair tie or this bit of dust or this small decoration. (you didn't even notice i licked your toothbrush or kissed your pillow.. in fact, you seemed to sleep even better tonight.. do my indirect kisses relax you, my love? ill be sure to give you more.)

#yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere #vague yandere #sensitive yandere

[space-rot]

Something Stupid

paring: carmen “carmy” berzatto x reader

word count: 2.0k

genre: fluff, its all jokes bbyy

warning(s): smoking? Its carmy, what else does he do in his free time

summary: when you find peace in the small moments

a/n: better call saul and the bear? together? Well, don't mind if i do. anyways, i do not smoke, i do not condone smoking…but its kinda sexy ngl (thx @officialjimmybuffet for the images, smooches)

There is something so inherently nasty about cigarettes.

The unnatural smoke that burns your eyes, the chemicals that collect under your fingernails, and the smell that manages to leave an everlasting scent on your clothes.

You were never a smoker– somehow managing to avoid the advances of the punk outcasts trying to sell their self-rolled cigs in the back of your highschool parking lot for a dollar each. Sure, there was the typical uncle who seemed, and smelled, like he went through two or three packs a day. The faded voice of a family friend warning the children of the dangers of “the cancer stick,” and that smoking one was equivalent to signing your soul away to the devil.

A scoff leaves you, smirking as you free said cancer stick from its confinement. You were never one to heed the advice from strangers who believed they knew you better than you knew yourself anyway. Bringing it up to your lips and quickly lighting the end, basking in the warmth the small flame brings to battle the chill of the Chicago air.

It's not as though you didn’t know the risks that the habit came with, you are not ignorant to science and health officials; but as you inhale the first hit and can practically swim in the warmth of the filtered tobacco as it fills your lungs, you damn the professionals and all their holier and wiser than thou bullshit. But as you go for a second drag, the door to the alleyway opens and you’re greeted with unruly blonde hair, light blue eyes, and the face of a man who looks like he got the shit kicked out of him.

Because he has, you think, blowing smoke from your nose at the thought. Ever since the transition from The Beef to The Bear, things in and out of the kitchen have gotten easier, but that doesn't mean a headache doesn’t follow. Signing up to work in a kitchen comes with its ups and downs, mostly downs. But those scarce highs are filled with such intense feelings of euphoria, that it is the true addiction that should be studied.

Carmy walks towards you, quick rushed steps, leaning on the wall next to you, close enough to ensure that your arms are touching. A sigh leaving his lips as he rests his weight on the wall, raking a hand through his hair only to continue to drag it down his face. You can see him turn towards you from your peripheral, but you’re looking forward because looking at him means kitchen talk and no matter how long you’ve known Carmy you know that every break talk will just lead to him ranting and raving and you're on a smoke break for a reason and–

The cigarette is plucked from your lips, fingers decorated with SOU disappear with your cigarette just as quickly as they appear, bringing it up to their owners lips for one hit, a second, before he’s placing the stick back exactly where he stole it from.

To say you’re surprised would be a lie. This isn’t the first nor will it be the last time Carmy does this. Hell, he’s the whole reason why you kissed your lungs away in the first place.

You’ve known Carmy for a few years now, having met at that bastard of a restaurant in New York. You weren’t even supposed to be there, having worked at a restaurant adjacent to it, but they were low on staff and the GMs were close enough to send their chefs back and forth when need be.

It was moments before dinner service was supposed to begin, every chef taking last minute precautions to ensure they don't get chewed out by the newly established CDC, Carmen Berzatto. You don’t even know what he looks like yet, the kitchen is doused in pure silence that even asking someone what he looks like seems like a distraction worthy of a mental breakdown from a fellow chef. Even though your check didn’t come from this place, you prepared your station as well as you would in your own restaurant because that’s what being professional means; treating anywhere you cooked with the most respect.

Stepping foot outside and leaning against the wall, you began digging through your pockets for your phone, cursing to yourself when you realized you left it next to your station.

“Hey, uh, I got an extra smoke if you want,” says a voice coming from your right. Turning in its direction, you find a long, blonde-haired man sitting on a milk crate. A cigarette is dangling from his fingers, the smoke swirling dangerously close to his eyes before he brings the cigarette back to his lips, your eyes skimming on the tattoos that decorate his arms and biceps.

“Uh, I’m sorry what,” you question back, having forgotten the original prompt said by him. 

“A smoke,” he holds out a carton of cigarettes towards you, “that’s what you're looking for right?” The box is white but decoded with a strip of blue running through the center. The look he gives you is so inviting, but there's only one problem:

You don’t smoke.

Not once has a cigarette grazed your lips. Not once have you been possessed by the ghost of defiance and inhaled the breath of the devil. Not once have you been wrapped in the haze of smoke.

But the look of desperation that’s hidden behind his eyes, the subtle look asking to not be left alone in the back alley of the world’s best restaurant, is enough for you to reach out and grasp your one way ticket to demise–and oh how right you were. How could one assume that a measly little cigarette would alter the rest of your life.

The physics of it seemed easy enough: inhale and then exhale, breath in and then breath out, anybody can do it. So you take the cigarette out of the box, and lean back on the wall, inspecting it like it would sprout legs and run away.

“Hey, uh, do you have–,” the flame of a lighter is already being cupped by his hand. You bend over, close enough to this man to smell the left over nicotine mixed with the atmosphere of the kitchen. He doesn’t look away, mesmerized by the way your eyes drift to the flame to ensure the end of the cigarette is lit, the slight tilt of your head towards the heat. Even when you blink back up to him he doesn’t look away, he’s almost afraid to breathe in this moment, worried it’ll be another thing he manages to fuck up.

But then you're inhaling and–

“Holy shit are you alright,” there’s a hand on your back, patting with a gentle force with the hopes of expelling your coughing fit. “Here, have some water,” he hands you his container of water, because what kitchen has bottled water?

Taking a sip, you contemplate a universe where you can save this situation. How does one manage to fuck up this badly? All of the movies make it look so easy, but the burning of your lungs say otherwise. But the warm hand on your back doesn’t move once you stop coughing, and you turn to see worried eyes meet your own. A beat passes, then two, then a scoff leaves your lips as you shake your head in disbelief.

“Sorry, I uh,” you scramble for something, anything, to save your pride, your dignity. Here is this incredibly attractive man willing to give you a small piece of his world, and you spat it back out in his face. He must be thinking the worst demeaning thoughts, because what chef isn’t thinking in the worst way possible? Here is some person who can’t even inhale properly, what makes them think they can handle the smoke in the kitchen? Coughing up a storm all because of what, one drag of a cigarette and the chef needs to tap out–

“No it's okay, I know these ones taste bad as shit, but they’re the only pack I had on me,” he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand (the other is resting still on your back, not that either of you noticed), “I normally have this other brand, y’know a little sweeter and not as bitter and uh, yeah sorry about that,” he trails off, looking sheepish at the thought of giving out a shitty cigarette brand.

You are given two choices now: one, you can lie and agree that the brand is shit, keeping a small amount of pride and dignity, or two, come clean and admit to this total stranger that this is the first time you’ve held a cigarette and you only agreed because he looked pretty.

A former option has never looked more inviting.

So you lie, you lie out of your ass and agree that the brand is shit and that you have to get back to your station. Packing in a joke about how fucking insane the CDC apparently is and that you’re glad to only be here for the one night. You wish him luck for the night, he gives a small chuckle and wishes you luck as well.

It was five minutes later that someone pointed out that the CDC just walked in from the back and you realize that he was the same man whose cigarette you coughed up.

But that was years ago, and now here you are, with the same CDC behind his new restaurant, a now shared cigarette between your lips. You followed Carmy throughout his time in New York, you followed him to his brother’s sandwich shop, and you will follow him throughout his new endeavors at The Bear. Following him wasn’t always easy, if anything there are more lows than highs, but it’s the small moments like these that make everything worth it.

“You wanna know something funny,” he asks, stealing the cigarette again.

“What?” 

“This is the same brand I had you smoke the first time we met.”

Pulling the pack out of your pocket, you let out a hum of acknowledgement, “holy shit you’re right,” the blue stripe around the box stands out against your palm.

You turn to look at him for the first time since he’s stood next to you, backs against the harsh brick of the building.

He’s already staring, a knowing smirk growing across his face, “Thought you hated that brand?”

Stealing the cigarette back, you let out a last puff of smoke, “Only hated it cause you were the one to give it to me.” You finish the cigarette, throwing it onto the concrete and stomping it out, “Come on Berzatto, this place won’t run itself,” you call out with a small wave thrown over your head, walking back towards the kitchen.

Carmy laughs, knowing that you hate the story of how you two met. He can’t help but tease ever since he found out he gave you your first cigarette by accident. You didn’t know anything about different brands, just that you found the man giving you one attractive. Carmy only knows this after taking you home after a drunken night with Sydney, you babbling about anything and everything that it took him a few hours to put the whole story together.

Of course he feels bad at certain times, such as watching you pat yourself down for a smoke only to find that you finished your last pack the other day. But Carmy is always there to give you one of his, whether it be his last one or not, only if you two can share it with a small moment together outside.

And so he walks back inside, looking forward to the next smoke break, and the one after that, until his lungs couldn’t handle anymore, only to keep going if yours haven't given out yet.

#carmen berzatto #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fic

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 || billy knight x nurse!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || during his time in hospital, billy couldn't help but fancy the sweet but headstrong american nurse taking care of him. it would've been harmless if it weren't for your own growing crush on your patient: the quiet, gentle man with those brown eyes that made your heart flutter when he looked at you like that.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 9.5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ ONLY!!, male masturbation and brief oral m receiving), medical ethics violation so kinda dubious consent but trust me it is very much wanted, fluff, some angst, touchstarved billy, american reader, mentions/discussions of psychosis and other psychotic patients, brief mentions of SA, hopeless romantic billy, yeah just lots of sweetness with some filth in the middle

"It's important that you stay calm."

That was what made him look at you, scared and confused, before he seemed to finally notice the hand you'd laid on his shoulder to try to soothe him: that was always a risk, touching them without permission, but he'd woken up with a start and been so clearly upset and disoriented, you didn't know what else to do.

Thankfully, as he looked at your hand on him, he stilled, hesitantly leaning back onto the propped-up bed.  The doctors thought it would be better for him if the bed was partially upright while he began to exit his coma, preventing too much blood pooling near the wound at his chest.

You took your hand away as he stilled, and he looked around the white-and-beige room.  "Where am I?" he asked.

"Saint Anne's, South London," you answered.  He raised an eyebrow at you and you figured why he asked.

"Did you think you'd somehow woken up in America?  Because of my accent?" you snorted.

He blinked self-consciously; "Err— I guess not."

"You wouldn't be the first," you assured him.

"What's an American nurse doing in London anyway?" he wondered.

"Not much," you shrugged, "just healing the sick, feeding the hungry— generally being a saint."

He smirked a bit, and you smiled at him in return.

“I’ll be your day nurse while you’re here,” you explained, “so if you need something, you can press this button here— and it’ll be me that comes, most of the time, if I’m not too busy and have to send somebody else.  Anything you need, I’ll do my best to help you, alright?”

A moment’s hesitation was followed by a nod, and he seemed too nervous to even look right at you— he would take these little glances over you, then up at your face, then back down to his bed again.  He wiped his fist under his nose quickly.

“William, is it?”

“Erm, Billy,” he corrected.  “Jus’ Billy.”

He cleared his throat dryly as his voice cracked, and you tilted your head.  “Would you like some water?”

He nodded again, and thankfully you already had a cup of chilled water ready for him— the big kind with a handle and straw, and markings on the side so you could monitor how well he was hydrating.  You picked it up and held it for him, guiding the bendy straw to his chapped lips so he could drink.

You knew already what kind of patient he’d be— the kind who didn’t like to ask you for anything, so you had to figure it out on your own.  There were definitely more like that here than back in America where you’d first started nursing; patients in the States seemed to have a much easier time asking for what they needed.  Here, there was usually some rigamarole to get them to admit they needed something— unless what they needed was painkillers, everyone’s pretty vocal about that.

“Is that better?” you asked quietly as you took the cup away, and Billy swallowed as he nodded.  “I’ll set it here where you can reach it, just be careful with that IV,” you explained.  “How’s your pain?  Is your chest hurting you?”

“N-no, it’s fine,” he promised, “can’t feel a thing… I’m guessing that won’t last long, though.”

You nodded in agreement.  “They’ve still got you on the good stuff.  They’ll switch you to Tylenol by the end of the day,” you explained.

“Afraid I’ll become an addict?” he assumed.

“Not quite,” you chuckled, “afraid you’ll get too constipated— side effect of the morphine.”

Billy choked, face turning a little pinker.  “O-oh.”

You only rolled your eyes in amusement as you turned around to fiddle with one of his monitors.  Patients, and Brits, were pretty shy by your standards; you preferred to be brutally honest, because there isn’t much need for prudishness in a mental ward.  “If your heart rate gets too high, or too low, it’ll page me,” you explained.  “Anything else, press this button here and I’ll be on my way— got it?”

“Yeah,” Billy hummed, “thanks.”

“Oh, don’t thank me,” you dismissed, “it’s just my job, and I love it.  I’ll be back to check on you later, but Nurse Tilly’s bringing you lunch at noon.  You’re not vegetarian, are you?”  He shook his head.  “Great!  Do you want the TV on?  Oh, uh, the telly, I mean…”

He shook his head again, and you nodded, leaving the remote on his bedside table in case he changed his mind.  You could feel his eyes on you as you left, somehow, and his image was still in your mind as you shut the door behind you.  Even as you went about the rest of your shift, checking in on your old patients and meeting some new ones, Billy in room 3041 was in your thoughts.

You didn’t know too much about the circumstances that brought him to your hospital— no one did, because he’d refused to tell police or paramedics who stabbed him.  His chart gave a colorful history— psychotic breaks, episodes of delusion and paranoia, on and off medication for years— but his behavior was so… gentle.  And very few of the people you’d encountered in this line of work were dangerous, despite the harmful stereotypes; but Billy was even more delicate than the usual, even more reserved.  Maybe he’d brighten up a bit when he wasn’t freshly awake from surgery.

Shaking the thoughts of him away and trying to focus on work, you figured it was just a little infatuation with a handsome patient— happens to everyone, right?

//

It had taken quite the effort to get the woman to sit down— she’d been pacing and chewing her nails, and you finally convinced her that it would be better if she was sitting, and she did.  After dodging some questions and looking around at the space behind you as if something was there— which, yes, was kind of unsettling but something you got used to— she finally got on with it and told you why she’d come to the hospital.

"They've put wires in me," she whimpered.  

"I've never heard of that happening before," you admitted.  "I wasn't even sure if aliens are real…"

"They are," she insisted.  

"And how do you know there are wires in you?  Did you see them put in?" you asked.  If she said yes, you'd know her hallucinations were severe, but she shook her head; you took a note of that on her chart.

"I can feel them," she replied instead.  "I can feel the electricity.  They're making me like— like an antenna.  For their ships, y'see?  And it hurts."

Your heart twisted.  "That would be terrifying," you agreed, "and painful—"

"Please, someone's got to take their wires out," she begged.

"Hold on," you tried to soothe her, "I'll check for entry wounds first, okay?  To see if I can tell where they've put them in."

She shakily nodded, looking down at the floor where her feet shuffled around on fleck-patterned tile.

You carefully lifted her hands to examine her fingertips and wrists.  "I haven't seen anything yet," you offered her quietly.

"Th-they hide them," she explained, "so the doctors can't see."

"Tricky, those aliens," you frowned as you nodded thoughtfully.  "They don't want you to get any help, do they?"

She shook her head. 

"But we can help you," you promised.  "If we can't find the wires this way, we should do a CAT scan."

"What's tha'?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just a bunch of X-rays taken all at once," you explained.  "If there's anything metal in you, it'll right up.  They are metal wires, right?" 

She nodded, already seeming to soothe a little at the prospect of a surefire way to find the wires she was feeling inside her.  It made you feel better, too, that you could help her somehow just by listening.

"I'll have the doctors give you a thorough scan," you nodded with a smile, "and we can see what we find, okay?"

It seemed like a great idea at the time.  You started to question it now that it was a few hours later and Dr. Humphries was glaring down at you.

"You ordered a CAT scan for a woman with schizophrenic delusions?" he snapped, looking up from the chart and back at you with a red face and flared nostrils.

"Uh, well—" you started to defend yourself.

"She doesn't need an MRI, she needs to be fucking medicated!" the doctor spat at you. 

Straightening your back, you frowned as you took offense to his tone. "You think I don't know that?" you returned with just as much intensity as he'd thrown at you.  "She's not going to take any pills we give her if we don't take her seriously.  A CAT scan will take a half hour and it might give her some peace of mind."

"Believe it or not, nurse, the purpose of that million dollar machine is not 'peace of mind'."

"Don't you mean million pound?" you rolled your eyes.

"No— you're such a dolt, I know if I'd said that you'd've asked how I knew what it weighed," he sneered, all too proud of his wit no matter how minimal it was.

From inside his room, Billy watched the argument unfold; he couldn't hear much, but he could see you crossing your arms and puffing your cheeks and getting right back in the face of the man in the white coat while he barked at you.  Another nurse was tending to his linens, and she caught a judgemental glance of the spat outside before shaking her head.

"Quite American, isn't she?" the nurse scoffed.  "Can't back down from a fight— or keep her mouth shut, ever."

Billy smiled a little.  

"And she's got no clue how to make a cuppa, either," the nurse added, "can't even use a kettle.  Not sure how she plans to find a husband if she can't figure that out!"

Billy felt his chest warm, and not in the painful way he was used to with his healing wound.  He didn't think you'd have much trouble at all.

//

He could tell you were in a worse mood than usual when you came in— even though he could also tell you were trying to hide it.  “How are you feeling today?” you asked him, a little exasperation tinting your tone.

“Better,” he nodded.

“Not too much pain?  Any soreness?” you continued interviewing him, but his chest deflated a bit as he watched you go around the room without ever really looking at him— you were just going through the motions, he was just another patient.

“Are you alright?” he asked you, and it seemed to break you out of your trance.  You looked at him, and you looked tired— not something he’d tell you, because it would sound like he was saying you looked bad, which you didn’t.  You looked a little sad, really, in a breezy sort of way like you were trying to shake it off.

“Oh, I— I’m fine,” you promised.

"Is that doctor giving you trouble again?" he wondered.  The question seemed to catch you off guard, before you glanced down shyly and then over your shoulder at the window into the hall.  

"You saw that, huh?" you noticed.

"He seems like an arse," Billy decided.

"He's not so bad," you sighed, "he's really smart— problem is he knows it, and he thinks it makes him better than everyone.  Thinks us nurses are basically just maids, too, or secretaries.  I swear, if he walks into the break room one more time and asks where his tea is, I'm telling him it's in the fucking harbor."

Billy snorted at your comment, stammering through his next question.  "Don't have anything against Brits, do you?  'Cause you picked a bad place to live."

You sighed, stopping your work for a moment.  "Well… no, I don't.  But I do have a bone to pick, I guess.  I moved here for a guy— this amazing, too good to be true guy.  Thought we were gonna get married and stuff.  I only thought that 'cause he told me so!  But he, uh… he had a few of us going, actually.  I was the only one who moved this far to be with him.  But after I found out, I didn't have anywhere to live, and I can barely make rent as it is so I can't afford a ticket home… so, yeah.  Stranded across the pond.  Because of some fucking guy."

Billy shrunk a bit inside as he looked at you— he could tell you were trying to be casual and silly about it, to hide how much you were still hurting.  "We-we're not all like that," he blurted out, and you looked up.  He felt even more stupid for saying it now that you were looking at him.  "Englishmen," he clarified.

Your lips slowly curled into a smirk.  "Not all juggling a half-dozen girlfriends at once?" 

"Some of us are lucky to just get one!" Billy agreed, and you laughed.  Your laugh was fucking angelic, he thought; it made him want to jump right out of this blasted bed and hug you, as bizarre as that would be.  Ever since he saw you he imagined you'd be nice to hold, but every day it only got worse— and you were so pretty and sweet, you probably had every patient wrapped around your finger.  You probably thought he was another dirty, sick stranger; you probably thought he was work.  And he couldn't even blame you.

"I guess I'll have to give y'all another chance, then," you shrugged.  Y'all.  How quaint.

"You can probably get a lot of guys' attention with that accent," he suggested.  And that arse.  But he didn't say that.  

"I don't really want a lot of guys' attention," you sighed.  "Just the one."

"Which one?"

"The right one."

His heart hurt because he knew the feeling, the one he saw on your face, the one that made your eyes sparkle differently for a second.

"But I don't have much time for that anyways," you shifted topics quickly, "working all the time."

"Must be tough," he nodded.

"I like it, actually," you corrected, "I always keep busy.  And the people here…certainly keep me busy."

He felt a little self-conscious when you said that.  "Sorry," he mumbled.

"No, not you!" you clarified quickly, leaning closer and reaching out apologetically like you might touch him again.  He wanted you to, so badly, but you didn't.  "I mean the staff more than anything.  The patients are what make me want to come back every day, even the tough ones."

"Am I one of those?" he wondered.

"No," you smiled.  "Don't tell, but you're my favorite."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that— it only hurt him more because he wouldn't let himself believe it.  "Bet you see crazies like me all the time," he shrugged dismissively.  

"Crazies? Yeah," you laughed lightly.  "But I've never met anyone like you."

His face flushed briefly and he looked down at his lap under the white woven blanket.

A page startled you out of the moment.  "That's my cue," you hummed.  "Ring if you need me, please."

He nodded and watched you dart away as quickly as you'd arrived, wishing he could keep you here forever but knowing it was better to let you help the others, too.

//

“Knock knock!” you greeted as you leaned into room 3282 to see the patient gathering her things.  It had been a while since you saw her in street clothes— not since you’d admitted her and ordered that infamous CAT scan— and she looked so much better than she had then.  Her hair was brushed and she was smiling at you, visibly less disoriented even when she was just standing beside the bed.  “I’m glad I could catch you before you left— I came as soon as I heard you were discharged.”

“I feel like we’re sort of meeting for the first time, now,” she explained.  “You saw me a few times the past couple days, but I wasn’t really myself…”

You nodded in understanding, and she bit her lip for a second; you could tell she was getting a little self-conscious remembering how dysregulated she was.

“It felt so real,” she breathed shakily.  “I could feel them watching me…”

“I know,” you nodded.  “That’s how powerful our minds are— everything we know comes from that squishy pink brain, so if it gets the wrong idea, it’s gonna convince you to believe just about anything.”

“You must think I’m an idiot,” she decided, “to ever believe that.”

“Not at all!” you promised.  “Listen, Miss Dougherty— it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.  You came here for help, that’s what you should be proud of.”

She nodded, but didn’t seem to really believe you, looking down at the floor.

“Honestly, people believe all kinds of ridiculous bullshit,” you announced, and the crude language got her attention if nothing else.  “Far, far too many people think that the Earth is flat, or that the polio vaccine could cause autism, or that immigrants are somehow both lazy and stealing jobs— or that you can look like Kim Kardashian with just some tea from the internet and portion control.”

She laughed a bit, and you laughed too, even though you were perfectly serious.

“At least we can give you medication for believing what you did!  Those people just have to live with it, that’s the really sad thing.  You take one of these with breakfast every day and you can be normal,” you explained as you pointed at the bottle in her hand, “they’re stuck with whatever they’ve got.  You’re the lucky one.”

“Thank you,” she nodded.  “I’ve been to hospitals before— but you really listened, even when I didn’t make any sense.”

“Hey, it made sense to me,” you shrugged, “I’d’ve been scared, too.  Keep up with the prescription, okay?  Don’t wanna have to see you here again— no offense.”

She laughed in agreement; “I will.”

//

He was halfway through watching something terribly mediocre on the telly when you came in; he jumped up to grab his fork and try to pretend that he’d been eating his dinner, but he started to frown shyly as soon as he caught your disapproving look.  “Billy, you’ve barely eaten it,” you noticed; it was obvious, with three quarters of the chicken breast still on the plate and the green beans untouched.  “Didn’t she bring that an hour ago?”

“Erm…”

“Is it the medication?” you asked, quieter, stepping further into the room.  “It can suppress your appetite.”

“D-don’t make me change to something else,” he blurted out, “I like this one.  I can actually think straight.”

You smiled patiently, and he couldn’t even look at you while you did it— you were so fucking pretty when you smiled like that, it hurt to look at it.  “I won’t make you change medications just because you haven’t finished your chicken, Billy.”

“I was worried Dr. Humphries might—” he began, cutting himself off with a hum.  “He said he was worried about me eating enough on this one, and that he’d change it if I lost any weight— b-but I like it…”

“We’ll just tell him you didn’t like the chicken,” you decided.  “If I bring you an extra slice of cake, will you eat that?”

He had to fight his smile from getting too big.  “I can try.”

“Easier to get down than dry chicken, that’s for sure,” you winked, putting the plastic cover back over his plate and grabbing the tray to set aside somewhere else.  “What are you watching?”

“E-erm, some melodrama, I think.  She’s been cheating on her husband with his evil twin,” he explained, just as the advertisement ended and an inquisitive musical sting indicated the show was back on.

“Don’t you hate when that happens, huh?” you offered sarcastically.  Your eyes stayed on the screen as you sat down on the edge of the bed, right by his hip; his heart fluttered with you so close, the warmth of your body just one pesky bedsheet away.  “Mind if I watch it with you for a minute?”

“N-no,” he assured, voice thin and wavering as he tried to act natural.  “Stay as long as you like…”

Unfortunately, you were interrupted almost immediately as a male nurse swung the door open— Billy somehow felt like he’d been caught doing something bad, when he wasn’t really doing anything.  The nurse said your name and you perked up.  “Been looking all over for you,” the nurse said, with a tilted grin that seemed a little flirtatious— maybe any smile would seem flirtatious when you’ve got perfectly white and straight teeth like those, and sparkly blue eyes and perfectly quaffed hair— Jesus, was this guy a model or something?

Billy hated imagining you spending time with this guy, selfishly.  “S-sorry,” you mumbled as you stood up, “I was just taking Mr. Knight’s dinner tray.”

“Tilly can do that,” the other nurse dismissed with a shrug.

“But she’s busy,” you noticed.

“Could you come out here?” the man asked you, and when you turned over your shoulder, Billy gave you a quick wave as his way of approving your departure.  You smiled at him one more time as you followed your coworker into the hall, just outside Billy’s door.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you…” he heard the man’s voice continue, right before the door shut all the way.

Billy furrowed his brow and turned the volume on the telly down, hoping to hear the conversation better.  He could still barely make it out— and he was afraid if he muted the show, you’d notice.

“...since you came here, and actually, I was thinking—” he heard part of a sentence, but it sort of went in and out.  He couldn’t tell anything else for sure until he heard your voice again.

“I prefer to keep my work and personal life separate,” he heard you say, distinctly, and he couldn’t decide how to feel— excited, that you seemed to be turning his guy down for a date?  Or heartbroken that he would never have a shot with you because of this policy you held?

You never had a shot with her anyways, his inner voice told him.  Well, at least Mister Handsome Nurse Man didn’t either.  Misery loves company, or whatever.

//

It had been years since Billy felt something warm.  He was all too familiar with his hand, rough and shaky— all too familiar with using his imagination to get himself off.  Of course, back at his flat he had porn to ease the way, give him something to picture… here all he had was the telly in the corner and the unending thoughts of you you you.

Just the other day you'd leaned over his bed and he could smell your hair.  He wanted to hold your head and bury his nose in it, breathe the sweet scent of you.

Once he caught a quick glimpse down your shirt before he looked away, out of nervousness as much as gentlemanly discretion.  But he wasn't feeling so much a gentleman now, after waking up in the middle of the night from a dream of you in a more compromising position.

He'd never had an orgasm from a dream, only gotten hard and woken up unsatisfied.  There was a monitor clipped to his finger on his hand— so he took it off and moved it to the other, so he wouldn't have to worry about it or the IV while he did this.

He already had to bite his lip just from slipping his hand into the hospital-issue pants, just from wrapping some weak fingers around his aching cock.  He'd made a bad habit of wanking frequently at home— not much else to do when you're trapped and alone, and it was the only thing he liked doing just as much whether he was off his rocker, or semi-stable, or medicated.  Thankfully, he wasn't on the kind of medications that removed his libido: that, or his fancying of you was just that powerful.

The room was incredibly dark with the shades shut, only half the lights in the hallway on, but even then he couldn't make out any light except for the dots where the strings ran through the blinds.  He watched that window when his eyes were open, but sometimes he shut them— it didn't make much difference, either way all he saw was you.

As he jerked faster on his cock, letting his hand tighten occasionally, he pictured you climbing on the bed and straddling him, resting your hands on his chest (even though that would hurt).  Remembering your hand on his shoulder when he first woke up made it easier to imagine, but he couldn't even conjure up how you would feel inside, how your body would take him— he just had to think about how it would look.

He grunted your name to himself, shutting his eyes tight, trying so hard to think of the way you'd moan as your hips rocked above his.  He wanted to watch you as you picked up your pace, so desperate for pleasure that you couldn't slow down.  You'd be such a wild thing, he decided, just as brash and shameless in bed as you are at work— if not more.  

He would give anything to make you say his name in that exact way, that needy hungry way just like he mumbled your name now.  His hips were starting to rock up off the bed, and he imagined his skin clapping with yours as you moaned louder and louder.  As unrealistic as it was, he was imagining you showering him in praises, so good, Billy, you're so good, fuck! but he couldn't always get your accent right in his head. Please don't stop, god, just don't stop, need t'come—

"All yours," he answered you under his breath, "not gonna stop, feels so fucking good…"

And then he couldn't stop himself from imagining you admitting, in bed or otherwise, that you'd wanted this.  That you had thought of him the same way— fuck, what if you touched yourself, too?  That'd be too fucking rich.  Billy wasn't really sure if girls did that— obviously they did in porn, sometimes, but he knew a lot of that wasn't real.  He heard that most won't do anal, either, but that's different; touching yourself is more normal, more natural, and fuck how bloody natural you'd look on your back with your legs spread, rubbing your needy cunt, begging to be touched, desperate for a partner— for him, for Billy who could fill you so nicely and make you sound so pretty.

He was already so close, in part from having taken a few days off from this, mostly because the thought of you was making his cock fucking throb.

As he got closer and closer to the peak, his mind raced with images of you— but not in the poses of the girls in dirty magazines, not how he pictured you naked, no.  It was different.  The way you'd look in normal clothes, or dressed up for a date.  How it would feel to watch you sleep next to him as the sun's coming up through your bedroom window.  Not just his name on your lips in pleasure, but in casual conversation with others— my boyfriend, Billy— or in a cackling yelp as he made some joke you hated to laugh at, maybe while he tickled your ribs to see you smile— Billyyy, stop it!

Holding the back of your head while he kissed you, your little whimper as you tugged him closer because you needed more.  Putting a necklace on for you, hopefully one he'd bought or made for you, and touching the back of your neck.  Kissing you there— and everywhere— and hearing you hum with satisfaction.  Don't do that, we don't have time before— oh god, Billy, we'll be late if you do that… hm, okay, just a quick shag before dinner.  No wait— just a quick fuck before dinner— the American way.

The intimacy, which sex was only one of his favorite parts of, was what he was imagining.  Cuddling up on the sofa, sharing popcorn at the cinema, cooking for you… that's what he was imagining as he realised he was going to come.

He panted and squinted his eyes shut as he fucked his hand faster and faster, heart pumping hard and fast as well, hand shaky but determined as he chased pleasure right around the corner—

The door swung open and you burst in in a flash, running to his bed, but you stopped dead in your tracks as he pulled himself off— well, not in that sense, like he had been a half-second ago— rather, pulled his hand away and pulled the blankets up, scandalised and stammering.

"Oh, fuck m'sorry— I—" he began.

"N-no, I'm sorry," you insisted, looking down awkwardly, "I thought— your monitor, it was— I thought you were having a fucking heart attack."

His baking-hot face turned down sheepishly, and he noticed the thin sheet and blanket did nothing to hide his unsatisfied erection, the fabric clinging to every contour so you could see basically the whole thing.  He coughed and put his hands over himself atop the blankets.

"I should've knocked— but I was worried you needed immediate attention—" you explained hoarsely.

"I didn't know you were on tonight," he mumbled, like that mattered.  Not as if he wanted any other nurse running in on this.  But it was different, more shameful, knowing he'd just been getting off to the thought of you.

"Wasn't supposed to be, but someone asked me to— doesn't matter," you shook your head.  "Sorry to burst in on you…"

"I wasn't…" he began, questioning if he should say it but going on anyways.  "I wasn't doing… what you probably think I was."

"I-it's nothing I haven't seen before, Billy," you promised, seeming a little surprised, if not irritated, by his obvious lie.  "You're a free man, got every right to take care of yourself—"

"Don't—" he pleaded, before he interrupted himself with a mumbled, "Jesus…"

"I'll go," you decided, "and leave you to it—"

"Christ!" Billy added, almost as if he were just now finishing the curse.  "S'not like I could… do that now, is it?"

"Seems you've still got everything you need to do it," you smirked, and he choked.

"God, don't tease me, said m'sorry an' all," he pouted.

"Not teasing," you shrugged.  "It's natural, everybody does it."

Even you?  "Y-yeah, s'pose…"

"Not much else for you to do here anyway, stuck in bed… can't help if you get horny—"

"Not horny, okay?" he spat out suddenly, and defensively.  "M'just— god.  Just lonely."

He wouldn't normally admit something like that, but it was so late and his chest hurt in a sense totally unrelated to his wound.  

When he heard the door shut, he worried you'd just up and left.  How cold that would be, to leave him alone as he said how lonely he was.

He only knew you were still on this side of the door when you stepped up to his bedside again, your shoes clicking on the floor.

"You should go back to sleep," you noticed.  Then why'd you shut the door?

"I— even if I take care of it, I don't think I can," he admitted.  "Sometimes I have—"

"Nightmares," you finished.  "It's in your chart."

"Please stay," he whispered.  "It's easier with you here…"

"Sleeping, or…?"

"Sleeping!  God, sleeping," he coughed.  "I mean, both, but—"

"I can stay," you offered.

"That was the first good dream I've had in months," he told you, easier to confess these things in the dark.  "The one that made me… like that."

"Very good dream," you agreed with a smirk.

His oxygen monitor beeped softly behind it all.  "Y-yeah…" he mumbled.  "It was— well, I bet you know it was you."

"Oh— how would I know that?" you sighed.

"Because you must have been able to tell I'm proper mad about you," he explained, "aside from just mad."

"I… I wondered if you were," you replied, softer.  "I hoped you were."

Billy, unsure what to say, turned to look up at where he was sure your face was in the room— and he could barely see it, his eyes still readjusting from the door being opened.  Your features were softened when they were lit up in light blue by the monitors behind him.

"I came in here to take care of you," you promised with a whisper.  "It's my job.  Just tell me what you need."

"I need— god, I can't say it," he whined. 

"If you can't tell me, then show me."

Your hand rested for a second on his shoulder, and he couldn't stop himself from grabbing it.  After debating it for a moment, he pushed the blanket and sheet down again, and sighed with a wide open mouth as he guided your hand to his throbbing cock.  It bounced up into your fingers before he'd even finished putting it there, so needy for your attention, so greedy to be finished off after being brought up to the edge like that.  Billy had never had the patience or fortitude to tease himself, the closest he'd ever come to edging having been those times he was on a certain type of meds and could jerk off all day and never come. 

He had the exact opposite problem as he hesitantly let go of your hand and watched you do it yourself, slow and gentle brushes over him, almost reverent in the way you touched him where he needed you most.  He almost didn't want to let go of your hand, he wanted to keep holding it just for holding it's sake, but he wanted you to act on your own: to not feel trapped or forced.  You were so delicate about it— he was so worked up you absolutely didn't need to be that gentle, he probably would've still blown his load if you tried to tug the bloody thing off— and he could see in the dark how little sighs fell from your mouth as you stroked him.

"God, I'm not supposed to do this," you breathed.  "S'it sensitive?  Your heart rate's spiked again…"

"V-very," he murmured out.  "God, you're— god."

"Fuck— I'm really not supposed to do this," you repeated again.  "But I— I've been wanting to for a while… no one's gonna come in while I'm in here, but shit, if someone did…"

It would be a huge mess, for sure, but sort of hot.  Even better if it was somehow another patient who thought they were the only one with affections for you.  Even better if it was that nurse who was hitting on you.  "Never— fuck— wanked a patient before, right?"

You laughed.  "No, haven't given a hand job in years, actually— feels a bit high school, doesn't it?"

"Fuck, wouldn't know," he groaned.  He meant it both as in 'you wouldn't know because you're so good at this' and 'I wouldn't know because nobody was wanking me in high school'.  "Your hand f-feels good.  I-I don't deserve this, I definitely don't deserve this— pretty sure I'm dreaming actually—"

"No, it's real," you promised, "I know it's real, 'cause in my dreams I've never got my work uniform on."

"Y-you don't have your work uniform on in my dreams, either," he joked.

How desperately he wanted to reach out and touch you with one of his hands— it didn't even need to be somewhere scandalous, though he wouldn't mind a chance to feel you up under your shirt.  Even just to hold onto your hip, or even to hold your hand, would be so perfect right now.  But he didn't want to take this too far and ruin it.  It was already too good to be true.

"F-fuck," he sighed as your hand twisted gently when it reached the ridge of his head.  He couldn't remember the last time anything felt this good, just being touched by you.

"Like this?" you asked in a meek voice— how precious, you asking him how he wanted you to wank him.  Even just you asking made his toes curl under the blanket.

"Yes," he hissed, "l-like that… little slower, maybe?"

You followed his command, and his chest reverberated a groan.  He liked it best like this, savouring every second— normally he'd just be beating himself off senselessly by now, desperate to come, chasing pleasure with reckless abandon.  But this was so different, and he never wanted it to end, even if his balls were tight and aching with the need to release what he'd been holding in for much too long.

"I… I can't believe this is happening," he blurted out as he watched with better-adjusted eyes your movements in the dark.  Your pretty, tender hand squeezing his swollen tip, giving his whole length nice, long strokes.  

It was incredible enough, then you pulled your hand away— and he was about to whine pathetically, beg you not to stop, he even thrusted his hips up in the air in search of more— and spit in your palm quickly before getting back to it.

"Oh god," Billy moaned, his head falling back on his pillow as your hand smeared your saliva all along his hot skin.  Your strokes were smoother now, and you could grip him tighter without tugging the skin the wrong way— and he couldn't stop fucking moaning, couldn't stop himself from trying to buck his hips up and fuck your hand.  The sensation was incredible, but the raunchiness of it was what really did him in.  Spitting in your hand so you could jerk him off better, really giving him the proper treatment; his whole body was sort of overheated and numb at the idea that you cared so much about doing this right.  With a dry hand it felt more like you were doing him a favor, but after doing that he was sure you wanted this for your own reasons.  He couldn't imagine what those would be, but he dared not question them.

"How's that feel?" you asked, almost clinical in your tone, the same way you'd asked when helping him stand up or after giving a fresh dose of painkillers.  And yes, he had imagined something like this when you asked him that before, so good to know he was on the right track.

It was sort of silly that you asked when he couldn't stop moaning and writhing in the bed, but he nodded as he answered: "R-really fucking good.  You're so good…"

He heard you hum a bit, a tiny pleased laugh, and he whined pathetically.  You seemed to be revelling in how little you could do to him to make him so desperate.

"So good," he said again under his breath, cock pulsing in your grip.  He was so close but he couldn't let it go yet, he couldn't finish now and just have you clean him up and go: he'd fight it off all night if it meant keeping you here, feeling you, being pleasured by you this way.

"I— I'll get fired if they catch me," you reminded him.  "But I just— sorry, I've been wondering about your cock for a while."

Jesus, she keeps saying things like that and I'll lose it in a second.

"And it's bigger than I thought."

Jesus!  He screwed his eyes shut tight in hopes of staving it off further— he didn't want this to end, you'd just barely started.

"I'm so fucked, fuck, might as well— oh god, you know the saying, right?" you prompted.  "In for a penny—"

"In for a p— oh, fuck, fuck!"

You'd bent down and captured him in your mouth, still stroking at the base with your hand but bobbing your head on the rest.

"Baby," he whined, bucking up into that perfect wet heat encompassing him, "baby, I'll come, god, I'm so sorry— I'll fucking come—"

You hummed around him.  You didn't even stop, didn't even flinch, as he began to spray his come on your tongue.  He grabbed your head and tilted his own back with a loud moan— dangerously loud— as his whole body seized up for a second.  Each wave of it seemed to hit harder than the last, especially when you sunk your lips down further and he could feel you swallowing it, god you were so sweet and you acted like a proper slut given the chance.  He couldn't have made you more perfect if he built you himself.

"Oh, fuck," he sobbed, looking down at you in the dark again, petting your hair, keeping you there just a bit longer as he basked in the warmth of your mouth.  Drool was sliding down his cock and balls in droplets, maybe some of it was his come you hadn't gotten down.  "Fucking perfect," he blurted out.

He felt you smile slightly around him, before you carefully slid your mouth off of his cock and popped back upright again.  "There you go," you said chipperly as if you'd just tied his shoes for him or something— not like you'd just given him his first non-self-induced orgasm in years and easily one of the best of his life, with only your hand and a couple seconds of a blow job.

"I— fuck," he choked, "you— thank you, I— oh my god… I'm sorry, I—"

"Sorry?" you repeated.  "What for?"

"Just— dunno, m'sorry, if I made you think you had to do that…"

"Well I had to do something to get you back to sleep," you joked, making his face heat up even more.  "Of course I didn't have to— actually, I think it might be, um, illegal, so… don't tell, I guess."

As if he could even imagine doing anything that would interfere with the chance it could happen again.  He had no idea if it would happen again either way— but he didn't care, he was still riding the high from it happening at all.  "I— I tried not to come that fast, but your mouth—" he began awkwardly.

"It's sexy," you promised.  "It's cute."

He blinked bashfully, as if he had any right to be bashful now.  "You're sexy," he returned, "really, really sexy, god.  You know how many guys' fantasies you just fulfilled?"

"Not interested in many guys' fantasies," you quipped.  "Just the one."

He beamed.  "Which one?"

"C'mon, Billy, I just swallowed your jizz, don't be coy with me," you frowned.

"S-sorry…"

You leaned down and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek.  "I've gotta get back to work—"

He grabbed your head and forced a kiss on your mouth, hungrily slipping his tongue between your lips and groaning as you relaxed your jaw to let him in.  

He hadn't kissed like this in ages, either, and the last girl he'd managed to go home with after some pub crawling hadn't even kissed him at all; he groaned against your mouth as he moved his hands from your face to your neck, your waist, your back… anywhere he could reach, he wanted to touch you.

He got lost in it instantly, you had to push pretty hard on his shoulders to peel him off, and he cleared his throat nervously.  "S-sorry," he said again, "I— I just had to kiss you, sorry."

"Even after that?" you chuckled.

"Especially after that."

"Even with the, you know, taste?"

"Oh," Billy smiled, "so that's what that funny flavour is…"

"You never tasted it before?" you realised.

"No," he frowned, "why would I?"

"I dunno— I've tasted mine," you shrugged.

"Oh— Christ," Billy choked.  He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to stop imagining you pulling two fingers out of your cunt after using them to make yourself come, bringing them to your slack lips and kitten-licking the cream off your hand…

"Really gotta get back to work now," you insisted, "try to get some rest—"

"Wait," he begged as he grabbed your wrist.  "Stay a little longer— we can just talk, if you want— I should return the favour though, shouldn't I?  Are you, erm… are you turned on at all after that?  If you stay I can help you, too— you can get in the bed with me and I'll make love to you—"

You snorted out a laugh.  "We don't have time for that, Billy, I've already been in here too long, there are other patients—"

"Don't go yet," he insisted again, squeezing your hand in his.

"What more do you need?" you asked, and the question made his heart jump.

"Just some time with you," he explained.  "Just— was that— are we—?"

He stopped as you leaned in and kissed his face again— the side of his nose specifically— gently.  "I'll check on you again in the morning before I go, okay?"

He pouted a little, reaching up to hold your shoulders for a second, before nodding and relaxing back into his bed.

You tucked him in carefully and encouraged him once more to get some rest.  "I'll be back just before shift change at seven," you assured.

He fell asleep so quickly, so exhausted even when his mind was wired, that it only felt like a few moments before he woke up again with a jump as the door opened.  He expected to see you come in, but he frowned at the back of Nurse Tilly, bringing the breakfast cart.  "Good morning, Mister Knight!" she greeted, and he sighed as he glanced up at the clock: 8:30.  He'd slept right through shift change.

"Morning," he greeted her flatly.

//

"I've got good news," the doctor smiled at Billy, tilting his head; somehow it almost seemed condescending.  "You're cleared for discharge.  You’ve healed well and you’re responding just how I’d hoped to the new medication.”

“But…” Billy started to protest.

“What’s the matter?” Dr. Humphries wondered.  

“Could I stay longer?”

“Erm, well… it’s a hospital, not a hotel, Mister Knight,” he frowned.  “What makes you want to stay?”

“I just— is my nurse here?” Billy asked instead.

“Which one?” the doctor asked before seeming to realise something.  “The American?!”

“Err…”

Dr. Humphries scoffed quickly.  “She’s just had a twenty four hour shift, she won’t be back until Thursday.  You certainly can’t be here another two nights with no medical need for hospitalisation.  I’m guessing you’d hoped to say goodbye?”

“Yeah,” Billy nodded.

“And you were hoping to ask her on a date as well, I presume?”

Billy choked, glancing self-consciously at the other nurses present— one of which was the handsome male one from before.  That face had a sort of sneer on it— subtle, but noticeable— as if to say yeah, good luck with that, mate.  “I— I just wanted to thank her,” Billy lied.  He honestly hadn’t been sure if he’d ever get the courage to ask you out, but now he’d never know.

“I’ll pass along the message for you,” the doctor offered, though he didn’t sound too enthused about it.

//

Google, delete history, chew nails, repeat.  illegal for a nurse to have sex with patient, can you lose your nursing licence for sexual contact at work, is masturbating a mental patient crime UK...

The search results were a mix of inconclusive and unencouraging.  They kept talking about why you shouldn’t have sex with patients— as if you didn’t know— but rarely clarified the exact consequences of your exact situation.  You didn’t know if the hand job counted as sex, anyways, or if it really mattered since you were both consenting adults of sound mind (well, some not quite as sound as others, but still), or if this rule really only applied to doctors who had a genuine power over patients in a way nurses didn’t exactly— they just gave more and more scoldings to anyone considering ‘beginning a relationship’ with a patient.  They gave examples that were obviously violations— like a doctor who was tried for sexual assault after convincing a patient that an invasive physical exam was necessary when it was actually elective and not related to their condition, or a nurse who was fired after touching an unconscious patient, stuff like that.  Billy had wanted you to touch him, that much you knew, he put your hand there himself; god, just the memory made you shiver, and you shook your head as you cleared your history again.  There was no real chance anyone would see what you’d been searching up, but the shame that burned in your gut every time you saw your own history was worth avoiding.

The really concerning thing was how little, after all that Googling, you actually regretted it.  Yes, you were fully aware at the time how risky it was, why it was a bad idea, what would happen if you were caught.  But for all this searching up about nurses and patients, it didn’t feel like that at all… it just felt like two people with a basic human instinct surrounded by insanely complicated circumstances.  

It wasn’t like you at all, either, and not just because you’d never made an advance on a patient before: that was obvious.  You usually didn’t do that much even with your actual dates, even with guys you’d met under exactly the right conditions.  Usually, a hand on yours guiding you there would make you shudder and jump away; usually, you wouldn’t even think to touch somebody like that on the first date.  You hadn’t even gone on one date with Billy, though the amount of time you spent imagining it was almost like you were trying to delude yourself into thinking you had.

You’d been daydreaming more and more since you met him about that sort of thing, about what it would be like if you met in some random way after he was discharged from some other hospital, one of those cute ways like in the movies where he helps you get something from the top shelf at the grocery store or you find his lost dog or he just sees you on the street and has to tell you that he thinks you’re beautiful—

Groaning, you shut your laptop and stood up; you were gonna be late for work if you kept torturing yourself with these fantasies.  

// 

Oh god, I’m actually mental— more than usual, he realised as he stood there, holding the pathetic arrangement of cheap daisies; the plastic around them crinkled as he relaxed his grip slightly from the sadness sinking in his gut.  She does me a favour, takes care of me for nearly a week and wanks me off once and I start stalking her— she’ll think I’m a creep.

He’d been waiting all morning by one of the entrances to the ward, hoping to catch you as you walked back in to work on Thursday, but as the hours passed he became more aware of how disturbing his behaviour really was.  You probably knew you wouldn’t see him again when you did that, that was probably why you did it— so you wouldn’t have to worry about exactly this happening, about him wanting more from you.  Hadn’t he taken enough?

Slumping his shoulders, he stood up from the bench and contemplated what to do with the flowers.  He was about to toss them away when he saw someone exit the building, an older woman, crying into a handkerchief as she talked on the phone.  “He’s gone,” she informed whoever was on the other end of the line.  “They just told me— he went this morning.”  

“Ma’am?” he asked her, not quite getting her attention at first.  He stuck the flowers out towards her and she looked at him with a hint of confusion.  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“O-oh… thank you…” she breathed, and he nodded at her as he turned and stuffed his hands in his pockets on his way towards the car park.  “Y-yes, sorry, someone just gave me flowers…” she continued as she talked on the phone, harder to hear as he walked away, “no, I don’t know him— some man outside the hospital— they’re daisies…”

He smiled a little to himself as he hopped across the street, jaywalking in a break between cars zipping by.  He’d nearly turned the corner when he heard your voice.

“Billy?” you noticed him, smiling wide as he turned to look at you, standing on the street— walking to work, apparently.  You were wearing your uniform already, and he’d almost missed it, even with how much he’d been dreaming about seeing you any other way.

“O-oh, erm, hi,” he stammered, wondering if he should pretend it was a coincidence he ran into you.

“You’re… you’ve got jeans on!” you noticed, and he looked down at his outfit— just the aforementioned jeans and an old t-shirt, with his hoodie on top for the chilly weather.

“Not much of an improvement from what you’re used to,” he mumbled nervously, rocking back on his heels.

“No, you look good,” you insisted.  “H-healthy, I mean— maybe I shouldn’t have said that, it could sound… forward.”

“Forward?” he repeated.

“Well, I was hoping to talk to you today,” you admitted, chewing the inside of your cheek.  Oh god, I’ve heard this talk before— ‘I like to keep my work and personal life separate’.  “I wanted to apologize.”

“Eh?”

“I shouldn’t— we can’t— I’m sorry,” you started over a few times, “if I exploited any… dynamic, that we had.  I don’t want you to think that because I’m your nurse, you couldn’t say— that you can’t say ‘no’ to me.”

“You’re not my nurse anymore,” he noticed, “I’m not a patient— I’m…”

He wanted to say it quickly, before he lost the courage, but with you staring at him expectantly he couldn’t keep his thoughts in order and he sort of just spit it out all at once.

“I’mjustsomeblokewhocan’tstopthinkingaboutyou,” he rushed.

“Huh?” you frowned, understandably unable to parse what he’d said.

“Oh, Christ,” he groaned, “doesn’t matter— y’don’t need to apologise, i-if anything I was gonna thank you again.”

“Well, you don’t need to do that, either,” you mumbled quietly, a shy smile crossing your face.  “We’ll call it even.  You got a happy ending and I get to keep my job.”

“Not quite even,” he recalled, face getting warm as he pictured exactly what he’d have to do to make what happened that night completely fair.  “I want something else.”

“Oh…?” you wondered, tilting your head.

“Your number, maybe?” he finally asked, heart pumping dangerously fast, and you smiled.

“Okay,” you agreed.

“A-and I could call you sometime.”

“Okay,” you repeated.

“And ask you to dinner.”

You smiled wider.  “Okay.”

“O-or I could just ask you now…”

“Okay,” you laughed.

“But maybe I should wait!” he decided suddenly.  “Maybe it’s better to do it later— I don’t know, I don’t do this very often…”

“I noticed,” you smirked, and he blinked at you shyly.

“I-I’m not totally helpless, y’know, I got you flowers,” he informed you proudly.

“You did?  Where are they?” you asked.

“E-erm, over there,” he pointed across the street, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion.  “I’ll get you different ones, better ones—”

“I don’t want flowers, Billy,” you replied, “I just want you to come pick me up when I get off today— my shift’s over at—”

“I know,” he interrupted with a beaming smile, “I’ll meet you by that door and we can go somewhere nice.”

“How about your flat?” you recommended.

“W-well… it’s not very nice…” he admitted, biting his lip as you stepped closer.

“I bet I’ll like it,” you purred, and he couldn’t resist the urge again— he grabbed your face and kissed you, way too needy and passionate for the seemingly-mundane situation here on the street by the hospital. But you hummed into it and kissed him back; he knew he couldn’t blame that first kiss on it being the middle of the night anymore, being all sleep-deprived and desperate, because he felt the exact same way at eight in the morning on a Thursday in the middle of the pavement.

Again, you had to push him back gently to cue him to stop, and he looked at you as your eyes fluttered open and your bitten lips smiled at him. 

“Not gonna run me late to work, are you?” you challenged.

“No,” he promised, “I-I really want to, but no.”

“That’s a shame,” you jokingly pouted as you lowered yourself from your tiptoes and started to cross the street.  “See you tonight!” you called as you went on your way, and he wanted to say something back— something smooth, but anything would do, really— but he just got mesmerised watching you go, knowing the next time he saw you would be for a date. 

He could hardly believe it was real, that he’d gotten this lucky, but he decided not to question that anymore and just accept whatever gift from the universe this was supposed to be.  He was almost tempted to just stand outside and wait for you for your entire shift, but he decided instead that he could at least go and pick out some new flowers for you, despite what you’d said about not wanting them… better safe than sorry.

#billy knight x reader #joseph quinn x reader #billy knight smut #billy knight strike

[writingmia]

percy jackson/heroes of olympus love languages headcanons

In honour of the teaser trailer and the show release date, I have relapsed into my Percy Jackson addiction, so here are some of my headcanons for the characters and their love languages.

Authors Note: This are my personal headcanons for my interpretation of the characters, but I'd love to have a discussion if you disagree with me. I have tried my best to avoid putting physical touch as the main love language of any character, not because I find it less valid than others, but because I see a fair amount of mistyping with physical touch, since majority of people in love tends to want to have physical contact with their partner. Finally, these are non-specific, so you can apply them either for ships or as imagines with you and the characters.

English isn't my first language, so please beware.

Warnings: none

Percy Jackson: quality time/words of affirmation Percy's love languages were influenced by Sally Jackson herself, and the way she raised Percy. He didn't get to spend a lot of time with his mother, the one person he cared about the most, for in the first years of his life, so it became natural for him to treasure every second he had with her. This continued on when he found out he was a half-blood, especially with the dangers that come with the job and the constant knowledge that he or the people he cared about might not make it to tomorrow. Spending time with the people he cares about, no matter what they're doing, is one of the main ways he shows his love. Furthermore, he is very vocal with his affection towards his loved ones. He isn't scared to verbalize his appreciation for them, to praise them for their achievements or to verbally reassure them, much like Sally did for him growing up

Leo Valdez: acts of service/gifts When Leo cares about someone, he takes care of them almost subconsciously. He doesn't really think about the fact that he constantly does small things for the people he cares about - it comes naturally. He knows their favourite snacks so he can always have them at hand, he fixes their weapons or devices or whatever needs fixing without them needing to ask. On an equal level with that, he is also constantly making little gifts for his loved ones to make their life easier. A new weapon with the perfect balance for them? He made it immediately after hearing their weapon was causing them issues. He finds out what their favourite flower is? He's giving them a small bouquet of them, made from scrap metal he found lying around and just fiddled with without even thinking about it. He just wants to make the life of the people around him easier and he'll go to great lengths to do that

Annabeth Chase: quality time/acts of service Annabeth is a busy woman. She's always in a rush, always has a project to work on, a duty to fulfill, a place to be and people to please. So the way her loved ones know how much she cares about them is because she manages to find time to spend with them. They might not even be doing anything important, just sitting by the lake or in their cabin, not even speaking to one another, with Annabeth consumed by another project or a book, but she has found the time to go and be with that person. Even more, if she stops something she undoubtedly has to do, just to help out a person she cares about with a task or something else that gives them trouble, that is someone she is ready to die for. If you're anyone else and you try to bother Annabeth Chase, you can bet you'll end with a knife in the throat or, somehow worse, with the worst death glare you have ever experienced

Hazel Levesque: physical touch I find Hazel with a love language physical touch a fascinating concept because of the way she was raised. When she was a child, things were a lot more conservative, so casual touching isn't something that was implemented often. Still to this day, Hazel would sometimes get flustered or uncomfortable by PDA, so the fact that she shows affection to people by finding small reasons to touch them is something so special to me. Whether it would be a pat on the back after a job well done, casually grabbing a person's arm while telling a story to keep them engaged or sitting thigh to thigh when it's not strictly necessary, Hazel would find these little excuses to hold contact with her loved ones for just a bit longer, and while in the beginning she was very unsure of that, with time she had grown more confident and comfortable in showing affection

Those are my headcanons for now. Please feel free to share yours in the comments, I would love a discussion! If you want me to post more headcanons I have for the characters, or if you want me to do the love languages they live to receive, please let me know!

All from me for tonight, - mia

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #riordanverse #headcanon #percy jackson headcanon #heroes of olympus headcanons #x reader #love language #love langauges #percy jackson x reader #physical touch #quality time #words of affirmation #gifts #acts of service #leo valdez #leo valdez headcanons #annabeth chase #annabeth chase headcanon #hazel levesque #the author watched the series trailer and had a pjo brainrot again #first post #pls like my post

[mousequill]

My thoughts/head cannons on Velvet and Veneer

On Veneer: I personally believe that Veneer’s sympathy stems from his goldfish he used to have. Here’s how I think it went down. Veneer, like any other little kid, probably begged his parents for a pet dog or something but his parents thought that was too much responsibility so they gave him a fish instead. Veneer might have been bitter about this, because c’mon now, that’s a boring fish and Veneer probably wanted his pet to be more entertaining (referring to his pet monkey). So he might have halfheartedly taken care of it and slowly over time he might have even grown a small bond with it but again, Veneer is a little kid and I doubt he did any research on how to properly take care of a fish (the fish probably lived in a small glass bowl with no enrichment) and of course, the fish dies despite Veneer now giving it slightly more attention. This makes Veneer guilty of course but he moves on because in the end of the day, it’s just a fish. Then much later on Floyd comes along, not in a glass bowl but similar, and this time his new ‘pet’ can actually talk to him. I personally see it as Veneer viewing Floyd as something akin to an entertaining talking hamster or something or the sort. So forming a bond with Floyd becomes a lot easier than his fish. And then Floyd begins to lose his color (much like how fish do when close to dying) and that same guilt begins to creep up on him, because internally wether he realizes or not, he sees his goldfish in Floyd, leading to him eventually helping out Floyd.

Tldr: Veneer feels guilty about killing his pet goldfish so he makes up for it by helping Floyd.

On Velvet: People need to stop making her out to be this sadistic abusive monster. She’s literally just a bratty teen diva, and arguably, also suffering from addiction from not only the fame going to her head but also actual addiction lowkey. Like, I can’t be the only one that noticed how agitated and on edge she sounded before giving herself a few doses of essence and her voice immediately going soft and relaxed. Additionally, just because she’s the stronger voice out of the two twins doesn’t mean she’s abusive to Veneer, y’all need to chill with that. Speaking of loud voices, I’m also seeing the theory that Veneer actually has talent but acts like he doesn’t to keep his sister happy, and like, I get it, considering his speaking va and his singing va are the same and he doesn’t dose himself as much as Velvet, but I think that’s simply because he doesn’t NEED his voice to be as strong as Velvet’s, he’s just the backing vocals, so of course he’s not gonna dose himself as much as her. Lastly, Velvet is a good sister to Veneer and I say this on the basis that Velvet was happy to perform with her brother at all times. She could have done a solo career and hogged all the fame and glory for herself but she didn’t. The fact that Veneer actually sassed Velvet back in two scenes (“Our parents were dentists 🙄” “Why do I have to do it 🤨” tells me that he’s not afraid of to talk back to her like some of you are making him seem out to be). Velvet loves her brother obviously, but being famous, being remembered forever, that was her DREAM, not Veneer’s, so of course she went a little aggressive with it towards the end.

Tldr: Velvet is actually a good sister and a normal teen girl acting her age.

#Trolls 3 #trolls band together #velvet and veneer #trolls velvet #trolls veneer #my thoughts #they love each other #but also angst between them is good too #what sister hasn’t called her brother an idiot once in her life 🙄 #Let Velvet live a little jeez #At least she wasn’t the one to comment multiple times on how cute the trolls looked while imprisoned #“They’re kinda cute banging on the walls begging to go home - Veneer